#but i needed to put all of my thoughts somewhere

[pyract0]

Random thoughts with MHA men!

☁︎Lowkey just a heap of stupid ideas I had for different characters I thought were funny/ cute. Might extend on a few of these into longer fics if I find the time :) ☁︎Going back to finishing some requests after this! Sometimes read and can't process what I just read so might take a while to finish them all! Feel free to request but might be a bit slow at the moment, but I'll get through them when I can! ☁︎Not really any warnings other than swearing (Tried to keep it to a minimum but habit when I can't think of a fitting word)! Gn/ unspecified reader :))

╰┈➤ Katsuki Bakugo who follows a strict routine he set for himself to get the most out of the day, in bed by exactly 8:30. Yet he coincidently always happens to be awake when you try to sneak in and cuddle under the covers with him. Gets annoyed at you for "interfering" with his schedule, but he never lets himself fall asleep if he knows your planning to visit, even if at ridiculous hours of the night. ╰┈➤ Shoto Todoroki who lacks certain aspects of understanding when it comes to social cues, specifically the idea of personal space after you start dating. Will stand behind you breathing down your neck just wanting to be near you, not realising how odd it appears to anyone passing by. Similarly, will practically sit ON you instead of beside you, squeezing between you and anyone/anything so he can sit right beside you.

╰┈➤ Izuku Midoriya who often forgets or simply doesn't realise when his habit of rambling starts, sometimes scaring the shit out of you when he suddenly breaks the silence. Will need you to sometimes cover his mouth when out in public before he says something that would accidently make any sane person uncomfortable. Talked about murder out of context at least a few times and got y'all kicked out of somewhere </3

╰┈➤ Tenya Iida who understands the concept of money and it's overall value, but frankly doesn't care when it comes to you. Buys you awfully expensive items that reminds him of you/ thinks you'll like, hiding just how much he actually spent so you don't reject it (you know, you just don't have the heart to tell him.) Will gift you like it's only something small and beat himself up for not getting you something better (It cost more than what you make in 3 months). Prides himself on responsibility but it all falls out the window when about his decisions around you.

╰┈➤ Eijiro Kirishima who shows you off like some sort of deity, constantly praising anything and everything you do. Accidently degrades himself while praising you, saying how he doesn't deserve you (he's literally an angel :(( ). Will do anything for you, if you ask him or not, choosing to show just how much he loves you through his actions not just words. Tells you he loves you at least 5 times a day <3

╰┈➤ Neito Monoma who respects you even if you're in class 1a, never speaking poorly of you even when shitting on your class. Stops whenever you're nearby and starts acting all sweet like he wasn't badmouthing each of your classmates to their faces minutes prior. Another one who worships your every movement and the ground you walk on, but instead of degrading himself puts everyone else but the both of you down. (My favourite little menace)

╰┈➤ Hitoshi Shinsou who without fail whenever you're alone hands you some random ass cat inspired thing that reminded him of you. First it was a small succulent pot, next some really doped out looking cat plushie, then a little keychain of a black cat with a witches hat.. it just kept going. Gets you wondering how he manages to keep finding these objects, and how he always manages to have one when you see each other unplanned (He has a little hidden pocket where he stores the little strange trinkets) ╰┈➤ Rody Soul who sometimes activates his quirk, summoning Pino, at the most random hours of night. Will get woken up by your sudden screams, thinking you had a nightmare only for it to have been Pino scaring the shit out of you by sitting on your chest in the middle of the night and scrutinizing your very being (lovingly). Has been forced as a result to spend the next day begging for forgiveness for Pino's actions (He had a dream of you and she was just admiring you with the same level of affection as him, just hers a bit more creepy..)

╰┈➤ Mirio togata who even after years of practice with his quirk, happens to forget what activating it in normal clothes does. Has tried to phase through the ground to surprise you with his sudden appearance just to end up flashing you, both of you now sitting in embarrassment while your struggling to breathe through your laughter. Apologises before joining you in going along with your everyday life (It will happen again)

╰┈➤ Tamaki Amajiki who uses you as a form of protection, not from physical danger but from people trying to communicate with you both. Will hold your hand in his and stand right against your back, head often against yours or on your shoulder while he lets you talk for him as well as yourself. As soon as you finish, will drag you away to a more secluded area and embrace you with more confidence as a way of showing his appreciation for never complaining about his shying away from socialising.

╰┈➤ Giulio Gandini who chooses to not wear his eyepatch when you're both alone, trusting you in his most vulnerable form. Who is able to use his robotic eye as a camera, recording your interactions to preserve the memory. Often pulls up these moments on the screen of his prosthetic arm when you're apart, watching through them when he misses you. Moves certain ones to a USB and prints out photos to give you (some in lockets, some just as a copy to frame) leaving you confused on how he managed to get them. (I love him so much :(( lowkey the main reason I liked the 4th movie sm)

╰┈➤ Touya Todoroki/ Dabi who will only let you help when it comes to dyeing his hair (aka forces you when the black is washing out to help fix it up). Will sit on a random chair he dragged in or the edge of the bathtub while you touch up his roots, probably moves constantly unless you hold his head in place. Gets you to join him in the shower to help wash through it, being a little shit about it and smudging the dye on you so it'll stain.

╰┈➤ Tomura Shigaraki who refuses to touch you with all 5 of his fingers, even after he's confident in his abilities to control his quirk. Will always have a finger lifted from your body while he holds you in his embrace, wearing artist gloves when sleeping beside you just to be safe. Holds your hand constantly when alone like the touch starved person he is but never has a proper grasp, loosely intertwining your fingers while he leaves his pinkie away from your hand.

╰┈➤ Shota Aizawa who similar to his son has a habit of handing you random stuff when he returns home, though his are more concerning. If you had a nickel for every time he came home to hand you a kitten he found in an alley, you would have two but it was very strange it happened twice. Came home after his long shift one night and handed you a cat like it was just another causal Wednesday. So anyways you guys have 2 cats now :))

╰┈➤ Keigo Takami who likes to use his feathers to tickle you at the least expected times, often resulting in a fresh bruise the next day. Will each and every time forget you like to swing when his feathers are tickling at your sides, with your first or leg accidently colliding with some part of his body. One time was his face, another his calf, or the time you accidently hit him where the sun don't shine. He learnt to move back after that one..

[veephoenix]

guys, this is just a reminder that making gifs takes time. writing fanfiction takes time. creating fanart takes time. i'm saying this because i've seen a few gifs of mine being reposted and while i love to know you guys enjoy the content i post -whether they are gifs or stories or whatever- i think it's necessary to remind everyone, once in a while, that there's a ton of dedication put behind the scenes. i use photoshop to make gifs, and sometimes i spend over 30mins or more to make a gifset containing 4-6 gifs. i do this for my enjoyment first and foremost, but when you see it being reposted somewhere else without credit, it just feels... not nice.

if you come across a gif or gifset that makes you feel things or that you really enjoy, you can reblog it from the original source and write a caption, you can use tags, you can leave a comment or tag your fellow mutuals... it's that simple, and that way, you'll be giving the creators the visibility they deserve without devaluing someone's work.

and while i'm at it, same goes for fanfiction. i write because i need it; because it helps me understand myself, process my own thoughts and emotions; it helps me understand others; and i write because i enjoy it, the process of researching, getting better at expressing myself and everything else that comes with it. i share some of my writings here because apparently a bunch of you enjoy my little things (thank you, babes), but if you take a moment to think about how much time i've spent writing and editing what i post... well, it's a lot.

so please, support your creators. reblog, don't repost. leave a comment, send a message. appreciation is needed; it means the world to us. and we'll forever be grateful.

that's it, thanks for listening. ✨☺️ love you all x

[dsireland86]

Anonymous asked:

Can you do a little something about Bad omens, they are playing truth or dare and maybe Noah has to take a body shot off reader that leads to more? If you feel comfortable writing about it ofc! 🤍

So, stupid tumblr app decided to be dumb again and posted this story before it was finished, so I had to pull it and redo it. Also, it strayed from the original concept and plot, because this is what came to mind when I started writing. I'm sorry!!!!! Hope yall like the fixed version. It's a lot better and a little dirty. Sorry... my mind went too far with Noah body shots 🤯

Truth or Dare

Tag list:

@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h @disappearintothegrey @jilliemiw86 @pathion @fear-its-beauty @an0mallly @potterheadquinn @flowery-mess   @bloody-spades

The music was too loud for Noah. He had a pounding headache and was exhausted from the six week run in the U.K they’d just got back from. Day's after returning home, the band's management team insisted on throwing a welcome home party to celebrate the biggest headliner the band had done to date and a number one single. So, he was playing nice and pretending he was enjoying the party. Noah hated it and he was miserable.

"Can you at least look like you're having a good time," Matt complained walking over to meet him. "He can't help it that he has a resting bitch face, Matt. Go easy on him." Noah scowled at Jolly, who just simply smiled. "I want to go home," Noah whined, falling down onto a nearby couch. "I feel you," Folio agreed, sitting down next to him. "Why did you agree to this, shit, Matt?" Noah pouted. "Hey my hands were tied, dude. I wasn't really given an option here. Believe me, I'd rather be somewhere else," "Yeah, like held up in his house watching Grey's Anatomy," Jolly chuckled, pulling his long hair back into a bun. "Don't be hating on my show," Matt muttered, checking his phone. "Great. I've got to go meet upper management. Fuck this shit," turning around and walking away as the others just stayed back, laughing.

Folio sat his beer down on the table and removed his hat to scratch his head. "Poor Matt. He suffers so much for us." "Yeah! He'd better. We make him a lot of money," Noah stated, crossing his arms.

Nicholas came walking over the couches, munching on a banana. The other three just stared at him.

"What the hell, Ruffilo?"

Nick looked over at Jolly. "What?" he shrugged.

"Where at a high class party with caviar and shit and all you can find to put in your mouth is a banana?" Jolly criticized.

"Yeah.Caviar is gross and nothing else looks good," staring at a group of giggling girls that walked by him. Nick just shook his head.

Noah laid his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose, when another group of girls came over to them, dressed as if they were looking to get some. Jolly's eyes widened and Folio just pulled his hat down a little lower.

"Excuse me, we need some help," one of the girls asked, her words partially slurring.

Noah raised his head, slowly, instantly regretting he did.

"Sure. What do you need," he replied, reluctantly.

The girls looked at one another, whispering in the other's ear and giggling.

"It's our friend's birthday, and we're trying to get her to do body shots by playing Truth or Dare, but she's refusing. So, we thought that if we could find some really hot guys, she'd change her mind."

Noah looked over at Jolly, begging him with his eyes to come help. Jolly just hid his grin and shook his head, no.

"I, uh, I don't think I'm qualified," "Do you have chest hair or anything around your belly button area?" one of the girls asked. "What! That’s random." "Lift your shirt up. Let me see," one of the girls ordered.

"No!" "Noah, stop being a pansy and just show the girl your chest. It won't kill you," Jolly blurted out, earning him a heated scowl from Noah. "Will you leave me alone if I do?" Noah fumed at the girl who was about to cause him to snap. "I don't know yet. Show me and I'll tell you."

Noah sighed heavily, lifting his shirt.

"I can't see. You have to lift it higher."

Noah growled, glaring over at Jolly who was fighting his laughter. 

"You're dead, Karlsson," Noah threatened.

Noah lifted a little higher, hating that he was degrading himself this way.

"You're perfect! Come with me," she ordered, grabbing Noah's hand and yanking him off the couch. She and her friend drug Noah behind them as he tried to fight the grip they had on him.

"Hey you two have let me go, like right now!" Noah demanded.

They led him to another part of the venue and into a room filled with more people and louder music that was about half the size as the one they'd just come from

When his eyes landed on her, Noah almost couldn't breathe. She was so damn pretty and had a smile that could soften even the hardest heart. She was wearing a cowboy hat and a sash that read "Birthday Girl," and the moment she turned and looked at him was the moment his life changed forever.

"We found one," the two girls that drug him over told her.

The girl looked from her friends around the table to Noah, obviously very confused.

"What are you talking about? Found one what?"

She shyly looked over at Noah and smiled.

"A fucking hot guy with tattoos that you can take your first body shot off of the next time you spin a dare."

The girl groaned and threw her hands over her face.

"No! Oh god, please tell me you didn't just go out there and hunt down some random guy to bring over here to play a stupid high school game!"

The two girls were about to protest, but Noah beat them to it.

"No! Actually, I wanted to come. They said it was your birthday, so I thought I'd come over and hang for a little bit."

The girls grew quiet, laughing amongst themselves.

"I'm Noah," he introduced himself, leaning in a lot closer than he meant to. He could smell her skin, the scent of rainwater bamboo engulfing his senses.

"Y/N," she replied. Noah smiled, and all Y/N could think was, "Oh shit."

Noah was hot. His lean frame, covered by a white hoodie, towered over her. She would’ve given anything to touch his body, to dig her nails into his flesh and grip the arms that would hold her down, and run her fingers through his short, anime style haircut. Looking down at his hands, Y/N noticed how big they were and the tattoos that were drawn over his skin. Telling from the ones on his neck, she assumed he had them in many other places too.

