#i don't know why i spent an hour a half typing this up trying to explain myself to you when you're still just not going to get it

[inlovewithfionaapple]

a lifetime ago

warnings: potentially cringy

wc: 1.0k

request here

georgia amoore's keys clinked in the lock like a familiar song, smothered by the worn fabric of her gym bag slung across her shoulder. you sat at the kitchen counter, computer open, a spreadsheet glowing on the screen and a cold, abandoned cup of tea next to it. you heard her before you saw her — the soft creak of the door, the scuff of sneakers taken off, the sigh that followed like a relief falling from her chest.

"hi," she said, her voice soft and already tired.

you found yourself taken aback staring at her, hair clinging to the casual wash in the facility, a hoodie two sizes too big draped over her shoulders, and the same defeated weariness in the slouch of her shoulders that conveyed practice had been brutal. she didn't even make it through the door before dumping her bag on the floor with a crash and sauntering towards you in bare feet.

"hey, baby," you said, speeding up to meet her halfway. she wrapped her arms around your waist immediately and buried her face in the crook of your neck. "long day?"

she didn't answer right away. just held on more tightly, as if you would disappear if she released you too fast.

"i missed you," she muttered into your flesh.

"you saw me this morning," you taunted, though your tone was already affectionate.

"right. that was this morning. it's nearly a lifetime ago."

you smiled, touching the tips of her hair. "you hungry? i was gonna make—"

no, she cut in, taking back just enough room to catch your eye. "i mean, yes. maybe. but a little more than that—" she interlaced her fingers with yours and started moving backward, pulling you along. "i have to be near you. like, on you. i've spent three hours straight getting lectured by brooks, and i swear if i don't get some girlfriend cuddles right now i'm going to burst."

you laughed, letting her lead. “i was working.”

“you still can,” she said as if it were obvious. “you’re good at multitasking. i’ll just be your emotional support koala.”

within fifteen minutes, georgia was snuggled up around you in a human-sized heating pad, her cheek tucked between your shoulder blades as you worked. her arms wrapped around your waist from behind, and her breath tickled your back. every so often, she moved a bit — readjusting the blanket you'd draped over the both of you or burrowing deeper like a sunbeam cat.

"this is not an ergonomically sound work ethic," you groused, straining to see on the screen.

"you'll get through it," she murmured drowsily. "i am the reward for your output."

"oh, is that the way they play it?"

"mmhm. you crunch, and i snuggle. it's symbiotic."

she was not sleeping, though she drifted, singing this gentle melody that you could not make out. a low one, soft, with rhythm to it, a kind of noise that dropped shoulders and reduced hearts.

you kept right on typing.

at one point, she touched a kiss just between your shoulder blades. and then there was one by the nape of your neck. and yet another.

"you're trying to distract me."

she nipped gently at the flesh above the shirt collar. "is it working?"

yes. you didn't say it, but the way your fingers lagged on the keyboard probably did.

"i just—" georgia said, "—miss you more than normal today. i don't know why. maybe i was in my head too much in practice. maybe everything just felt off until i walked in that door and saw you again."

you changed position, leaned over to one side in your seat so that you could see her face. her eyes were half-closed but focused, lips parted as if she wasn't sure what to say.

"do you have days," she continued, "where everything feels heavier until you're home? and then, like, the instant you're near your person, it's like—" she let out a slow breath. "—you can finally breathe."

your heart hurt. you reached up and smoothed her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "every second. and you're my breath out, g."

she leaned against you again, her face pressed into your shirt as if she couldn't bear to look at you right now.

"i don't even mind that i'm sweaty and gross," she groaned into your ribs. "i just need you."

"you're not gross," you told her, leaving a kiss on her forehead. "you're clingy, though."

"unapologetically."

"i noticed."

you lingered so, the spreadsheet untouched, the cursor politely blinking on your screen. georgia's respiration steadied, the undulation of her chest against yours mirroring your own. her fingers traced relaxed circles on your belly beneath the hoodie she'd hijacked — yours, not hers, yet it rested upon her more than upon you.

eventually, she shifted.

"alright," she said, shifting so her chin rested on your shoulder, her cheek against yours. "i've made up my mind. you're not leaving my side tonight."

"didn't plan to," you replied.

"good." she kissed your cheek, then pointed at your laptop. "now go ahead. keep being a genius. i'll be right here, clinging to you like an emotionally attached barnacle."

you grinned. "you're the prettiest barnacle i've ever seen."

she grinned. "that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

later, when you finally closed the laptop and got up to stretch, georgia reached out and took your hand and pulled you toward the couch.

"wait. you're finished now? like, really finished?"

"yep."

she made a hyperbolic victory sound, arms flailing as she plopped back into the couch cushions and pulled you down with her. "then we're going to watch whatever i want, and you're going to let me lie right on top of you like a heavy blanket."

"you're so demanding."

she smiled, already scrolling through the streaming menu on her handheld with one as the other wrapped around your waist. "what can i say? i know what i like. and that's being wrapped around you like cling wrap over a leftover sandwich."

you couldn't help laughing and letting her pull you closer, the two of your legs entwined beneath a pile of blankets.

georgia squeezed in closer still and whispered, "perfect. this is perfect."

and sincerely? it was.

[kxsagi]

THE RIN ITOSHI 'love talk' ONE? beautiful. give me 50 more. and maybe a continuation. cough,

“𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮”

a/n: I AM GLAD YOU LOVED LOVE TALK BC I LOVED WRITING THAT ONE (i just love different languages, it's so fun to speak and study them, it's so beautiful)

love talk post is here :)

i know rin is canonically fluent in english, but maybe he could use more practice on pronunciation and grammar structure, so that’s what reader is here for. also reader may be visiting japan long-term for college or has chosen to move there for a long living situation. 

(art credits go to ft_st3 on X)

you text him that night. something simple. 

"this is me :) thank you again today." 

you don't expect a response right away. honestly, you half-expect him to ghost you. he didn’t strike you as the texting type. 

but a few minutes later, your screen lights up. 

rin: you’re welcome. 

rin: i was nervous to give you my number. 

rin: i’m glad you used it. 

you blink at your phone. okay. okay, so he is the texting type. the awkward, overthinking kind. maybe that’s why it feels kind of comforting. like you’re not the only one fumbling your way through this unfamiliar city. 

the next day, you get another text. 

rin: do you want to meet again? for english practice. and… matcha? 

and that’s how it starts. 

english practice becomes a regular thing. kind of. 

he shows up with a small notebook, where he’s written phrases like: 

“how was your day?” 

“do you like cats?” 

“you are funny” – that one’s circled twice. 

you correct his pronunciation sometimes, and he corrects your chopstick grip like it’s a matter of national security. you start teaching him slang, and he repeats your words back with a furrowed brow, like he’s trying to memorize them for an exam. 

one time he says, completely straight-faced: “that’s so slay.” 

and you nearly choke on your rice ball. 

but the thing is, he tries. he tries so hard. and not just with the language. 

he starts walking you home more often. sending you restaurant recommendations with little “this one is good” comments. you’ll look up and see him watching you like he doesn’t quite understand what you’re saying, but he likes the way you say it anyway. 

he never says much. but the little things build up. 

like the time you got caught in the rain and he wordlessly held his jacket over both your heads. 

or when he learned how to say “you look pretty today” and spent the whole hour trying to work up the courage to say it. 

eventually, you ask him, “why did you help me that day? at the station?” 

he stares at you for a second. then looks away. “… you looked scared.” he pauses. “and i didn’t want to walk away from someone who needed help.” another pause. “… and you were cute.” 

you laugh, flustered. “you practiced that line, didn’t you?” 

he nods solemnly. “three days.” 

and when you lean over to kiss him, just a quick, giddy little press to his cheek, he goes bright red. 

but he doesn’t pull away. 

he just looks at you like he’s found something he wants to learn fluently. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[lucy90712]

Hey Lucy 🌷

I was wondering if you were open to do some boyfriend/ dating headcanons for the boys you want to write it for?

A/n: This is a headcannon all of the random ideas I came up with over the course of a few days there is no structure too it but I hope you enjoy it anyway

Gavi 

- He is as passionate off the pitch as he is on it he always gives his all in everything in life and your relationship is no exception once he's in he's all in and that's what makes him a great boyfriend. 

- Anyone that knows Pablo knows he's not much of a talker he's always been quite shy and for a while he was the same around you until he felt completely comfortable around you and he was able to open up. Once he opens up you almost don't recognise him as he will sometimes spend hours just talking at you without any breaks. You love it though as it means he feels comfortable enough around you to break down all the walls he's put up. 

- Pablo is incredibly physically affectionate. That is how he shows his love as he often doesn't know how to find the words to express his love for you so he shows it in his own way. This way involves having his arms around you as much as he can and constantly giving you kisses. He probably gives you over 100 kisses each day and he won't settle for any less he makes sure he gives you kisses from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to sleep. Any free time he has is spent with his arms around your waist as there is nowhere he'd rather be than enjoying your company. 

- Jealousy is just something that comes with dating Pablo. He's very possessive he doesn't like any other guys flirting with you or even looking at you the wrong way. No matter how subtle these guys try to be he can always tell when they are trying to flirt with you and he will always give them a death stare until they back off. Sometimes he goes too far and tries to stop you talking to other guys but once his jealousy calms down he realises he can't control you and he has to just trust that you'll always come home with him.

- He is obsessed with seeing you wear his Barça or Spain shirts part of it probably comes from his possessiveness and liking you to wear his name on your back. He is always bringing you new shirts any time they are released so half your wardrobe is made up of football shirts. The shirts can't just be any shirts though they are always ones he's worn in matches as then they are special and sometimes he'll even write on the shirts if they are from a special match so that when you wear it you are reminded of that day. 

- Pablo has quite a short fuse it doesn't take much to annoy him most of the time but he never gets mad around you. You can tease him like his teammates do but he won't get mad he'll just distract you by kissing you or he gets all shy until you stop. No one understands why he doesn't get annoyed at you but he just doesn't he can't bring himself to shout at you or playfully hit your arm to get you to stop. Something about the mischievous look on your face when you tease him stop any anger from building up in him he just can't bring himself to be mad when you look so cute. 

- Pablo doesn't seem like the type of person to think too much about the future but he loves to think about his future with you. His injury reminded him that everything in life isn't a given so it made him appreciate everything he had including you a hell of a lot more. He really started to think about how he wanted to marry you and have kids with you he wants his whole future to be with you. At one point he seriously considered proposing but someone manage to talk sense into him and told him to wait a couple more years until he was back playing and you had finished your degree but it's still something he thinks about a lot. 

Pedri 

- For a while Pedri wasn't sure he was ready to settle down but as soon as he met you that changed. Suddenly all he wanted was you to be in his life and he knew you wouldn't accept a quick fling but he didn't want that either he wanted you and no one else. Once you two had started dating he couldn't be happier and he wondered why he was so hesitant to live his life that way beforehand but that doesn't really matter now he has you.  

- Pedri's family is everything to him so it was important to him that they liked you but there was nothing for either of you to worry about as they all loved you. From the moment you met them his parents loved you like their own child so you became part of the family straight away. Over time you have become so integrated into the family that it's pretty much expected that you'll attend any family event with or without Pedri as the whole family sees you as one of them. 

- There is nothing Pedri enjoys more than a quiet night in with you. He's not one for going out and drinking he much prefers to spend the evening on the sofa cuddling with you while watching a movie. Half the time he doesn't even watch the movie he just watched you as you are leaned against his chest while he plays with your hair. After a long day getting to unwind on the sofa with you is all he wants. 

- Before meeting you Pedri didn't have the best style but once you got your hands on his wardrobe it improves. He liked seeing you wear his clothes so you had to tell him he needed to get better clothes if he wanted you to wear them and he takes that seriously. He happily lets you go shopping with him to find some new clothes that aren't the hideous skinny jeans he had before which he wasn't sure about but when he sees how much you love his new style he begins to like it more too. 

- You were a football and barca fan long before you met Pedri so of course you are a fan of some of the older players. Being the great boyfriend that he is Pedri will get you signed shirts from some of your favourites because he remembers what it's like to be a fan of all these players and now he has the luxury of playing with or against them he likes to take advantage of it. He has managed to get you shirts signed by Busquets, Messi, Neymar and a few others which are proudly in your collection.

- Pedri sometimes gets jealous of you and Nilo, he knew you'd love the dog as you'd been talking about getting a dog for months but he didn't expect to lose his place in bed every night. When he comes home you are always cuddling with Nilo and when he tries to take the dogs place he usually gets growled at or pushed to the side. You do try to teach Nilo not to do that but he doesn't seem to grasp that Pedri was here before he was. Pedri does love to see how much Nilo loves you even though he brought him home and now he's been long forgotten your love for the puppy does make him smile. 

- When you move into Pedri's place you can tell that he's the only one who lives there the place is completely devoid of character only what is necessary is there. You completely change that you bring lots of little decorations to have round the place so it feels more homely. To start with he hated it he thought the place looked cluttered but he soon got used to it and started to love seeing all your little touches around the home including your million hair ties and lip balms that you leave everywhere. 

Jude 

- Jude is very proud of your relationship he truly loves you and he wants to show you off if he can sneak pictures of you onto his Instagram either on his story or his photo dumps he will. Your relationship is private but it's not at all secret if you want to post together you will and if you want to go somewhere together even if you'll be seen you do. You are always at Jude's games wearing his shirt to support him because you supporting him means more than hiding everything from the media and fans. 

- He is and always will be your passenger princess even if he learns to drive or you teach him he will still want you to drive everywhere. He just loves to sit in the passenger seat and watch you drive he has a whole album on his phone filled with pictures of you driving. You just have the cutest concentration face that he can't help but stare at as you drive. 

- Jude loves to buy you gifts. He's alway coming home with things for you they aren't always big things more often than not it's simple things like flowers or your favourite chocolates but on occasion he will bring home jewellery or other things that he sees that he thinks you'll like. Anything that reminds him of you he will get for you as he loves seeing the smile on your face. Every time you tell him off for spending his money on things for you when you already have enough but he doesn't listen in fact he enjoys watching you try to be mad at him when you actually aren't. 

- Since Jude went to Dortmund you made a lot of sacrifices for your relationship and Jude doesn't just sweep that under the rug he really appreciates everything you have done for him and to keep your relationship alive. For him to have his dream you've had to put yours aside but once you move to Madrid he really wants to let you have a go at yours dreams too. He makes sure to support you and help you as you are finally able to finish your education and work towards the career you want so you two can be a proper power couple. 

- His family are all really close despite not living all in the same country which is something you really admire. They are all so kind and are willing to help whenever you need them they are truly like a second family to you. Even if Jude's not around they will treat you like part of the family in fact when you go home even if it's just for a day or two they always offer their spare room to you or invite you over for dinner. You always appreciate how they always treat you the same whether Jude is there or not as to you that shows that they really like you.

- Jude is always just the sweetest boyfriend ever. You can never feel insecure when Jude is around as he's always complimenting everything about you until you are a complete blushing mess. He always seems to know when you aren't feeling confident and he'll go to extra effort to make sure you know that you are perfect to him which usually makes you feel better. After realising that what other people say really seems to affect you Jude makes sure that he blocks any accounts that say bad things about you and filters comments on yours and his posts so you aren't as exposed to all the negativity and can be the happy confident person he loves so much. 

- You and Jude really grew up together you were so young when you started dating that you really learned who you were and matured together. Jude really helped you come out of your shell as you got older you were always quite shy and would rather let other people do the talking but he encouraged you and helped you become more confident in yourself. It's thanks to him that you are able to talk to people at parties and events that you go to with him and you can stand up for yourself because his confidence rubbed off on you. 

Joao 

- Joao will be forever grateful that he found you you've been a constant in his life when everything else was changing. He finds comfort in your presence you are the one person he knows he can go to about anything as you always know what to say and how to make him feel better. 

- After a few instances of losing you in a crowd he refuses to go anywhere with you without touching you in some way to make sure you are safe. In big crowds he will always have hold of your hand and stand in front of you to lead you through to wherever you are going. Other times he will just have a hand on your waist or your back to keep you close. 

- One of the first things that told Joao you were the one was when you met Floki for the first time. Floki can be funny around new people he doesn't always like them and he seems to always be a good judge of character but the second you walked into Joao's place for the first time Floki was running up to you licking all over your face. That dog loved you probably more than him which told him all he needed to know about you as a person and how you would be the one for him if he could just keep you around which he managed to do. 

- Joao bought both of you necklaces with your respective initials as sort of a joke gift one Christmas but now he doesn't take his off. Unless he's playing he always wears his necklace with your initial on it even though it's only a cheap necklace he bought as a joke he love always having a piece of you with him. While he's playing and can't wear his necklace you always wear yours as he thinks it brings him good luck and because you like to support him in your own way. 

