#if I had a nickel for every time a god wanted to keep him as a pet

[ki1ldeer]

Hits Finn with the sad beam because I’m STRESSED (organic chemistry you know how it is)

[boiohboii]

Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)

Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic

When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life

or

in which we finally get to see the roles reversed

N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it

masterlist

Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others

itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!

Comments on this post have been disabled.

Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others

F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.

username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH

username: yn doing God's work

username: yn serving justice

username: that's what we needed

username: hot girl shit

username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her

username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles

username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?

username: another one

Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others

itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy

username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?

username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song

itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚

username: and I oop-

username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!

Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others

itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️

username: FINALLY!!

username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose

username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️

itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.

Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others

F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.

username: good for her

username: charles is so lucky

username: I love how she always stands up for him

username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.

username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.

username: this shit was so heartbreaking man

username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim

username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it

username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒

[lanawinterscigarettes]

what if i asked for a joe goldberg x fem reader (kinktober) against the wall sex?? and praise?? it feels so awkward requesting this— is it okay 😭 dom reader maybe??

it's absolutely okay! I know that sometimes requesting smut can feel a little weird, but you're perfectly fine so don't worry <3 thanks for the request!

Kinktober 2024 Day 19: Joe Goldberg x fem reader against the wall sex and praise kink

Warnings: smut/nsfw content, sex against a wall, penetrative sex (p in v, please make sure to use a condom irl), praise kink, partially clothed sex, sub Joe, dom reader, the reader's a massive tease/Joe has a slight humiliation kink, brief hair pulling, hickeys mentioned, the reader is implied to be as obsessive and crazy as Joe is

The pictures hanging on the nearby wall shook as Joe slammed you against it, his mouth meeting yours in a flurry of teeth and tongue. Even after being together for all this time, it was still hard for him to keep his hands off you.

"You look so gorgeous today," he breathed out, his voice sounding a little raspy when he spoke. His eyes roamed over your body, his hands planted firmly on your hips as he held you trapped between him and the wall behind you.

You couldn't help but think about just how pathetic he looked, especially when he got so desperate for you- which happened so frequently it was hard to keep track of. If you had a nickel for every time he pounced on you the second you got home for the day, neither of you would need to work for the rest of your lives because you'd be filthy rich.

"You flatter me," were the words you purred back in response, your arms wrapped around his neck to ensure he stayed as close to you as possible, not that he planned on pulling away anytime soon. "Maybe you should take a look into the mirror sometime, then you'd see that you're not so bad yourself."

He practically whined at your lighthearted teasing, hiding his face in the side of your neck as he hands clutched onto your hips even tighter. He could feel his already hard cock straining against the fabric of his jeans.

Luckily for him, your pants had already been discarded long before this point, so all he had to do was pull your underwear to the side if he wanted to slip in. But first things first, he needed to take a deep breath, otherwise he'd bust the second he was inside.

The sound of you chuckling is what broke him free from his thoughts. "You're so cute when you try acting like you're not as affected as you really are," you cooed in a tone that was mostly affectionate and only slightly condescending.

Regardless of whether you were mocking him or not, it still turned him on to hear you say that. Any of the blood that wasn't causing his face to flush had already rushed further downwards, making him impossibly harder. He needed you, and he needed you now.

With one hand still pinning your hips to the wall, the other moved down to unzip his pants, pushing both them and his boxers down far enough to be able to pull his cock out. He was already panting by this point, and if you didn't know any better you'd have thought the sounds you were hearing was a pug trying to breathe after taking a walk on a hot summer day.

"Easy, baby. I'm not going anywhere." The teasing comments coming from you certainly didn't help matters.

The hand that wasn't still on your hips wrapped around his aching cock, pumping it a few times before he reluctantly let go and pulled your underwear to the side, slowly but surely slipping in. A noise that was something between a whimper and a groan left his lips as he felt you clench around him, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.

"I'm surprised you've been able to last this long. Usually you'd had finished before you were even inside," you mused in a slightly breathless voice, not having lost the certain air of cockiness about you that you always gained whenever the two of you had sex.

He whined loudly in response, his hips forcfully bucking up into yours, pushing him in deeper. God, you were always such a tease. It drove him crazy in the best possible way.

"I- I didn't want to leave you hanging," he muttered as he started to thrust at a relatively quick pace, one that had your nails digging into his back through his shirt as your own back arched up off the wall behind you.

You bit your lip while moving your face in a little closer to his, speaking next to his ear in a low and sultry tone. "How thoughtful of you. You're always so considerate, huh? Always so good for me."

He felt his knees buckle at your whispered words, his legs almost giving out. The impact you had over him was tremendous, and you were well aware of it.

"S- Stop." He hid his face in the side of your neck again, hoping you hadn't been able to catch a glimpse of how red his face had become. He let out a soft grunt when he felt your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer and pushing him deeper within you, the tip of his cock brushing against your sensitive velvety walls.

"I don't think you're in any position to be making demands right now." Your hands moved up his back, one of them finding its way to the nape of his neck as you laced your fingers through his dark, curly hair.

Before he could protest, your fingers tightened their grip and tugged his head back, pulling his face away from your neck. His eyes were wide with a mixture of arousal and humiliation, though the first one was clearly winning out of the two.

"Now, behave."

The stern tone of your voice was enough to snap him out of whatever sort of flustered, somewhat bratty mood he was in. "Y- Yes, ma'am," he breathed out quietly, desperate to please you.

The strict gaze in your eyes softened as you loosened your grip on his hair, gently running your fingers through it instead of gripping onto it tightly like you had before. "That's it, good boy."

Joe could feel his cock twitch as a jolt of pleasure ran through him at your praised, but he held off on finishing, wanting to make you feel good first. He kissed you in a way that was much more tender than earlier, his hands holding onto your hips with affection rather than possession.

As much as you enjoyed it when he allowed his lust to take control of him and guide his actions, you had to admit you liked it when he mellowed out even more. He was much more agreeable that way.

"Good boy, good boy, that's it," you spoke out loving words of praise as his mouth went from your lips to your neck, carefully marking up the area as he purposely rolled his hips against yours. You needed him the same way he needed you, even if you'd never say it out loud. The two of you completed each other in the best (and worst) ways possible.

After all, who else would be able to love him as unconditionally as you did? No one, that's who. You shuddered to think about the woman after you who might try to take your place.

There wouldn't be a woman after you, there couldn't be. You refused to even toy with the notion. It was you and him, forever. And you'd rather die than allow someone else to take your place.

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[rin-solo]

Is it just me, or should we maybe talk about Poseidon's final line to Odysseus, "After everything you've done, how will you sleep at night?" some more?

Thank you to my lovely mutual @glisten-inthedark for making me think even more about the Vengeance saga ending than I already was because there is SO much there to unpack.

Because, like, if you think about that line for more than 2 seconds ... what the hell even is that? Only a complete 180 turn from his "You are far too nice; mercy has a price" attitude.

First and foremost, it feels like such a human thing to say, not least because of his tone. I don't think it is mockery or anything of the sort; it took me a while to notice, not least because he is speaking in a chopped voice due to his injuries, but he actually has the same genuine tone of voice as in his "I can't," one song earlier.

In short, it feels like something someone would say after being shown a glimpse of mortal vulnerabilities and pains, the way that I am convinced he was (for more on that, check out my full torture scene essay; I believe it's one of my best ones.)

Like, my man, are you genuinely asking the guy you specifically tried to make more ruthless how he's going to live with this newfound ruthlessness? What are you so concerned for? That it's too much? Why would you think that? Maybe ... because you've been there yourself? Is that it?