"Are you okay?"

Noah's deep voice pulled Y/N from her thoughts. She smiled, nodding her head.

"I'm fine, sorry."

Noah gave a gentle laugh.

"So, Truth or Dare and body shots, huh?"

Y/N groaned. "Shit. Please ignore my stupid friends, okay. I don't know what possessed them,"

"I think your friends are just trying to help you have a good birthday," Noah interrupted, trying to sound positive in hopes of getting what he was secretly yearning for.

Y/N raised an eyebrow

"Someone's being optimistic." "You don't think so?" "No," Y/N shook her head, looking over at the girls who had just taken shots of something. "They always have hidden motives."

Noah reached over and brushed her fingers with the tips of his, hoping to pull that beautiful smile out of her again. This behavior was totally out of character for him. Noah never allowed his feelings for someone he'd just met to affect him the way he was allowing them to right now, and it was only a matter of time before the girl in front of him said or did the wrong or right thing that would make him snap.

Y/N shivered the moment she turned and faced Noah. The heat that spilled from his gaze was enough for her to feel internally, forcing her to clench the muscles of her sex as her arousal soaked her panties.

"Hidden motives are a dangerous game to play," Noah pointed out, unable to look away from the heated look in Y/N's eyes that was causing his dick to harden the longer he continued staring. "It's better to just be truthfully honest and up front, if you don’t, don't you think?"

Y/N swallowed hard, a small smile twitching her lips.

"I do."

The tension between them was thick and sweet, like honey. They way she peered up at Noah through her lashes shot through him like a bullet headed straight for his semi-hard length.

"Hey! Are you playing?"

Noah and Y/N looked over at the table where a group of her friends were crowded, the one yelling at them holding an empty beer bottle. Y/N hesitated before looking at Noah.

"You really don't have to do this. I know this isn't the ideal situation for you, and you have no idea who any of these people are."

"I'll do it." "Really?" Y/N asked, surprised.

"Yeah. It's your birthday, and anything here has to be better than what I was having to suffer through over there,” flicking his head in the direction where he came from. 

Y/N gave Noah a small smile. "Okay, well, if you're sure." "I'm sure," Noah replied, giving Y/N a tight-lipped smile.

This group of friends was nothing like Noah's group of friends. He gave up drinking and the party life years ago, trading it in for video games, movies and anime nights with his friends. This wasn't his scene, and he was starting to believe it wasn't hers either. They watched the bottle spin over and over, going through four people before it was finally Y/N's turn. Praying hard for a miracle that it wouldn't land on a dare, she was severely disappointed when it did. But with only one look at Noah, her perspective changed quickly. Noah wasn't surprised when her friends dared her to take body shots off of him. It was the reason for the grin on his face. The first one that happened was awkward for him to do with everyone watching, but he kept his eyes on Y/N, doing his best to block everyone else out. Standing in front of her, wondering if their night together was really over that quickly, Noah acted on impulse and closed the slight gap between the two of them. Lifting Y/N's chin, his eyes darted between hers and he saw the very thing he was looking for flash across them.

"I can't believe you're letting me do this again," Y/N grinned, watching Noah remove his hoodie this time. "It's your birthday, Pretty Girl. Birthday girls always get what they want,” Noah stated, lying back on the two tables that had been pulled together.

With a bottle of tequila in one hand and a dish of limes in the other, Y/N sat them down on the table next to the salt. Noah kept his eyes locked on her, watching every expression her face made. Taking a risk, he reached over, underneath her mini skirt, and slid his hand between her things hearing the small, slight gasp that quickly turned into a whimper. Noah raised an eyebrow, clenching his jaw as his huge hand grasped the inside of her thigh tighter before moving a little further up. Y/N didn't stop him, but instead, moved closer to keep their moment more discreet.

"Your thighs are so fucking soft and warm," Noah praised. His big soft hand with their long fingers slowly ran up and down her skin, making her shiver. “I wonder what would happen if I did this,” brushing fingertips over her throbbing hearted sex.

The slight buck of her hips gave Noah the response he wanted. His infectious smile returned to his lips, making Y/N hungry to taste them.

"You're playing dangerously, Noah," Y/N warned.

"I asked you if you wanted to," he replied, lifting his shirt high enough for her to take her first shot. “So, are you?”

Y/N opened the tequila and slowly poured it into Noah's belly button, being as careful as she could be. Noah's stomach muscles flinched causing his skin to prickle and she wondered if it would have the same response if she were to go down on him right then. She wanted to find out, especially when she noticed how hard he was. It took a lot of restraint to not touch him

"See something you like?"

"I see a lot that I like," she grinned, taking a lime slice from the bowl and bringing it to Noah's lips.

His hand remained between her thighs, as he continued caressing her skin, slowly, giving Y/N a pleasured feeling that set her nerves on fire. She parted her legs a little more, giving Noah more access to her sweet spot.

"Open," she ordered and Noah obeyed, biting down gently on the green rind. Pushing his head to the side, Y/N poured the salt onto his painted skin and ran her tongue over it, over the faded green leaves that rested just below his jaw. It pulled a deep throated growl from Noah and clenched the inside of her thigh. Y/N moaned from the feeling, knowing fully well there would be a bruise there by morning. Quickly, with the salt still on her tongue, she moved to Noah's lower half, sucking the liquor straight from his navel until every bit of it was gone before moving to his mouth and taking the lime. Noah watched with lust filled eyes as she sucked the juice from the rind, tossing the table when she was finished.

"What?" Y/N asked, noticing the look on his face as she returned to her normal height. "Shit," Noah breathed, half-smiling. "I think that had to be one of the hottest things I've ever seen."

Y/N giggled.

"Well, it sounds like you haven't seen a lot." "Oh, I've seen plenty."

Noah moved his hand higher up her thigh, waiting for her to stop him, and when she didn't, he ran his fingers over her pussy.

"Your panties are moist, pretty girl. Do I make you wet?"

Y/N whimpered, biting her lower lip.

"What if I did this?" swiping over her clit. "Noah," she gasped, gripping the table.

Noah laughed, soft and low.

He sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the table, and pushed her panties to the side, pressing the pad of his finger lightly between her folds. He made a sound that was almost inhuman, swallowed up by the newfound warmth he'd discovered. His fingers rubbed gently at first, pulling tiny gasps from her lips as his tongue and teeth marked faint lines across her skin as he made his way towards the bottom of her throat.

"Damn, you're so fucking wet; so tight. God, baby. You're sweet little pussy feels so good," Noah muttered.

Y/N could hear the excitement and the tiny crack that followed in his voice. She sighed, closing her eyes and absorbing the feeling of Noah's sensual assaults inside her. She didn't care if this was wrong. She didn't care if people could see. All she cared about was if Noah was capable of making her cum.

Moaning the moment Noah slid two fingers up inside her, Y/N raised her head, looking up at him. Noah was gone, lost in the moment just as much as she was. He hummed, satisfied with the feeling of her tight pussy already clenching around his fingers that thrusted deeper and deeper each time feeding the array of quiet moans that escaped her lips the harder she worked herself against his hand.

"I want you to take another shot off me," Noah ordered.

"Mmm, I can't, not while your fucking me like this," Y/N protested, keeping her eyes locked on him.

"Yes you can. Just try it. You'll like it, I promise," Noah grinned.

Y/N's stomach fluttered as her heart beat faster. Doing what she was told, she salted his neck and instead of putting the tequila in his navel, she poured it into the small spot between the two bones at the bottom of his throat, right below his adam's apple. Noah slowed his movements as Y/N rose to the tips of her toes, licked the salt and lapped up the liquor, grabbing the lime from Noah's teeth.

"Fuck that's hot," he confessed, kissing her forehead. He could feel her legs trembling, her body starting to shake and even though she was making being a gentleman about the whole thing difficult, he refused to be apathetic.

"Come here," he whispered gently, returning to the soft thrusting of his fingers against her inner walls, taking his time to completely undo every tensed muscle in her body.

Y/N scooted closer, lifting on her toes to give more access and placing her hands on Noah's thighs for balance.He pulled her in and pushed her head down, allowing her to rest her forehead against his shoulder.

"Stay with me, baby. Keep your hands on me. I've got you," Noah encouraged her, wrapping his free arm around her and holding her as close as he could. Y/N gasped and moaned, clawing at the fabric beneath her hands as Noah took them to another dimension. They were no longer where they had been. They were somewhere else; just the two of them.

"Oh, god!" "God isn't here, pretty girl, I am. And it damn well better my name on those lips when you cum," Noah growled

He held Y/N to him with one arm while using his free hand to thrust up into her. Her back arched, and she allowed her head to fall back as Noah latched on to her throat. He bit down, sucking the saltiness of her skin off .

"Noah, this is dangerous. What if someone sees," Y/N panicked, making a poor attempt at getting out of Noah's grasps. "I don't fucking care if they do. I just want you, I need you to cum for me, baby. Give me the satisfaction of pushing you over the edge."

Y/N couldn't deny the hungry desire for her she saw in Noah's eyes. It was feral, and all she wanted to do was feed it. Pushing her hips forward, she gripped Noah's shoulders and worked her pussy against his hand, right before he slipped in a third finger. A low curse left her lips as she bit the lower one to cover a moan.

"You're going to cum for me, aren't you, pretty girl?"

Her pussy clenched around his fingers and soft whimpers replaced any words she wanted to say.

"God damn, yeah, that's, baby, ride my hand," Noah coaxed her, paying close attention to Y/N's body and the signs it was giving him. "You like that, don't you? You like me fucking your wet, needy cunt with my fingers like this, twisting them inside you. Tell me you do," he breathed, trying to ease the urgent need to cum himself "I do! Fuck, Noah, I shouldn't, but I do really like it."

Her abdomen was on fire, her head spinning from the overwhelming coiled tension building in her lower back. Her breathing was shallow as her quiet moans started to draw closer together, and her head fell back, closing her eyes. Noah wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, lifting her head.

"Eyes on my pretty girl. Watch me when you cum. I need to see the look in your eyes when you cum all over my hand," he ordered, breathing heavily.Y/N nodded "I can feel you squeezing my fingers," he whispered, ghosting his lips over hers. Y/N tilted her head in hopes of capturing them, but failed. "Noah, I'm about to cum!" she gasped once Noah found that spot."Right there?" "Mmm-hmm, don't stop, please don't stop!" "I won't as long as you keep your eyes on me," he promised. And she did.

Pressure built in Y/N's lower half, the ache strengthening with every thrust of Noah's fingers or the swipe of his thumb over her clit and in a matter of seconds her walls fluttered around his fingers, her climax reached its peak, and her orgasm crescendo throughout her entire body.

"Oh god, Noah," she cried into her hand before she collapsed onto his chest.

"There it is, that's a good girl. I can feel your cum dripping down my wrist, baby. Fuck!"

"What's wrong?"

Noah took a deep breath through his nose, trying to keep it together.

"I'm about to fucking cum!" he growled through gritted teeth.

Y/N wasted no time. Grabbing the front of Noah's pants and briefs, she pulled as Noah lifted his bottom and released enough of his thick, swollen cock right as the milky white liquid shot all down the front of her skirt. Noah groaned, resting his forehead against hers.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! "I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N," he swore over and over, chest rising and falling rapidly as he covered himself up, but Y/N was only laughing quietly.

"Don't be,' she replied breathlessly, looking into Noah's eyes. She pulled back and brushed the hair out of his eyes before kissing his forehead."We both got what we wanted."

Noah grinned. Reaching over, he grabbed the tequila, salt, and limes.

"What are you doing?" "It's my turn. Lay your head back," he commanded, and Y/N obeyed, feeling as if her heart was about to beat out of her chest.

Noah repeated the same steps as she did when taking the shot off of his neck and swallowed quickly, trailing his lips with a little bit of tongue up her neck, kissing as he went over her jawline and took the lime from her mouth. Y/N could only give small exasperated moans as her eyes met Noah's. They were dark, full of an eagerness for more.

"Yum," he smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Happy Birthday, pretty girl." Y/N just shook her head, smiling.

They found a bathroom where Noah was able to clean his happy accident off the front of Y/N's mini skirt. Neither one spoke, both of them either too embarrassed, ashamed, or sad from everything that had happened or was about to. Maybe it was all three. Walking around the corner of the bathrooms, Noah's phone vibrated. It was a text in the band's group chat asking where he was. He texted back that he was coming, then pocketed his phone.

"So, uh, thanks for the really awesome birthday gifts," Y/N teased.

Noah felt his ears and cheeks instantly heat up, forcing him to rub the back of his neck like he normally did when he got embarrassed.

"Yeah," he laughed, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"Seriously," reaching out and touching Noah’s arm, assuring him she was.

Noah locked eyes with Y/N, desperately aching to kiss her. She was so pretty, with a sweet smile and the kind of laugh he could get used to hearing a lot of. But deep down, he knew that wasn't going to happen

"I gotta go. Gotta get back to my friends..."

"Yeah," Y/N laughed nervously, "of course."

"Do, uh, is there any chance I could have your number?"