- If there's one thing Joao loves it's a trip somewhere warm when he has any time off and of course you have to come with him or the trip would be no fun. It doesn't matter where you go as long as there's a beach and you bring plenty of pretty sun dressed and bikinis as Joao loves to admire you when you have that sun kissed glow. Holidays with Joao are always great as they are the perfect mix of relaxation and getting to explore wherever you go and he always treats you like a princess the entire time. 

- Any big life decisions that Joao has to make he will always tell you about before anyone else. Whenever his agent receives offers from another club or his contract was up for renewal he always discusses it with you as it impacts your life just as much as his. If you even so much as hunt that you aren't happy with him moving to a certain club or country he'll tell his agent to decline the offer because if you aren't happy then he knows he won't be happy. You two are a team and you always come as a pair no matter the situation as that's just how your relationship works. 

- Joao loves to learn things from you. You are always leaning something new even if it's just silly little fun facts and Joao loves to hear them. He's learnt so much from you which he's always sharing with other people but he has to make sure they know the facts came from you. He loves when you get obsessed with learning about a new topic and all you do is passionately tell him all about it while you both lay in bed. Sometimes you realise that you are talking a lot and try to stop but he doesn't let you he always asks more questions to get you back talking as he never wants you to feel insecure about one of his favourite quirks of yours. 

Ruben 

- Ruben is all about commitment, once he knows he has feelings for you he won't talk to any other girls even if you aren't exclusive yet because he knows he wants you and he doesn't see the point in talking to anyone that's not you. Once you are officially together he is well and truly committed you won’t find him texting other girls or commenting on posts that aren't yours because he doesn't want anything to be able to be taken out of context and upset you as he loves you. He's fiercely loyal and you love him for that as it makes you feel much more secure in your relationship. 

- He's all about keeping healthy and working out so when you actually agree to join him in the gym or for a run he loves it. On those days he usually gets less done as he's always watching you or spotting you as he teaches you new exercises to work different muscles. Working out is something he enjoys so he likes to do it with you as it's a part of his world he can actually share with you. 

- Usually Ruben hates to do nothing he doesn't like sitting still and relaxing but when he's with you he will do it all day. If you want to lay in bed all day and relax he will be right there with you watching silly rom com movies and cuddling you. When he's with you he doesn't find it so boring to do nothing as he enjoys the way you comment on how idiotic some of the characters are and he enjoys just watching your face as you finally get to relax after a long week. 

- Ruben will always at least attempt to try out any hobbies you pick up whether it's something simple like reading a book from a series your obsessed with or joining you at a painting class as you've decided you need to be more creative. He will try anything at least once because he likes to know what you do with your free time so when you talk about it he can understand a bit more. It's not often that he sticks with your hobbies as most of them aren't his thing but he also wants you to have things you can do without him he just likes to try them out as you do the same for him. 

- Pretty much as soon as you are serious in your relationship Ruben asks you to move in with him. You already spend so much time together and more often than not you sleep over at Ruben's so to him it's a no brainier and it makes your life so much easier. He's so ready for you to move in that by the time you've got boxes together he's already cleared room in his wardrobe and chest of draws for your stuff. He also sets up his spare room as an office for you with no questions asked all of a sudden it's not longer a spare room there's a desk and a computer as well a little decorations he knows you'll like. 

- Ruben is your biggest supporter because you are always his. Anything you do he will be right behind you cheering you on whether it's something small like finishing a big project at work or getting a promotion. He will always try to make time to come to your work events like the Christmas party as he knows these sort of events aren't your favourite things and he's more than happy to take over the conversation about how great you are. Of course he doesn't always have time but he will always support you the best he can as he wants you to feel like what you do is just as important as football. 

- Some of the best memories you two have together are from your days spend back in Ruben's hometown. Quite early on you got to know his friends and family so whenever you go out there you always have lots of fun. That's not the main reason you love it though it's the getting to spend quality time together without worrying about you having work the next day or Ruben having training. It's not often that you get to spend that much time with Ruben so you always enjoy every second with him and the people he loves the most. 

[liveontelevision]

Hello hello! If you are still taking requests I've been dying for an Alastor x reader where the reader was married to him when he was alive, and she outlives him quite a while before they reunite in hell, only for him to nearly die again when the angels attack. I love your work!

I've been wanting to do this prompt for a hot minute, sorry it took so long Anon :')

But here's a good long fluffy, angsty, fic to balance out how much of an ass Alastor is in Suffer lol

Curiosity Killed the Cat | Reader x Alastor

What caught your eye first, was how much whiskey he could down before losing his composure. You found yourself in awe, watching this charismatic stranger go round after round, only to end up on the dance floor with more energy than you had when you were sober. Truly a spectacle. Why don't you go tell him that?

"Excuse me-" You say in a sing-song voice, slipping by the stranger to beckon another drink your way. You may or may not have brushed your body against him in some sort of attempt to get his attention. It went unnoticed, but that's alright, that trick didn't usually work on the ones who had one too many drinks.

You decide the next best action is to sit at the seat next to him, despite there being multiple unoccupied stools at the bar. That’s something he has to question, right?

Of course not. You spent far too long trying to get his attention in any way, and he's either humming a song to himself or chatting with the plump, noisy, owner who would come by. They seemed to be close friends.. but she definitely wasn't his type. She looks like one to cause trouble.

You get a good scope of his character. He came in wearing a pristine trenchcoat, shielding an expensive-looking vest and tie combo. But, by now the tie had come undone and was draped across his neck. The heat of the whiskey might've gotten to him, he left his top few buttons precariously opened. You didn't mind that one bit. Next thing you spot; slightly messed hair and smudged glasses- bingo.

"Hey, birdy-" you finally muster some courage to get his attention. "-may I?" You pull out a handkerchief you usually have on hand, in case handsome strangers with glasses need a quick clean. It took you a good half hour to finally speak up, but he's looking you up and down as if you had just walked in. It takes a moment, but you see him finally decide you aren't a threat. He sits silently. Taking another swig of his drink, he looks at you with a smile. Does he want you to.. no harm in trying.

You bite at your lip, hesitantly reach out to his face, and carefully pluck the glasses from the bridge of his nose. He shuts his eyes as you do so. A man hasn't made you blush in quite some time. You decide to blame the drinks. Luckily, you have a task to keep your mind preoccupied. You're carefully swiping any smudges clear from the lenses when you hear his voice for the first time. Or so you thought.

"Mimzy, dear, do tell me who this little kitten here is. A regular?" You're assuming he's speaking about you, he's gesturing in your direction with his empty glass. The owner of the speak-easy, who you now know as Mimzy, trots behind the bar to top off his drink.

"For sure! What do ya say, kid, you're here.. on most weekends, ain't ya?" She turns to you, and you take a moment to confirm. You didn't think she'd notice, you don't come here that often. That's what you tell yourself at least.

"Got an eye on her tonight, Al? Sounds like someone's not goin' home alone~" She teases him with a quick jab, and he's quick to roll his eyes.

"Now now, she's been perched here for quite a while and has barely said a word to me, I doubt she's getting any more than a free drink." He sounds snarky, yet.. familiar..

"Al… as in Alastor? That radio host fellow? Well, I’ll be damned! I wasn't expecting a celebrity such as yourself to frequent little joints like this one." You comment, finally joining the conversation. You hear a throat being cleared dramatically and turn to the owner behind the bar. You laugh nervously.

"Not that- it's still a good bar- I.. Sorry." Good recovery. Your attention is taken to the hand outstretched to you, and you instinctively lean away from it.

"Kitten-" He beckons his hand, and you follow his eyes to his glasses that were still in your grasp. You let yet another nervous laugh and quickly pass them over. He slips them on with a satisfied hum.

"If I remember correctly, Al-" you attempt to mock the nickname you picked up from Mimzy. "- You have a broadcast tomorrow morning, no? You really think drinking like a sailor tonight is the best idea?" You weren’t concerned, really. You wanted to tease him a bit longer.

"Props to you for knowing my schedule." You realize how strange that might've sounded and quickly finish your drink to prevent any more embarrassing thoughts from slipping from your lips. "Are you implying I can't handle my liquor, dear?" He scoffs, beckoning the bartender over. He has them refill your glass.

"I'm sure you can, birdy, but you've been pounding down more drinks than I can count." You respond. You weren't one to flirt effectively. That, or he just happens to see right through your nerves.

"So, you've been counting, hm?" You realize you had outed yourself to watching him all night. You curse yourself quietly, hoping the music filling the room will cover your frustration. "Appreciate the concern, but I promise you, I'm more than capable of doing my job. No matter the circumstances."

While he seemed to be reading you quite easily, you had picked a few things up yourself. For one, he watches everything. And he seems to only drop his intel when he needs to. Or to mock you. And two, he's a bit of a narcissist.. quite an ego on this one. But that could work in your favor tonight.

"Well, fine then. I'll be up bright and early to listen to your broadcast. I doubt you can get through it with a hangover. Especially considering how much you've been drinking."  You state proudly. He lets out a chuckle, and despite how quiet it is, you can't help but appreciate his sultry laugh.

"Is that a challenge, kitten?" He purrs -ha- leaning his chin into his hand and slouching his body towards the bar.

"I mean if it is, there must be stakes." You say it as a matter of fact. "Let's say.. you cover my bill next time if I catch you slip up."

"Hm. Seems fair. You better be listening close, though, I'm very good at what I do." He enunciates his final sentence and it sends a shiver down your spine. For a brief moment, you consider this could be a bad idea.

"And when I win, what will be my prize?" He asks. You let out a little giggle at his cockiness.

"I'll tell you my name." He cocks his head to the side, an intrigue hitting him. Did he really manage to get this far without a proper introduction?

"I see your little detective game going on, I'll give you that. You are quite the observer. But you won't find my name just by looking." You say smugly. That's true for a number of reasons.

"I suppose you did leave that information out, hm?" He let's his eyes drop, as if he was trying to piece it together with what little information he had.

"I must say, you've got me hooked, kitten." He lets out a sigh, leaning back in his chair and finishing off yet another drink.

"Deal?" You hum, holding your hand out to him. He smirks, taking it into his own, not expecting a firm shake, but receiving one. He went on to press a quick kiss to your knuckles.

"Deal."

You went home alone after that night, but it was likely for the best. You were sure you'd see him next time, anyway.

Now that you had to tell him your name.

You thought for sure he'd at least stumble through a sentence, but no. He went through the entire show, even an interview with some big shot, and spoke perfect English. He talked like he'd never had a drop of booze his entire life and got a full night's sleep, which you both knew was far from the truth. You almost dreaded the next encounter, but at least you didn't wager anything too crazy. Sure, he'll see you differently after this, but if this were to go any further - what are you on about? You only met him once and listened to him on the radio occasionally at best. He's a perfect stranger to you. Let's not get too excited.

You find yourself seated in the same spot as before, shrinking into your seat and downing a few drinks to build your courage. You told him your mark. An awkward introduction, first and last name, made you feel like a new student at a children's school. He perks up, which is what you expected.

"Ah! So you're the famed physician! It's almost silly of you to call me a celebrity, you're the talk of the town, kitten." You groan, of course, he recognizes you. Everyone in this damned small town knows your name, your family.

You were one of the first women to complete their studies and practice medicine from your hometown. But to attend such high schooling in this time, your family had to be well off. And you were, in fact, well off. When it came to your love life, men were either disgusted by your pursuit of knowledge or took it like some fetish. You haven't approached anyone for years.. not like this, at least.

"You know, I spoke with your father a few-" You groan at the mention of him, cutting Alastor off mid-sentence.

"Don't be a fool, I heard the little interview on your show.. Can't say that was my favorite broadcast." Alastor had a certain segment where he would chat with some of the richer and more.. stuck up.. men in society. It wasn’t titled as such, you just noticed the trend of guests being pompous and wealthy. And your father was the perfect fit for that.

You didn't know this at the time, but Alastor was suddenly hit with some mixed emotions. There was more than one reason as to why your father was chosen to be on his broadcast. Alastor used his interviews to initiate close ties, and make powerful allies. If they weren't complying how he hoped, he would usually cut ties. Permanently.

Your father was definitely not a reasonable man, in fact, you made it a point to avoid him when you returned home. But did he deserve death?

"I didn't expect just the sight of me walking the streets to be as interesting as it is." You mumbled, leaning forward on the counter and drinking something much stronger than you expected. But the mentions of your father called for a hard hitter.

"You didn't?" He asked bluntly, twirling the liquor in his glass. You hum in agreement. Gossip spreads like wildfire here.

"Well, you've picked up some interesting feats. If you were hoping to go unseen, I would've put some more thought into my rags." He gestured to your clothing. It was definitely of higher quality, but it was something you were used to wearing while attending your school in a high-class city. You felt a bit embarrassed, placing your hands in your lap to subtly hide your body.

"And a beautiful doctor like yourself just 'walking the streets'? Some might be concerned for your safety." You tilt your head to the side at his words. Your confusion makes him smirk.

"I'm sure you're aware, kitten, but there seems to be a killer on the loose." He seems far too excited for the subject at hand, and it's almost noticeable.

"Hm. Guess I shouldn't be going out alone and talking to strange men, should I?" You say with a smile.

"I suppose you shouldn't." He shrugs off your words, getting another drink. You didn't even see him finish the previous one. "Though I must say, I'm glad you did. You've been quite the conversationalist." It's barely flirting, but it seems to leave you blushing a bit.

You went on to chat throughout the night, your drunken rambling turned to complaints about your father, and morbid details about what you'd learned in medical school. Both topics that you didn't realize intrigued Alastor to a personal extent. Later on, the rambles started to become incomprehensible. He decides it would be best for you to leave, considering you were refusing to do so and thoroughly embarrassing yourself in the process.

A giggling, stumbling mess, you were carefully lifted from your seat and brought to your feet with his assistance. He helped you out to the streetside, calling a taxi and bringing you into the backseat gently. He then went ahead and paid the driver, and turned at his heels to head back inside.

As he was reaching for the bar's door, a loud call forced him to turn back to the cab.

"Buddy, she's too sloshed to give me an address. You know where she lives?" Shit. Alastor looks to the bar’s door, then to the cab, where he spots you leaning your head against the window in the backseat. He sighs.

After insisting the driver keep the fair, Alastor brought you back out. He kept you standing with a hand on your lower back, as you gripped onto his shirt, far too small to reach your arm over his towering figure. He was cringing at the sight of his clothes becoming disheveled.

"Alright, kitten, where are you staying? I doubt you'd appreciate me taking you to your family home.." He was talking in a hushed voice, in the hopes that you'd have enough conscious to respond, but knew that likely wasn't the case. He looks around the area as if the answer would be in plain sight. He lets out a sigh of defeat when it clearly wasn't.

"Didn't even get to finish my drink.." He mumbles, pulling you closer to keep you stable enough to walk a few blocks.

There, sat a charming little motel. However, calling it charming was.. optimistic. Your memory, to this day, is in small flashes. Only certain things come to mind when trying to picture what went on.

You remember Alastor talking to the older gentleman at the desk. It seemed like they were acquaintances. Maybe they've done business in the past.

You remember him giving up after finding that the room he booked was on the second floor. Unwilling to deal with the staircase, he hoisted you up quite easily. You definitely remember that. How such a slender man can hold you in his arms with no strain.

You remember the room, it was cleaner than you expected. He seated you on the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you to remove your heels. He didn't seem to go much farther than that. He could've removed your entire wardrobe with your state of mind, and you'd be none the wiser. How awful it must be, to live in a world where a man not making a pass, surprises you.

As far as you know, you drifted to sleep almost right after. You're pretty sure he wrapped you in the blankets, and you remember the faint touch of hair being brushed from your face. His hand was far colder than you would have expected.

Being in your occupation, you don't exactly have time to confront all the horrific sights you've seen. So, your body deals with those emotions in other ways. A common occurrence, you were plagued with a number of night terrors. Something seems different in tonight's regularly scheduled program, though. A radio static overwhelms your senses, and any horrifying disfigurations that were taunting you seem to fade into nothing. A yellow grin and glowing red eyes are the last thing you can see.

You woke up the next morning with an excruciating headache, an ache in your stomach, and sore feet. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you barely care about the makeup that you'd smudged beyond repair. You try to recall your dreams, which usually stay vivid in your mind for most of the morning, but.. there's nothing. And despite the killer hangover, you feel more awake than you have in ages.

The panic settled in after you ran your hands across the unfamiliar sheets. With a soft gasp, you observe yourself. Still fully clothed, you spot your heels set next to the door. You look around the room next, and you almost feel relieved, seeing Alastor seated in a lounge chair in the corner of the room. He had his nose in a book. It was better than seeing him lying on the other side of the bed.. wait, was it?

You let out a pathetic little sound, your voice too weak to form any coherent words. He sets the book on his lap, and your sad attempt at a greeting seems to catch his attention.