The funniest part to me here is that Odysseus is not nearly as "monstrous" as Poseidon would view him as. Poseidon only sees the "monstrous" actions, which he knows ... but Odysseus, at that point, is so much more than ruthlessness (more on that also in my essay.)

And yet here he is, essentially asking Odysseus, "How will you live in my shoes?" because that's the image that he now has of Odysseus; when he saw Odysseus wield the trident, he saw him in his own shoes, and due to personal limitations, Poseidon cannot comprehend that Odysseus isn't actually committing to a life with his philosophy because he probably doesn't understand that there is a middle way.

Honestly, the more I think about the effects such an exposure to vulnerability would have on Poseidon, the more I worry for him.

Some people point out that this defeat may have ultimately been pointless because the moment Poseidon recovers, he could just immediately come after Odysseus and drown his island or whatever he wants ... He won't do that. I can't tell you why I know this, but I am like 100% sure that he won't.

Physically, he will recover. But emotionally/mentally? My man is f*cked ... and that's putting it lightly. He will feel the effects of this exposure excruciatingly for a long, long time ... Because, in order to fully recover from this, I wager he would have to actually process what happened there and reflect on his own actions in the way that Athena did ... which we all know he won't do.

Athena managed to use Odysseus' confronting her with her own flaw/fear to reflect and grow, which is why she had that beautiful character arc and learned to open her heart. Poseidon? I mean, maybe in a couple centuries, I don't know ...

... If I had a nickel for every time that Odysseus out-topped humbled a god to the point of being forced to confront their own vulnerability, I would have two nickels, which isn't a lot, but it's weird AWESOME that it happened twice. Keep slaying, king; they need it.

[7ndipity]

Dating headcanons pt.2

Namjoon x Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! We’ve got a double dose of Joon for y’all today! As usual, these are just all over the place and more crack-ish than pt.1, but I hope you like 'em!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Therapist bf. Anytime you need to talk about anything, he’s there asap, whether in person or over video call, letting you vent or ask for advice.

Write lyrics about literally everything(even things that maybe he shouldn’t have).

“Did you really make a whole song about me saving you from choking on a pizza crust?”

“I felt that it was a pivotal moment in our relationship!”

Sends you questionable photos? And not in the fun sense of like spicy/risque pics, I mean that they’re just random pictures of his feet.

“Guess where I am rn?” “The corner of Bitchless and Single St. if you don’t stop sending me these.”

(seriously tho, if I had a nickel for every time he’s posted a feet pic, I could actually afford merch, smh😖)

Similar to Yoongi, I think he keeps little mementos from your relationship, like ticket stubs or a random leaf you found that you thought was pretty.

Has this little habit of tucking his face against your neck whenever he hugs or holds you. Finds your scent very comforting(would probably swipe one of you hoodies or smth when he has travel)

Tried to learn how to cook for/with you… It did not go well.(there were a lot of band-aids, just order takeout, pls)

I feel like he likes to act as if he’s not into some of the romantic ‘cliches’, but you’ve heard his songs, man’s as hopelessly soft as the rest of us.

Surprise him with any variant of the candles and rose petals vibe, and he’s a goner.

I would be ignoring the obvious if I didn’t mention his fucking dangerous mouth. Can go from whispering the sweetest nothings in your ear to the filthiest ideas he can think of just to rile you up and watch your face heat up.

Likes to play the ‘tell me what you need, baby’ card and make you tell him exactly what you want from him as well(He does this in both domestic and intimate moments). He lives for hearing that you want him as much as he wants you.

Has slipped up on more than one occasion and called you his spouse(lowkey thanks god that you weren’t with him when it happened, cause he knows you would tease him to death)

Likes to show off his strength now and then by picking you up/carrying you/just generally manhandling you(carefully!)

He actually tries super hard to be careful and gentle with you. He can't stand the thought of accidentally hurting you🥺

[impala-dreamer]

Captive Audience

A Story from The Boys Universe

~Y/N gets invited to a party but fails to realize that she's the favor...~

Soldier Boy (Ben) x F!Reader

1,700 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Sex and Drug Use. 18+ ONLY

A/N: Written for @jacklesversebingo . "Lick it and find out." Please show some love and reblog. Reblogs are important!

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Green. Green. Green. Everything about him reminded her of a forest. A deep, dark, mist-covered wood that should have scared her, but managed to ensnare her every single time.

Dark green eyes like the leaves; body solid and long like a tree trunk.

Looming over the table, he cast a shadow across her nakedness, blocking the light and noise from the party raging beyond the swinging kitchen door. It was loud, obnoxiously so, flooding the big house with new wave rock and roll and the unmistakable sounds of ecstasy cresting.

But none of that mattered.

There was nothing in her eyes but him, nothing on her mind but the delicious nervousness of wondering what he’d do to her next.

Ben had tied her up good, wrapping prickly kitchen twine tight around her wrists and forcing them above her head. They dangled off the end of the wooden slab and he had attached the rope ends to the closest table leg, keeping her stuck there in place. Her arms ached already, but she was happy to be on display for him.

Blunt nails dragged up her bare legs and dipped between her thighs. He pulled away with a grin.

“Nice an’ juicy. I like that.”

His voice was slow and certain, not a hint of flirtation lingering in his tone. He didn’t need to charm her anymore, she was already right where he wanted her and there was truly no escape.

Not that she’d try anyhow.

The table was cold but warming to her body heat more and more every moment. Her top was warming as well, both from his hands and his gaze. His eyes were like laser beams working their way up and over every curve of her form, and she wondered if x-ray vision wasn’t one of his powers. Patience surely wasn’t one, as he reached for her tits, callously closing his big hands around each globe and kneading almost too roughly. She hissed at the touch and moaned when his thumbs grazed over her nipples.

“Fuck…”

She whimpered. He grinned.

“Oh, you’re gonna be a blast, arentcha?”

Pleasure sparked through her system as his nails dug like pinpricks into the dusky shadow around her nipples and she chewed her bottom lip. Her eyes fluttered when he twisted; her breath caught when he tugged.

“K-keep going and find out, soldier,” she teased, hoping to earn another hard twist.

He obliged and her back arched off the table.

“God!”

Ben chuckled under his breath. “If I had a nickel for every time a broad called me that, I’d be… well, I’m already rich, so...”

Y/N shivered when he pulled back. “Rich, handsome, kind of a jerk- what else you got?”

Amused by her flirtatious bite, he stood back and dug into his pocket.

“Got some party favors,” he replied, pulling out a small baggie full of white powder.

“Thanks…” Y/N licked her lips. “I’d love some.”

He laughed and sucked his teeth. “Oh, this ain’t for you, dollface.” The plastic tickled her stomach, but he warned her through gritted teeth to hold still.

She held her breath too, just for good measure, and closed her eyes as Ben drew a line of cocaine down the center of her.

“This is new,” she whispered.

“It’s fuckin’ hot is what it is,” he corrected.

His breath was like steam on her flesh, the thick shadow on his cheeks beautifully distracting.

He bent over her and pressed his nose to her chest, breathing in the drugs and her scent from tit to clit.

Ben stood up with a jolt and wiped at the powder on his nose.

“Fuckin’ hell, that’s good shit!” He shook himself and his pupils dilated, eclipsing the green. The surge invigorated him and Ben dropped down again, this time running his tongue down the length of her, following the pale trail the coke had left behind.

Her moan was loud and needy.

“Delicious.” He hummed against her soft skin; tongue lingering at the peak of her cunt. “Does your cunt taste as good?”

Vibrant eyes flashed upwards and Y/N melted, spreading her legs for him.

“Why don’t you lick it and find out?”