There was an awkward silence.

"Um, Noah, I,”

"Oh god, I'm sorry, you're don't, er, you're not, shit, never mind," Noah stuttered, apologizing quickly.

"No, no, it's not like that, it's not that I don't want to, it's just that, well, I just shouldn't," Y/N stated, peering up at him.

That's Noah realized, that was Y/N's way of letting him down gently. His pocket vibrated, saving his heart from realizing what his head had just figured out. Matt was freaking out. He really had to go, now.

"Right," he slowly nodded, suddenly feeling like the biggest fool around. "I'm gonna go. My band's about to receive some kind of an award, so I've got to hurry."

"Your band? Wait… what?"

"Yeah, anyway, it was really nice to meet you and I hope the rest of your birthday is great," he yelled, turning around and running in the opposite direction as Y/N called his name from behind him.

"Dude, where the fuck have you been?" Matt scolded.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you later."

"Hey," Jolly called, tapping Noah on the shoulder. "How did it go? Was the friend nice?"

Noah remained silent for a moment, wondering how to put into words all that had happened. There weren't enough and there never would be.

"Yeah," was all he could say with a smile. "She was pretty nice. It was fun, for the moment," shrugging his shoulders.

Jolly chuckled, patting his friend on the back as they followed Nick and Folio out to where their managers were standing. The guests cheered and whistled, cameras flashed, and hands were shaken as the guys were awarded and congratulated with a number one single award from one of the biggest music companies in the country. Noah looked out into the faces of all those cheering for him and his best friends, eyes stopping when they came in contact with a pair he recognized instantly.

Y/N's mouth was wide open as she stood in the crowd looking at the man whom she had just shared a very intimate moment with and nobody but the two of them knew. She was with somebody, making Noah's heart instantly fall into the pit of his stomach. He'd just fingerfucked some other guy's girl, making him feel low and dirty. The guy turned around, and Noah recognized him instantly. He was a friend in the business who worked for the record label. The guy looked from him to Y/N, and Noah watched as he gently shook her to get her attention. Reluctantly, Y/N tore her eyes away from Noah and exchanged a few words with the guy glancing at him one more time, before walking off with her face in her hands. His friend shrugged, waving to Noah, before turning to follow after Y/N. Noah smiled softly to himself, knowing it wasn't going to be the last he’d ever see her again. 

[sunsburns]

To add on to my previous thought, Joaquin could simply be doing the dishes his tags dangling an inch away from his chest or seeing them outlined under his shirt and I’m still drooling.

Like if he put them on me would he be acting the same way? Let’s find out, Joaquin lemme borrow your tags pls!

anything he does would have me swooning i don’t know what to tell u

and joaquín isn’t even doing anything particularly noteworthy, just standing at the kitchen sink, washing the dishes after dinner. he’s humming something soft under his breath, something familiar, and the low, absent-minded tune settles in your chest in a way you don’t quite expect.

he’s wearing one of his usual loose-fitting shirts, sleeves cut just enough to tease the toned definition of his arms. the fabric is thin, clinging to his back from the warmth of the water, and there, just beneath the cotton, you can see them.

the outline of his dog tags. they press against his shirt every time he moves, shifting, catching just enough light to keep drawing your eyes back to them.

you were telling him some story from earlier in the day, but the words falter on your tongue, train of thought lost entirely as you watch him.

it’s when he turns slightly, reaching for another plate, that they swing—dangling just an inch away from his chest, pressing against the fabric, teasing you like they know exactly what they’re doing.

your gaze traces the silver chain around his neck, how it peeks out from the collar, disappearing beneath his shirt. your fingers twitch with the sudden need to touch, and before you even think it through, you’re pushing off from the counter, stepping closer.

your hands skim over his shoulder first, light, almost absentminded, trailing down until they brush against the beads of the chain. you barely apply any pressure, just running your nails over them, feeling the warmth they’ve absorbed from resting against his skin all day.

joaquín stills instantly.

his breath hitches just enough for you to notice, and you don’t miss the way his fingers falter under the running water for just a second.

you pull the tags from under his shirt gently, letting the metal settle against your fingers, and then you tug.

not hard—just enough to make him stumble a step, enough to force him to turn toward you, enough to have his eyes wide and blinking as he processes what you’ve just done.

you don’t give him time to recover.

your fingers curl around the tags, keeping him close as you lean in and tug him even closer, pressing your lips to his before he can so much as utter a word.

for a second, joaquín doesn’t move. he’s too caught off guard, too caught up in you, the cool press of your fingers against him, the warmth of your lips settling over his. but then he melts.

the dish towel slips from his hand, landing somewhere in the sink, forgotten. his wet palms hover at your waist, dripping, for only a second before he touches��really touches—fingertips pressing into the curve of your hips, pulling you flush against him.

he exhales into the kiss, slow and shaky, and it sends a shiver down your spine. his lips part slightly against yours, a moment’s hesitation—like he’s savouring this, like he doesn’t want to move too fast, doesn’t want to ruin the way your breath catches at the same time he does. he always kisses you like the first time.

but you don’t want slow.

you tug his dog tags again, just enough to tilt his chin down, just enough to feel the low, barely-there sound he makes against your lips.

and then he’s kissing you back in full, properly, like something in him just gave up resisting.

his hands tighten at your waist, then one slides up your back, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, pressing against warm skin as he holds you even closer.

the heat between you builds, your head spinning as he deepens the kiss, lips moving with a slow, deliberate ease—like he wants to take his time, like he’s making sure you feel every second of it.

and you do.

you feel it in the way his nose bumps against yours when he tilts his head, in the way his breath hitches when your fingers slide up, curling into his hair. you feel it in the slight, barely-there tremble in his hands, like even he can’t believe this is happening.

it all makes you smile.

when you finally break apart, your breath is uneven, your lips tingling and in a wide grin.

his face is pink, eyes still a little dazed, lips parted like he’s still trying to catch up to what just happened.

your fingers are still wrapped around his tags.

“what was that for?” he asks, voice quieter than usual like you just knocked all the air out of his lungs.

you shrug, giving the chain one last, playful tug.

“felt like it.”

[solarpunkfool]

I'm seeing a lot about "no-buy years" and the planned Feb 28 "economic blackout" and I just... have some thoughts.

All of this is great. Definitely do it. Definitely commit, as much as you can, to taking back the only power recognized by capitalism. That is, the dollars the you generate and the attention they demand.

AND

Remember that the Alabama bus boycotts lasted MORE THAN A YEAR. Remember that the French labor unions have to go on strike for WEEKS to see results. Remember that targeted boycotts are much more about making companies loose face rather than dollars, and that making noise (ie. generating media coverage) matters a great deal.

Put your usual purchases in your amazon/target cart,

abandon it,

cancel your prime membership,

then go find local stores to make your purchases at.

AND COMMIT TO MAKING THIS CHANGE PERMANENT.

This isn't about "Amazon needs to do better and then we'll give them back their money", this is about taking away Amazon's power INDEFINITELY.

Join Buy-Nothing groups and share your own resources.

Consider different solutions to problems you'd usually solve by purchasing things. (My most recent personal example is that I really needed an over-sink drying rack to keep my kid's dishes clean, but I didn't want to buy one - so I rigged something up with twine, a piece of a broken shoe rack, and some push pins).

Look to the people that capitalism has historically marginalized and harmed the most. My father-in-law (from a dirt poor Appalachian family) has a garage full of what I thought was "junk" but that man has never had to go BUY a tool, he's always got something somewhere that will do the job. Is it hording if his neighbors and family can always rely on him to let them borrow a claw hammer?

Utilize anti-cap resources - libraries, makers-spaces, repair cafes, parks.

Stop participating (as much as you can) in the economy that harms you.

Find ways to spend as LITTLE AS POSSIBLE, for AS LONG AS POSSIBLE.*

We aren't going to fix these companies, they are PART OF THE BROKEN SYSTEM.

*This doesn't apply to small businesses. Vet those people, then make sure you keep what power dollars you have circulating locally.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Robbie Jennings x fem!reader

Summary: Your brother causes a misunderstanding between you and Robbie.

Genre: Fluff, blurb <3

Warnings: brother's best friend trope, underage characters (robbie is 17 and reader is 16), first kiss, misunderstandings

It feels like a dream watching him up there; his brown hair falls messily over his eyes, long fingers gliding over the strings of his guitar. The friends you came with have wandered off somewhere, probably to find some snacks or a drink, but you're too enthralled to even move.

"You're drooling," a voice drawls, causing you to spin your head around and see your older brother, Robbie's best friend, standing beside you as he nudges your shoulder, a grin curling his lips.

"No, I'm not," you argue, feeling embarrassed.

"He'd never date you, y'know," your brother says, his lips curling as if it won't hurt your feelings, and he misses the way your entire face falls. "You're so not his type. Plus, he said so himself—you're too young for him—"

Your heart constricts and you feel like you can't breathe. You glance up at Robbie, accidentally meeting his gaze as he sends you that precious smile and you feel sick. "Excuse me," you whisper and turn away, needing air or even a ride home.

You wander around, searching for your friends but they're nowhere to be seen. "Oi, Y/l/n?" another male voice interrupts your thoughts and you tense up. You were just about to find your coat and leave. You force a smile when you turn to the boy.

"Hi, Tom," you say, looking around. "Jas went home with Georgia and—"

He looks out of breath as he holds his hand on his knees. He's bending forward and he shakes his head in your face, as if wanting you to listen and stay put. You frown. He's being weird. Your stomach sinks and you wonder if your brother had said anything to him—after all he is Robbie's twin brother.

"Are you leaving?" Tom asks once he's regained his breath.

You're even more confused. "Yeah? It's late and I have loads of homework—"

"Wait, um, can't you stay? They only have one more song to play. I know it would mean a lot to my brother if you stayed. He—well, he should tell you."

It would mean a lot to Robbie if you stayed? What did that even mean? That familiar feeling of hope sinks in, only to be crushed by the reminder of your brother's words and heat crawls up your neck to your cheeks. Still, you're curious and that curiosity wins as you agree to stay until the setlist is over.

Once, it is, you stay by the bar as you play with the straw of your Shirley Temple. Your brother greets his friends, patting them on the back, and whispers something in Robbie's ear as the latter sends you a glance, his cheeks a little pink from what you assume was from the heat of the overhead lights on the stage. You look away, poking at the bottom of your glass with the straw.

Should you just leave? This is agonizing.

Still, your heart flutters when Robbie calls your name.

"Hi," you say when he leans against the bar next to you. He's smiling, his blue eyes gazing across your features.

"Thanks for coming," Robbie places his hand over yours on the bar, and then he tilts his head and adds with a laugh, "Well, for staying—"

"Your brother wouldn't let me leave," you laugh awkwardly. You never know how to act when he's this close to you. Robbie's eyes sparkle and he nods. He looks quite proud of himself.

"Yeah," he says, rubbing his nape as he laughs. "I asked him to make sure you didn't leave. I- I have a question I've been wanting to ask you."

You nod, still fiddling with the straw as you focus on Robbie and not his laughing bandmates and your brother in the background. Robbie doesn't seem to notice your unease because he jumps right into the question, unaware of your worry.

"Will you got out with me?" he blurts out.

Your eyes widen. "Pardon?" You whisper, staring at Robbie like he’d suddenly grown two heads.

The poor boy looks just as confused now. "Y-yeah. Like on a date? We can go to the arcade or—"

Your brother laughs from behind, pushing on one of the band members and your heart thumps against your chest. Is this some cruel joke? Is that way your brother had said what he’d?

Tears fill your eyes. "You're being mean," you whisper, looking at Robbie and his heart shatters.

"Wait—" he calls but you're already rushing out the door. Confused and determined to make this better, Robbie follows you.

"Y/n, wait, please," Robbie jogs up to you and takes your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. "Did I do something wrong?"

You wipe at your tears with your palm. "I don't want to talk to you right now," you whisper and try and push by him but he won't let you. Your tears only fall quicker.

"Please," Robbie pleads and his thumb presses against your cheek, wiping a tear. You jerk your head and shove his hand away.

"Did my brother put you up to this?"

"Put me up to what?"

"This! Using the feelings I have for you as a way to have a good laugh. Because it's not funny. I know you wouldn't date me. He said so himself!" you ramble, outstretching your arm towards the window and Robbie turns to look inside where your brother and his friends are laughing and joking around.

Turning back to you, Robbie's gaze is hard: "Your brother never said anything about your feelings, Y/n, and I certainly never said you weren't my type! I've been crushing on you since year one!"

You fall silent, your cheeks still wet from tears.

Robbie walks closer and cups your cheek. "I like you. I really like you," he smiles.

You're star struck. "Y-you do?"

Robbie hums and dips his head. He kisses you, quick and light, and then pulls away. Your lips tingle and your eyes are wide. Without thinking, you wrap your arm around him and pull him into you as you kiss him back. It's clumsy and still a little rushed, but it feels like a real first kiss.

When he pulls away, he nuzzles his nose against yours and asks, "Whatever your idiot brother said, he was wrong. You need to know that," he says and presses another kiss to your lips.