"Good morning to you, too, kitten. Sleep well?" You were sure he drank as much as last night. If not, more. How dare he look so put together?

"Morning. I-um.. I suppose I did.. I-I hate to ask, but did... did we-" you stammer out, and he quickly holds his hands up in defense.

"Heavens no, dear, I wouldn't dare defile a woman who can't handle her whiskey." You scoff at his insult but still feel disarmed by his reaction.

"So then.. the motel room?" You question. He cocks his head to the side, only now realizing that your memory must've gone from the previous night.

"Ah, so you really can't handle your whiskey.. Well, not to fret, dear. You weren't telling me where you were staying, and Mimzy seemed keen on me taking you elsewhere." In actuality, she was trying to play matchmaker. Thanks for trying, Mimzy.

"I'm sorry for the trouble, Alastor, I hate that you bought a room just for me.. I can pay you back." You sit up, running your hands through your mess of hair and letting out a pained groan.

"I'm sure you can, but I simply can't accept." He stands, tucking the book under his arm and walking to your bedside. You swing your legs over the edge, only to notice how close he seems to hover over you. You look up and realize how statuesque he was. You hadn't seen him in daylight. And his height is much more intimating when he stands.

"It was my pleasure, getting to witness you thoroughly embarrass yourself." He bends at the hips, a taunting smile across his face. You try to recall anything embarrassing you might've done the night before, but you can barely recall a thing. That did little to ease your mind.

"You'll have to tell me about it one day." You grumble, standing with his assistance. He offered to escort you home, and you happily accepted.

The two of you stand on your small porch. It's a quaint duplex you've been renting, you go on about how how the family who lives here travels for the summer and was more than happy to offer their home to such a sweet thing.

"Well, since you insist that I can't handle my liquor, it might be a better idea to find each other.. somewhere other than a joint..." you say sheepishly, your eyes wandering to anywhere but his gaze. When he steps closer, you finally fix your wide eyes on him.

"You don't want me to court you, kitten. You're a lovely, educated, pretty little thing, you'll be wasting your time, unfortunately." He doesn't sound insulting, he says it very truthfully. It only makes you want to see more. To ask him to come in, and stick around awhile. But you're aware he has a broadcast coming up soon. You wonder if he would've stayed by your side if you slept through it.

"I'll be the judge of that. Besides, getting coffee doesn't waste too much time." You decide to stand your ground. You aren't sure why he's refusing if he thinks all that of you. You see him look you up and down, then let out a sigh.

"Hm. I suppose. I'll be back here tomorrow morning since you're so insistent. Just remember I warned you-" He says playfully as he makes his way down the stairs.

"Curiosity killed the cat, my dear!" He calls out before giving another heart-melting smile. You nervously bite your lip and watch him walk off through the cracked door. Like a damned puppy, you couldn't help but watch him walk off. You quickly shut the door, after realizing how hard you were smiling.

-

This was supposed to be for fun. You were just supposed to be some extra company on occasions. And he knew you came with your perks. You were an heir to a decent fortune, it only made sense for him to befriend you. You were knowledgeable and smart, he could definitely benefit from your skills if he needs to do so. There were plenty of ways Alastor could use you if necessary.

But with every little dance, every little coffee, or walk home from the bar, it was making him nervous. Of course, he would never call it that, he's too disgusted by the pangs in his chest he gets around you. Unfiltered, yet still delicate and professional. Incredibly intelligent, yet still makes the silliest mistakes. You were flawed. You came from such a slob of a man, and the fact that you are so kind despite that amazes him more than you realize. You are more than willing to stand for your beliefs. For one of the first times in his life, Alastor admired someone.

He's not sure what conversations led to him agreeing to cook yet another dinner in your home, but here he was; standing at your door with a bag of groceries.

"Oh- you didn't need to do all that, you're always free to use anything in the kitchen." You greet him as he comes inside, where he sets the bag at a nearby counter space. You reach up and pull his trenchcoat off his shoulders, which he willingly surrenders to. It was a little action you took, taking his coat for him when he would stop by. He's come to expect it. You hang it up on the rack nearby.

"Nonsense, I'm sure you have plenty to work with, but I'm following a special recipe tonight." He insisted, already unpacking things, setting up pots and pans, and rolling up his sleeves. He pulled an apron from the bag last, and the sight of him all prepped for cooking leaves you weak in the knees. You want to see this every night. You want him in your kitchen every mealtime. You shake the desires from your head, pushing aside the dreams of domesticity that have been plaguing your mind recently.

"Can I help with anything?" You chime in, peeking around the corner to smile at him through the doorway. He shakes his head.

"If you feel the need to help, you're more than welcome to get the table set, but I am quite in my element here, kitten. So, not to worry." You were mostly listening to him, but one part of you kept your focus on his skillful knife practice, watching him chop vegetables in a nearly professional manner.

"Kitten? The table?" His words and his moving on to something else snapped you from your funk.

"Oh! Of course, yes." You stumble a bit but do as he instructs. It wasn't anything special, but the space was more than enough to give the ambiance of a good date.

Damn, this man could cook. He's cooked for you before, but something you couldn't quite put a finger on left you swooning at the sight of the still-steaming gumbo in front of you.

"Damn, you can cook." You're muttering, between bites. You almost can't taste all its decadence, digging in before letting it fully cool.

"Slow down, dear, we have all night." He says softly, despite bringing a spoonful to his own lips. You catch yourself staring at the sight of him eating beside you, enthralled by his enthusiastic hums.

"So where did this come from? I'm a bit suspicious of the finery if I'm honest." You place your elbows on the table, perching your chin on top of your hands. He scoffs in response.

"How rude. All my meals are of the highest quality. I simply haven't made this in quite a while, I thought tonight would be a good time to do so." He replies.

"A recipe for special occasions, hm? Would you consider this.. a special occasion?" You tease, looking at him with a cocked eyebrow. He looks confused, letting his eyes wander in thought for a moment. Was this a special occasion? Is there any specific reason he wanted to bring his own mother's recipe to some girl he's befriended? He pushes the thought aside, planning on mocking you like usual.

"Any night with you is plenty special, kitten." He hums, popping another spoonful into his mouth. He doesn't see your face turning red, but his oblivious flirting always leaves you flushed.

"In that case, when are you inviting me to your own home? I won't lie and say I'm not curious, Al." You set your finished plate aside and notice his eye twitch. You've been staring at him long enough to notice even his smallest ticks.

"Someday. I've a bit of a mess to go through before considering bringing any guests over." He brushes clean his already pristine top, as you stand and take his empty plate to the kitchen. With a sigh, you take yourself over to the sink to do a quick clean. It's the least you could do after such a lovely meal.

"If you say so." You try your best to sound calm, but you're slightly hurt by his constant rejection of letting you into his personal life. It wasn't all the time, but there were clearly things he refused to talk about. You want nothing more than to know him.

Lost in your mildly upsetting thoughts, you recklessly take one of his knives the wrong way, the blade slicing surprisingly easily down your finger. The shock takes you back more than the actual pain. These are far too nice for everyday cooking.

Letting out a quiet curse, you feel his hand brush over your own, his shadow casting over your entirety. "Such a clutz." You hear, his voice causing you to tense. You let him guide your hand under the water to rinse it, effectively caging you in place.

"Be careful, will you? These are my nicer tools." Interesting way to say it, but you were too focused on the fact that you could feel his breath heating the back of your neck. You simply nod, before turning the water off with your free hand. You turn your body around, leaning your back against the edge of the countertop and effectively facing Alastor. His hands stay planted on either side of you, making it a bit of a tight squeeze. You weren't sure what you were trying to accomplish here, but here you are. Neither of you seem to be moving away, though. He drops his head to look into your eyes. You're lost in them.

You reach your arms upwards, holding them around his neck as best you can, and you feel him willingly lean within your grasp. The moment is heated, you feel his breath against your lips as you pull him impossibly closer. His breath is quick, almost shaky. You've never seen this side of him. You'd never associate Alastor with the term nervous.

Nearly closing the gap, you feel a hand come to your throat and fingers gently holding your jaw. With a quick turn, he places a soft kiss on your cheek. It lingers for a moment, and even if it wasn't what you were expecting, you're gasping beneath his affection. The room seems to cool down for a moment. He steps away silently, pulling his things all together.

You may have made a mistake.

"Oh, Al- I'm sorry I didn't think.. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i-if that's what happened there." Your words quicken, suddenly becoming anxious that you may have upset him.

"No, don't fret." He waves his hand dismissively, his back still turned to you as he keeps himself busy with a bit of tidying. "I'd be an idiot to not expect that, eventually." He almost sounds insulting, a little cocky.

"Why's that? Are you used to women just throwing themselves at you?" You tease but keep yourself from his eyeline.

"Well, yes- but, you've been especially touchy recently. And you seem to be acting like I make you.. nervous. Fidgety." His little observations leave you a bit embarrassed.

"It's not nervous.. exactly. Never mind that, though.. Does.. that interest you..? At all?" It takes you a while to get the question out and it still comes across shaky. You're response is silence. Fill it.

"H-How about a drink before you head off, hm?" You quickly shuffle to your liquor cart, looking for anything to drown out your essential confession.

"It does." You freeze in place, missing the cup entirely with your first pour. That was an answer neither of you were really expecting. You finally turn to him, seeing that he had looked away just as you did.

"So, that means-" you want him to elaborate. You want to hear him say all the things you've been dreaming of. That he wants to spend his free time with you, hold your hand, and kiss it with more than just a greeting in mind. To call you anything other than kitten. Well.. that last part you didn't mind as much.

"I've not prepared myself for such a conversation, but I.. enjoy your company. And your brains.. and you certainly aren't terrible to look at." He said he didn't prepare himself, and it was pretty obvious. This wasn't his usual taunting, his usually eloquent beats. He's pausing between phrases, to come up with the best words on hand.

"Jee, thanks." You roll your eyes, your smile still shining.

"I suppose you leave me speechless, kitten." You leave a radio host, a man who talks for a living and is quite good at it, speechless. This time, he sees the freshly pink hues across your cheek. He lets out a devious chuckle, one you recognize when he's about to do something you'd consider nefarious. He starts to approach you, his clean shoes clicking against the wooden floors being the only sound. You knew you weren't in danger, but you find yourself walking backward until you hit the table. Continuing to lean away from him, he towers over you, only following your avoidance until you are straining to stand upwards.

"Well?" You let out, your words barely a whisper. "Are you going to kiss me or not?"

That seems to shock him a bit, you see his shoulders tense just slightly. You watch him contemplate his next action. He let his hand snake around your waist, not exactly to pull you closer, but his touch still left you weak. With a soft kiss on your lips, he gave you no time to truly enjoy it.

"I hate to repeat myself, but I warned you, kitten. Curious little things like yourself deserve.. more." After processing his words, you're still melting to his touch despite how fleeting it was. He steps away.

"W-What- No! I thought you said you were interested! And that kiss- W-What were-" You throw a bit of a tantrum, but quickly calm yourself. "I don't understand, help me understand. Please.." You sound a bit defeated. He sighs, clearly pained that this conversation has to continue.

"Hm.. I don't believe I'm able to give you everything you need. But, you deserve everything you need. It's as simple as that." He's pausing between words, and his expression shows that he's still not exactly satisfied with how it came out.

You shrank in place and held your arms, your mind trying to scrap together any little hints to what he means. Maybe something he's mentioned in the past. But as elusive as ever, it still just doesn't make sense to you. He catches a glimpse of your upset appearance, then takes in the rest of your state a bit longer. You can feel his eyes on you, forcing you to nervously bite at your lip.

"Okay. Let's forget all that, then." You said softly, smiling the best you can and waving your hand dismissively. He obviously knows that you wouldn't lose these feelings as quickly as he'd hoped. He'd reassure you, you'll get over it.

But you couldn't. You tried, you did. You went on other dates, considering how many men were throwing themselves at you in the right bars. You kept your distance for a bit but still saw him at Mimzy's bar on the weekends. Despite all your potential suitors, you still only seemed to look forward to those nights with Alastor. You'd go as far as to complain about some unruly men to him. His disgusted reactions were a comfort.

You kept trying to pry his real reasoning as to why he wouldn't be with you. He'd admit to not being trustworthy, which you would always dismiss. He'd go on about the other men that would be a much better fit, and all with good reasoning, but you still wouldn't stop pestering him. Then, after a few too many drinks, he finally let slip his disinterest in intimacy. And from everything he's told you, this seemed different. It wasn't an excuse or an avoidance, it was the truth.

"So, you don't find me physically attractive?" You ask him, swirling your half-empty cup.

"It's not that, I assure you. I'd just prefer to shower you in other affections, I suppose." He seems a bit unfiltered tonight, still avoiding your eyes.

"Other affections, hm? Like what, birdy?" You were already enraptured. But you were kicking yourself for getting your hopes up at all. You can see his immediate regret in his words.

"Kitten-"

"Please? I'm just curious." You say sincerely, placing your hand over top of his. You hesitate for a moment, but he seems to not mind the touch.

"Well.. I'd like to buy you the finest things. Any book you're slightly interested in, any frock that draws your eyes, any accessories that would bring out your natural beauty- you deserve it. I want to keep you proudly on my arm throughout the streets, showing everyone that you belong to me. I'd like to cook you every meal, until the day I die." His drunken rants leave an obvious sparkle in your eyes.

"Well that all sounds lovely to me.." you say softly, twisting and turning his hand until your fingers are comfortably interlocked with his. "Simply put, you're not interested in sex?” He was taken aback by your bold words, looking around as if he were nervous someone would hear. “I’ve read about it before, there’s an interesting essay that describes this sort of phenomenon. I'll have to lend it to you.” Your calmness surprises him.

“Well.. Thank you. That puts an end to that, then. Go on and find a man who can properly bed you.” He tries to act just as calm, but his voice still seems a bit frustrated by the idea. You make an act out of tapping your chin and humming in thought.

“No, I’d much rather spend my time with you.” You say bluntly. He quickly chimes in.

“But, I-”

“Alastor, I’ve never met someone as arrogant as you.” You let out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “If you’ll have me, however you want that is, I’d love nothing more than to spend my days with you.” You speak slowly, almost mockingly, trying to get this damned point across after so long.

He’s still quiet, opening his mouth to respond, then letting his lips shut again. He smiles at you. You couldn't ask for a better response. It was the sweetest smile you've ever seen from him, no sign of teasing or mocking you, no hidden intent, and just slightly bashful. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, in a sweet sign of acceptance.

Things went on after that without a hitch. Mostly. There were some kinks to work out, sure, but you were absolutely head over heels for him. No one’s ever brought you this much joy, and having this more intimate side of him, despite its physicalities, was more than you could ever hope for. He’d finally let you into his home after a while. It was near spotless and he was more than willing to show off the space to you. You wondered why he felt the need to stall this for so long. But you’re together now, hardly anything else matters.

As the summer came to an end, and you had to find somewhere else, you were invited to stay with Alastor. After walking freely around town, as promised, with his arm around yours, gossip spread as it always does. Another talk of the town, two unwed youths in the same place, sharing the same bed assumedly. It made you two snicker at the rumors. Living with him was heaven.

Following through his previous statements, he showered you in compliments, cooked every meal for you, and spent as much of his free time with you as he could. He offered little physical affection, little pecks here and there, and had no issue with sharing his bed. It wasn't long before you popped the question. Neither of you were really interested in the big fancy wedding idea, he was even comprehended by the marriage itself, but if anyone could wear down his nerves, it was you. That being said, Alastor did get you a ring that you were sure cost far too much. He brought up the idea of eloping. A little vacation just for the two of you. It sounded perfect.

“Birdy~ You let out in a sing-song tone, opening the door to your shared home. Every time you’d walk up to the house, you’d slow down, taking in your flawless reality every day. You’d hold your hand out to yourself, looking at the still newly polished ring, then finally entering your perfect home.

Although, it wasn’t perfect today.

You call out his name, no response. You know he should be home, so you peak around corners to no avail. You checked tables and counters, no note to be seen.

After setting down your bag, slipping your heels off, and hanging your coat after your quick search, you head to your room to at least change for the evening. You and Alastor usually go visit Mimzy on these nights, an unspoken routine.

On the way to your room, your tights hit a wet splotch on the floor. With a groan of disgust, you finally realize what you had stepped in.

Blood.

Of course, you’d recognize blood. It trailed from the door in front of you.

Alastor assured you this was his office and showed it to you on occasion. The door was always open when he wasn't home, and although you never felt the need to intrude on his personal space, something was clearly wrong. You swung open the door.

“No.”

You cover your mouth after your quiet refusal. You're silent, unwilling to believe what you're seeing. Your darling husband-to-be, kneeling over a stained and still wet corpse wrapped in canvas. His hands are covered in blood. Actually, his entire body is covered in blood.