He cocked an eyebrow and then grabbed at her, strong fingers peeling her thighs apart even further. The skin burned under his touch, bruises readied themselves to spring up once the pressure was gone.

Y/N sucked in a heavy anticipatory breath as he exhaled against her folds. She was soaked already, throbbing just imagining the feeling of his lips on her cunt.

She didn’t have to imagine for long.

Ben kissed her clit.

She gasped.

He dragged his tongue down her slit.

She whimpered.

He jabbed two thick fingers into her.

She nearly screamed.

“Don’t be shy,” he urged, curling his digits deep inside. “Ain’t a real party if no one can hear you having fun.”

Y/N’s arms twisted against the ropes, desperate to drop a hand to his head and tug on the gorgeous tawny locks. “I’ll be sure to keep that in- holy fuck!”

Mid-sentence, Ben jerked forward with his mouth and bounced his tongue against her clit, sending sparks through her system. He licked fast and hard, almost to the point of hurting her, but he held back just enough to make it worth every ache.

Right at the brink, he pulled away. He gazed down with a smirk on his plump, ruddy lips and laughed.

“You seem stressed…”

Y/N thrashed on the hard table, denied and pitiful. “Frustrated is more like it.”

He winked.

The bastard winked at her, knowing full well how close she’d been and how bad she wanted it.

With a seeming snap of his fingers, he was naked next to her, clothing tossed haphazardly onto the floor by the door. His shoulders were huge, arms like thick branches, chest hard and twitching with every movement. His cock already hard and hanging down on his left thigh. Y/N’s eyes shot to it instantly and Ben puckered his lips, enjoying her lustful stare.

He wiped her juices from his face and rubbed them on his cock before stroking slowly. “You like that?”

She nodded. “Mmm, I do.”

His fist bobbed over the tip. “How much? Tell me.”

Y/N wriggled, stuck and hungry for him. “Love it so much. Fuck, your cock is so perfect. I need it…”

“Yeah?” He picked up speed; his upper lip twitched.

“Please… I need your cock so fucking bad.”

Teeth bared, he breathed deeply; chest heaving and biceps flexing as he jerked off in front of her. He put on a show; stepping up on his toes and arching his back as he thrust into his hand. He was crazed and wild-eyed; preening like a porn star. He always loved a captive audience.

Y/N was near to drooling; every bit of her wet and desperate for him. She squirmed and pouted, begging with everything she had.

“Please, fuck me, Ben. Please!”

“You need it bad, don’t you, doll?”

Y/N rolled her hips against the air. “Please!”

Ben licked his lips and looked her over. “So many choices…” Finally, he moved to the head of the table and pressed his legs against the edge. His cock dangled aside her face and he looked down, face glazed with authority and thirst. “Open up.”

Her jaw dropped immediately and her tongue shot out, reaching for his swollen head.

Instead of a gentle slide inside, Y/N earned a hard slap against her cheek. His cock was solid and smooth. The hit stung. She winced and it came again, another quick hit, this time against her lips. Y/N pushed her tongue out as far as she could and Ben rubbed his cock over it, tapping a few times before jabbing into her mouth.

He hit the back of her throat and Y/N swallowed down a retching gag.

He was big and unrelenting.

“Fuck, you take my cock so good… Knew you would. Fuck!”

Her neck was twisted, throat full and struggling. Her breath was quick and her body shivered. Every thrust rolled her eyes deep’ every pull back left with a tight pop of her cheeks.

Ben was vibrating, fucking her throat deep and hard. He sneered as she sucked; head tossed back and eyes glazed.

“So fucking good!”

When he could feel it surge, he jerked away from her mouth and climbed onto the table, straddling her hips. She tugged at the ropes, wiggled beneath him, but there was no release for her in either way.

Bending close, he squeezed her tits, thumbed at her nipples again. Y/N moaned loudly, screamed when he bit down hard on her right tit. His teeth dented the flesh, nearly breaking the skin. He licked it clean and sat back, fisting his cock once more.

“You want this?” he asked, jaw set tight, eyes narrowed on her lips and the longing in her eyes.

“Yes, please!” She gasped, body aching badly.

He sat back, crushing her thighs. “You want all this? You want my cum?”

Unconsciously, her mouth hung open again. “Please!”

His lip trembled, his wrist quickened.

He came with a roar that echoed in her bones.

“Fuck!” Ben doubled over and sprayed her stomach with his hot cum. He rocked into his fist again, shooting another quick load that landed on her chest.

He grinned and took a beat, breathing deeply, laughing with satisfaction.

“You…” He wagged a finger at her. “You’re a fantastic piece of ass.”

He was gone before she could reply, hopping down from the table and scooping up his clothing from the floor.

She watched him dress, lying helplessly on the table, still bound and painted in his cum.

“But…”

Y/N whimpered and he spun around, seemingly remembering she was there.

“Oh, yeah…”

Ben came close and pressed his lips to her ear. She held her breath, waiting for a kiss that never came. He exhaled against her throat and left her with a few words that sizzled in her brain, forever rattling around and reminding her that he was not one to take home to mama.

“Thanks for the fun.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@akshi8278 @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @the-wounded-healer05  

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 167 spoilers and thoughts in the middle of me trying to get through midterms but it's okay because in this ep everythings starting to look up and IM SO HAPPY ABOUT IT

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GENUINELY THEIR EXPRESSIONS IN THIS EPISODE I LOVED SO SO SO MUCH both the goofy ones and the serious ones im so AAAAH MY HEART HAHAHAHAA ALSO ALICIA IS SO SO SOOO PRETTY AND COOL LOOK AT HER LOOK AT HERRR

all the shots of her in this ep r so so good,,,, clock his ass, your majesty,,,,, to save the world,,,,,,,,,

ALL THE SILLY EXPRESSIONS MADE ME SMILE SO SO WIDE they're so bug-eyed . i see where lloyd gets the creature from /lh

we dont see these expressions very much compared to the other ones so im very happy about this HAHA it's silly cute i am absolutely using these as reaction images

JAVIER DIDNT SAY MUCH IN THIS EP BUT HIS PANELS ARE FUCKING GOLDEN TOO HIS FUCKING SHRUG AS IF HE DOESNT KNOW WHEN HE ABSOLUTELY KNOWS WHATS GOING ON HERE ALKDFJLSDJKFHSDFHAHAHAHAHAHA

i love lloyd hes hilarious but javier how does it feel being the funniest person in the room at all times . he didnt even say anything in this ep i love him sm . goofy ass "i dunno ¯\_(ツ)_/¯" HAHAHAHAHA

also i really like this panel in particular. feels like an unintentional callback to dragon king's chef where michael does the same thing LMFAO

ALSO THIS PART WHERE ARCOS AND MARBELLA ASK THE QUEEN TO PUNISH THEM INSTEAD OF LLOYD IM. EATING MY FIST. how even though they're completely aware that he's not really their son they wanted to protect him anyway, AND THEN IN TURN LLOYD IS WILLING TO OUT THE TRUTH JUST TO PROTECT THEM??? IMMEDIATELY??? JUST LIKE THAT??? HELLO??? HELLO???