You nod, smiling. You relax and Robbie grins.

"Good. Saturday at the Arcade?"

You nod again, still too shocked to say much else and when Robbie leans down and whispers, "And don't tell your brother just yet, will ya? I need to make him sweat a little for messing with you like that," you just laugh, smiling wider than you ever have.

[bm571158]

Free Now LN4 (Part 38)

"Well?!" Flo demanded the second Lando answered the phone. "How did it go?"

"How did what go?" He asked.

"Don't play dumb with me, how did it go with Lottie?"

"How did you know I was there?" He asked, confused.

"Well, mum said you were coming over to go to McLaren so I took a guess, and now you've just told me that you were there. So come on, tell me!" Flo demanded.

"Lottie didn't call you?" He asked.

"No." Flo told him. "I was going to call her, but you're my brother and it's way easier to interrogate you. Now, tell me."

The way Lando sighed into the phone was enough of an answer for Flo to know that it hadn't gone the way that he had expected it to. "Oh...." She mumbled.

"She uh... she's better, she's happy." He sighed, as if that somehow made what he was feeling less painful. He supposed in a way it did. Seeing her happy, knowing that she had the chance to get back to doing what she loved and finally something to look forward to was great, but it hadn't made it any easier walking back out of her house and getting in his car to drive away.

"I'm sorry, Lando." Flo said quietly. "I never should've suggested you go there, I really thought that she'd change her mind and it would all be fine... shit.... Are you alright?"

"No." He admitted. "But I'm about five minutes away from MTC so I haven't really got time to worry about it right now I guess."

"Why don't you come here tonight, rather than going back to Monaco?" Flo suggested. She hated the idea that he was going to fly back to Monaco to sit alone in that apartment and be miserable on his own.

"It's alright." He reassured her. "I need to get back. I've got stuff I need to sort before Zandvoort. I'll be okay it's just... well, it sucks."

"I'm so sorry Lando, I really thought all she needed was to see you again and she'd realise that she's being stupid. What did she say?"

"It's fine Flo, really." Lando brushed her off, he didn't want to get into the details of what had been said with his sister. "I need to go now, I'm at MTC and I'm already running late." It was a lie, he was actually early and still fifteen minutes away but he just wanted to get out of the conversation.

"Okay, call me later?" Flo suggested. "And if you change your mind and want to come and stay then the offer is still open, okay?"

"Okay." He agreed quietly, ending the call. He had no intention of going to Flo's no matter how many times she suggested it. He just wanted to be on his own where he could think and digest what Lottie had said to him.

He was still sat in his car staring into space thinking about it when Oscar had arrived at MTC, tapping on the car window and making Lando jump.

"You alright mate?" Oscar asked him as he scrambled out of the car, realising he'd now only got a couple of minutes before he was supposed to be somewhere. "You looked like you were miles away."

"I uh... yeah. I've got a lot on my mind I guess." Lando mumbled, shutting the car door behind him.

"I know it's none of my business..." Oscar said hesitantly, and Lando looked up at him in surprise. His teammate was quiet, never stuck his nose into anyone else's business, he always had been. "But you and Lottie... there's so many rumours going around online and I haven't seen her for a few races now. Is everything okay?"

Lando hesitated, halfway tempted to just lie to Oscar and tell him it was all fine. He knew Oscar wouldn't believe him, but he was probably too polite to call him out on it and it might put an end to the conversation. Lando knew what Oscar was referring to, the second he'd shown up in Spain without Lottie beside him the rumour mill had well and truly started turning.

"You shouldn't believe what you see on the internet." Lando muttered. If you believed what the gossip sites and TikTok were saying he'd cheated on Lottie, she'd cheated on him, he'd proposed and she'd said no... the variations on the story were endless. Not a single one of them was correct, but obviously the people on the internet weren't worried about how factual it was, it was great reading.

"I don't." Oscar shrugged. "But there's no smoke without fire usually, and you're not telling me nothings going on."

"It's... it's complicated." Lando sighed. "But yeah, we're... we're not together anymore."

"I'm sorry mate." Oscar gave him a sympathetic smile, patting him on the shoulder. "That's rough."

"Ironically, a lot of the problem was all these gossip sites and people with cameras who are now having a great time speculating about what happened." Lando commented dryly.

"Ah.." Oscar gave him a knowing look, after all they'd all been there. "I really am sorry, she seemed like such a nice girl."

"Yeah." Lando sighed. "Me too."

Thankfully, Oscar seemed to have decided that his one brief venture into Lando's personal life was more than enough for the for a lifetime and hadn't brought it up again. Instead he'd gone a little over the top doing everything he could to keep the conversation away from that particular topic, changing the topic of conversation not so subtly any time anyone came remotely close to mentioning it and Lando had never been more grateful.

He'd said goodbye to Oscar and the team as quickly as he could at the end of the day, heading back to the airport to go back to Monaco, but not without checking his phone one more time on the off chance that Lottie might have called him. She hadn't, of course, she'd been very clear with him when he'd left hers that he shouldn't hang around waiting for her to call, but the hope that she might was definitely still there.

It wasn't until he was back in his apartment in Monaco, haphazardly shoving the clothes he needed to take to Zandvoort with him into a suitcase, that he really started to digest what she'd said to him.

None of it was anything that he could even try and argue with, and it was clear that she'd put as much thought into whether or not she could be with him as he had put into trying to persuade her to come back. It wasn't some impulsive decision that she had made as a result of what had happened in Monaco, it was clearly something that had been bubbling away underneath the surface for quite a while and that had just been the final straw.

He couldn't say he blamed her either, for not wanting to live her life in the media spotlight. He hated it too, missed the days of being able to go out and have fun without worrying about people recording him and it ending up on the internet. He didn't have a choice, just had to accept it and get on with it, but Lottie did have a choice. She could get away from it... it just meant that she had to get away from him.

So as much as it broke his heart and he wanted to plead with her to change her mind, he understood her reasoning. It just didn't make it any easier to accept.

He was still mulling it over in his mind as he arrived in Zandvoort. It wasn't his favourite race, the win there last year and his decision to throw out a 'simply lovely' in the heat of the moment after the race had been the beginning of a level of hatred on the internet that had been like nothing he'd ever experienced before. The seemingly innocuous comment that had slipped out of his mouth in the heat of the moment being taken as something it wasn't.

He'd had to delete all his social media off his phone for weeks after that race. The comments and posts were so vile that he hadn't been able to bring himself to even pretend he wasn't bothered. He'd gone back home to his parents to spend some time with them in the hope that might offer a distraction, anything to stop him from thinking about what people were saying.

As he walked back into the paddock in Zandvoort, a year later, the same uneasy feeling settled over him. It was Max's home race, of course everyone was rooting for him to win. It made sense that if hadn't been popular with the home crowd that Lando had won, it made sense that they'd started booing him as he went past on the track this year.

It all made sense, and yet he couldn't quell the horrible feeling of anxiety that came with it.

The pressure was on for this weekend. He had the lead in the championship but a reasonable, but not comfortable, margin. It was effectively his to lose now, and that was a terrifying prospect. Then there was the pressure of returning to a track that he'd absolutely dominated at the previous year, winning by a huge margin, and people were going to expect the same this year. He could hear them now if he didn't win, saying that last year had just been a fluke- luck not talent they'd say.

He'd worked himself up into such a frenzy about it that he was pacing up and down in his drivers room ahead of his media commitments, unable to sit still with all the nervous energy coursing through his body. If he had time he probably would've gone for a run around the track, he needed some kind of distraction and way to clear his head.

The interviews went along the lines he was expecting, and he repeated the answers that he'd become very well rehearsed in giving when it came to the inevitable questions about the championship and his rivalry with Max. They were the diplomatic answers that had been very carefully though out by the McLaren PR team, the ones that had been recycled so often by this point he knew them by heart. He wasn't even sure why journalists kept asking the question really. Had they not figured out that they only ever got the same answer from him?

He'd muddled his way through, tripping over his words a few times when someone had asked him a slightly more unexpected question, but he'd recovered quickly enough that hopefully no one would think anything of it. Certainly no one from the team had said anything. Then before he knew it, the day was over and he was in the car on the way back to the hotel, ready to spend another night alone with his thoughts and absolutely no distractions.

Lottie meanwhile, had been watching the tv coverage as she always did. While no one at the track may have picked up on his rather erratic mood, she spotted within the first two minutes of the interview she was watching that something was wrong. That frown line on his forehead was back, the way he was fidgeting around in front of the camera completely unable to stand still, the way his fingers kept finding their way to his neck to fiddle with his necklace and the way he kept adjusting his cap on his head every time he spoke... it was nothing like the calm and collected interviews she'd watched him give as of late. She just couldn't put her finger on why.

She'd dialled his number before her brain really had the chance to catch up with her actions, and in the split second of indecision that she'd had about whether or not she should quickly hang up he'd then answered and taken away her opportunity to back out. She wasn't sure if their new found agreement to be friends really extended to her calling him up like this to check in on him, but she supposed she was about to find out.

"Lottie?" He sounded puzzled as he answered. "What are you doing? Is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"I was actually calling to ask you that." She told him sheepishly. "Sorry, I shouldn't have called. I don't know what I was thinking really, I just..."

"You just what?" He asked.

"I was just watching your interview on tv and you looked like you could use someone to talk to." She said softly. "Are you okay?"

"Was the interview that bad?" He groaned. "No one here said anything."

"No, it wasn't." Lottie reassured him. "But I know you well enough to know when something is wrong, so tell me."

"It'll be okay, I'm just a bit nervous. It's Max's home crowd, they're never that pleased when someone else does well... I think I just feel a bit funny after all that last year." He mumbled. "It'll be fine, I'll be fine."

"I think the first step would be for you to stop pacing up and down the hotel room." She suggested.

He stopped mid step, looking around in confusion. "How did you..."

"I can't see you." She laughed, because she could just picture the confused look on his face as he tried to work out how she knew. "But I know you well enough to know exactly what you do when you're stressed. I'm not wrong, am I?"

"No." He admitted. "You're not."

"So, stop pacing. Go and take a nice warm shower, order yourself some dinner. Play something online with Max for a bit and then get some sleep. You'll be absolutely fine tomorrow, I know you will. I'll be cheering for you, even if some of the crowd aren't."

"Thank you." He whispered. "I've really missed your pep talks. I wish you were here. It was all so much better when you were here."

"Lando." She sighed into the phone. "Come on, let's not do this again. Especially not when you've got a race to think about."

"I know, I know." He agreed unhappily. "I just miss you. Being friends is great, but it at the same time it's really, really shit."

"I'm sorry Lando. It's the best I can do at the moment." She told him quietly. "I miss you too, but I need to do what's right for me. I'm always here though, if you need me. You can call me and I'll talk some sense into you any time."

"Maybe you could come to Abu Dhabi with Flo?" He suggested. "It'll be the end of the season. You can talk some sense into me in person then."

"You'll be world champion by then, you won't need me to talk some sense into you." She reassured him.

"Please?" He asked again. "It would be so good to have you there." Abu Dhabi was an age away, but it would give him something to look forward to at least.

"Let's see how things go." Lottie suggests, not wanting to commit but also not wanting to upset him by saying no. "I've got to go now, but you'll be fine tomorrow. I promise. Good luck, Lando."

She'd been right of course, she always was. She'd watched on with fond smile at the tv screen as he'd come home to win the race on Sunday. Not quite by the same landslide margin that he had done the year before, but a win was a win worthless. She quickly fired off a message to him to congratulate him and tell him to enjoy the celebrations.

She stared at the tv screen with a wistful smile as she watched him take to the podium, the proud look on his face as the anthem was played. She tried again to remind herself that she was doing the right thing, for both of them, but as she watched on all she could really think about was how much she wished she was there with him.

The problem was, it came and went in waves. One minute she was convincing herself that she was wrong, that she was denying herself a chance at happiness with someone she really, truly loved because she'd let the opinion of a load of strangers on the internet get in her head. The next minute though she would remember how it had made her feel watching her life and appearance get torn to shreds on the internet for other people's entertainment. She would remember what it felt like to not be able to walk down the street without having a dozen cameras pointed at her, the suffocating feeling of not ever being able to go anywhere and just relax.

It was a coin toss- the two things she so desperately wanted seemingly impossible to have at the same time. She could be with the man that she loved, or she could have her privacy and live her life away from the media to  keep her sanity in tact. The two seemed to be mutually exclusive, no matter how hard she had tried to look for a middle ground. So no, as much as she wanted to be there and be the one that he came running to when he got off that podium and was ready to celebrate, she couldn't be that person for him, as much as she wished that she was.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Headcanon - Helluva Boss / Hazbin Hotel Crossover

But not in the way you think.

----------------

Basic concepts:

You have Angel Dust who was Mafia and hated it, esp bc of his dad

Alastor who loves to take out the nastier elements and clearly killed his dad for being a bastard.

Charlie who is full of sunshine and misguided dreams

And then you have IMP

------------------

Maybe Crimson and his goons get Moxxie cornered somewhere, and it catches the attention of Alastor, who was following up on the whole ''Mimzy situation'' from a few months prior now the extermination is over.