How he managed to get in and out of the house without making an entire mess was a thought that managed to cross your mind in your state of shock. You glance up for a second to notice one of the heavy bookshelves pushed aside, a sort of patio doorway leading to the swampy area behind the house.

You look at the door, then to Alastor. Who’s giving you a wide-eyed face that pains your chest.

Say something, Alastor. Say something that’ll make this all okay. You're a deer in headlights.

He notices your eyes dart to the right, then back to him, staring for a moment longer. One thing is on your mind without his reassurance. You’re in danger.

Run.

You book it down the hall, clearly going to the exit. Both your feet soaked in blood at this point are tracking through the house. The moment was such a blur, that you hardly remember how far you got before feeling the pain of hitting the floor. You look down after scrambling onto your back, seeing Alastor’s hand wrap around your ankle.

“Hold on! You’re covered in blood, you’re a mess, just-” He sounds deranged. Who is this man? Surely not the one who’s been treating you so well all this time. He sounds anxious and angry. You’re face is stained with tears as he essentially drags you across the floor briefly, not considering his heightened adrenaline in these moments. You kick. You scream.

“Listen to me!” He grabs you by your arms, giving you a good shake. That seems to calm you down.. or at least quiet you down. You’re staring at him wide-eyed, your breath rapid. He has your attention, yet he’s not sure what to say. A pained expression grows on his face. You’re leaving him speechless, again.

“Let’s.. clean you up.” He scoops you up, and maybe it's the shock that leaves you so lenient. Or maybe it's all the good times blurring what you've witnessed. When you come to, you’re sitting in the bath, Alastor by your side, and running a sponge across your arm, thoroughly staining the water with blood. The sight brings a gasp from your lips, that feels like the first breath you've taken in hours.

“A-Alastor-” You let out weakly, your frightened expression now burned into his mind. “Was that real..?”

“It was-” He lets out a pained sigh, seeing if he could soften the truth. It's not possible. “-It was.” no words can save him from this.

“W-Why..?”

“He was rather unpleasant. A man with too much money, who wasted most of his time on hitting his women staff. He had his chance to make things right, I assure you, this is always the last resort.” That doesn't help for obvious reasons. You pull away from his gentle washing.

“Always? You've done this before?” Your voice squeaks as it comes out. You don't want to know the details. But you can't stop the words from spilling from your lips. He stands and rings the sponge out into the sink, watching the red-tinted water swirl down the drain.

“Yes.”

“How many times have you-” You stop yourself finally. You don't want the answer to that one. You don't want the answer to any of these questions. Unconsciously, your mind still seems to piece together every strange thing he’s done and said to you.

Your half-sentence is replied to with silence. He goes on to finish cleaning you up, helping you in and out of the tub, and drying you as best he can. He wraps you in his own robe and brings you to the bedroom. You’re mortified when you notice him guiding you by your shoulders to avoid the bloody footprints still on the ground.

Some time passes. You sit empty-minded on the edge of the bed, your eyes gazing down into nothing. Alastor leans against the vanity across the small room from you. He runs his hands through his hair, pausing and clenching some strands in his fists before moving on.

“I can..get all your belongings together, find you a place to stay. I’ll do what I can to keep you safe.” He finally says, breaking the silence and your endless train of thought. His offer seems reasonable, but you still feel hurt.

“You want me to leave?” You ask quietly, gripping the edges of the robe and shrinking into yourself. He’s shocked by your response, you can hear it in his voice.

“You want to stay?” He asks in response.

“I.. I love you.” You say weakly. It stings to say it out loud. And even more so to hear it. “Will you hurt me? I-If I go to the police? If I rat you out..?” What are you doing? You can’t ask a murderer that. Your mind is running on fear, especially after what you just said. You feel his hand lightly lift your face to his, flinching slightly considering you hadn't noticed him approaching you.

“I would never hurt you. I’d spend my days rotting in a jail cell if it meant you’re safe..and happy. I love you, kitten.” You aren’t used to seeing this face. It’s almost emotionless. You start to picture this face carrying out his murderous intentions. But there's a crack in his psychopathic mask. There's a hint of softness and anguish at the sight of you.

“I don't.. I don't want to leave.” You take a hold of his hand, still shaking and clearly unsure of your words. You hear a soft hiss leave his lips, clearly trying to conceal his reaction to the unexpected. “I don’t want you to be in jail- or.. I suppose I don't want you to be caught..?” You groan, holding tightly onto his hand. “I’m so confused, Alastor. I want things to be normal. I want to go back to when you cooked for me, and.. And go back to planning- o-our elopement…” You let out weakly. He doesn't respond at first, you force your eyes up to meet his. He looks heartbroken at the sight of you.

“I just want to pretend that none of this happened..Please, stop this. F-for me, please don't do this anymore.” Your voice becomes a whisper. His hesitation only makes it all worse. He responds once he feels your grip on him loosen.

“Okay- okay. I’ll clean up this mess, and- I’ll stop. For you.” You manage to give him a weak smile, before resting your head against his chest. After holding you for a moment he settles you into bed after you had essentially fallen asleep in his arms. He does as promised. Mostly. He cleans up the mess at least.

The next morning, you wake up and hope everything that happened before a nightmare. But, you feel his robe still wrapped around you, then notice Alastor’s side of the bed empty. It's real then. It was too vivid. And if it's real.. Then he’s stopping. Because of you. It’s almost touching.

You go on about your day, and he greets you as if nothing is wrong, making your breakfast as usual. He’s chipper and goes on to chat about his plans for today. He’s pretending that nothing went on. How often has he done this? Convincingly pretend that he didn't take a life less than twelve hours ago?

It takes you a few days. A few months.. years, actually. To accept what he had done. You never forgave him, but you accepted it. You had to go on and enjoy your newly wedded life together, didn't you? Alastor had a broadcast to work on, an audience to appease, and you had to work as a physician, helping locals from within their homes. Besides, he stopped the murders after you caught him that one awful night, didn't he?

Didn't he?

Police are at your door. A nightmare of a sight. You open it, putting on your best face. It wasn't as easy as it used to be, but your smile still convinced the public. Leaning against the open door and batting your lashes you greet them sweetly. your face instantly fell to their words. You almost hoped that he had gotten caught. But he didn't.

He's dead.

“Shot in the woods, ma’am. A hunter mistook him for a deer in the dark.” you'd recall these words later, but for now, your ears were ringing and your mind was absent. You thanked them and shut the door.

You can't recall how loudly you screamed and sobbed, or for how long that went on. You need to be held. You need him to hold you and that only pains you more. You mourned for days, canceling appointments, and not answering any guests who were there to offer empty condolences. You rotted in his home. He was so young. You were both so young, there was so much to look forward to in your future. It's all gone now.

The first place you went to was Mimzy's bar. A few months had passed, and all your good liquor had run out. Plus, a familiar face could be a good change of pace right now.

“Oh, hun!” An immediate greeting at the door, Mimzy brings you to the bar. It's a late night on a workday, it was essentially empty. “I'm so sorry for your loss. Everyone in town is worried bout ya! I'm sure you don't wanna hear this, but how are you doin'?” She was right. You didn't want to hear that. You hated that question.

“Fine.” You say squeakly. It was the first word you had spoken in weeks, you realize. She slides you your drink and you immediately down it. She tops it off just for it to be finished off even faster than the last.

“Slow down, hun.” She says, sliding a glass of water to you next. When you drink it thoughtlessly, the absence of alcohol has you scrunching your nose. “I'm sure this isn't the best time, but.. I got somethin’ for ya.” She disappears into some backroom before reapproaching you and your barely touched glass of water. She places an enveloped letter in your hand. Your name written in neat cursive fills its front and your hands start to shake.

“It's from Al. He wanted me to give this to ya. If he ever.. well, if this ever happened.” as she's speaking, you've already opened it and begun reading.

It was instructions. And a large wad of cash. Above the instructions, A small blurb about how sorry he was, how much he loved you, and prayed that you'd never have to read this. Then a list of how to thoroughly clean and dispose of all evidence in his shed.

“Did you know?” you ask Mimzy, your hands crinkling on each side of the letter. She nods. “He never stopped, did he?” You say in a hushed tone, mainly in disbelief to yourself.

“Well- not exactly, no. he was finishing somethin' up in the forest that one night.” Mimzy talks as if she's practiced this conversation. He must've kept her up to date with all this.

“He told me he would stop. He said he was doing it for me-” You grip at your heart, letting out a shaky breath.

“What important is that he loved ya, right? He was an equal opportunity killer, hun, he only did what he had to. It was for the greater good, ya know?” Mimzy was speaking far too calmly about this. you let out a flurry of curses, shoving the crumpled-up instructions into your purse before standing at the bar.

“You're all fucking psychopaths!” You yell out to the empty bar and leave the building in a huff. 

You needed to leave town. The two people you were closest to were both criminals. And being in this house was only hurting you more. You packed as much as you could, hand hovering over the phone to call for a taxi. You freeze in place. Then see your ring. You look at it for a moment, the light giving it a beautiful shine. With a defeated sigh, you set your bags aside and pull the instructions back out from your purse, straightening it out as best you could.

After finishing a very thorough cleaning, and questioning your actions through it all, you did everything on the list. You burned the letter alongside some other items that he told you to dispose of. You still aren't sure why you did it. He was never caught before and he must have cleaned up his job in the forest before getting shot. Maybe it was for the best. Let his radio persona live on. Let it be the last nice thing you ever do for him. You finally leave that hellhole behind.

-

You went on to live another sixty years, quite a feat if you must admit. You weren't much of a religious person, so passing in your sleep and waking up in the streets of Pentagram City, was a bit of a shock. After accepting the idea of an afterlife, you put the little details together. You were sure after all that went down in your youth, you would end up here. And if you're here, then maybe..

There are more important things right now. Lucky for you, you fell right in the middle of a bustling street. You scramble to your feet and quickly escape the speeding cars. Why were there cars in Hell? Why did it look so much like a big city you would visit at some point, how is it so human? There was so much to question, but you were desperate to find any sort of sanctuary.

You weren't sure why your first thought was to find the nearest bar, but something seemed to bring you in. You're almost disappointed in yourself for stepping into a club decorated as a 20s speakeasy. But it was familiar- nostalgic. A shrill voice draws your attention.

"Oh my stars! Get over here, doll!" The shriek brings your attention to the bar, where a slightly familiar face greets you. “What are ya gawkin’ at? It’s me! Mimzy? Get that tail over here!” Mimzy owns a club even in Hell? You approach her after some more beckoning.

"Long time no see! How long you been in?" She goes on. You observe her appearance as she speaks. She looks almost the same. The red eyes and sharp teeth were definitely new. You realize you hadn't had the chance to take in your own appearance, but clearly, it must've been similar enough for her to recognize you. Still questioning your position, you finally process her words.

"Oh- I just arrived actually. Lucky me to walk straight into your bar, hm?" You lean against the counter as she pours you a drink, a flurry of trauma and nostalgia turns to confusion.

"Wow! You had quite a life after old Al got you outta town, didn't ya?” She teased. You let out a nervous chuckle. Good old Al. You haven't thought about him in years. You were so young, so head over heels for this man you barely knew. You somehow managed to suppress all the bad times as you aged. Mimzy notices your face droop a bit.

"I suppose I did.." a brief smile meets the wedding band still on your hand.

"Well? Finally gonna reunite? Ooh! How romantic! You'll have to update me, sweetie!" Mimzy bats at you, letting out an excited giggle. You quickly shake your head, not processing any other way to respond.

"I-I can't- I mean.. Not after everything he’s done.” Your hands clench at even the thought.

“Sorry to break it to ya, but we’re all for a reason. You got plenty of time to forgive him, with the whole eternal punishment of it all.” Mimzy’s tone drops to a more serious one as if she’s heard that line before. “Not everyone’s lucky enough to rot in Hell with someone they love, you should see what he’s up to!” Her tone seems to immediately switch to something more chipper.

“Still, I uh.. I shouldn't. He’s been dead for so long, I’m sure he’s got some other dame cleaning up his messes.” Excuses. You didn't want to see him, because this is his fault. You're here because you helped clean up his space after his unfortunate death. Even when you had no idea, he relied on you. He trusted you to carry this burden for the rest of your life. Your rage was suppressed when you heard Mimzy's voice chime back in.

"Nope! He's been busy with uh.. his work. Still wears the ring, though~" She hums, tapping her finger to emphasize her words. You look down at your own hand. Why did you still wear yours, again? You never remarried, but mainly because of the trust issues that were instilled in you for the rest of your life. Maybe it wouldn't be a terrible idea..

“N-No, I just cant..” You let out louder than you meant to. Mimzy shrugs off your panic. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare room, would you, Mimzy?”

-

Mimzy did in fact have a spare room. You stayed in one of the ratty rooms about the bar, alongside some of the demons that rented the rooms for their own business. You realized, after finding a mirror, that you were portrayed with some feline features, nothing too disfiguring. Once you saw your new form, Alastor’s voice, every single time he beckoned you with kitten, rang throughout your mind. You couldn't bring yourself to look at yourself for the first few months. This was Hell after all. Eternal punishment can manifest in several ways.

Mimzy was still a clear supporter of Alastor, so she had a radio set up in your room already. No matter how hard you tried, you realize pretty early on that Alastor had some power over the radios that force his broadcasts to be the only thing streaming. You heard it all. The screams of souls being torn apart, his constant gossiping and cruel words making fun of other demons.

But damn, if it didn't feel like living again. Waking up every morning to the sound of his voice on the radio, before you can truly decipher what he’s talking about, it almost feels like a normal life. But then you hear the pain in those demons that he’s mercilessly tearing up. Sometimes, you see Mimzy cheering at the radio like some sports game is being narrated. You try to avoid her when she’s doing that.

Things were comfortable for many years. As comfortable as Hell can be, at least. Alastor became a distant part of your daily routine, you'd hear his broadcasts all the time, but only in addition to the other bustling city noises. It all seemed to cancel out after a while. You worked with Mimzy, picking up at the bar when she had to run off. In exchange, you stayed in that room indefinitely. You two seemed to become friends again, despite your living history. It became clear to you that what happened when you were alive really didn't matter down here. You all made the same degree of mistakes and you all learned that you’re here for the same reasons.

You went through extermination days as best you could, only having one face-to-face interaction. That day, you were already on the verge of death from falling debris and trying to escape a specifically insistent exorcist. She had you cornered. You shut your eyes, wincing at the upcoming angelic weapon you saw her raise at you. Only feeling a slight sting across the bridge of your nose and cheek, you open your eyes to see her flying back towards the portal to heaven. You can't believe you got that lucky. You’re still in disbelief at the entire scenario, but unlike most wounds down here, your face was permanently scarred. It was small, barely noticeable! Mimzy says.

But you knew not everyone had this much luck on extermination day. After noticing the silence on the streets, during the most recent extermination, you nervously left the bar. Everything was empty. The portal had opened closer to that hotel you’d heard of. And the exorcists were going straight to it. You scoffed, walking back into the bar. They’d finish off those demons there quickly, so you still wanted to hide. As you barred yourself up in your room, you remembered Mimzy telling you about her visit to that hotel. About why she visited the hotel. Alastor's there. You try to not panic. It’s been decades, why are you worried about him? Besides you know how powerful he is, you've picked up his whole radio demon shtick from others. He’ll be fine.

Then why are you so restless?

A loud knocking at your door shakes your entire core. You keep yourself hauled up in the corner of your room, covering your ears and squeezing your eyes shut. You still hear a voice call your name from the other side of the door.

“You gotta come see this! The angels are gone!” It's Mimzy. it's far earlier than usual, you were almost worried it was some new tactic they picked up. You crack the door open just slightly, and her small frame pummeled the door open. She paces your room, rambling words that you barely catch, and she shoves her phone to your face. You have to take it from her shaking hands to get a glimpse. It's hard to see, but it's very obviously footage of Alastor fighting Adam. His body is warped through the drone’s camera, and you watch him fade away into nothingness after one blow. There was no audio, You couldn't hear what happened. Considering you weren't familiar with his shadow antics, you had no idea what actually happened to him.

“You gotta find out if he's okay! I can't go back to that hotel, you gotta do it!” she sounds frantic, taking her phone back. “What? Absolutely not! I'm sure he's fine.” You wave your hand dismissively, despite the hesitance in your voice. Everyone's in Hell for the same reasons. Your mind goes back and forth on the possibility of forgiveness.. of mending burned bridges.

“The videos from a few hours ago, those angels are gone! Ooh.. He's just gotta be okay..” You didn't realize how much Mimzy actually appreciated Alastor. Whether it be the protection he offers or their actual friendship, you aren't sure. But she's clearly worried about him. You just aren't ready.