THIS GOD DAMN FAMILY IS FULL OF MARTYRS. GET ME OUT OF HERE

if i had a nickel for every time i got attached to a media with themes of martyrdom as a method of protection. id have two nickels. which isn't a lot. but it is amusing that it's happened twice. staring at tmnt

in this moment lloyd does not even care what risks might come with him stating outright that he's not actually lloyd but it doesnt matter all that boy is thinking about is protecting the people that he cares about, protecting the people that care about him,,,, eating my arm . HE KEEPS DOING THAT. HE KEEPS DOING THAT HE KEEPS PUTTING EVERYTHING ON THE LINE FOR THE PEOPLE HE LOVES

EVEN ALICIA FUCKING POINTS IT OUT, IN THIS PANEL SHE SAYS SMTH LIKE "when theres something u need to do, u go to the limits for it" or something like that i actually dont know which translations are correct but either way i interpret that as like. whenever lloyd has something he wants to protect he'll go above and beyond for it, no matter the cost. that cost more often than not is his own safety im gonna beat him up.

like buddy its happened enough times that her highness is CLOCKING U ON IT. BUDDY. BUD sob emoji loud wailing

i also really like this panel in general its just super cute heehee look at them . sillies. i dont typically ship characters and i dont typically multiship but alilloyd seems very sweet and i hope we get more of them talking and opening up

also i really wanna add these two panels because they made me giggle so fucking bad. lloyd u silly motherfucker LMAO "huh" HAHAHAHA

live footage of me looking at the work i still have left to do that i have not even started and its due within two days. god i fucking love the sillies so much

OOHHH ANNND MY FAVORITE PANEL OF THIS EPISODE

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH LLOYD REALIZING HE'S NOT ALONE AND THAT HE HAS SUPPORT IS MY FAVORITE FUCKING THING EVER!!!! YESSS YES YES YES YESSS IM SO FUCKING HAPPY GOD FUCK

u have friends and family behind u . ur not alone anymore algjkdlsaghhadfjasd UR NOT ALONE LLOYD U HAVE PEOPLE BEHIND U TO CATCH U WHEN U FALL YAYYYYY YAYAYAYY even the system is there IM SO HAPPY

i like the way he phrased his realization too, because yeah the more time went on the more he thought "i have to find the solution" cause he's been leading these projects for so long now, it's kind of just how he's been operating even back in korea, bc he spent so much time on his own. and here in lorasia he's the one with powers, he's the one leading the charge, so he has to take responsibility... but him realizing now that its not "i" but "we" makes me so so so incredibly happy,,,, ur not on ur own anymore u have people u can trust and they trust u back, regardless of whatever title or skill effect u have, ur not a single person leading, ur a team working together,,,, U GOT FAMILY AGAIN,,,,,,,, ghhhh,,,, WAAAAHHHH

when i hit this panel i started kicking my fucking legs around im so serious the joy i felt was PALPABLE

so incredibly happy to see his determined face make a comeback, like fully this time, so so happy!!!!

and these panels as he's leaving,,,, him being worried abt them still (and ofc he is, bc when he lost his parents as suho he was also going off and away to study), but he also trusts that theyll be alright,,, i think idk if im interpreting this right but thats how i see it

i really like how the artist drew these panels, the lineart on the side of the setting sun being lighter/softer i really like how this looks!!!! this feels new this feels so full of hope and im SO HAPPYYYY

also bisexual lighting. i know what you are. imagine that pointing forward at the viewer emoji i dont have it on my emoji keyboard bc my phone is old

i want to mention too that alicia calls the count and countess mother/father-in-law. i dont have much to say on that i am just JAWDROP EMOJI at that LMFAOO

and there he is,,,

his stupid fucking plotting evil face . it's back . WELCOME BACK LLOYD,,, BACK TO THE SHENANIGANS,,,, WE ARE NOW ON STEP THREE OF FOUR FOR PROFIT!!! THE ?????? SECTION!!!! what the fuck is he planning

okay thats all for this week thanks for stopping by :3 sorry there wasnt much insight here my main TLDR is YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE basically

[anotheroceanid]

Hi! I love your fic so much but I'm too shy to interact 🫣 But the other day this thought hit me out of nowhere and I had to share it!

The story is already going to have more than enough angst (please have mercy–) but do you know what would make it even more angsty?

More time in-between

Imagine if (In chapter 3) instead of being kind of accepting, Gaia took one look at Luke and decided that she can't take more risks with his upbringing? What if instead she guilt trips Percy into thinking it was her fault Hector and Milo are gone, that her naive way of raising them with no hatred is what got them killed?

You want to keep Luke safe, right? Your mother knows best, I'll help you raise him the right way this time...

And Percy, who has been questioning if she is a good mother for a long time, can't help but be devastated thinking the gods have offed her kids; but Gaia can help her keep Luke safe!

So Gaia just hides them somewhere else for more time until Luke is older, properly trained and his head filled with hatred for the gods through Gaia's manipulation and Percy' grief. Now he knows how awful the gods are and the price for it was his brother's lives.

(I don't think Luke would listen to Gaia but he would listen to his mother, who is being manipulated–)

(Meanwhile the gods in the background: Oh no! Not another blond kid with a scar trying to bring us down with the help of an old family member 😨)

❥︎ OnceMika

Don’t be shyyyy 🫶🫶🫶 (jk, do whatever makes you comfortable, I’m shy too lol)

Yeah… the angst is coming but I promise we’ll have a lot to say “owwwwn 🥹🥹🥹” too!! The heartwarming moments will come!!!!

In this scenario, Gaea would be like: “okay, I got this”, but she definitely doesn’t! As you said, Luke would trust his mother but never Gaea. As Percy mental health decreased more and more, he’d start making questions (and the right questions).

I don’t doubt he’d grown to hate the gods, but he’d hardly see Gaea as any different from the Olympians. And the thing about Luke is that he’s much more cunning than people give him credit for, and because of this they think they can manipulate him.

In any case, Luke striking fear on gods’ hearts is so real of him 😂😂😂

Olympians: if we had a nickel for every time a blonde scarred kid named Luke hated us…

[alastair-1205]

Episode 18 reactions

Oh my fucking god he fucking dead

Damn he’s like fucked up fucked up

I do kinda love how Geo’s just been around with the ninja tho. That’s been nice

Lloyd: fucking in a coma Me: haha gay ppl

SORAS OUT FOR BLOOD LMAO 

Valid tho

Stfu Z 

Arin is gonna stab someone calling it now

Wyld is shocked at the audacity of this bitch lmao

SHES GONNA SHANK A BITCH LMAO

Yea taking her powers was smart lmao good fro you Robie

Damn deja vu lol. She must hate being dragged away like that again

THE HUSBANDS BE SHARING LOOKS

She’s got a crush and Arin has suspisions. I still don’t think it’s him tho

ARIN REALLY DOESNT LIKE SORA RN MAN

I respect her mindset tbh like fuck yea prove ur man inst evil

That wasn’t what ur parents meant Arin. Arin no-

LMAO I FUCKING LOVE WYLDFYRE. Seeing her and Arin interact is so fun 

Sora v Frack!

They’ve gotta have more than 4 elements by now stop lying to me show 

Hey she remembered Jordy’s name!!

YOU MAY BE CLOSER TO TO THE TRUTH THAN YOU THINK THERE SORA. STOP JINXING SHIT

Badass fight is badass

DONT DO IT FRACK LISTEN TO ARIN 

FUCK YEA GET IT

Oh Ras is gonna murder a teenager

You good Sora??

JOIN THE NINJA FRACK :(((((

I love himmmmmm he just wanted to learnnnnn

OMG THEYRE NERDS

Jordy knows she’ll be able to solve it that’s so cool yes I love that

Ha the 5 don’t know math L

AWWWWWW

They like each other this is fucking precious

Ooh that was a cool transition

Maybe it was Bleckt. Or Ras. He’s still a viable option for me.

What game is this?? I wanna play it lol

AW THE NICKNAME

This is adorable I like them together 

He’s so sneaky! The sneakiest!