Millie is caught in an electrified net, they want her Alive to punish for the whole wedding debacle. 'That fuckin broad killed all my guys, she needs to learn her place' said the macho mafioso from behind like 40 armed guards the little cretin.

Blitzo is contending with Striker, who is playing best friends with Crimson right now.

Loona… well she WAS right there, but something caught her interest on one of the nearby shopfront screens, where it will turn out Vox was playing games with the minds of viewers again.

--

Alastor had been passing the area, mostly to make a point of still being alive to Vox as he saunters past the stronghold, when things began to explode around him. Which, honestly, not unusual.

However, when peering into the smouldering crater of several buildings and storefronts, it was clear a rather nasty altercation was in progress. 

“What the FUCK?” comes a familiar voice, as Angel Dust appears at his left shoulder. Those sharp eyes had snapped alert and were roving the scene for information as that third pair of arms materialised, tommy guns and all.

Ah yes, the other reason for this whole foray was a request from Charlotte to pick up the adult entertainer, as some of his fans had been getting rather… unable to understand boundaries as of late. And as someone who could enforce them in an eldritch manner, Alastor seemed a positive choice.

Only because Husk was overly sensitive when it came to Angel's protection and would fight anyone anywhere if they looked at him funny; Niffty wouldn’t differentiate between good and bad interactions; Vaggie was a bit twitchy to be a bodyguard right now; Lucifer didn’t do public real well right now; Charlie didn’t want to go near Vee HQ for a while… and let’s face it, Alastor was going to go there anyway to upset the television demon. 

Not normally one to meddle in others’ affairs… hah! Can you imagine? 

No, Alastor was going to get in there and have a look, but he sent his shadow to scout it out first… the goons definitely looked like the ones Mimzy had brought to the hotel a while back, but then there were a lot of sharklike hellborn, and he wasn’t going to be accused of racism by slaughtering wholesale (under these circumstances).

From up close, you could see the little lapel pins clearly, and yes… those were definitely the hellborn he was after.

“Why, my dear Angel Dust, would you care to join me in some tomfoolery? They appear to be related to the mooks who decided to ‘run up on our turf’, as they say. Do you require any rizzing before the battle?”

Angel just about got whiplash from that one. “Okay, who the FUCK is teaching you these terms and why? I thought I was hallucinating when you said 'Fs in chat for the king's sense of tste' this morning when Short King was putting more syrup than pancake on his plate. But you just-... what the-...

Never mind, we’re gonna fix your old timey ass’s vocabulary when we get back t’the hotel. But yeah, I’m always down for a quick bang sesh…” He winked lasciviously. Laughing at the eye roll he received.

They advance on the unsuspecting fools.

Charlie was NOT going to be pleased.

“MILLIE!” comes the agonised cry of a small dapperly-dressed imp being pinned to the ground by sharklike hellborn several times his weightclass. Blood drips from a gash across the temple as he struggles to free himself.

A female imp is fighting to free herself from an all-encompassing mesh net that sparked violently, her muscles fighting against her from the shocks. “M-Moxxie, I’m fine! Pr-omise!” 

“Oh you little daddyfucker, I’m gonna rip your goddamn horns off and shove them up HIS ass!” Blitzo yelled, firing wildly at Crimson between dodging fists from Striker. “Loona, Looney-Petuney where are you?!”

“Oh shut yer holes, ya fuckin’ whore. You think I don’t know that ya banging that blue-blood? Is that any kinda example for you to set for my son? He’s already a weak waste of space, and that’s before we get t’the limp-wristed part… but you certainly ain’t helping.”

“Do-Don’t listen t’him honey, you’re perfect as y’are!” Millie yells, she’s managed to tear a few threads with her claws, but the smell of burning flesh is ever present.

“Yeah, I’m the only Daddy you need!” Blitzo calls back, pauses as he rethinks the statement, and adds, “I mean, daddy-ish figure, but we can negotiate if you and Millie ever wanna-... ow, would you stop fucking biting me? I’m trying to have a meaningful emotional moment here with my bangable employees?!”

“Hey now, you little traitor… I think you’d best give me a little more of that attention. Got a score to settle with you after that last mess you left me with. Gonna make you a new hole, and if you’re nice… I might just fill it for ya.” Striker snarls, lunging with a blade outstretched. 

“Oh fuck you, can’t you go back to the horse thing? That was at least a little sexy.”

“ENOUGH!” Crimson shouts, firing off at Blitz who can’t dodge both blade and bullet, resulting in the projectile hurling him several feet down the alley in a bloody mess. “Now, I’ve had about enough of this whole fucking mess you’ve made for me, boy… every moment you draw breath you’re bringing shame t’The Family and I can’t be having that. There’s time for me to start again, make a better brat… but you know the sayin, ‘out with the old...'".

He cocks the gun. “Say hello t’ya mother for me.”

Someone is screaming his name as the barrel comes sharply into focus... and that’s when Crimson’s hurled several feet away into what was once a solid brick wall. 

“What the FUCK?”

“Hahaha! Why hello, what’s happening here then?” comes a too-loud, violently cheerful and utterly spine chilling voice. “My, my... you see, my associate and I couldn’t help but overhear the ruckus and came over to investigate! I’d advise you not to move an inch, if you would, for my friend here has excellent aim and I find bullet-riddled meat so tediously chewy.”

Crimson got a full look at the tall red fucker getting in his business, and blanched at the sight.

Two male sinners stood there backlit by fire, smoke and the sparking neon lights of the city. The pink one had to be eight feet fucking tall with six arms, sporting a definite scowl just as sharply as he held two tommy guns that appeared to be of Carmine make.

The red one, that freak was smiling rigidly as black tendrils extended from his back… his own hands bare of any weapon.

With a click of those talons her calls fingers, akin to the sound of bone breaking, the electricity that had been surging through the net wrapped about Millie ceases completely. The voltage fizzling out.

With a sharp grin, Crimson fires off a round at the red one, confident smirk falling to a snarl as the Sinner didn’t do more than roll with the impact to his shoulder. “Who the fuck are you? This ain’t your business… get outta here.”

“Why, Angel… someone who hasn’t seen your various portfolio of work! How truly unusual... shall I alert the media?" The red one croons, eyes going black with red… dials? Were those dials? Appearing in the depths.

“Heh, well that makes like four people in all’a Hell… so I think my hit rate is better than miss.” 

“Indeed! Well, well, well, to answer your question I am Alastor, pleasure to meet you, truly a pleasure! And this is Angel Dust, infamous adult entertainer and excellent marksman, so do try to run… I rather enjoy seeing how far fear can get you before he blows your head off.” There’s a pause as this Alastor turns to Angel. “Do at least try to hold in the innuendo, I can sense it on the tip of your tongue…”

“You know what else could be on the tip’a my tongue…?” 

“Hah! Save it for your talkies, my dear fellow… now, where were we? Ah yes, dealing with this unpleasant creature. First and foremost, I have been looking for whichever fool decided to send his little puppets after my dear friend Mimzy and ended up damaging our lovely hotel.”

“What? Mi-... HER? That fuckin’ bitch? She stole so much shit, killed a dozen’a my guys and ran off with the goods she was supposed ta move in this damn ring. You sayin’ I should just forgive and forget you fucking freak?”

“Oooh,” Angel made a show of hissing between his sharp teeth in faux sympathy. “Yeah, so Radio Daddy ain’t like it when you talk about his friends like that…”

“Too true, and-... you know, we need to talk about the increasingly bizarre nicknames you keep creating. Anyhow, secondly, well… we’re nosy little altruists slash sadistic brawlers who love a spot of bloodshed, who rather dislike when the powerful are mistreating those below. Especially when a father is threatening the life of their child, little mobster, right in front of Sinners who have a distinct distaste for it.”

“Wait, are you the fucker that ATE my guys? The goddamn Radio Demon? Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”

“Well, I assume that in general I am god-dammned, but I don’t think he did it personally…” muses Alastor, while Angel Dust stifles a laugh. “Still, I don’t appreciate when a friend or even a thrall is targeted. Torture and murder are fine things, but in moderation my good imp, you can’t do this willy nilly, yeeting bodies hither and yon, that is simply cringe of you.”

Angel was going to die again if this didn’t stop. He was trying so hard to keep a straight face. Who the fuck was teaching him these phrases?

“We don’t really get along with those who pick on those weaker than them, or their kids, especially not whatever the fuck this is. And dontcha do the whole ‘for the Family’ bullshit with me, bub, ‘cause I literally lived and died that life already. Willing to go a lot further now I can regenerate, but you can’t…” Angel advises, his eyes tracking more goons sliding out of the shadows.

“Cute little ambush, all looming out of the shadows like that. Think you’re forgetting who owns them, huh? Al, you want ‘em or can I shoot ‘em?”

A rather satirical sounding waltz began as the shadows about the encroaching creatures hardened, locking them in places. “Do have your fun, Angel, I will see to this situation over here first… join when you have a moment!”

Bullets sprayed through immobilised bodies for a few seconds. “Hey, actually, can y’let some run, I’ve been meaning to test my range since the Extermination and well, the Hotel ain’t got no range.”

“Of course, the idea is quite based… pookie.” 

Angel nearly shot a flying demon out of the sky as he turned around abruptly, his heart thundering from the strain of this weird interaction. Was he still high? Did he stand too close to Val during that last shoot? 

“Your toys are escaping, which is a Big Yikes, bestie. This discussion is for another time. Assuming I ever decide to tell you. Now, are you Gucci?”

“Y-yeah I’m Gucci. But seriously, who the fuck is sliding you slang under the damn table, is it Rosie? Charlie wouldn’t. You and the King are fighting too often for it, so who the fu-...?!”

This was starting to feel like a fever dream.

“Nevermind that, my good fellow, see to your targets. Now, I am going to count to three and everyone will take their hands, tentacles and other appendages off of one another or I’m coming over there!”

He sighs and rolls his eyes at the sudden burst of giggles from Angel Dust, and apparently a rather tall imp that was bleeding a few feet away. “Do try to contain yourselves. One… Two… Two and a half…”

Sharklike demons hurled themselves from their place atop the littlest demon, who crawled over to the one in the net. Crimson rolled upright to take a step towards them, but found his way impeded by an inky black tendril.

“Millie, are you okay? How badly are you hurt?” Moxie gasps, untangling her and not really noticing the small shadowy hands that helped until she was free. He jolts backwards, shocked, but returns to his wife immediately.

“I-I’m fine, Mox, nothing that won’t heal. You need t’go help Blitz, I think I saw that fucker Stryker over there get a shot in.”

“This little fellow?” Asks the figure who looms over them, with the reptillian ensnared in a tentacle, snarling furiously at being held upside down.

“Fucking Sinners always think they’re too good for the likes’a us and you sell-outs do whatever they damn want, as long as they pay. Ain’t nothin’ but a buncha whores…” snarls the cowboy.

Somewhere in the distance, a familiar theme song starts as the cowboy frees himself momentarily, grinning brightly as if he was in control of the situation. It fades as Alastor tilts his head and snaps the music out of existence. 

“Oh really, I’ve heard of people being quite full of themselves without cause, but to have your own theme song feels somewhat… masturbatory. You should really try something with a little more life, like Jazz. Now, what to do with you?”

With another snap, a portal full of tendrils appears, immobilising both Crimson and Striker.

“Would anyone have any suggestions? I do enjoy listener participation, don’t be afraid to call in your ideas now.”

“Oh I have a few ideas, but they’re mostly around how deep you can get those tentacles if I ask. However, in lieu of that, your up-tight-i-ness how about you maybe rip a few limbs off and we’ll see what’s left of old Stryker here, huh? He’s been bragging about his plans to kill Overlords and Goetia for like, fuckin’ forever and it’s so annoying!” Blitz interjects, grinning coldly at the now-sweating cowboy.

“You intended to kill Overlords, little one? Hmmm? Have you ever actually seen one up close?” Alastor’s grin widened, the dial eyes spinning as he took note of the angelic blade tucked into the cowboy’s belt. “Would you like to…?”

And with that, he expanded to a far larger form, drinking in the fear that exuded from the previously cocksure one. With a casual swipe, a few remaining shark demons were scooped into his mouth like the morsels they were. Stryker was plucked carefully up to stare at those wide eyes.

“Do feel free to scream, it makes an excellent accompaniment to the next song.” He encourages, before plucking off one of the man’s arms and tossing it carelessly away. One of the imp’s legs was next. Alastor dropped him back to the pavement, stunning the fool, as a tendril snagged that blade free from the would-be assassin.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck me, that was HOT! Sir, I am absolutely hard as fuck right now for that tentacle shit, what can I-... I mean, WE at IMP do to thank you for that little show.” 

Alastor was caught off guard by the sentiment, and laughed as he shrank down.

“No need, my good man. There was an opportunity to pummel two drones with a single stone, and I don’t like to waste such little miracles.”

“Well, he sure looks fucked up… you want to see him do a little jig?” Angel offers, hefting the guns suggestively. The sinner returning to the small gathering covered in blood splatter and grinning wildly. Alastor cannot help but feel that some of the mirth is due to Angel overhearing the uh, offer, provided by the Imp and his compatriots.