Mimzy spent the next few days begging you to go down there and find him. And you refused every time. She mentioned going to Cannibal Town to visit his "Gal Pal" and even she hadn't heard from him. He's disappeared before, just recently too, You're sure it was just like his last seven-year absence. Even if you were getting a bit worried, you'd never admit it. There were no broadcasts, there was no public trash-talking from the Vees, it was just.. quiet.

“Didn't you love him?” You stare at Mimzy, in disbelief that she just said that.

“Excuse me?” That seemed to strike a nerve. And maybe she meant to do that.

“I remember you two in my bar, you were two peas in a pod! I've never seen him like that with any gal, hun. That's not somethin' that just goes away.” Mimzy takes your hand from across the bar. “Please, go check on him. Maybe it'll be like a final hurrah, but I just gotta know if he's okay.” You look around the room as if someone would offer to go in your place. But she's right. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't missing his broadcasts. You let out a dejected sigh.

“Okay.. okay! Fine.” You huff. An immediate change in attitude, Mimzy lets out an excited exclamation and pours the two of you drinks, to celebrate her pushy victory.

-

You take in a deep breath, looking around the new hotel's exterior. It was much larger than the previous one and more lavish. You hesitate before knocking on the door. A series of whispered voices, then scrambling feet, follow the door opening. It's the princess of Hell. You weren't expecting Alastor to greet you, but you still feel a bit disappointed.

“Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Ho-” You quickly interrupt.

“No! Nono, sorry.” You laugh Nervously. “I'm not here for the whole.. redemption thing. Is.. uh…” You peek around her shoulder, seeing a few demons you recognize from the commercial, but no Alastor.

“Is the radio demon here..?” You finally ask quietly. Charlie still seems a little hurt from the interruption, but just because you're not interested in redemption doesn't mean she won't try to convince you.

“Alastor? Sure! He's been in his tower since we reopened.. So, he's probably up there.” She explains, pulling you into the building despite your refusal. “I can go get him for you! What's your name? I'll tell him who-”

"That's actually okay! I was sent to check up on him, so.. if he's alive, then that's all I need to hear!” Mimzy will just have to be satisfied with that. You're chickening out. If they're saying he's fine, then that's good enough for you. The longer you're here, the more anxious you're becoming. You're worried he could pop out of nowhere. Which is a legitimate concern apparently. 

“Charlie!” A greeting comes from behind the blonde, and you see a red-clawed hand engulf her shoulder. “Already a new resident? How exciting! What unfortunate sinner has found themselves here as a last resort.. today…” 

You know that voice. Of course, you know that voice. He looks fairly similar to how he did when he was alive, the hair was new. Ditto the antlers. A deer? They turned him into a deer down here? You almost want to laugh. Maybe being in Hell for so long has turned your sense of humor that crude. You're staring with wide eyes. He whispers your name so quietly that all you can really take in is his lips forming the word.

“Hey, Al! She was just looking for you! I think she might be worried, right?” 

Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up-

“I.. was! But I see he’s clearly fine now, so! I should get back to Mimzy’s-” 

“Mimzy? You're with that trainwreck?” a low voice comes from the bar, interrupting the conversation. The cat demon behind the counter scoffs at you. “Nice ears.” They fold down involuntarily from embarrassment.

“Kitten.” You immediately turn at the sound of Alastor’s voice, shivers thoroughly covering your body. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but it clamps shut. His eyes widen for a moment, looking around the room to see how almost every resident had gathered to witness the new face. You start to back away to the door.

“This may not have been the best idea.. T-thank you, princess, it was nice meeting you.” with a blink of your eye, Alastor’s arm is around your shoulder. 

“Why of course! Thank you for visiting! I'll escort you out!” His chipper attitude startles you, and you feel almost insulted by his eagerness to have you leave.

“Oh! Well.. come back anytime! Our doors are always open!” You hear Charlie call out as Alastor takes you outside the building. Before you even have a chance to protest, you're suddenly in a recording room. Your mouth is still open ready to scold him, but instead, you examine the dizzying change in scenery. Your eyes finally drop to Alastor, who had taken both your shoulders and let his head drop from your view. He startles to mumble.

“W-What are you-”

“Why didn't you tell me you were here?” His head finally lifts and you catch his perplexed expression. Pained eyes paired with a strained smile, it's almost frightening.

“W-Well, I.. it was just-” 

“When did you arrive?”

“A few.. decades ago..?”

“Decades?” His voice goes low and static. You pull away from his grasp as his voice changes. “You shouldn't be here. There has to be a mistake.” His voice returns to normal, and he starts to pace the room. Mumbling more nonsense to himself, he starts gripping at his hair. 

You watch this for a while, before finally approaching him. You take hold of his arm, effectively stopping him in place. Pulling down his arm, you feel the grasp on his hair loosen.

“Calm down. You're pulling your hair out, again.” You say softly, brushing his hand clean of stray hairs he had torn out. Reaching forward you attempt to brush his hair back into place. Your hand pauses, hovering just by his cheek. You want to hold him. He seems to follow your hand when you decide to quickly distance yourself.

His eyes look bloodshot and demonic. How could you still possibly be getting lost in them?

“You shouldn't be here, kitten. You’re here because of me.” You flinch at his words, despite how true they are, you manage to feel some underlying guilt.

“Yeah.. Mimzy just wanted to know if you were alright. And you seem just fine. I should go.” You say bluntly, taking hold of your arms and going towards the door.

“Why didn't you find me?” His words cause you to stop.

“Sorry, you weren't exactly the first thing on my mind when I woke up in Hell.”

“Kitten, I-” His voice seems to drop the radio static. It sounds entirely too familiar.

“-don't call me that.” You snap, biting at your lip unconsciously.

“I'm sorry.” He finally says. “It was.. irresponsible of me to lie to you. I made a mistake.” He sounds more embarrassed to admit he messed up. His ego makes you scoff.

“Yes, it was irresponsible. It was downright cruel, Alastor. I had to live with the burden of your murders and had to die with the consequences.” You turn back to face him, a rage that had been boiling for decades finally spilling over. “I did so much good after you died. It has to be your fault I'm here. I never told the cops, I followed your ridiculous instructions, and it was the worst decision of my life! And now I'm paying for it. For being too far in love to realize that you were just using me!” You've had this conversation in your head so many times, that you have no issue saying exactly what you want.

“No!" He stops himself before he can shout anything else. "I assure you, that isn't the case at all. I love you more than I can put into words, kitten, can't we just-” Alastor reaches his hand out to you and you quickly lean away. You spot the ring on his finger.

“Love? You used me to make sure your record stayed clean! That's not love.” You hiss.

“I did it to protect you. I gave you everything you needed to remove yourself from the situation if anything were to happen to me. You said you went on to do good, and I believe you. That was because of me! The letter and the money were both for your safety- I was helping you.” He isn’t exactly shouting, but his tone is certainly sending chills down your spine.

“You don't get to take credit for my life! I should have never come!” You fling your arms up, turning back to the door. He grabs your arm and turns you back to him, a tight grip on your shoulders. He opens his mouth to seemingly scold you, and you're ready to bite back. You notice him scanning over your facial features, and his expression seems to falter.

“What happened to you?” He runs a clawed finger delicately across the scar on your cheek. It had faded but was still visible. You wince at his touch, which makes him pull his hand back.

“Oh, don't act like you care.” You mumble.

“Of course, I care.” His soft response forces a pained groan from your lips. 

“All these sweet words you’re saying.. I-I don’t know what to think with that ridiculous smile.. I can't take you seriously!” Your voice is beginning to crack, losing the strength to have this go on.

“About that-”

“I hate you.” He flinches at your words, Out of everything you’ve said, you don't understand why that seems to silence him. He grips onto his chest, his coat and shirt scrunching into his fist. You watch him drop his head, bracing himself on his desk that he had stumbled to. You’re sure he’s being dramatic. Hamming it up to get some sort of pity. A sigh passes your lips.

“Um.. Alastor… I didn't mean to-” His act only fools you a little bit. You wonder if you’ve let out too much steam. If he really-

Before you can finish any other thoughts, he collapses to the floor.

“Fuck-” You quickly move to his side, flipping him to his back and helping him at least prop himself up against a wall. “Should I get-”

“Don't tell the others.” He breathes out, putting his hand up dismissively. With the wave of his hand, you see the blood across his palm. Your eyes follow the source to a continuously growing stain on his top. The sight of blood didn't seem to bother you after everything. “Just help me up.” 

“O-Okay.” You do as he says, helping him stand. Almost feeling like an instinct, you pull his coat off of his shoulders. He struggles to keep up with the movement but still gives in. He quickly loses his strength and stumbles to the small couch nearby. You almost enjoy watching him stubbornly refuse your help.

“I.. might require.. some assistance.” He says it so softly you almost want to ask him to repeat himself. Even if you understood him just fine.

“You're asking for help?” You correct him, placing your hands on your hips.

“I don't need help.” He snaps. You would've been offended if you knew he was just to flustered to admit it.

“Then what do you need?” You sit beside him on the couch, placing your hand on his blood-stained shirt. He immediately winces.

“For.. you to stitch this up.” You start unbuttoning his shirt, your hands grazing the fluff of his chest with a mild curiosity. You finally get the full scope of a completely untreated slash that would've surely killed any human if left untreated. But for an almost immortal demon, it was just a painful nuisance. Very painful.

“From your fight with… You want me to help you stitch this up?” You ask because that it seems near impossible to do so, even with someone of your medical history. It's wide and seems to be covered with specks of gold. It feels like small shards of glass when you swipe your hand over him.

“.. yes.” He says quietly. You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head at him. He’s reckless, too stubborn to have looked at the wound because of its reminder of his defeat. And you know that's exactly why it got this bad. No matter how small, Alastor sees the smile growing on you.

“I missed your smile.” He says softly.

“Please stop saying things like that.. You're confusing me.” You make sure to speak your words quietly as if you don't want them to be heard. A small demonic creature rushes to your side, holding a tray up with the essentials to properly treat the slash. It stays perfectly still once in your reach.

You went to work, after some proper scolding, trying your best to keep the process as painless as possible. Every so often, you wonder why you are being so careful with him. He doesn't deserve your tenderness. Your thoughts are stopped when you see his hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away. His face is scrunched, a hiss passing by his tormented smile. You must've hit the wrong spot while lost in thought. Your eyes fall to his ring, again.

“Why did you keep this on?” You ask, examining his hand that’s still engulfing your wrist.

“It reminds me of you. And yours?” His voice is hushed, still recovering from the pain. You realize he has a full view of your own hand, your wedding band sitting just as clear to him.

“It.. reminds me of what you did to me.” You hear a quiet groan in response to your words, and he releases your arm, gripping the couch in its stead. You keep going.

“I'll admit, I was worried about you.. after the battle with Adam. Maybe it was Mimzy getting me all worked up..” You finally admit. You don’t want him to think you’ve spent your whole life and death hating him. But why would it matter either way?

“I can't be killed, you had nothing to worry about.” He replies, not willing to comment on your sudden vulnerability. Not in this position. All you can do is laugh at him. He's clearly talking out his ass.

“Looks like you got pretty close to it.” You scoff. His ears flatten, and he looks away like a stubborn child.

You finish up after an hour. It felt much longer. The silence with quiet quips mixed in, the surprisingly intimate moment, it was suffocatingly uncomfortable.

“I didn't want to come here. I was perfectly content in being in Hell. I didn't expect this form of torture.” You say, setting everything back onto the little tray presented to you. That little demon had been standing there this whole time. You notice it started shaking a while ago.

“Come now, you're being dramatic. You chose to find me, did you not?” He says, sitting a bit taller with the regained strength.

“I'm not being dramatic! You try to avoid Mimzy's constant nagging! I hear your voice everywhere, see all the ads for this hotel, and they made me a damn cat, Alastor!” You feel yourself starting to lose your composure, gripping your hair and letting out a pained laughter. “H-how unfair is that..?” You let out a weak chuckle, feeling tears well in your eyes. He pulls your hand away from your hair, brushing his thumb across your ring as he holds you for a moment longer.

“Completely unfair. Your appearance may be.. unappealing … to you, but your face is still the same. Your eyes still bright as usual, your smile just as sweet.” His sincerity is muddling your thoughts. Those thoughts that warn you he’s hurt you before. And now he’s a cruel overlord, he’ll hurt you again tenfold. You feel his thumb drag along your lip after realizing you had leaned in towards him.

“Still biting your lip, hm?” His static fades again, and you wince at the raw skin he's brushing over. Old habits apparently don’t die hard.

“N-nervous tick, I guess..” His closeness leaves you a bit breathless.

“Do I make you nervous?” His tone confuses you. There’s an underlying sense of worry, a genuine concern for your well-being. But you’re still distracted by his strange smile. You don’t have much time to think any further about it before you’re startled by gentle lips against yours. It’s quick but is more than enough to let out a flood of feelings you’ve been suppressing since the day you left your hometown. He looks at you with a sly smile on his face.

“I’m still mad at you.” You say quietly.

“I know.” He kisses you, again.

“Y-You don’t have to-” He interrupts you with another kiss.

“I know.” Still holding your face you barely take in his next words with a clear head. “I miss you.” Another kiss, just to throw you off this time, “I miss having you at my side.

Stay.. please.”

There was no way you would drop everything to live with a man you were barely married to in life. That didn't stop you from seeing him more, though. You were actually.. kind of glad to see him. To patch things up, even just a little. You’d visit, sneaking around at first to avoid any interaction from the other residents of the hotel. They were all more than intimidating to you. Especially considering one of them was the king of Hell. Alastor was more than happy to keep you away from him, though.

You updated Mimzy on how he was when you left that first night, but you left out the unimportant bits.. Like the giant angelic slash across his chest. You didn’t need Alastor to tell you that you shouldn't be going around spreading that information. A true accomplice. When Mimzy noticed you were visiting him to the point where you couldn't cover the bar when she needed you to, she was more than happy to kick you out. You knew exactly what she was doing. She didn't want you homeless, but you were essentially left with nowhere to go. Except for the hotel.

It wasn’t the worst thing to happen.. Things almost seemed normal. Alastor had lots of sucking up to do, even though he wouldn't call it that. He was definitely working at it. Making you breakfast like before, treating you like even higher royalty than he ever could while alive. He has the power to do so now and he fully intends to use it. And it’s working.. A little bit.

Okay, a lot.

You’re shocked that he still seems the same after becoming the powerful overlord he is. You’d love to convince yourself that none of that mattered, his status in Hell or what happened when you were alive. That you could just forget mortality to look forward to the potential future facing you. It’s easier said than done.

You're still struggling with your nightmares. Even more so in Hell, likely another form of punishment. Something about the hotel seemed to subdue some of them actually. As if the air were clearer here. It only helped most nights, though. Whenever you woke up in a cold sweat, struggling to breathe, clutching at your heart, there was only one thing to calm you. The radio at your nightstand would play a specific song. One that Mimzy was fond of, so you heard it most nights at her bar on Earth. Whenever you heard that, you knew he was there. He was waiting for you.

"Birdy?" You knock on his door, which seems to open slowly just from your touch. Alastor is sitting contently in front of his firepit. This wasn't the first time you've found him in the middle of the night.

"Another one, my love?" He tilts his head up slightly, the book he had in his hand shutting immediately. You nod your head slowly, already approaching him. Your blanket still wrapped around your shoulders is dragging across the ground. You give him a look he recognizes, and he nods at the implications. Without caution, you let out a tired whimper and plop into his lap. He pulls the blanket over your entirety.

Getting completely comfortable, he adjusts his arms to pull his book back to his eyeline. With your head nuzzled against his shoulder, you're too tired to conceal your little habit of purring. He doesn't mind, though. He loves it.

♡♡♡

Another big boy for ya 🫶

Human Alastor is really fun to write for, I had to do some research tho lol

I tried to keep Alastor's sexuality in mind, so I hope I represented it well. That's always something that makes me nervous when writing for Al 😬

Taglist!

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest / @the-maladaptive-daydreamers /@str4wberry-t00th-anon / @voxrei / @raythegay / @whoknowswhoiamtoday )

[cntloup]

After almost four months of working for Simon, you take a maternity leave... and your feelings for him start to bubble up

Simon bumps into you, a troubled woman whose boyfriend kicked her out after he found out she's pregnant

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

He holds you, gently rubbing your back as your stomach heaves and you throw up your lunch. You're in your third trimester and it’s been hell for you. 

You sob onto his chest while clinging to him, from the agonizing pain in your abdomen and the unbearable nausea. 

“Shh, it’s ok, luvie. I've got you.” he coos, holding you tighter and cradling your head against his chest as you bawl your eyes out. 

Even though your mind is somewhat dazed, your heart still flutters at the nickname. 

In almost four months of working as his assistant, you slowly drifted closer and closer to each other.

But you still don't know if you'd call yourselves friends or not, it's something more, yet less than what you wish to be.