THE FUCKING YOGA BALL HELP

They don’t tolerate each others bullshit I love it

Damn. You know what yea fair enough that tracks 

SEE IT WAS RAS

Rip Lloyd. Hi Geo. Theme of this episode

Props to Arin for putting his anger aside for the mission 

MORE VISIONS

I think destiny keeps kicking him out so he can talk to the dragons tbh

SEE YEA IT WAS BASICALLY A SLASH TO THE CHEST 

They could have given him bandages at least to show it 

If I had a nickel for every time Lloyd woke up like this 

But damn those stakes are upped now

That man is not doing good-

HOW MANY GHOSTS ARE THERE WHAT

LMAO COLE I love him so much

Killer jellyfish?

SORAS SO HAPPY

Lowkey that’s her fucking dad 

God he can never catch a break. Let Lloyd rest 2024 christ 

He’s fought worse odds. I believe

I take it back. Don’t let Lloyd rest. Cuz now Sora’s gotta get her ass beat 

I love Robie’s delivery here lol. But yea Lloyd must look like hell warmed over 

Lloyd would have won. I believe 

FUCK YEA COLE GET UR MOMS MECH 

Oh I really don’t trust someone else having Lloyds powers tbh 

Like that feels like a really bad idea 

YEA GET IT SORA BELIEVE IN YOURSELF

2/2 on biology saving the day 

Speaking of are Kai and Bonzel ok??

NEW LILY SCREENSHOT WE FUCKING WIN THIS SEASON EVERYONE GO HOME

Also Cole has a cool outfit 

This is totally cheating but I’m ok with that 

THE MUSIC

MotM music is my favorite in the whole show man it goes so hard every time 

OH ALL THE GHOSTS ARE WU

BUT ALSO HOLY SHIT FINALLY WU. 

We got Wu before Pixal :(

[apomaro-mellow]

Dimension Hopping Part 5

If I had a nickel for every time I wrote Eddie kidnapping Steve and his parents didn't care, I'd have two nickels.

Eddie adjusted his long brown coat as he looked up to the sky. He could see the trails above of the rails like they were a cage. People touted the Transplanetary Railway like a sign of progress. And it certainly was for the fat cats able to line their pockets with stock money.

"All aboard! All passengers bound for Portales Station, the Sonoran Rings, and Mars via Flagstaff!"

Eddie boarded the train, tipping his hat down to keep a low profile in the car with the other working class passengers until the conductor got the vessel going. He gripped the arm of his seat as he felt the initial lurch of launch but soon stars were passing by with the smoothness of Mercurian butter.

He checked his watch. It was just about the time for his crew to be ready. Eddie got up and moved to one of the fancier cars. He definitely looked out of place to anyone who looked. Thankfully, rich people tended not to notice his kind until they needed something. Eddie looked for a certain face. One he had memorized while planning this heist. It was different from all the others. He and his gang were used to sneaking aboard, asking for all their jewels and coins and then going ghost.

This time it was more personal.

He didn't see who he was looking for at first, but just as he was going to move to the next car, in he came, drink in his hand, with a leisured look on his face. Perfect.

Eddie took his bandana out of his pocket and tied it to his face. Then came right up to the young man, not giving him time to react as he got behind, put an arm around his waist and held a gun to the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen! May I have your attention please?" He knocked a man's wrist with his gun wielding hand, knocking a glass to the floor to get the car quiet. "No, your eyes are not deceiving you. It is I, Back Alley Al Munson. Now I'm gonna make off with your lil prince here and I'd like y'all to let us go quietly. All I want is to hold court with his daddy. So someone make sure the Harringtons get a telegraph asap."

Eddie grinned beneath his face covering when he felt the man in his arms try to struggle. He put a firm hand on his lower belly. The prissy upper crust weren't much in a physical fight but still, he didn't want to bruise that pretty face.

"Settle down, sweetheart. We'll get you back to your manor soon. Just follow my lead."

Eddie nudged him forward with his hips, forcing him to start walking. His target, none other than Steve "the heir" Harrington, looked to all the other passengers in disbelief.

"Is no one going to stop him!? For god's sakes, someone help me!"

Eddie chuckled and took him to the emergency exit door. "Allow me to provide assistance." He jammed his fist on the button, opening up the car to the vacuum of space. Everyone's emergency seatbelts activated as they screamed bloody murder. Steve screamed too when he was suddenly sucked out into space. Eddie went easily right after him, grabbing for Steve as they floated. Eddie counted the seconds.

1...

2...

3-

He let out an exhale as something warm washed over them, pulling them in a new direction. The weightlessness of space was replaced by a solid feeling under them. Steve pushed him off and Eddie let him. He took off his bandana and beamed.

"Told you it would work!"

"Eddie you son of a bitch!"

Steve watched as a trio of men came to them and hugged his kidnapper deep.

"Eddie? I thought you were Al Munson? Isn't he the leader of the Corroded Coffin gang?"

Eddie smirked. "My old man's name is good for something. Helps people take you more seriously if they think you're the scourge of the West Quadrant and not just his scrappy son. Jeffy my man, you did awesome with that tractor beam hat trick."

"Just don't make me do it again", Jeff wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Next time, let's splurge for the helmets."

"What do you all want from me?", Steve said as he stood and took in his surroundings. It looked like he was in the cargo hold of a shipping vessel. A very, very small one. There were crates everywhere, both open and sealed shut.

"Nothing you can give us", Eddie said. "But your pa is kickin' up dirt where he shouldn't. There's way too much land in the Harrington name and now he wants our town."

"Your town?"

"A little place on Earth. Maybe you know it? You stuffed shirts hightailed it out of there the moment you terraformed Mars though." And other places after that. Earth was considered the backwater town of their solar system. Hand been for decades.

"Why would my family be interested in Earth?", Steve asked.

"Hell if we know. We just want him to step off", one of Eddie's members, with a mop of curly hair said.

"You're wasting your time", Steve protested as they started to haul him off somewhere. He got to see more of the ship. It looked like it had been around for a long time. He was taken to a room and thrown inside. Steve had never been in a place with four walls this close together. All the room really had was what looked like an operating table coming out of the wall. Steve felt the thing cushion and realized it was probably supposed to be a bed. He let out a sigh and sat on it.

He had to think of a way out of here.

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

"What do you think he meant by that?", Jeff asked.

The gang was sitting in the bridge. Eddie had taken his coat off and was simply in a shirt and dusty jeans. He was twirling his hat around. "Gareth, Grant? Care to weigh in on Jeff's question?"

The other two were playing cards. "I think he meant by Harrington saying we're wasting our time", Grant said.

Eddie thought about it. Steve "the heir" Harrington. Known as such because his father, Silas Harrington, had significant ownership holdings on several planets, their moons, and even the space stations surrounding them. He had also started diversifying and investing stock in the railways. All that meant was that when he was gone, Steve stood to inherit the universe. The wealth of the Harringtons rivaled that of the last remaining monarchies. Taking their precious son had to put a fire in their belly.

But Steve saying it was a waste of time rubbed him the wrong way. He got up and went to the mess to whip up something for them all to eat. He opened up a sealed pack of jerky, tossed some frozen biscuits to the reactor and boiled up some mashed potato powder. He plated it up and served his hard working crew, then thought about Steve. He was drinking when Steve had taken him, so he'd probably eaten already. And going a day or two without food wouldn't kill him.

Against his will, Eddie thought about the days he'd been hungry. When his dad went off on a score, leaving him alone with the barest of essentials. With a huff, he carried a plate to Steve.

"Hope you're decent", Eddie said. He used a free hand to open the door, prepared with a knife in his back pocket in case his captive got brave.