“No, I think I’d like to see him bleed out right here after all the shit he’s caused us, Mr Dust. Also would you sign something for us? It’ll have pride of place in the office, promise.”

“Hell yeah I will, always happy to meet a fan… or fans, plural? Either way, nice ta see ya.”

Angel pulls out a small slightly crumpled poster from his pocket, and scrawls on it. Say what you will, the man was always prepared to run into a fan… that’s also what the taser in his other pocket was for, if they got too close for firefighting. 

“Hey, you fuckers best not ignore me! Do you know who I am? I’m fucking Crimson, head of the-... mmmpgh?!” 

“I think you’d best be silent now.” The Radio Demon’s neck did something impossible to stare at him. “Crimson, is it? I do not believe there is a single person in this entire area who particularly cares if you live or die right this moment,  and while I would love to guest star you on my broadcast… the sins of the father should be weighed by the son, don’t you think?”

Angel knelt next to Moxxie, Millie and the still bleeding Blitz. 

“Alright, I know it can be a big decision to take ya dad out… especially when he’s been a bastard to ya your whole life up til now, but if ya not ready then Al can always drop him into one of those little weird-ass pocket dimensions of his until you are.”

“I-... thank you, sirs, but… why are you helping us?” Moxie asked, feeling very small and exhausted right now.

“Hey, my family was in the damn mob when I was alive and they never approved’a my lifestyle… I know what it’s like ta have someone you’re supposed to trust try to beat you down in every way imaginable. Just lucky that I got the chance to watch him die by my own hands ‘fore I did!” Angel laughed, the sound delightfully cruel. He pokes Alastor. “Hey, tell him the thing, give him some confidence to make a choice…”

“Very well, but only because this whole situation has a strange frequency to it… oddly familiar in a detestable manner.” The Radio Demon responds. “Moxxie, was it? Normally I would compel you with a deal to keep this secret, but given that blasted Vox has been watching this whole time, it will likely not remain so even with one. The truth of it is that the crimes my own father committed were numerous and violent over his lifetime, using the power he was afforded at birth to do so to anyone considered beneath him… but in the end, he was simply a mortal man who could beg for his life as his blood drained into the bayou. And again as I shredded his soul into my broadcast. We will not tell you what to do with this piece of rotten meat, but his life is yours to judge… do let me know if you require a specific weapon.”

“...at this point, Mox, I think you could use my dick as a bludgeon, this is so fuckin’ hot!” Blitz muttered, expression joyful. 

“Wh… why is it always… sex with you people…?” Stryker huffed out, exhaling low and long as the life left him. 

“Okay, now THAT was kinda hot.” Millie admits, and Moxxie laughs, nuzzling her face. She’s badly injured, but neither sinner can fix that level of harm. They’d need help.

With a deep breath, Moxie pulled out his gun. The very one Blitz had gifted him after his first proper kill at IMP, that he’d scrawled their names into the handle of when no one was looking. Millie would love it, Loona would roll her eyes and Blitz would say something that was masking his affection. 

“Dad, I thought I was clear the last time we ran into one another in Greed, that I don’t want or need you in my life and your absence makes me happy. I hate that you killed Mum, I hate that you tried to hurt Millie and Blitz and force me to marry my asshole ex just cause he had money, but I especially fucking hate that at no point in your entire fucking life did you ever think to take responsibility for the awful shit you’ve done. And I’m tired of always wondering when you’re going to put a gun to my head, or poison me, or hurt someone I care about just to force me to be like you… alone, cruel and miserable. I like who I am, and what I do, and those around me. So I guess what I’m trying to say, is… go fuck yourself, Crimson.”

The bullet imploded the front of the mob boss’s face, tearing through to the other side in a shower of delightful gore. 

“Way to go MOX!” Blitz shouted, punching the air with the hand not attached to his bloody shoulder. “Fuck yes, I knew you could do it! Best way to solve daddy issues is to just fuckin’ kill ‘em!”

“I’m so proud of you, Honey!” Millie smiled, her eyes filled with tears of joy, and her posture deliberately still in order to minimise how much pain she was exhibiting. “You did it!”

“I-... I-... wow.” He felt amazing! He was gonna throw up! He was going to fuck everyone here! He was going to cry! Fuck, what was this?

“Take a deep breath, it’s gonna feel fuckin’ weird for a bit, and you might even get sad about the old bastard for a while, but that’s normal.” Angel comforts, resting a hand on the imp’s shoulder. “I even missed my fucker of a father a few days after, but it passes. Promise.”

“Why yes, it definitely will, dear. Did you want anything specific done with the bodies, or shall I ask my Shade to drop them off to dearest Rosie, she likes unusual flavours best. Hard to get around here, though.” 

“I-...what? Oh, yeah… might as well not let it go to waste.” Moxie waves a hand. 

The dual corpses of Stryker and Crimson are swallowed by shadow, leaving nothing but traces of blood upon the ground before them.

“Well, this has been a fuckin’ weird day… who wants tacos? And where’s Loona? LOONEY-PETUNEY WHERE ARE YOU?” 

“Well, it’s nice ta meetcha all, but I have ta say you guys look like shit right now. What say you come back to the Hazbin Hotel with us and we’ll sweet talk the staff into giving a little healing to ya.”

“Oh, the hotel! I heard something about it on the television, and the exterminations that happened recently. Didn’t you guys win?”

“We sure fuckin’ did, Toots! Lost a few people too, but… we took down that shitlord Adam, which actually required the King to get in the ring to deal with after he targeted Charlie. Uh, I mean, Princess Charlotte, who runs the place.”

“You know the Princess? I’ve always wanted to… meet her…” Millie’s excitement couldn’t eclipse her pain any further and she was starting to pale. As was Blitz, but he was busy striding through the wreckage towards the few undamaged shopfronts there where a number of citizens still waited despite the obvious danger.

“Loona? Are you okay? What the FUCK is happening here?!”

“Ah. Vox has her and the others bespelled by one of his tacky little commercials, one moment…” Rapping his staff against the screen display, Alastor whistles and the pixels distort. “Oh Podcast, are you in there? Do let these toys go… the product you are selling is already ash, or were you too busy acting quite the voyeur to the little event to notice?”

Electricity crackled out of the screen and shaped into a familiar overlord.

“AL-... I mean, Al, what the fuck was that? You and Val’s little whore interjecting in random shit for, what? The hell of it? Ugh, of course you would so fucking reckless. What did you want again?”

“For you to release the trapped crowd, they are likely to be immolated shortly, and I need to borrow one for the hotel. Aren’t you bold to question my motives… I know what you were doing in that little control tower of yours, watching us fight. Such a perverse little thing you are…” 

“I’ll let them go if you make a deal with me…?”

“Vox, I was merely informing you of the choice to voluntarily remove your influence or I would break it by myself, to give you the chance to make the right choice. What could you possibly offer me?”

“Must you be such a condescending old-t1111m33y prick? Fine. But that’s for… the entertainment value alone. I’d be willing to wheel and deal bigger if you ever wanted to go on that da-...”

“This will suffice, thank you Podcast.”

With a grumble, Vox hurled himself into a nearby camera.

Dazed sinners and hellborn staggered slightly as their minds came back to them.

Loona found herself nearly hurled to the ground by the force of Blitz’s frantic hug. 

“Looney-petuny! Oh thank Satan you’re okay!” 

“Dad? What happened? I was just looking at the TV and then-...?”

“Rots the brain, dear. Try not to look at the idiot box too often. Now come along, we need to be going to the Hotel, where we should be able to fetch medical aid for your father and the others. Come along.” The jovial tone was a tad forced, as the pair of Hellborn trailed after the Radio Demon, reuniting with the others.

“Come now, I think it would be best to shadow travel there… but some of you may not take to it well given your current states. Hmmm, there’s nothing for it, Angel if you would be so kind as to carry one of our new compatriots, I can come up with options for the others.”

Angel scooped up Blitz and held him in his tertiary arms, one of his primary hands was pressing a red handkerchief on the bullet wound. If anyone had a little tingle of thrill from the experience, they didn’t mention it to the other.

With deliberate care, Alastor’s tendrils slipped about the parts of Millie that seemed least deep fried, and laced about like a sling. She was drawn close to hover over an arm. There in case of unforeseen discorporation of the tendrils, but not touching. She was shivering in discomfort, so they would need to speed this up.

“Miss Loona, would you be so kind as to carry this fellow? If you don’t feel able, I can definitely try something else… I know Vox’s little eye trick can make one feel quite shook, and it can hit different for everyone.” Alastor said, enjoying seeing multiple eye twitches from Angel Dust.

He pauses, thinking of how best to phrase this kindly so as not to offend a lady, as his mother would burst out of heaven to kill him again if he should try. “And… would you mind remaining on the furthermost side of Angel Dust as we travel?”

“Whoa, hey, you prejudiced against hellhounds? I take back my erection for you earlier!” Blitz yells, and that just about short-circuits Alastor. It certainly was the cause of several exploding neon signs across the way.

Loona growls at him.

He blinks. “What? No, not at all… it has to do with my death, and being torn apart by hunting dogs, ha hah! I suspect dear Charlotte will try to ‘fix it’ for me when she discovers that little tidbit… but until her majesty forces us all through psychotherapy, this will have to do. If you are amenable?”

“Ugh, yikes dude… I totally get it. I’ll be over here… line of sight and all.” There was a pause. “I uh, I think your show is kinda cool, in a retro way though…” 

“Splendid dear, I will have my shadow show you the Radio Tower if you so choose when we get back. Once we get to know one another, why, I may even be able to show you a few of the dances I often speak about… dancing today is too tame, we used to really throw one another around in the old days. All about trust!” 

“Don’t let Char-Char hear ya say that or we’ll all be doing the Lindey Hop for next month’s group thing. Ugh… I mean, it’s been ages since I did that, and I’m pretty sure having more arms’ going to complicate things.”

“Nonsense, Angel! If Vox could do it with his balance impediment, you should be more than capable… not that I particularly care for the details of your profession, but I understand a high level of strength, dexterity and flexibility are required for at least the dancing portion. If you have mastery of that, then who knows!”

“Aw, thanks Al! That’s actually really encouraging… I used to like the weird social dancing shit we got up to back then. Ugh, we’re getting all nostalgia-y and I feel like someone’s gonna ‘Ok Boomer’ me.”

“Hah, I actually was but you beat me to the punch!”

“You have to fuckin’ spill the beans on who is feeding you this terminology, if only for my mental health, man…”

“Hmmm, no. I think I’ll keep that to myself. Come along now everyone, only a few more blocks and we’ll be in range of help. How about something soothing?”

Soft jazz plays as the strange sight strides through town. 

And so the bizarre sight of two sinners, a hellhound and three injured imps arrived upon the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel that afternoon. Causing quite the stir as Charlie opened the doors to the chaotic sight.

“Welcome Ho-ooooooooly Shit, what happened?!” Charlie’s brilliant beam dropped immediately, and then Vaggie was there, spear to hand. She aimed it at Alastor out of instinct, and dropped it a second later as she saw the injured imp in his, well not arms but tendrils at the very least.

“Good afternoon dear Charlotte, Vagatha, could we trouble you for some first aid for these delightful new companions? I was just out tracking down the source of those mobsters from a while back, the ones Mimzy brought of course, and we ran into a troubling family situation that needed some intervention unfortunately.”

“And which one did you make a deal with in order to give such compassionate consideration, hmmm?” Vaggie growled. 

“Why, none. Dearest Vagatha, can you not trust your hotelier after all this time?” he teased, and she grumbled something quite derogatory, but her eyes were on the Wrath Imp in his charge. “Do we have anything that can effectively treat electrocution burns?”

Husk was already halfway down the stairs with a first aid kit from the second floor, it was a tad fancier than the one in the lobby. 

It thudded violently when it hit the countertop, clicking open to dispense a number of wipes and pads to help at least clean the grime from the wounds first.

“Niff, we might need ya to sew up these guys, can ya come out?” Husk called, aiming for the ceiling vent that the little demoness popped out of. With a snap of Alastor’s fingers, she was cleaned of all soot and grime, sterilised magically.

“Heheheheheeee, where? Where?! I have my threads!”

“One moment while we clean and assess the wounds, dear.” he pauses, thinking and ultimately grimacing to the best of his ability, ears flattening. “Charlotte my dear, would your father be about this hotel today? I fear he may be the only one with the ability to help miss… Millie, I believe her name is.”

“What? Oh, yes! Yes he’s in his room! Vaggie, would you…?”

“Of course, babe, you know I can get them by hook or by crook and all that.”

“Soooooo… Alastor, Angel Dust, would you mind telling me what happened?” Charlie asks in a very subtle and convincing way. 

“Al came to pick me up from my job, and we ran inta a few citizens in need of support… that’s all. These guys are Moxxie, that’s Blitz, that one’s Millie and I’m pretty sure the badass hellhound over there’s name is Loona. See, Mox’s dad was tryna’ kill him, and well, Al and I thought that wasn’t good enough. So we stepped in.”