After a few minutes spent on the bathroom floor in his office, you finally calm down a bit. 

“I’m so sorry. I don’t think I can work like this.” you apologize sheepishly while looking up at him through glossy eyes, still in his arms. 

“That’s fine. You'll be on leave until you’re ready.” he says, looking back at you through hooded eyes. 

“Really? There's no problem with that?” 

“Yeah. It's ok. We'll get a substitute for now. The leave is with pay of course so no worries about money problems.” he responds and you throw your arms around him happily and hug him as well as you can with your swollen tummy, “Oh, Simon! Thank you so much.” 

“ ‘s nothin’.” he replies while hugging you back. 

“You can come stay with me, you know?” he mentions as he pulls away to look at you, your hair disheveled and your eyes puffy and red while sitting on the bathroom floor after throwing up for nearly half an hour, but oh how he still adores you... in this state... or in any state to be honest. 

“Are you sure?” you whisper, throat too hoarse to speak any louder. 

“I’m sure.” he replies sternly with a nod and you gaze into his eyes gratefully. 

“I’ll help you pack up.” he adds, taking your silence and the look you just gave him as a yes. 

“Thank you.” you say and try to get up, but fail miserably with your huge belly and utter exhaustion. 

He gets up first and helps you up, “Careful, luv.” he murmurs as you stumble a bit, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you steady. 

He helps you gather your stuff and carefully walks you to his car to drop you off at his place, his hand finding your waist and the other one holding yours.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be fine alone?” he asks with concern as he pulls up into his driveway. 

“Yes, I'm gonna be fine for a few hours. In fact, I'm gonna take a nap.” you respond reassuringly with a smile. 

“Take care, luv.” he smiles and you wave goodbye. 

He leaves as you step inside the house and close the door. 

You lean against the door and let out a squeal and giggle like a schoolgirl. 

And you don’t even know why. Is it the hormones? Is it him? 

It’s been a while since he’s making you feel some type of way. 

You settle on the couch to take a nap, not wanting to take up his bed even though you know he wouldn’t mind. But still, it feels like an invasion of his privacy. 

You don’t get much sleep as your mind and heart are encompassed by him. 

You keep tossing and turning. For hours. Even though you’re utterly exhausted. 

Until he returns home and walks over to you, “Hey... why didn't you sleep on the bed?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows.

“Well, I didn’t really sleep at all.” you mumble as you try to get up, looking at him over the back of the couch.

“Why? You ok?” he asks with a concerned look etched on his face as he helps you sit up on the couch and he sits beside you. 

“I’m fine, Si. It's just that... the hormones are making me feel weird is all.” you ramble, not really knowing how to answer him, also using the nickname which he insisted on you using. It just makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Do you need to go to the doctor?” he questions further, worry creeping up on him. 

“No. It's fine. I'll take some pills and try to get some sleep. Don't worry.” you try to play it cool and shrug it off.

He gently carries you to bed and brings your meds, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing them to you with a glass of water. 

“Get some rest, luv. I'll make you something to eat.” he mutters while tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as you lie down, eyes locked onto one another, making your heart skip a beat.

You let out a sigh and shut your eyes after he leaves, in hopes of getting even a little bit of much-needed sleep.

[sofiareidings]

Coffee Runs

Summary: The guy who's been coming to the cafe you work at finally asked why you've never called him by his name.

A/N: I'm sorry this story is so late, especially since I missed Monday's post. School has been so busy this week and I've also had a bunch if extracurricular lately. I'll try and be more on time from now on (Don't hold me to that) Also! I got the idea for this one shot from @hanllo-kitty

Word Count: 0.8k

Song Suggestions: Invisible String - Taylor Swift

It was a good job, a great job really. The cafe was in a nicer part of town and people would subconsciously give nice tips so your pay was good. Rarely were customers terrible. Most people that came in were students or really busy people rushing in and going.

There were a few regulars. Like Joe, Joe was an eighty year old man who came in everyday for a coffee and a sandwich. While he waited he would talk about the lotto numbers and how his kids were doing. There was also Lola, she was a journalist who spent most of her day sitting in the corner of the cafe while refilling the same cup until closing.

But there was only one regular you would think about while getting ready for work.

Come on, I don't know his name. Don't shoot the messenger.

He'd been coming in for the past three months almost everyday, right after the cafe opened for a coffee. He always looked a little tired and acted like it too. He barely made conversation and normally shuffled out of the store in the same fashion as the other overworked people; quickly.

You hadn't learned his name yet. He always seemed to forget to say it when you asked, which resulted in you making up something.

"Guy with the sweater vest!"

"Guy in the purple!"

"Guy with the scarf!"

You get the point.

He was your favourite regular because of his looks. God, even when he was incredibly sleep deprived he looked beautiful. He had brown hair that fell just below his sharp jaw. Brown eyes that always happened to be in the light from the cafe window, making the small gold flakes in his eyes shine. He was normally dressed in a sweater vest and neutral pants, he probably worked at some type of office. The one part of him that stood out in his outfits were his converse, odd for the rest of his outfit. You could've sworn a few times you saw brightly coloured mismatched socks.

***

The sound of the cafe bell echoed through the nearly empty shop, having only opened half an hour ago. Smiling in the direction of the person walking in you quickly noticed it was 'Guy with *whatever he had on*" who came in. Something was different, he had thick glasses on. That was new.

"Hey, just the regular coffee and donut?" You put the order into the computer, looking back up at him. Taking in the new look.

"Yeah, thanks." His lips creased into a line, you called it a tired smile, the same one he made everyday. He handed over his money and poured the change into the tip jar then stepped back to wait for his order.

A couple minutes later you came back to the counter with his order. "Guy with the glasses!"

He did his usual, smiled and grabbed his order saying bye. But just when he reached the threshold of the door he paused and turned. "Why do you do that?"

Having already turned around you paused, this was the first time he'd talked to you in a clear voice. You weren't really sure what he meant. "Do what? Did I get your order wrong?"

He cleared his throat and seemed a little frustrated. "You never say my name, you just call me guy with something. Is it just to annoy me?"

"What? No, you've just never told me your name." Laughing a little, realising the misunderstanding.

"I didn't?" His face changed to confusion, "Oh my gosh, I didn't." He realised his mistake then his face flushed a shade of red.

"Don't worry, it's okay. Guy with the glasses." You laughed, looking around the cafe for a minute, strange it was still pretty empty.

"I am so sorry, I thought I told you and you just wanted to annoy me. I feel like a jerk, you seem so nice." Genuinely sorry he apologised profusely. "Can I make it up to you?"

Deciding to take the chance, you'd been daydreaming about this guy for months. "Well, maybe you could take me on a date." A little shocked by your own boldness, your face went up like twelve degrees.

"Uh, yeah…" He trailed off, clearly flustered. "Yeah, I would really like that."

"Well then, it's a date." You beamed, internally jumping up and down out of excitement. Since when were you so forward? He made that smile he made everyday before turning towards the door again.

That's when you realised.

"Wait!" You shouted, louder than you expected. Causing your coworker to drop a cup. "You still haven't told me your name."

"It's Spencer. I'll make sure to be back tomorrow." He nodded again and chuckled lightly before finally walking through the door.

God could tomorrow morning come any quicker.

[multiversefanfics]

Oh My God

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Fem!Reader Summary: He has a huge crush on you, everyone knows but you (good thing you're pretty), you think he's attractive, but you don't think he's interested. Warnings: cussing, mention of violence, sexual innuendos. Word Count: 810

You decided you wanted to clean up the community room while they were out on a mission, and you figured it would be nice to come back to a clean compound after several long days away. While you were sweeping the kitchen, you heard the door open and the sound of booming voices filtering through the room, you looked up and saw everyone coming in throwing their stuff off to the side

“Hey! Pick it up, I just spent hours cleaning, take those to your room!" Everyone stopped in their tracks and stared at you. "Did I stutter?" They all shook their head and took their bags up to their rooms except for Thor.

You stared straight into his eyes "Thor." He stared back and smirked

"Y/N." Your gaze softened but didn't drop

"Did you hear what I said?" He nodded and walked toward you

"Yes, but I don't plan on staying so I will take it when I leave." You groaned and threw your head back

"Why must you be so difficult" He smiled and winked at you

"Is there anything I can help you with?" You shook your head.

"Everything is done, I appreciate it though." He continued to walk toward you, leaning on the counter beside you.

"Wanna grab some lunch?" You scrunched up your face looking over at him

“I have to shower before we go and that’ll probably take too long and you have plans, so it’s okay.” Thor rolled his eyes and turned to face you

“Getting lunch with you are my plans, so what do you say?” You were shocked but also intrigued by his offer.

Of course, you accepted you'd be crazy not to. The two of you went to lunch, and on your way back, Thor was talking about a mystery girl that he had a crush on.

You felt some type of way but how could you be mad neither of you confessed your feelings, instead of showing him how you felt you swallowed your feelings and listened to what he was saying

"Have you told her?" He sighed and shook his head

"No, but I've dropped hints to her maybe she noticed and is waiting for me to actually come out and say it." The two of you walked up to the compound

"Maybe do like a grand gesture, buy her something she likes, take her somewhere that means something to you or her."

Thor opened the door for you and watched you walk in. "Women like things like that?" You nodded and put your leftovers in the fridge.

"Yeah, flowers go a long way. Find out her favorite flower and buy her like a dozen, or if you want to be super cheesy, get a flower for every moment she's made you smile or something cute like that." Thor smiled and thought about it.

"That would be a thousand flowers." He wasn't exaggerating, either. You've made him smile every day since you met two and a half years ago.

"That's really cute, you should definitely do it, is she a flower type of person?" He shrugged

"We've never talked about it, if this was you, what would you want?" You thought for a second,

"Honestly, strawberries. Chocolate or regular, I love strawberries." You smiled to yourself, dreaming about strawberries.

Thor pulled you from your thoughts when he chuckled at your dream face "Sorry, I love strawberries" You smiled wide, said your goodbyes, and retreated to your room.

You sat in your room trying to figure out who Thor was talking about, you'd never seen him around any other women except you, Nat, and Wanda. It was bothering you about who it was.

You decided it was time to leave your room, you strolled into the kitchen and saw Thor standing there holding a big arrangement of chocolate and regular strawberries, you met his gaze and smiled wide

"Are these for me?" He nodded and handed it over to you "I don't know what to say." He smiled back at you and took a step toward you

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I was hoping you would say yes." You raised an eyebrow.

"To?" His shoulders slumped, and he sighed.

"Y/N, I'm asking you on a date." Then it hit you: The woman he was talking about was you, your eyes widened, and you mentally smacked yourself.

"Oh my god, Thor, I didn't know you were talking about me, of course I'll go on a date with you."

He smiled wide and pulled you into a big hug you giggled and used a free hand to put the strawberries down to hug him back.

"Thank you for the strawberries" He pulled back and looked down at you

"There's more coming, I got you a thousand." You stared up at him in awe, smiling wider than before."

A/N: If you're allergic to strawberries I am so sorry!!! I hope you guys like it, if you want to be tagged in future fics comment here or send me a message. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. 🥰

Main Masterlist - Thor Odinson Masterlist

Taglist: @sleepysongbirdsings @iwudbutnah @miss-marmalade @bettystonewell

[kedreeva]

on the topic of peafowl play, would/do peafowl enjoy those pet puzzle toys? would they have the patience or interest to complete 1 outside of food motivation? i don't know why but i always imagine peafowl as the brilliant but lazy types and i wonder if that headcanon of mine has any plausibility lol

I gave my peafowl one of those chicken treat puzzles (this one) which they are supposed to peck/scratch at and roll around, which drops scratch grain slowly on the ground and gives them something to do until it is empty. It's basically two yellow bowls bungee-corded together by a single cord on the inside, anchored at that little black nub. You fill one half, and then "seal" it as a ball- but it's not clipped together or anything, just bungee tension holds it together.

I set it down for Aris for the first time, and rolled it so she could see it had scratch in it that would fall out. She pecked it once, examined it for roughly 10 seconds, and then grabbed it by the little black nub, and shook the hell out of it, bursting it open and flinging scratch all over the pen. She dropped it and everyone went about their business eating the scratch.

I taught Eris how to press buttons to "speak" to me; she had a few treat buttons, a food button, a water button, and some Word word buttons like "want" and "Eris" and "yes" and "no." She used them to argue with me and make fun of me for forgetting to put water in her wet food one day.

I gave Bug toilet paper rolls with holes cut in them, stuffed with paper towels and superworms. She learned to pull the paper towel out almost immediately. She gets a bowl of fresh foods when she goes into her pen in the mornings, and it started with me walking in and coaxing or carrying her in. Now she goes and waits on the perch where I put the bowl. I give anything leftover she didn't eat to the barn crew, so when I go to collect her in the evening, Polaris and Opal are usually waiting on the table where I put the bowl.

I bring Artemis indoors to do paintings with her, and she knows the order is indoors->bath->dry off->painting+treats, so if I bring her in, and she gets a bath, and I wait too long in the drying off, she will start scolding me until we start painting.

If I let the birds out of their pens, they get free range time while I'm outside. When I call "hup hup!" loudly and repeatedly, they all start walking back to the coops. Many of them know up commands. Artemis and Bug have both learned to put their trains up if I ask (and that's a no-treat trick, they just do it). Beep knew "ask nicely" when she wanted something (which is what led to me training Eris with the buttons), so she would scrape her beak on me if she wanted something. Beep also played with a lot of different toys.

I guess the point is that they are pretty smart birds, given a chance and good circumstances. They can be incredibly stupid, too, but the majority of them are pretty smart most of the time. But they don't have a lot of patience for things that are not either immediately rewarding or that they choose to focus on. Beep once spent an hour trying to get the button off my jeans, but if you offer Bug a mouse and move it away before she can get it, she'll usually just stop caring. If you give a treat to one bird, they might snub it, but they'll kill a man for it if someone else gets it and acts like it's good.

So COULD they become interested in a pet puzzle and possibly solve one? Maybe? It really just depends on what's in it for them, and/or how interested someone else is, and/or if they think it's their idea. They don't really have a lot of grabbing strength in their beaks, so that factors in, too. They do NOT like to peck hard things.

They DO like to destroy stuff though. If you could make an edible tissue box, they would absolutely lose their shit about it. Every peafowl I've ever owned LOVES tearing tissues out of a tissue box and ripping tissues to shreds to try to eat. Don't know what that's about. Leftover raptor instincts to disembowel things, I guess.

[loves4ge]

and then they were roommates james potter x fem!reader idiots to lovers college au

"you're getting kicked out?" lily whispered, shock enveloping her words. you were just as shocked as she was, your grip on on your phone tightening.

"yeah. apparently her boyfriend's moving in or something, i don't know." you rolled your eyes; you had never liked your previous roommate but she did offer the best rent and did her share of chores. though her boyfriend was a douche and you hated having to see him pretty much everyday.

you groaned, slipping farther down in your seat. lily sympathetically patted your back when her phone started buzzing.

"oh it's marlene," lily mentioned, picking up her phone to reply. the two were the grossest couple to be around; you still put up with it though.

"what's she saying?" you laid your head on your arms on the table in front of you, tilted in a way that you could see lily rapidly type something.

"oh lord, you're probably gonna love marlene more than i do at this point - she knows someone who needs a roommate!"

"so you're james potter?" you ask, flashing a smile at the bespectacled boy, his messy brown hair seemed messy in the way that he spent two hours minimum every morning on it.

"yep, pleasure to meet you." he reached out his hand, mirroring your grin. charming.

"the pleasure's all mine." you shook his hand, his grip was warm and firm. and he was handsome. and lean. and tall.

"let me show you around." he guided you inside, showing you the kitchen which was open and connected to the lounge. the two bedrooms were on opposite ends of the house and each had their own bathroom which you were extremely thankful for.

after the (short) tour, you both ended up sitting on the stools around the kitchen island drinking soft drinks from the fridge.

"so, what is it that you do?" you asked, wiping the condensation from the can on your dark jeans. the white tee you wore was sticking to your skin from the heat. you'd have to ask about the air con later.

"i'm doing photography at uni. what about you?" he said, taking another a sip of his cherry-flavored drink. you don't get how he could like something so sweet.

"literature. i met lily in my first class actually." you remember the sparkling redhead who somehow wiggled into your life and never left.

"ah, mckinnon's girl, right?" he asked, as if he vaguely remembered lily from a group hangout.

"yeah." with that you fell into a slightly awkward silence although you both didn't mind the quiet. you could hear the fizz of your drinks, as you both drank. you looked straight ahead, only looking at him through your peripheral vision. he, apparently, didn't know of such etiquette because he rested his head on his arm on the kitchen island, staring at you openly.

you tried to ignore it but now the heat was getting to you and your jeans started to feel uncomfortable. your can of coldness was empty. james was still staring. you zeroed in on one of the fridge magnets even though you couldn't really make out what was it trying to show because of the distance.