To his surprise, Steve was lounging on the cot. Eddie felt a bit too close to a servant delivering a meal to a passenger, not a hostage. He tried to ignore the curve of Steve's hip.

"Food, for his majesty", Eddie said, putting on an exaggerated voice.

Steve scrunched up his nose as he looked at it and Eddie felt a little satisfaction and giving this spoiled man a bit of ruffage he wasn't used to.

"It probably doesn't compare to the feasts you have in your ivory tower, princess." He held it out to Steve, who sat up to take it in his lap.

"Not a princess. And no, we don't really eat this where I come from." He picked up the jerky. "Is this food or building material?"

"Both. It builds character", Eddie grinned. "Where are you from anyway?"

"Venus", Steve answered before taking a bite of the jerky, struggling with it a bit.

Eddie whistled. Venus, known for its floating cities and beautiful people. Figures Steve would be from there. "I bet you've never even touched real earth." If Eddie's mother, rest her soul, was to be believed, then her sweet baby Theodore had been born right in the wheat fields. As close to the earth as you could get.

He and Steve couldn't be any more different. He put his hands on his hips, watching Steve chew on the jerky for a moment more before going towards the door.

"Well, you'll get plenty of chances to get well acquainted with all of mankind's roots. We should be home in a few hours."

Part 7

Tag Team

@goodolefashionedloverboi @xjessicafaithx @newtstabber @am-i-obssed-probably

[cabyang]

moral archives fanfic i wrote for fun lol

@maxphilippa here

I should've known. It was so obvious, it should've occured to me earlier.

The way I smiled every time he smiled, the way I laughed when he laughed, the way I followed when he took the lead, the way he followed when I took the lead.

But I was oblivious to my love, and therefore his. I waved off every feeling I had as a side product of our friendship, no matter how head over heels I was.

It was only then, when he gave me the immunity milk, that I truly understood.

The way my face reddened with love, like it had many times before, although quickly undercut by the sour taste of the long since spoiled milk. The way he looked into my eyes, with a beautiful smile on his face I had always admired. It finally clicked. I was in love.

I asked him if he was sure, I mean it was his after all. If he wanted it, I would've given it right back. But he reassured me, making sure I took his gift. I looked at him with love struck eyes, and I looked at him back all the same.

My honey covered feelings made drinking the spoiled milk slightly less bad, although I was struggling to keep it down. Every chance it got, my brain wondered back to how Yinyang looked at me in that moment. My heart raced just thinking about it.

As Mephone read the votes, my mind kept coming back to the same subject. Everytime I smiled anew, like it had just happened again. My heart pitter pattered the same sped up rhythm as it did when he gave me the milk, refusing to slow down.

"Yinyang. Two votes Nickel, Two votes Yinyang."

I looked at my one and only ally with worry in my eyes. We did have the numbers to out vote Silver and Nickel, but I didn't know if anybody had made any sudden switches with Blueberry rejoining. He looked at me back seemingly even more worried. My stomach twisted itself a few more knots at the sight of his worried expression.

"Yinyang. Two votes Nickel. Three votes Yinyang."

Oh God. If everything went as planned, then we would at least force a tie. But my heart pounded in worry and I tried my absolute best to take deep breaths discreetly, which didn't help at all. I gripped the immunity milk with all my might, as if I could change the course of fate if I had a strong enough grip on the milk jug.

"And the final vote is..."

I awaited the news with baited breath.

"Yinyang! You are our fifteenth eliminated contestant."

My heart sank all the way to the sandy beach below my wheels. How could this have happened? Yinyang thought *I* was on the chopping block, that's why he gave me the immunity milk, plus we had three members in our alliance, it should've been a tie.

"Now that we know the jury decides the winner, Yinyang is just too big of a threat."

Well. I can't blame him. It is competition. People will do anything it takes to win. But my heart still ached. After everything he had done for me... eliminated. Just like that.

I quickly got over the betrayal as I refocused on something else. The fact I *loved* Yinyang. My heart shattered once again, as I struggled to not only speak but also keep my tears at bay.

"Oh, I'm so sorry your selfless sacrifice was for all for nothing."

I managed to choke out, sensing my sadness Yinyang quickly reassured me. At first I instinctively smiled at his happiness over his personal victory, but then I was painfully reminded that he'd be going away. My face twisted itself, trying to both smile and frown at the same time. It looked weird.

"Hit me as hard as you can!"

Still so excited, even whilst being eliminated. I was reminded again why I loved him. But then he was sent away all the way to Indefinite Island. Then it hit me. How could this have happened? I tried to focus on the positives, how happy he sounded about their personal victory, the smile on his face as he playfully asked Mephone to hit him. But I couldn't.

It hurt. I yearned for whom I just learned I needed, and what I just learned I couldn't contact until either I won, or eliminated. I kept my tears at bay by focusing on the silver lining, but that was all the silver lining did. Keep me from tears. I still ached for Yinyang, hoping that I had found out about my love just a second earlier, just so I could tell him I loved him the same way he loved me.

But I couldn't. I was too late. I had found out at the most inconvenient of times, and now I was to face the side effects. I rolled along the beach in the opposite direction from anyone, mourning my new found loss. I rummaged through my files, searching for any way to contact him. The only way that didn't have a success rate in the negatives was writing a message in a bottle and sending it into the ocean. It had a success rate of exactly 0.01%.

I was again reminded of still bleeding wound of my love, stabbed as soon as it was discovered. I stopped at a certain point, remembering where I was. This was the same spot Yinyang and I built that sand castle, in the down time between episodes 13 and 14. Tears welled up in my eyes about as fast as I could wipe them away.

I pulled out Yinyangs file, and my eyes quickly darting to the small image of him I taped to the side. I had taken in the morning after episode 12, the angle was slightly slanted and it was a little shaky as I kept laughing at the funny face he made towards the camera, though I did end up with a better picture later. I thought this was more fitting. A smile slowly returned to my face like the sun lazily setting over the island.

File in one hand, I used my other hand to find my red pen, searching through the neatly organized manilla folders and printer papers. Once I had found it, I got to work on his file. Slowly but surely, I drew little hearts around the image, I couldn't quite get them fully symmetrical, but I thought that was fitting.

I smiled as I put the file back into the Y section, and looked off into the sunset. It still hurt, but it was comforting that even though he wasn't here, he did love me back. I wonder if he knew I love him too, and if he was comforted by that. I knew one thing was for certain though, I was going to see him again, and that was enough to carry me through the rest of my time on the game.

[rhaenizziettie]

Legacies 1x04 Rewatch:

Just seeing all the comic book decor in MG's room makes me so sad that we never got to see him and Landon geek out together

The amount of (lame) TVD cameos in S1 was wild considering they did not keep that energy up

If I had a nickel for every time the Salvatore School made a fake exchange program with Mystic Falls High over a murder, I'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

"Who are you and what did you do with Hope Mikaelson?" Just you wait ...

The blatant use of TVD scenes for the exterior shots of MFHS and they couldn't even match the green filter of Legacies

Lizdon best friendism!!!

"Try not to deliberately alienate the entire student body." "I tried to be her friend when I was five and when I was nine and when I was thirteen." "I'm sorry we couldn't see why you were hurting back then." SCREAMING.

"Would you like to be the Robin to my Batwoman?" "Batwoman doesn't have a Robin." "Metaphor." FOR LESBIANISM.

"I'm working on offensive spells." Maybe we should've known she was blood thirsty from the start

Rosie and Finsie both have a breakfast scene BUT NOT JANDON OR POSIE. WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?