Charlie’s expression went through the full gamut from horrified to hopeful to concerned and chucked a uey to go back to hopeful. “You tried to help someone? Just because? Oooooh, I am so proud of you both!”

“Ah… I mean, it was a bit fun to shoot someone again, and Al ate a few guys but it wasn’t too bad overall.”

Charlie wasn’t listening, she was shaking Moxxie’s hand and introducing herself to the overwhelmed sharpshooter as he waited his turn to be patched up. On a barstool nearby Husk was holding onto Blitz to steady the guy as Niffty’s tiny fingers carefully wiggled the bullet free of the wound, he seemed mildly blissed out by whatever had been provided for pain relief.

Alastor was near one of the couches, but had yet to release the imp, uncertain if the fabric would be of detriment to such wounds. For Sinners and especially Overlords, you needed to get clothing or other materials out of a wound relatively quickly before they started to heal over or you had to cut it out later. It was not clear to him if Imps had the same level of ability.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” came a somewhat smug voice, as Blitz and Moxxie’s jaws collectively hit the floor. Lucifer fucking Morningstar appeared before them all from a portal, Vaggie climbing out after him, to surveil the chaotic scene. “Imps, huh? Been a while since I needed to heal any hellborn… so let's see what I can do. Hmmm, did you do this to her?”

Angry radio feedback blared across the room for a moment as Alastor glared at the King. “Why your Lowness, I understand your attention span is quite short, but do try to recall I do not utilise electricity in the same manner as that blasted picture box. Our dear Charlotte here was just mentioning that you may be the best option to assist young Miss Millicent here with her injuries… I am hoping that was the correct choice, or am I ‘delulu’?”

“I don’t know what that last word was but shut the fuck up, Al, so I can focus on healing. Ugh, you pompous piece of shi-...” 

“Dad, please, we talked about this! And Alastor, you are both important to me and I need you to get along especially now. Don’t make me point at the portrait of Sir Pentious and cry, because… you know… I will…” she was fighting back tears already, and both demons pulled back on their griping rapidly.

“Of course, Charlotte.”

“Anything for you duckling.”

Golden light permeated the room as Millie’s skin smoothed out, the rancid scent of burnt flesh subsided gently, and her tense muscles settled. She blinked her eyes open, and startled back as she ran into an unfamiliar and oddly angelic face.

“Hello there, nice to meet you I’m Lucifer.”

“The fuckin’ DEVIL?! Ooooh, my maw and paw are gonna be so jealous I met you, can we take a selfie?!”

“Uh, sure?”

They get one pic of alright quality before Moxxie launches himself over the couch to hug her, sobbing loudly. “Milliiiiiiiiiiiie, I was so worried! They hurt you and it was all my fault! Are you okay now?”

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold ya horses, that wasn’t ya fault. Sometimes your dad is just fucked up, that happens… and then you happen to ‘em in return.” Angel adds, grinning darkly.

Alastor places a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “Hmmm, indeed. Never too late to take the opportunity…” he glares at Lucifer, as Charlotte tenses. Then he bursts into laughter. “Or not, we’ve had QUITE the day and I believe that it might be best for these little fiends to rest here tonight before returning to their offices. Niffty and Husker, arrange that for us, will you?”

“Hold on, you arrogant deer asshole, I’m not done talking to you yet!” Lucifer yelled as he followed the other towards the kitchens. The door hadn’t slammed shut before loud banging, crashing and shouting stirred up with intriguing radio effects contrasting violently with the blinding gold light spilling out. 

“Uhhhhhhhhhgggg, Vaggie, can you…?”

“Again? Fine. Alright you two, I’m counting to three and coming in with my spear!”

She didn’t bother to count, thanks to experience, and kicked the doors in. “Okay, you-...” 

“Is uh, is she gonna be okay?” Moxie asks, concerned. 

“Hah, of course, they won’t hurt her… but she miiiiiight stab them a little if they don’t calm down.”

“Do they fight like this often or is this for our benefit?” Loona asks.

“No, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel where everyday involves soem form of fun, frivolity and felony at this point.” Husker interjects, amused clearly.

“Metal.”

“Please don’t encourage them!”

“...-ING TO CHARLIE?! SHE CARES ABOUT BOTH OF YOU, YOU SELFISH MO-... oh, uh, everything’s fine, honey!”

Forced out of the kitchen at spear point.

Golden and Crimson blood all over them, Lucifer trying to hide a handful of Alastor’s flesh behind his back.

“Dad! What the fuck?!”

“Hey, in my defence, I was trying to help get the bullet out, and the Bellhop wouldn’t cooperate. So I did it, I got it out. You’re welcome!”

“Excellent your Majesty… what would simply have healed over in an hour is now a nuisance for the rest of the day. Good show indeed. And how do you think it will impact Charlotte’s mental health if she sees us fighting? It can be detrimental to children's development you know.”

“Us fighti-... Charlotte is MY daughter, you pompous twit! She’s the picture of mental health because she knows we love her! So there!”

“Yes, I would say everyone at the hotel does, indeed.”

“Oh you slimy word-twisting snake!”

“No, deer actually. I thought you were the serpentine one in this establishment.”

“I sure fucking am, and if you don’t shut up, I’m going to bite you!”

“...okay, Boomer.” Laugh track.

Angel Dust breaks down in hysterics.

“What did you just say to me? What the fu-... Charlie, are you teaching him the hip lingo or something? Where did he-...?”

[More stuff about them interacting]

[whats-her-quirk]

Secret Oath Chapter 7

last || m.list

➷➷➷➷➷

marco bott x fem!reader

18+ mdni

word count: 3.1k

chapter warnings: explicit smut, dry humping, oral, praise, a touch of corruption, first times, they're in love your honor

a/n: it's chapter 7 but its been just over 2 years since I started this fic so I think that qualifies as slow burn

♪ good old fashioned lover boy by queen ♪ you and I by lady gaga

➷➷➷➷➷

When you drag yourself out of bed for wake-up duty the next morning, Marco is waiting on the deck with coffee in his red thermos. He holds it out to you.

“Two sugars. I only have one travel mug, but I figured we could share. If you want.”

You’re in no position to turn down caffeine, but it’s more than that. You hadn’t asked him to do rounds with you, but here he is: eyes bright like he’s been awake for a while, holding a mug of coffee sweetened the way you like when he usually takes his black. This man might be in love with you.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Considering he might be inside you later, you decide you might as well get used to kissing spontaneously. He rests a hand on your waist, tongue brushing yours in a way that crosses from sweet to steamy.

After a long, heady look into his sable eyes, you gratefully reach for the thermos and take a long sip. “Thank you. I owe you my life.”

“How about just one more kiss instead?”

You couldn’t possibly resist.

-

Almost as soon as you arrive at arts and crafts with your group and Ymir’s, Moblit puts you to work. He can’t know that you told Marco your secret; it must be cosmic punishment. While Mobs shows the campers how to make leaf rubbings, you get down to business peeling the paper off of at least a hundred crayons. Ymir grumbles beside you, her fingernails too short to get under the labels. Now’s your chance, and you need to take it.

“Hey, wingwoman.”

Ymir scoffs. “Are you addressing me?”

“Yes.”

“Well, well, well…”

“You should be glad that I’m asking you for a favor.”

“Historia owes me so much money.”

“What?”

“I knew you’d come crawling to me. She didn’t believe me. But I have a sixth sense.” Ymir taps her head.

“Ok, seriously. I need the cabin to myself during free time today. Can you make sure everybody has somewhere else to be?”

Ymir considers this, her bottom lip jutting out in thought. “Well, Hisu goes where I go. If Hitch and Mikasa aren’t already occupied with a Jaeger each, I can probably convince them to go for a hike. Or better, a drive. With the AC on full blast.”

You throw your arms around Ymir and squeeze. “You rock.”

She pushes you off. “You’re just now realizing that? Some friend you are.” She picks at another crayon. “Do you need me to come up with an alibi or should I just tell everyone you’re having clumsy sex with the resident virgin?”

“He could be a sex god. You don’t know.”

“Fat chance.”

“I guess I’ll have to let you know. In excruciating detail.”

“Fuck no you won’t.”

–

Marco meets you on the steps outside your cabin, hands deep in the pocket of his red hoodie. True to her word, Ymir made Historia invite Mikasa and Eren to drive to town with them to buy soda at the convenience store. Hitch said she already had plans and not to wait up.

“What about the rest of the guys?” you ask.

Marco rubs the back of his neck. “All at the pool. Apparently they put up a net and I’m missing a grand volleyball tournament with the Galliards. I told them I had something else to do.”

You give him a sly smile. “Shame.”

Grateful for the privacy, you nudge Marco on the shoulder and lead him inside. After flipping the latch on the door and turning on a small lamp in the corner, you sit down on your bunk and pat the space next to you. “Take off your shoes and stay a while.”

Marco chuckles, cheeks reddening, but does as you say. He lays his hand on top of yours. “I’ll be honest. I’m kind of freaking out right now.”

“If you’re not ready, you’re allowed to change your mind.”

“I’m less worried about stopping than I am about getting started.” He leans in, his forehead touching yours. Quieter, he asks, “Can you take the lead?”

“Mmhmm.” You slide both hands up his neck, thumbs coming to rest at the corners of his jaw. “Kiss me a little first and see if you feel better.”

You don’t need to ask twice. Marco rolls on top of you like he’s been waiting for the chance, hands on your waist as he presses you into the bed. His mouth finds yours hungrily, his breath toothpaste-fresh. He prepped for this.

His tongue dips into your mouth, kissing you deeper. You rake your fingers through his hair, behind his ears, down his back. He’s folded over the edge of the bed, toes on the floor. Slowly, you drag one foot up the length of his leg, arching into the next kiss.

Marco gathers you in his arms as your body rolls.

Your hips seek his own. Now that you’ve had a little taste, all you can think about is getting closer to him. You can’t help yourself: you want to feel his skin, his breath, his body heat. You want it to smother you.

But as badly as you want him, you know you need to take this one step at a time. Today is about enjoying it: his first time, and your first time with him.

As gently as you can, you tug the hem of his hoodie up toward his chest with your fingertips. His t-shirt rides with it, a swath of his tanned-bronze skin meeting your stomach. You nudge inside his shirt, hands meeting his warm back, teasing him for more access bit by bit.

Marco finds your hip and slides a hand up under your top. He’s timid at first, but when you sigh and bend to his touch, he ventures on, hesitating only when he brushes the edge of your bra. With a slight tremble, he cups your breast in his palm.

He inhales sharply, then with a little, almost imperceptible hum, he melts. You feel him start to let go of it all: the fear, the hesitation, the self-consciousness. With another deep breath, he gives an experimental squeeze.

You break the kiss long enough to pull your shirt off over your head. You feel a flash of shyness and cover your bare stomach with your arms as Marco looks down at you with reverence. His pupils dilate, making his irises look almost black as he unfolds, standing to remove his hoodie and shirt in one motion. You expect him to drop them on the floor but giggle when he drapes them carefully over the rail on Historia’s nearby bunk.

“Sorry.” He blushes.

“Don’t be.” You pull your legs up on the bed and stretch out. “Come here.”

Marco drops into your open arms, lips finding yours before he crawls onto his hands and knees on top of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbles through a messy kiss.

You cup his jaw, bringing him closer. “So are you,” you try to say, but he swallows your words.

Your eyes flutter closed and your hands wander, stroking down the planes of his strong neck, his broad shoulders, his sun-speckled chest. There’s so much of him to explore, so much of his body yet untouched. You can’t get enough.

The ambient creaking of the cabin and the rustling of wind outside are punctuated by the slick sounds of kisses as you pore over each other. Marco’s mouth drops to the bend of your neck, drawing heat to the spot. He tangles his legs with yours and rolls you both onto your sides. Arching, you slide your hands around the small of his back and push your hips forward. Dizzy stars burst behind your eyelids as his erection twitches against your lower stomach through his running shorts.

With a little moan, you wrap a thigh around his waist for leverage and grind. Marco jerks his hips forward, head thrown back against your pillow with a hushed, “Fuck.” You drink it in, savoring the sound like the last sip of wine at the bottom of the bottle.

Your leg holds Marco against you, right where he should be, as you set a rhythm, rolling your hips up and down his body. Every few strokes, your clit catches against his clothed cock with delicious friction. When you moan, he moans.

Marco’s breath lands heavily against your face as he tilts his chin down, forehead against your own, to focus on the motion. He watches as you dry-hump against his bulge. Even without being skin to skin, it’s filthy. His hands grip your ass and everything begins to speed up.

Yes. Yes. This is finally happening.

Marco grips your hips and rolls over, balancing his weight above you on his elbows. His breaths come heavy, his body crashing over yours again and again like waves. Plunging your hand between you, you reach for his cock. He moans and humps into your hand like he can’t stop. God, it’s so big, straining against his shorts, and sensitive, throbbing in your grip.

You pant, quick and shallow, thinking about having him inside you, how full you’re going to be. It’s hard to stay calm when the anticipation burns so brightly.