"does the air con not work?" you turned your head to look at him. at the sound of your voice, he lifted his head and grinned.

"no, it works." his answer made you feel a little ridiculous. and here you thought you were being considerate, assuming his air con broke or something.

"then why don't you have it on?"

"i don't get hot that easily." this man was getting even more ridiculous. you couldn't help but laugh.

"oh my god. go," you shove him off his stool, "turn it on for me?" you tilt your head, looking at him through your eyelashes in a last-ditch effort to persuade him.

"'m going." you blow a kiss noisily, getting up and grabbing both empty cans and throwing them in the dustbin.

later, you settled into bed. half your things were still packed into flimsy cardboard boxes that lily helped tape to perfection. you were grinning as you pulled out your phone to message lily.

u were right i probably love marlene more than you do rn

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

YOU KNOW WHAT???

TIME TO--

"Brothers' Night!"

Click, click, clack, tap.

The familiar sound of his little brother's typing sounded around the corner as Sonic rounded it and made his way into the lab. Tails was zoned completely into whatever he was working on, his eyes glued onto the screen, not even shifting as he tried to reach for his juice box and swiped at empty air twice before he found it and took a sip.

Stifling an amused grin, Sonic wandered closer and leaned an arm on the fox kit's head. "Whatcha doing?"

"Uh . . . making calculations and preparations for an upgrade on the Tornado's integrated drive generator. I want it to be a bit more durable in case of another crash."

"Ah." Sonic stared blankly at the screen, deciding to pretend he knew what that meant. He nudged Tails's shoulder. "Have you eaten today?"

It took Tails a moment to respond. "Yeah, I had lunch, I think."

"You think?"

"Uh huh." Tails started typing again, then squinted at the screen and zoomed in on something.

Sonic frowned thoughtfully.

"So did you hear what Amy and Cream were up to today?" he asked, trying to test something.

"Uh."

"They went camping out in some canyons last night, and they're out hiking today! Amy said we could join them next time!"

"Yeah."

Sonic grinned and shook his head, then glanced at the clock. It was past their normal dinnertime.

In the blink of an eye, he'd rushed off, readied up the living room with blankets, pillows, and a few small tables, then dashed back, scooped his brother into his arms even as he yelped, "Hey—!" ran back to the living room, and dumped him into the couch cushions.

"What gives?" Tails demanded, shaking his bangs out of his eyes. "I was in the middle of—"

"Nope!" Sonic interrupted, striking a pose atop the coffee table. "Break time, lil bro! Or should I say, brothers' night! Complete with a meal of your choice, storytime, board games, maybe a pillow fight, a sleepover, and no screens for the rest of the night!"

"Wh-What?" Tails stammered, looking somewhere between thrilled and horrified. "But what about the integr—"

"Tomorrow, bud!" Sonic hopped onto the couch next to Tails and dragged him in for a noogie. "You, little man, have spent way too much time working in front of screens today. Do you have any idea how bad that is for your eyes? This is an intervention!"

"I suppose . . ." Tails mumbled, but he was grinning. "We haven't done this in forever."

"Precisely why this is a perfect time to do it!" Sonic flipped off the couch and regained his pose on the table, even as Tails protested that he was going to dirty up his living room with the dirt from his shoes.

And so the evening progressed. Tails convinced Sonic to take his shoes off to spare all the blankets and pillows. Tails chose pasta for dinner, and they had mint ice cream for dessert (at least, Tails did; Sonic just had chocolate, since he was a bit sensitive to mint). They played an infuriating game of Monopoly that lasted two and a half hours. Tails won, and Sonic got his revenge by chucking a throw pillow at his brother's face.

It ended up escalating into a full blown pillow fight.

Somehow that turned into a karaoke battle, which then turned into a comedy show by Sonic with lots of sassy commentary from Tails. They made popcorn and stuffed themselves with far too much junk food, until 3 a.m. hit and they found themselves lying around half-buried in the mass of pillows and blankets, each getting more and more loopy as the conversation spiraled.

"Beef can't get sick," Tails found himself mumbling. "Dead meat doesn't get sick."

"I was talking about the possibility of cows turning into zombies, not contaminated lunch meat," Sonic muttered drowsily in response, breaking into a yawn.

"If the zombie cows die, do people still get turned into zombies if they eat them?" Tails asked, his voice muffled as he spoke into a pillow.

"I thought zombies don't die."

"Well, if someone blows them up in a bomb, they'd probably die."

"They'd be disintegrated. And then no one could eat them."

"Or they'd just turn into fiery zombies."

"I don't like zombies. Can we change the subject?"

"You started it."

"No, I was talking about . . . something else entirely. You just thought I said 'beef.'"

"What were you talking about before?"

". . . I forgot."

Slowly, they both lapsed into silence, until both had drifted off to sleep. They slept in till noon the next day, and even though cleanup took a while (neither of them remembered spilling half the popcorn into the couch), neither had any regrets.

Tails had forgotten just how much he loved Brothers' Night, but he was determined never to forget again. And he couldn't thank his big brother enough for dragging him away from his work to do it.

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

BWAHAHAHAHAHA Y'ALL THOUGHT I WAS DONE FOR THE DAY??? PSYCH!!!

💙💛

I literally just whipped this up on the spot lol. I LOVE DE FLUFF!! Also the late night conversation about zombies and beef was heavily based off a near identical late night conversation I had with some friends at a sleepover a couple weeks ago 😋

Edit: here's the AO3 link

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Villain's Coffee Shop part 5

Warnings: bleeding out, gravely injured Villain, stab wounds, corrupt Superhero

Hero smiled wolfishly, casually propping her feet up on the table with ankles crossed. "Nah, you owe me for the whole 'saving your life' thing. I deserve a free drink."

Villain coughed out a wheezy laugh, then winced at the pain it cost him. "Would now be an appropriate time to question your motives for saving me?" He asked, remembering the conversation from the alley.

Hero tilted her head to one side like an owl studying something intriguing. Something about it put Villain on edge. "Because I'm a hero. It's what we do, we save people."

"Not good enough." Villain shook his head. "Superhero is a hero too, yet he would kill me without remorse. So why did you really help me?"

Hero frowned thoughtfully, mulling it over for a few minutes, and when her answer came it was slow, but honest. "Maybe... maybe I felt that someone like you didn't deserve to die, maybe I thought all you needed is a second chance. Because... maybe you were just unlucky in life, to end up here. Maybe you were dealt a bad hand, maybe something happened that made you cold and bitter. Maybe that's why you became a villain, not because you enjoy hurting people, but because... it's all you've ever known. Stereotypical villain type, a man gone bad due to past trauma, you know?" She quirked an eyebrow quizzically. "Am I wrong to assume that?"

Villain averted his eyes, blood running cold. She wasn't quite right... but she wasn't wrong, either. He raised a weak hand to his face, realizing his mask was gone. Not that it mattered anyway. But it exposed a giant spiderweb of vicious raised scars that covered nearly his whole face, most from serious burns, marring his features. He looked terrifying, like a classic monster.

"...Will you tell me what turned you into a villain if I ask nicely?" Hero teased lightly, but Villain could see the intense curiosity in her eyes.

He chewed his lip, cautious and distrusting. "I guess it's because the world wouldn't accept me as the good guy," he mumbled, half wishing Hero wouldn't hear it. But Hero nodded patiently for him to continue, and Villain swallowed hard.

"I tried to fit in, to be good, and for a while it worked. I was happy, and kind, and charming; a normal guy with big dreams and a great future ahead of him... until my luck and life changed forever." Villain gestured meaningfully to the mass of burn scars stretching across his face. "I was involved in a tragic accident, and now no one sees beyond my face. They see these scars and it terrifies them, but what they don't know is that I got them running into a burning building to save a little girl." Villain's voice hitched, and he tried to squash down the wave of emotions rising in him as he vividly relived the moment that forever changed him. He forced himself to keep talking, though his voice was shaky.

"I was brave like a hero -- I ran straight into fire, and both literally and metaphorically got burned for it. I saved a life, but mine ended that day. I spent weeks in the hospital, but when I was discharged... everything was different. No one wanted to hire me. They were all too scared of how I looked, because I was intimidating to customers. Bad for business." Villain's lip curled angrily. "I really did try to be good, but I was rejected at every turn, no one would give me a chance to show my worth. All I wanted, all I needed, was one opportunity. But eventually I found it was more beneficial to me to become a criminal instead, to take what I wanted and hurt anyone who got in the way. And now here I am." He gestured dramatically to his whole broken body laying on the couch.

Hero's face filled with newfound understanding and sympathy, before confusion replaced it. "But... you run the entire coffee shop, and you've never worn a mask when serving customers. How did none of us see your scars?"

"Several hours of my morning every day dedicated to using facial molding makeup to hide all the damage. Like the stuff they use in movies to hide imperfections or change a face's shape." Villain smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "The stuff's expensive to buy, but I use a portion of the money I steal to cover the cost."

Hero leaned back in her chair, taking it all in. "Wow... you've really got it rough, huh?"

"Now you know why I spent my days fighting people like you," Villain snorted bitterly. "It's the only way I can make enough to stay off the streets and survive. By stealing and killing."

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@federthenotsogreat @everynameistakencarrots

[helianskies]

they've been on my mind recently, soooo...

Honey

Tolys twirls a pen around his fingers with absent-minded skill, leaning back in his chair and staring blankly at the screen in front of him.

It’s the last day of work before the holidays begin, and he hasn’t quite woken up enough to be here. He didn’t sleep that well and ended up leaving home in a hurry, so skipped the morning coffee (but not the traffic, Christ alive!), and his mind is still trying to catch up with him.

Granted, he’s only been on the clock for three minutes. He thinks that’s forgivable. Actually, management should consider themselves lucky he’s in, unlike about a third of the rest of his team, supposedly ill! From that alone, Tolys knows he's in for extra fun today.

A hefty sigh slips through parted lips. The pen stops spinning and is set down. Tolys sits up a little and seizes his mouse.

Time to get a grip, and get to work.

Or at least it is, until the door to his small team's office swings open and a familiar face—the only other face that'll appear today, in fact, while two other colleagues work from home—swans on in. 

Tolys bites back another sigh and returns to his monitor.

“Morgen!” greets the ever-beaming, ever-loud, ever-chatty Gilbert.

“You're late,” a far less enthusiastic Tolys points out.

“By four minutes,” Gilbert replies indifferently, “and technically, I'm not late at all. In fact, I'm early today; I arrived over half an hour ago and spent some time clearing emails before the day began,” he rattles on, a persistent creature, “but then I decided I would go out and get some coffee, knowing that we're a little understaffed. Speaking of which—”

Footsteps pad towards him and a takeaway cup is placed down on his desk. He stares at it, puzzled, and then looks back at Gilbert with a question in his eyes.

“Thought you might want some caffeine,” the other offers up by way of an explanation.

“Thanks…?”

In an instant, Gilbert's face drops, as does the confident act reserved for those who know him less.

“Don't sound too excited, eh? You might make someone jealous.”

Tolys tuts. Oh good, he's back. “Just didn't expect it,” he responds. “You're not usually the type for heart-warming gestures.”

“Is that a back-handed compliment I hear?”

“Why? Gone deaf all of a sudden?”

A soft snort of laughter escapes Gilbert, who is used to the banter that only they share. It's their kind of working relationship if… that's what you want to call it.

Gilbert and Tolys joined the company at the same time. They've learned the ropes and climb the rungs virtually hand-in-hand, and over the past two years, have gained a friendship that Tolys, at least, can't compare to any other he has. Gilbert rolls with the punches, he gets Tolys’ humour, he's not bad company when he wants to be.

Sure, he can be a pain in the neck. But he's a million miles better than Christoph, that's for sure!

His coffee, he discovers when he pops off the lid, appears just the way he likes it: dark as the night, no milk, no sugar. 

Well, no sugar, until Gilbert’s hand reappears on his desk and leaves behind a small tub of—

“Honey. Nice.”

Tolys is impressed. Maybe even a little surprised.

“Just for you, old man,” Gilbert says, flashing him a smile before he wombles around to his desk and sets down his own drink. “Begged and pleaded for that.”

“On your knees, I hope.”

“You wish.”

All the while he takes the pot in hand and begins to carefully peel away the film on top. Little does Gilbert know (or perhaps he does—perhaps he sensed it) how much he needs this drink. The honey is the icing on the cake!

As he pours the sweet gloop into his cup, Tolys masks a smile that might boost the other’s ego too much too early in the day, and peers over his computer at him.

“You pay attention to some funny details, you know.”

“Glad you called them ‘funny’ and spared me the trouble,” the other returned, trite. “Honey in coffee is as bizarre as it gets. But I suppose you are going senile, so…”

Old man jokes aside, the coffee is good. Like, it is actual, decent coffee. It makes up for his rushed morning, and makes Tolys feel like this final day before the holidays might be okay. It might just be an okay day.

Yet, just as he prepares himself to settle down and get back on track with work, feeling revitalised and more enthused, something else appears on his desk. A hat trick! But, this time, it’s not coffee nor a small tub of honey. Rather, what is pushed from Gilbert’s desk under monitors and past cables over to Tolys’ desk is a… present. A present wrapped up in festive holly-adorned paper.

Tolys stares as Gilbert’s hand slowly, not-very-slyly retreats. Then he stares at the alien object on his desk.

“What’s this for?” he asks after a long pause. 

“Easter,” Gilbert replies from behind his computer. 

“No, seriously,” Tolys says slowly. This is not something he wants to joke about, so he leans around his own monitor to seek the other out. “Why have you put this on my desk?”

Gilbert’s face emerges. It bears a quizzical look. “Because it’s for you,” he responds as though it’s a stupid question. “Merry Christmas…?”

A pit opens up in Tolys’ stomach.

“But… But I didn’t get you anything…”

“Do you need to?” Gilbert queries, just as curiously. 

“It’s rude not to.”

“‘Tis the season of giving, not receiving. Don’t worry about it—really.”

Normally, quick wit would have him respond with a snappy ‘didn’t take you for a giver in the first place’, but Tolys can’t bring himself to speak. He stares at the holly-wrapped item and wonders, first and foremost, what has possessed Gilbert to buy him a present (on top of the coffee!)?

No, no, no. This won’t do. He can’t just not buy Gilbert something. He would have to get Gilbert a gift, too—but it’s also the last day of work, and he isn’t sure when he’s next going to see him, so now he’s really in a pickle! Dammit, Gilbert! Christoph suddenly seems like a saint!

“You gonna get that, or…?”

A huff escapes him, and Tolys realises that the phone on his desk is ringing. Blood pumping and mind racing, he curses under his breath and picks it up.

Little attention is really paid to what the person on the other end of the line begins to say. All he can think about is what may be hiding beneath the wrapping paper, and whether or not he ought to try and get something during his lunch break for Gilbert in return. Some beer, some chocolate… Maybe a book…? 

Regardless of the pressure he’s feeling, Tolys has to remind himself of an obvious, simple thing: Gilbert got him a gift.That feels big. That feels like something important. That feels like a change in their relationship—and a change he wants to get to the bottom of. Just as soon as this call is over!

[ winter prompts here! ] [ ficlet collection on ao3! ]

[passionatefanficgirl]

What the Top Gun guys would be like in the kitchen

My first headcanons! I decided to keep the x reader bit out for now, but I might put some Top Gun guys x reader headcanons up later. These were really fun to write, so I hope you enjoy!

(Let me know if you want me to write a fic with these in!)

Warnings: Mention of fires, possibly a bit OOC for Goose and young Mav

Maverick

If it's young Mav, he'll be pretty bad at cooking

I mean, he can probably heat up a tin of soup or some baked beans (do they have those in America?), but don't trust him with anything else

I can imagine him and Goose trying to bake something (think basic cake mix), and next thing you know, the fire brigade's at the door

If it's older Mav, he'll able to cook some basic things, stuff like pasta, scrambled eggs, and so on

If he does attempt baking, though, it won't be very good

Maybe it's not quite bad enough to cause a fire, but he'll probably have mixed the ingredients wrong or something, or he'll forget to grease the baking tin

Tbh it doesn't taste bad, but it probably has a weird texture or something, and will most definitely not be aesthetically pleasing

But he's so pleased with himself that he's managed to bake something without setting the kitchen on fire that nobody really wants to burst his bubble

Goose

Is a TERRIBLE cook

He would find a way to literally burn a salad

Carole had to ban him and Mav from the kitchen

Like, she loves him, but she doesn't love having to call the fire brigade every single time Goose and Mav decide to try cooking (again)

Goose thinks it's hilarious whenever he and Mav mess up - until Carole makes him and Mav scrub all the charred food out of the pans (and buy her some new ones)

She arranges to go to McDonald's with Bradley if she knows Mav and Goose are cooking that night

They'd try to teach Bradley, but Carole's not having any of it

"Hey, Bradley, want to find out how you can-" "NICK!"