No because how did Josie have Raf so wrapped around her finger and still manage to come up with a fake sob story about Lizzie winning him

Baby Handon, my beloveds

Hope 🤝 Lizzie 🤝 Accusing MG of failing at compulsion

Lizzie being so grossed out by MG's unrelenting advances and him STILL not getting the message. Oh I hate what this rewatch is doing to my best boy.

"Dana is dead." Oh no ... what are we gonna do ...

"I expect you to be with Hope when I do" hits so much harder knowing about 4x06

"You are a horrible liar." "I suck at lying." Okay Lizzie I see you

We were robbed of Cheerleader!Hope, even in an AU

I still need someone to edit "They're a gift from Cheryl" into a Hope Mikaelson x Cheryl Blossom edit

"Relax, Eeyore." Hope, your Lizzie is popping out.

"I don't even like any of you" but we all know who she's best friends with in the Human AU

Jed truly was terrible in the beginning. Like who is that? I don't know him. Bully!Jed isn't real unless you believe in him.

"I'm a feminist." You're a liar is what you are actually.

I really do miss S3 actual feminist MG. Bring him back to me already.

The casual Dana E.D. jokes were ... certainly a choice for a 2019 show ...

The Kaleb x Landon dynamic deserved more

"Years of practice with Lizzie" and we never once get to see it. Like??

"You're dead if you don't submit." I'm sorry but like has a werewolf student ever actually been murdered for not joining the pack? I feel like we would've heard about that.

"It's Sasha." Was Sasha even at the flag football game? How do they know her?

BASES IT OFF OF GREEK LORE. OH THE GREEK GODS SET UP WAS THERE. IT WAS THERE.

"My money's on your boyfriend." "He's not my boyfriend." She just wanted to hear you say it, sweetie.

"Whatever spun this is gonna come back and eat us." We couldn't be that lucky. Imagine how much better the series would have been.

I still ship Connor x Josie. I don't care.

Landon rushing in to save Josie. Oh Jandon serves whether you want to admit it or not.

The S1 Core 6 did not get enough scenes together

THE MOMENT IT ALL CHANGED FOR LIZZIE. OH GOD OH GOD. HOLD ON TIGHT.

THINGS ARE SHIFTING.

"I'm a twin. I don't do anything solo." You just spent the entire episode without Lizzie because being a hero is too much pressure??? You spent the whole last episode apart from her too???? It's only the fourth episode?????

It's almost laughable how much Josie lies. Like every other word out of her mouth is straight up false and she knows it.

Still think Jed x Rafael should have had a thing.

I miss this Handon angst. THIS. THIS IS THE GOOD STUFF. Not the circular conflict they got stuck in later.

"Being a hero is not more important than being safe." This is your suicidal daughter, my dude. She does not care about being safe.

"She thinks she's too good to give you the time of day." Actually it's

"Don't disrespect her like that. We got enough monsters out here as it is. We cannot become one of them." MG YOU DIDN'T DIE THE HERO. YOU LIVED LONG ENOUGH TO BECOME THE VILLAIN. GOD DAMN IT.

Wait a minute. Josie was stuck in a spider web, almost dying, and Landon saved the day instead of Penelope Park making an appearance? Penelope would have never.

"If you threaten my kids, Sheriff, I'll be the one coming for you." No, maybe I get it. Maybe I do still get the attraction.

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "Planes, Trains, and Oddmobiles" Episode Followup, Part 1

Can you believe it took them 10 years to make this punny title? I can't either! But it's here now, and I'm all for it.

This time it's "Planes, Trains, and Oddmobiles", oh my! Let's send another prayer for a good episode below the break.

Now you know my mind is warped when I look at this and my first thought is "weird graveyard with three tombstones".

*low groan that ekes into a mournful glass-shattering scream*

I don't think I need to elaborate on how this episode will go.

O...kay. I don't think we've ever had any staff credit on the right of the episode before, and I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe it's because the beakers are in-frame on the left, but...they're not relevant, so...

these were abandoned eggs

mama wants them back

Either the Huggle Monster has some incredibly corrupted child-rearing habits, or this was purely accidental.

I know for a damn fact they will not elaborate, so theorize away, folks.

If I had a nickel for every Scientist who was proficient in sewing as a way to defy gender norms, I'd have two nickels.

Which isn't a lot, but it's fuck-all insane that it's happened twice now.

Guy's fittin' t' blow a lung if he keeps doin' that.

They tell him to hurry with the tone of "we're gonna get shat on" but without the urgency of "OH FUCK SHE'S GONNA EAT US".

See, but the funny thing is that they are in a desolate area with three rocks that look like tombstones and y'know if I try hard enough they might be symbo-

Remember when entering the tubes had simple rules? Like "don't eat while riding" and "turn off all your electronics"?

Yeah, Omar's giving a "fuck you and your grandma" to that shit and bringing up a manual that has never been mentioned before. (There was Tube Safety and You from "The O Games", but that was about positioning yourself on the ride through. This is not that book.)

And it's so unbelievably stupid because, even in spite of the episode's name, you're telling me we can't get an 11-minute episode where it's Onom in the tubes? We got an 11-minute episode about the tubes in Season 1, GTFOH!

"I'm sure the Odd Squad Airline would love to help!"

I was going to make a comment on how fucking gobsmacked I was and how silly this was, but then I realized that Odd Squad is a pseudo-government organization and so of course they would have their own goddamn airline with their own goddamn private planes.

...Huh. I wonder if that's why the Task Force Department had a plane in "Overdue"?

OH F-FYACK OH GOD IT'S A HUMANIZED AIRPLANE OFUCKGEE.

Thank God they fixed the audio mixing here because otherwise my level of "I'm disturbed" would be extremely high from the plehn zoom sound alone.

Ohhhh...so this is Agent Ockpit. Honestly, I had expected her to turn up in another episode. Not in...whatever this hot mess is becoming.

That aside, though...Odd Air? Spelled like that or OddAir? I mean even putting aside that there's a fucking Plane department (actual Flight department?)...I'm more keen on spelling it out fully.

"...and the suitcase is made from my special weightless material."

Can't be too weightless if it's still abiding by the laws of the planet's gravity, Onom. That's what we call a skill issue.

"I'm sorry, but each suitcase can't weigh more than 5 pounds."

Checking...weight limits are in double digits...so this is soME HORSESHIT-

Okay, this shit made me cackle just for how I wasn't expecting Ockpit to tell him his flight is leaving in one minute.

Plehn I have not been on at all, but you'd think she'd tell him when the flight is leaving when he tried to book it. Basic common sense.

Ohhhh, so this is from the POV of the Huggle Monster. Yeah, that- that makes sense. Mmm two pieces of candy and a weird box thing.

They have books for everything under the sun that Twilight Sparkle would be jealous of, Jesus Christ.

Oh God...either this could go like in "Trials and Tubulations" or this could go like in "When Seren Cringes So Hard Her Organs Fold Into Themselves".

Aaaaand it's a vote for the latter!

The catch, of course, is that Asha Soetan is actually a professional dancer outside of Odd Squad. Isaac Kragten and Glee Dango got to show off their chops, so what's the director's excuse for her?

"Here comes the robot dance."

Somewhere, Oswald is seething by way of "SHE'S DANCING NORMALLY!!"

"One day, my robot dance will save us. Just like in "Oswald in the Machine" where-"

"Is now really the time to be bringing up past episodes?!"

"Right, right. My bad."

I'll admit, this episode hasn't made me laugh much so far...but Orli's becoming a strong contender for the comedy award for this round.

Ahhh, there it is. The "we're gonna get eaten" bit. That's the bitch. That's what I was hopin' for!

Either OddAir has some hella good leg room in a way not seen since the late 20th century, or this plane is hella crowded because they don't put all the suitcases up above the seats and under the plane and all that.