When you let go of his shaft, Marco whines at the loss. You lock eyes as you brush his waistband with just your fingertips. “Ok?” you ask.

He nods desperately. “Please.”

Together, you push the elastic down until he kicks his shorts off behind him along with his underwear. Needy but defenseless, he babbles, “I’m sorry if it’s too much, if you don’t want to—”

You wrap your hand around him, lightheaded at the girth. “Marco, you’re perfect.”

He groans in his throat and rocks into your hand, a man possessed.

With a hand to his side, you guide Marco onto his back. Puffing, he rests while you take off the rest of your clothes. His arm falls across his eyes. “Oh my god.”

He pulls it away to watch as you kneel between his legs and press a kiss to the head of his cock. His muscles tense at your first few kitten licks before you wrap your lips around him. With your fist around his base, you run your tongue back and forth over his frenulum. When you come up for air, you give a few more wet strokes over his tip before Marco reaches for you.

“Please, it feels so good, but I’m gonna cum instantly if you keep doing that.” His laugh comes out more like a breath, but his smile is in his eyes.

Smirking, you crawl up to his middle. Your legs have to spread so wide just to straddle him, but fuck if your hips hurt later. The pain will be sweet. He’s worth it. He’s worth anything.

Marco paws at your arms, pulling you closer. “You don’t have to kiss me after I blow you,” you offer. “I know it bothers some people.”

Marco shakes his head and drags you to him with his hands to the back of your neck. “I don’t care, I want to,” he pants. “I need to kiss you right now.”

Messy kisses string between you, deep, hungry caresses against your tongue. “How do I—” he mumbles into your mouth, “How do I get you ready?”

“You can touch me,” you sigh.

“God,” he moans, reaching between your thighs. “Show me?”

Head hanging over your bent neck, you guide him by the wrist until two of his fingers press over your clit. You show him where to rub the little circles you like, wetting his fingers with your dew. Bracing two hands on either side of his head, you leave him to it, closing your eyes to focus on the repeated motion while you breathe into each other’s mouths.

You hold yourself together until your legs start to tremble. A rush of heat spreads from your face down your neck, flowing between your legs with an irresistible tingle. The words come out clipped and sharp. “You can put a finger in. Please.”

Marco fumbles a little at first but spreads you like a pro once he gets his bearings. One finger dips inside, and it’s both a relief and a lightning strike to your core. “Yes,” you can’t help but hiss.

It’s not like he knows nothing—Marco presses and curls his knuckle, and it makes you whine with pleasure. “Two, please.”

He adds another finger, and the heel of his hand brushes your clit with every flex. Heat builds until it skyrockets, your legs and hips jerking above him as you find a little peak. As the pulses dull around his fingers, your muscles release and your head swims with pleasure. You had no idea how badly you needed that.

You open your eyes to Marco staring in awe. “Did I really make you cum?”

You tap his arm so he knows to pull his fingers out. “Yeah. It was really good.” On wobbly thighs, you climb out of his lap and rest on your knees beside him. “Please tell me you remembered the condoms.”

Marco twists to his side. “Yeah, in my hoodie pocket.”

“I got it.” Slippery between your legs, you retrieve the condom and reach for the bottle of lube you know Historia keeps under her bunk while you’re there.

“Is that—”

“Yeah. It’s been a little while, and I might need it. Trust me, you’ll like it. Want me to put the condom on?” Your hands shake, eagerness making your movements sharp and clumsy. If he’s ready, you don’t want to wait another second.

“Sure.” Marco pushes up onto his elbows while you tear open the gold foil. He did the right thing buying the bigger size. “How do you want to… what’s going to be most comfortable for you?” He sighs as you roll the condom down his length, holding it in place at the tip. Your mouth practically waters as you squeeze out a few drops of lube and spread it on.

“If it’s ok with you, I think it’ll be easiest if I’m on top. At least for the first time, it’ll be better if I can control the angle and the speed.”

Marco lies back, exhaling heavily. You straddle him again, and his hands slide up your thighs. You can tell he’s steadying himself. Swallowing thickly, he asks, “You sure you’ll be ok? Is it going to fit?”

Your chest clenches. At a time like this, he’s thinking about you. Above all the emotions swirling inside you—excitement, lust, nervousness, all of it—you feel safe and important. You couldn’t be more grateful to be with someone like Marco. You hope this thing between the two of you can turn into something that lasts.

You kiss him deep and slow, rekindling the fire between you and topping it off with a sweet peck to his forehead. “Yes. I want you.”

His hands slide to your waist. “I want you too.”

With one more kiss, you reach below you, positioning him at your entrance, and sink down. As the first few inches slip in, your eyes widen and Marco’s hands clamp down tight. “Fuck,” you both curse at almost the same time.

He’s so thick. It’s all you can think about as you work him inside you, pulling out before pushing further down with each rock of your body. He’s filling you up. He’s splitting you open. It’s incredible.

You moan as your cunt sucks him in, and before you really know it, you’re as fully seated as you can be. There might be an inch or so that you just can’t fit, not today. It doesn’t matter—he feels fucking perfect for you.

Clenching involuntarily, you hold yourself in place as you acclimate to the stretch. Your hips prickle with heat, and you can only hope you’ll feel this tomorrow and be reminded of how it felt to be this full—to remember the absolute pleasure of being the first one to ever be filled by him.

Marco’s jaw drops as he rubs your hips, the tops of your thighs, anywhere he can reach. “You doing ok?” you pant.

Marco groans and nods. Words come huskily. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, feels good.”

His lashes flutter. “Can you move?”

“Mmhmm.” Pacing yourself, you grind up and down, tucking your hips to guide him to your sweet spot with each thrust. Overcome with the need to be as close as possible, you fold, pressing yourself closer to his chest.

With his hot hands guiding you, Marco huffs in your ear, and you ride. Finding your rhythm and steadily increasing it, he arches to meet you as he rolls your hips down. Intensity crescendos, passion breaking over you in waves and weeks of longing pouring over your bodies until it reaches its climax. You move as one until you hit critical mass and Marco takes the lead.

Moaning low and shallow, Marco slams into you over and over, driving you to the edge with a sharp cry, and you snap. It hits you in surges, your prolonged pulses dragging pathetic moans from your throat until you finally clamp down and force Marco to the other side with you. He whines until he chokes on it, his cock throbbing until he’s spent.

As much as you just want to collapse on top of him, your hips are screaming, so you carefully pull him out before curling into his side. You lie together, Marco’s arms around you, pulling you close in the crinkly twin bed. Between breaths, he kisses your lips, your cheeks, your neck before tucking your head under his chin, holding you in the still and quiet after the storm.

You trace constellations in the freckles on his chest. “So. How was it?”

“Worth it,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a kiss to your crown.

–

That night, around the campfire late in the evening, no one mentions it when you show up wearing Marco’s big red hoodie. Nobody asks where you were during free time or questions why you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other during the free-throw competition after dinner. The most you get is a wink and finger gun from Ymir, but she keeps her big mouth shut, and you love her for it. Everyone probably knows, or at least suspects, and maybe they’ll tease you for it later, but for tonight, they grant you peace.

After making you each a s’more, Marco wraps the both of you in his blanket. Despite your sticky smiles, you lean your head on his shoulder, one hand to his chest to feel his heartbeat under it.

➷➷➷➷➷

last || m.list

[eusuntgratie]

some flyers @ blues thoughts...

i kept forgetting it was the blues pride night 🏳️‍🌈

they posted a cute vid of one of the three players i know (hah) taping his stick with pride tape on insta which i showed the kid but she only had eyes for the flyers yesterday and was like get this garbage out of my face. when the flyers wore pride tape she lost her mind bc that’s what she has

the arena graphics were cool and the lookalike thing was vaguely gay themed but didn’t have jerseys and otherwise didn’t seem to do anything? i’m disappointed. couldn’t they do a video message from a player saying everyone is welcome at blues hockey? something? our city is so gay and our logo is a music note like we could have had an awesome local artist design us really cool jerseys but of course the nhl has to be disappointing

they did light up the arena and the ferris wheel at union station (which may be unrelated i haven’t been down there at night in a minute) super gay which was nice

i’ve had good seats twice now i’m ruined forever TAKE MY MONEY

thought i was going to have to get bitchy with a clueless fan creeping in on our space and talking loudly on her phone after we waited patiently for an HOUR. didn’t help that her boyfriend/friend/whatever was in a blackhawks shirt?? sir your team sucks and isn’t playing get that shit out of my face.

tiny baby flyers fan with the danny b jersey rocking your hockey bucket at the game please know that i love you

talked to a really nice guy in an oskar jersey and got emotional about him all over again

warmups are so worth it. its a little trying going that early with a kid and waiting around forever and then making it through the whole game but it is SO WORTH IT. i feel like especially at an away game... the players were so sweet and kiddo was so excited... her favorite part of every game we’ve done that for

provy smashed into the boards right in front of us and chilled a bit before noticing kiddo and the little one next to us. he smiled at her and showed her the puck and made sure i had my shit together before he tossed it over. i was super stoked the pucks from last night are pride themed! very cute! he gave little dude a puck too.

we saw tons of players up close... i think we were in a better spot this time! or maybe the flyers just move around more than the pens idk.

tk seemed to zoom around the most so i didn’t know if he would come over... he was also always the one to go get the pucks out of the net. apparently i have a type and its pretty boys with long hair who like to fish pucks out of the net...

he skated by us a zillion times and kiddo banged on the glass and hollered every time, but he finally was going a little slower and saw the sign she made with his name and number (she also had TK on one cheek and 11 on the other bc we love to be extra). he smiled SO BIG when he saw it. when i tell you this man could get me to do ANYTHING for that smile... oh jeez.

he kept skating and finished whatever he was doing but he skated right back around and came straight up to her to give her a puck. i don’t remember anything about this he’s too pretty i’m just proud of myself for catching it and not letting it bonk her on the head (y’all i could not be less sports inclined... the pressure of catching a puck for my child is A LOT to ask of me). he didn’t interact with anybody near us or give anybody else one that i saw...he just came right up to her to give it to her (his biggest fan)

considering divorce as husband got good pics of provy but not tk 🙃

my love of big nic continues... i feel like he was def in dad mode and tossed pucks to the all the kids down by us, even some folks that were further back. he flipped one at us and it went right behind me (y’all i caught two i deserve some kind of medal three is really too much to ask of me) but i gave it to the guys next to us (oskar jersey and his son) bc they had no tiny adorable child to woo players with

frosty is very cute. bee is really little?

one of the main draws of going to warmups is to watch the slutty hip stretch in person and scotty laughts delivered. thank you for your service, sir 😘

kevin looks perpetually like he has no idea and has never had any idea what is going on <3 bless

i’ve never been on the opposite side of the benches and must say that watching the boys come out of the tunnel for the game is a whole moment. very cool. it was also fun to see the guys going on and off and watch them on the bench.

there were no flyers fans behind baby goalie and it took ALL OF MY RESTRAINT not to run over there and scream “we love you you’re doing great sweetie!!!” i was fully ready to get violent if anyone harassed him he brings out all of my mama bear tendencies.

tippy’s hair is so violently red... he took his helmet off on the bench for a bit and it was like a beacon i couldn’t look at anything else

its cute how i thought my flyers love was waning I’M BACK BABY I’M ALL IN I LOVE THIS TEAM despite their countless flaws! if they have tk i’m in who cares go flyerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrs 🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡

is there a support group for sports fans who fully commit to two teams who hate each other? asking for a friend who loves to do sports wrong 😶

lastly and definitely least ladies jerseys are not it. i gotta sell this shit and get a huge boxy one. i saw the one i want awhile ago and didn’t get it and now i’m piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissed but oh well :/

[justanotheryellowsoul]

Oh. Oh.

Siffrin isn't just missing the trap switch or keys because they suck at their assigned job. He doesn't. Or at least- didn't.

They miss them because they only have one eye now. Siffrin has bad depth perception. He can't tell if a space in a drawer or book is a bit bigger than it's supposed to be. They can't tell if something is sitting oddly-

He keeps hitting that one table, because he clearly hasn't adjusted to the new depth perception. It's not their fault.

It was never their fault.

[ingoodjesst]

have you put the pieces together yet, detective

[lover-of-mine]

[puppppppppy]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[ta1ntd]

I do understand how a lot of people kind of dislike the ending of banana fish because as a viewer you tend to want your faves to be happy and stuff but I feel it makes complete sense if you look at it through Ash's pov. To me it makes sense why he would chose to die in that moment because getting stabbed there was a reminder that there's always going to be someone or something that is against him and that would then put people he cares about in danger, it's a pattern that happens throughout the story and generally through his life and so the response of choosing to die so no one will be hurt because of him makes complete sense in his own head. Along with this I do think that to him his death wasn't really sad because he died believing that not only he had protected the person he cares the most about but that there is someone out there that cares about him deeply and to me at least it feels like a fitting conclusion to his character despite it being extremely sad to watch.

[lightbulb-warning]

so has anyone figured out WHY there is the Need To Share our Artworks™ or is it just the vibes and our Soul apparently