Bob

I feel like Bob would probably be the best cook out of them all

But it's like a hidden talent

It's probably Phoenix who finds out

Bob is not happy at first

For one thing, he's now got to bring all the food to every. single. party

But once Phoenix manages to persuade him and makes the other guys pay for the ingredients, he'll do it

And he loves it when people compliment his food, although it makes him blush a lot

But he won't let Mav, Hangman, or any of the other bad cooks near his kitchen

He probably uses a different pan for everything (think omelette pan, milk pan, etc.)

He's probably really, really cautious about getting burned

Like if he's frying something, he will probably wear full-on oven gloves

And if he does get burned, even just a little bit, he will hold it under cold water for at least half an hour before wrapping his hand firmly in ice, and continuing to cook

That's probably why he hates being distracted while cooking

He also hates when people mess with his cooking, even if it's just giving something a little stir

Or adding some spices into a sauce he spent ages getting just right

That's one of the few times when he gets really angry

People messing up his system will turn him into a rage monster

This guy has a system for everything in the kitchen, and if you mess with it, even once, out you go

Once Hangman made the plate stack top-heavy while drying the dishes, and now he's not allowed near the cupboards

Then he messed up Bob's pans, and Bob kicked him out of the kitchen

But it's just because he loves cooking so much, and he wants everything to be perfect

And it's all worth it in the end, because his food is really delicious

Hangman

I feel like he's a barbecue guy

Like, this guy loves barbecues

In any type of weather

He would probably get the barbecue out in the middle of winter if Rooster hadn't locked it in the shed (and thrown away hidden the key)

He's also good at frying stuff (even though he drives Bob crazy by using the omelette pan to fry everything (Bob was about ready to throw a rolling pin at his head the last time that happened))

When he's not got the barbecue out, he'll fry literally anything in sight

Literally anything

He also likes deep-fried stuff (but will just get the fast food anyway because he's too lazy to set everything up)

But anything else?

NO.

Do not even let him near the tinned stuff, or you will come back to find the smoke alarm blaring, and a charred, blackened mess (probably in Bob's favourite non-stick pan)

He's also pretty bad at baking (about young Mav level)

Bob despairs of ever getting him to stop messing up the pans, so he simply won't allow Jake into the kitchens anymore

So Jake has to sneak in, make his food, and sneak out again

But Bob always catches him, mostly because Jake's cooking always smells very strongly of barbecue sauce

Rooster's already chased him out several times

Rooster

I think he'd be a pretty decent cook, better than Mav, but maybe not on Bob's level

He probably learned it from his mum

And fortunately, by the time he was old enough to learn, Mav was already banned from the kitchen

He can do most things - fry, heat up tinned stuff, etc.

He's a pretty decent baker, too

Obviously he's not on Bob's level, like I said, but he's good enough that Bob will allow him into the kitchen

He respects Bob's ordered kitchen (and secretly wishes he was that organised)

He'll stand guard outside the kitchen (with a rolling pin) whenever Bob is cooking, and doesn't want to be disturbed

He's chased Hangman out a couple of times (and probably Mav some of the other bad cooks, too)

As always, I do not give permission for anyone to copy my work, post it elsewhere, etc.

[3gremlins]

i started another rook and i really didn't intend to make them so "i want that twink obliterated" but uh my hand slipped XD

this is björn ingellvar* (they/he, but sadly the game doesn't let you use mixed pronouns so i just use they/them in game) which just means bear and i realize they're not terribly bear like in appearance, but i think i'll rp it in personality more (ill be honest i liked the sound of it mostly and it had a meaning i can work with). Ingellvar was hard to pair with (i did consider making them a grey warden but i didn't vibe with thorne just yet and the mournwatch aspirational armor is kinda neat) Anyway they're a mourn watch warrior and so far a little more diplomatic/charismatic than my crow rogue rook. I had sort of thought to either romance bellara or emmerich this time round, but now i'm considering neve (trying to make myself make different choices! still an elf but eh). it's weird b/c when i started my other rook i didn't like any of the voices other than erika ishii's for them and this time i gravitated to one of the masc ones instead. so funny how characters shape themselves a bit, it's like oh this came together this way and now this voice is the one that is right. *various DA reddit threads suggested that nevarra is partially prussian inspired which does track with emmerich being an old german name. I spent several hours pouring through old german names which do also have a lot of cross pollination with various scandinavian names on several name etymology websites. Technically the german variant would be bjoern but whatever.

early thoughts on warrior: it feels a lot more underpowered than rogue from the outset. The weapon type swapping is a lot more awkward- rogue just uses r2 on controller to swap between knives and bow which feels really natural and fluid (and how a lot of other modern rpgs work, so you expect it). The war/mage use the d-pad to swap and it's just not as good of a feel (tho it is an interesting choice? the warrior swaps between sword & board and two handed, and mage swaps between staff and knife w/orb). i was def a bit like oh am i screwed, do i not get a ranged attack? but you sort of do (i think it would have been fine if war had arrows but i can see why they wanted to make it different) I like the idea of the captain america shield throw, but having to charge it up feels kind of bad (esp coming from the rogue where you just shoot your bow until you run out of arrows). Would have been better to have the shield throw just do something like that. (started towards the mourn watch tree and the shield throw is feeling better but wish it was better out of the gate you know?)

blocking is also a lot more important to the war kit and i'm bad at it (didn't really need to do it on rogue, just dodge quickly a lot) so we'll see if i can even stick to this. i don't want to block things except with my head, game. warrior also doesn't feel especially tanky per se, idk. doing this one on adventurer mode again but might turn it down (tbh rogue felt so op at the end there, i prob could have turned up the difficulty and been okay. maybe another future rogue rook if i'm ever feeling like a challenge ). i'm intrigued by the specializations (esp reaper i think) and i do think it'll get more fun as i unlock more skillz, but out of the gate a little clunky (i also started a mage rook and they also feel a bit weak compared to rogue. might like war more than mage for once??).

>>>> 2nd pt endgame knowledge spoilers behind cut!!! do not click if you haven't finished the game at least once! <<<<

playing this a second time and knowing everything you can actually spot the Varric CLUES early. There's a point where you're talking to solas in that first fade convo and he actually cuts himself off from saying that varric is dead, like you get the TINIEST hint of the "de" before solas elongates it into it a "is good at his own half truths".

also in conversations with harding her palpable sadness hits harder and her dialogue makes a lot more sense. When neve comes into the recovery room to talk to you the first time (i think it's whoever was injured?), she doesn't even look at varric and talks over him a teeny bit too. It's really subtle, they did a good job of laying clues you wouldn't catch unless you knew (at least for me, idk maybe yall were onto them sooner lol)

[katyspersonal]

God, not to be one of those "hateful anons" but you really need to drop the "holier than thou" type thing on all of your lore posts. As much as I'd love to debunk why half your arguements are overused and don't work, I'll save that because that's not my point.

On almost all of your lore posts you mention at least once how "people aren't ready for stories of this level" or some shit along those lines, and let me ask you this: Why do you think people like you can digest these stories better? You would probably answer something like "Because I can understand these stories unlike these stupid from haters" or something.

You aren't digesting these stories better then anyone else just because you spend 1000 hours looking into what Morgott's moldy toe item description mentions. Like seriously, all this complaining about why the fandom sucks yet youre just like all those "holier than thou" people in the fandom who keep mentioning how THEIR perspective is better then someone else's.

You also keep acting like personal interpretation doesn't exist on some note. Saying how [X] is actually what happened and that people are denying [X].

I looked into your blog because I thought some of your posts were interesting, but it turns out youre literally just like all the other fromsoftware fans you complain so much about. Hopefully this gives you some perspective, I guess.

Nah, it "didn't give me the perspective", because you are the one seriously misunderstanding here. I say that we as a fandom are not ready for Fromsoft stories SPECIFICALLY to criticize fandom behavior.

We as a fandom are not ready for Fromsoft stories because there are people who claim that "Miquella's character was assassinated by bad writing because in the base game he was hyped up to be kind and compassionate", when his arc was a fall from grace. How falling from grace equals writing him to never have had that grace to begin with? We as a fandom are not ready for Fromsoft stories because whenever Fromsoft does not directly state something, fandom splits into two hostile groups each accusing another of media illiteracy or even various -isms and -phobias. (I advice you to ask Gehrman fans from Bloodborne fandom for extra insight on this one) We as a fandom are not ready for Fromsoft stories because when they DO state something directly, the "cool kids" of the fandom decide it was either a bad writing or that they know better, and start to side-eye everyone who prefers canon over their """improved""" fanon. We as a fandom are not ready for Fromsoft stories because Miyazaki's brand of moral ambiguity, admission that there is no clear solution to world's problems and questioning the nature of humanity itself OFTEN falls on the deaf ears.

Like... you do realize that I still consider myself part of the fandom, despite not engaging beyond what is on my feed? That I do not claim that /I/ am ready for Miyazaki's writer genius? Just like everyone else, I can only do my best to TRY to understand him! Nonetheless, I am trying my best to be mature, and encourage maturity in others. It is hard to remain always calm and nice in a fandom that feels like a battlefield, everyone will get a bit rude! The point is to TRY to be better, which most people don't see the need for! I am calling out fandoms bad behavior and refusal to look deeper into story and characters than their habits and preferences, especially because these preferences often lead to conflicts and toxicity, not claiming moral superiority over my headcanons!

Personal interpretations are fair. What is NOT fair is when someone harps on a very well-researched post with easily debunked arguements, basically doing the "your post is nonsense because in my fanfic things are different" on them, and then another person that did not even read the post nor actually researched the lore beyond their preferences passionately agrees.

I'll have you know that I never spent "1000 hours on analyzing". I am autistic, you goddamn coward. I understand some obscure detail in a flash by just looking, or suddenly come up with an insight while busy at work. Sometimes I literally dream a theory or observation! I do not understand where the misconception that everyone needs to spend a lot of time to be hyper-observant about their special interest comes from. However, you believing that about me makes your claim even worse. You seriously just said that analysis of someone who.... well, analysed the lore, is not as valid as analysis of someone who just took scraps of lore they personally enjoyed to create their own thing. How does this make sense, exactly? Again: you'd have SOME point if you spoke against a stuck-up Reddittuber who makes it their daily mission to ruin someone's joy if their headcanon is not 100% accurate to the source, however, so far the inverse has been happening. People who decided something about lore just because it appealed to THEM will go and be rude to people who are trying to be objective. Not only this; I've had my headcanons (!) "corrected" multiple times because they were different from popular fanon!

.........speaking of certain people who think it is okay to harp on someone's lore post to downplay it when they are not even lorediggers themselves.... -_-

The way you glazed through my blog and jumped into an extremely inaccurate conclusion about my personality and attitude reminded me of the same impulsivity when someone took "stop treating Marika as noble hero against Hornsent evil, here are bad things that happened during her reign" as as "just another poorly researched Marika hate 🥺". 🙃 Your obvious vitriol for thorough lore research, your poorly disguised manipulation (you clearly did not think my posts were "interesting" with how much disdain you just expressed FOR them, but you wanted to wound me by faking "disappointment"), and above all, timing. My tone in yesterday's Marika and the fandom rant was in no, NO way different from how I usually speak in my blog! My mutuals (all 8 of them lol) can confirm! Yet I've never received (inaccurate) anon hate for this.. until now. Until recent very unfortunate encounter with extremely shallow individuals that started a debate yet refused to finish it when hypocrisy of the both was pointed out. 🌛

I think I know who you are. :/ 🤔 I'll keep that in mind, and being "prepared" will definitely lessen the effect if you try anything of the sort again, be sure of this.

(At the same time, IF I am wrong and you are just a fan that found me through that interaction, I'll have you know that your lowly cowardice by using anon instead of showing your face has put someone else under suspicion, and it will remain so unless you show yourself. In which case, hope you are proud of yourself. 🤦‍♂️)

[lizzyscribbles]

Today's MHA ramble is either gonna be great or ineligible and there will be no in-between. I'm on my computer instead of my phone today so I can type so much faster, but, I am slightly dehydrated and out of it because I just spent like eight hours outside in the sun for a renaissance fair so maybe I'll just pass out half way through, who knows.

Lizzy's MHA thought/ramble of the night: MHA and why I think it does the "power of friendship" trope the correct way (IE: Not cringy/weird).

Now, I honestly think trying to wrap up the intricacies of the end of MHA in just "the power of friendship!!" is doing the series a huge disservice, but in its simplest form, that kind of is what happens. To be honest, I'm such a sucker for this trope. I love it when we get to see all the people the MC (Izuku in this case) has made an impact on over the course of the series and they all come together to back the main character, that is thee shit and I will eat it up.

However, the thing I love about MHA's approach to this is something we see explored a lot through the series: the idea that you don't have to go at it alone. Like, I feel like the ending has so much more of an impact because instead of them all the other characters standing behind him and going "Yay!! You can do it!! Good job!!" No, instead they run beside him and say "rest, we'll clear you a path. We know we can't do this for you, but at least let us do this".

Because that's what a friend is. That's what friendship is. It's realizing that not only is a friend someone you want to protect, but it's someone who protects you.

It gives me chills Every. Damn. Time.

It's through that we get to see the impact Izuku has made on everyone in the series. I joke with people that even when Izuku has nothing to do with something that's happening, he has something to do with it, and that really comes to a head in the final chapters. In a sort of ironic way, it's what ends up defeating All for One, because it's literally the only thing he never managed to get. Deku says as much while they're fighting, that deep down All for One really is just a lonely man. He had power, people to do his bidding and hang on his every word, but the top of the world is a very isolating place to be because there's no one who can look you in the eye. Followers and friends are two different things, a friend is an equal, a follower is a pawn.

I think it's why All for One was so attached to his younger brother Yoichi, because deep down, he knew All for One in ways that no one ever could. It was the closest to a genuine loving relationship he ever got.

Honestly, it's part of why All Might failed the first time around too. He had a few friends, sure, but in the end he was surrounded by mostly fans. People who adored and appreciated him, but did so from behind a barricade. All Might pretty much worked alone - and Deku definitely couldn't have made the progress he made without the trail All Might blazed - but Deku had the one thing All Might never did: People who fought alongside him even when he didn't want them to.

And, honestly? I can't blame All Might for avoiding it. After all, Deku almost does this same thing. They both wanted to protect people so badly they don't want to accept help. They see themselves as the only person who's allowed to make sacrifices because they're so scared they'll loose someone. It's part of the reason I find such comfort in Izuku as a character, because he never wants to see anyone else hurt because of him.

However, because Deku reached out first in the beginning, because he made friends and took care of them whenever he could, because treated them as equals, they said "too bad so sad, you get our help whether you like it or not, because that's what you'd do for us". It's the beauty of those final episodes of season six and why I love them so much, because 1-A had no reason to go after Deku other than they were worried about him. They didn't take no for an answer, because sometimes it's a friend's job to take you by the hand and scream in your face to "TAKE A NAP!!! EAT SOME FOOD!! YOU'RE WEARING YOURSELF DOWN AND YOU NEED A BREAK!!! SIT DOWN AND LET US CARRY YOU FOR A WHILE!!!"

It's exactly like Ochaco says, they don't want to be protected. They're not fragile victims to be looked after. They didn't get blindly wrapped up in this mess, they dove in head first because they cared about Izuku and wanted to stand at his side.

And therein lies the difference.

All for One had followers.

All Might had fans.

Deku had friends.

Followers will only do as they're told. Fans will only cheer on. But friends? You can't tell them to do shit, they do what they want, and if they want to help you then they will. Friends go the extra mile. Friends run beside you when no one else can. Friends clear the path for you so you can deliver that final big ass punch.

That's the magic of this trope, and you can see it so clearly here because it's realistic. And by that I mean Izuku doesn't get a magical burst of energy because everyone was cheering his name from the sidelines. It came from them actually doing shit to give him a chance. It came from Aizawa bandaging his wounds, it came from Iida grabbing his hand and half-dragging him across the battle field, it came from Eri giving a little bit of her quirk, it came from Bakugo showing up at the last second to blast the crap out of someone, it came from the countless attacks launched by the rest of the heroes to give him a chance to get back on his feet.

You know what they say, actions speak louder than words, and that's the magic of this kind of storytelling. We don't need to be told they care through chants or claps, they just show us.

That's the true "power of friendship". People who don't just stand beside you, but sometimes run in front of you so you don't trip over that stump in the path.

That's friendship. That's love. And I think that's incredibly beautiful.

...these posts get longer every time. Maybe I need to stick to my phone so my thumbs get tired faster. 😂 This is what happens when I'm allowed to cook late at night. If you made it to the end, thank you and I salute you.