Also, dude got a seat where the row looks to be entirely empty. And plehn I have not been on, but that just barely seems possible.

(I'm choosing to ignore that we're getting another sleeping agent because at this point Omar is a man who needs a doctor and the law a sleep study.)

Even he's quoting the contrived-ass manual? GTFOH.

Oh. Yes. What I most want in my kids franchise about children in suits fighting oddness.

A POSSIBILITY OF FUCKING PLANE CRASHES.

Y'know, at least when Oprah's office had oxygen masks to breathe in, it was funny. Whether there will be a crash or not, this just made that age like milk left in the heat for three hours.

"So I'm afraid we'll be landing early, and hiding under our beds."

Ohhhh pilot, sweet summer child, if only you knew.

America has screaming children, people asking others to give up their seats for their children, and the most PR statements to ever PR when something goes wrong with no reimbursements.

The UK gives you free rail tickets if something goes wrong with your flight.

God Save Good Flying.

All right, I'm starting to see why that girl in the back looks like Olive.

One can dream...but it's not Olive.

(On to Part 2!)

[finnyphcntom]

notorious.

----------

chapter two : combos

---------

He remembers his young days, walking into this very gas station way past his curfew with Aiden. He’d walk right in and buy him one big blue raspberry slushie, and then grab whatever snack he was craving that night. It was typically combos. He fucking loved combos.

---------

Fucking shit.

He was tired, exhausted even. He knew Dandelion was fun to talk to but shit, not that fun.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : geralt got baxk with me the party is at 6 but everyone showsbup late to shit like that so meet me at 7'

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : excited to see you, its been a while!'

The speedway parking lot was rather empty when Lambert put his car in park.

There were many things he swore by, and just as many things he swore by but didn't listen to. One of those things was stopping caffeine- effective probably never.

Not only did Dandelion keep him up, but he was just a tired grouchy man.

But he needed his energy today. He had to work a shitty 9-5, but after, he had a party to crash. Better expect pettiness of all that is petty. He's talking tables thrown, lies exposed…

He knew the location, the time, who all would be there. Its funny, actually, because Dandelion said Kiera's been there often.

But she hadn't. Lambert had asked her about it; if she knew anything. Each time she would go quiet as if trying to remember or think if she has, but would always answer no. The days of the party, she would be stuck at her business late or have something to do. So there was no way she would have been able to make it.

She always had something to do, near the end.

Isnt that funny? Never wanted to hang out with him, never went on dates, barely even responded to him, but sobbed when he left her. She begged him to stay, hell, even threw glassware at him- it made no sense in his rather walnut sized brain.

'lambert : hey do me a favor, dont tell geralt im going'

'lambert : or tbh anyone for that matter. i want it to be a complete surprise.'

'lambert : do that for me and consider me ur free ride of the night, will u princess?’

He slipped his phone into his pocket and got out of his car, walking into the speedway.

He remembers his young days, walking into this very gas station way past his curfew with Aiden. He’d walk right in and buy him one big blue raspberry slushie, and then grab whatever snack he was craving that night. It was typically combos. He fucking loved combos.

Aiden first put him on the snack, Lambert thinking they were incredibly… “mid.” But after trying different flavors, he realized he was literally obsessed with the pizza flavors. They were a snack sent by the heavens, a gift from god himself.

But man, how he missed Aiden. Grief never ends, never goes away. Lambert lost maybe more than half of him when he received that phone call that night from Aiden’s mother. Everyday was the same- no more two in the morning gas station runs and getting high behind said gas station. No more skipping highschool classes to hang out in the bathrooms.

He could never again eat combos.

Life was the same. He finds someone he clicks with, gets attached to them way to quick then someone like him should, its good for a while, and then it ends. Doesn't matter how that ending comes about, it still ends.

And every single day he works this shit ass nine to five. He comes back and does the same farm work, plays the same game. He could really use a switch up, but how?

A ding from his phone causes him to realize that he's standing there, just ominously staring at the red bull fridge. If he had a nickel for every time his phone is the mediator between him and his weirdly timed zone-outs, he would have… plenty of nickels, actually.

‘dandelion : oh, what kind of ride we talkin? ;)’

‘dandelion : is your passenger seat taken? morning btw ^^ i fell asleep’

Lambert's response was shamefully immediate. And oh yeah, he saved Dandelions contact.

‘lambert : never ta ken when its you, princess’

‘lambert : and im talkin bout the ride of your life baby’

His smile is the biggest it’s been in a while when he grabs two or three red bulls and heads to the self checkout.

He really, really wasn't used to this. What the fuck was he doing? Flirting was typically really hard for the guy, given he attempts to avoid any form of human interaction.

Dandelion doesn't answer, not even when he's paid and back in his car. Lambert has never been the most patient of people.

‘dandelion : uhhhhh what do i do if 3 of my tires are slashed?’

‘dandelion : i have a performance idk what to do should i call geralt?’

‘dandelion : geralt will just get mad tho and assume it was my ex’

He stared at his phone screen. According to Geralt, Dandelion’s ex is.. well, psychotic. Dandelion has had to move, stay nights with them, and get Geralt to scare the guy off on multiple occasions.

But he had work in approximately 23 minutes. He couldnt skip work, it was too late for him to call in. He would be in big trouble if he did so, there only being one other manager for the whole store. Not to mention, the paycut. His paycheck would be short, and he's got saving to do.

Geralt would likely get angry at him, too. He was always real big on making sure Lambert never socialized with Dandelion. Lambert was never really sure why.

Of course, there were a lot of reasons he speculated. Geralt knew Lambert would treat him better. Geralt knew Dandelion would like him better. Geralt knew that though antisocial, Lambert tended to form attachments quickly.

Years of abuse and neglect from a drunken father would do that to a guy, he supposes. Always getting attached, paranoid of random people. It was hard for him to trust.

He wasn't thinking. Wasn't thinking when he lifted his phone and tapped on it a few times.

“Hey, this is Lambert. Im letting you know I wont be making it in today. Im sorry.”

He hung up.

Did he really just do that?

‘lambert : hey, whats ur address?’

~~~~~~~~~

Dandelion looked just about ready to sob when he got in the car.

“I told you my performance is not until later.” Dandelion says, anxiously checking his surroundings. “I couldve- couldve arranged an uber. Or just not went. Its not really that important.”

This man was chronically insane. His ex slashes his tires in a location hes not supposed to know about? And he was just going to stay there?

“Clearly someone who isnt supposed to know you live here, well.. does. Its not safe for you to be here right now. We can… I dont know. Do you want to come to my place?” Lambert asked.

Dandelion shook his head no. He wasnt for Geralt knowing, wanting to avoid drama all together.

Lambert cracked open one of his redbulls, putting the car back in drive and pulling out of the driveway.

“Then, do you have parents to g-”

“No. Please, thank you, but no. Not them.” Dandelion says, clutching his seatbelt. “They don't really support my life right now.”

Lambert didn't need an explanation, driving down the road. He didn't have a girlfriend to waste money on, so he wasn't necessarily worried about wasting gas.

It was quiet for a bit, Dandelion giving himself a bit to calm down. When Lambert begins to question if they were going to talk at all, Dandelion speaks up.

“I like being a passenger princess. Being treated like royalty, which I deserve no less.” He says, smiling. “I am quite picky. Do you think you can keep up?”

Clearly, Lambert was really good at flirting with Dandelion before. It came naturally to him, flowing out of his mind like a river. So, clearly, he needed not to think before spewing out the best pick-up line you’ve ever heard,

“I- I uh- can, can keep you up.”

Okay that was bad. But rather worth it, if it weren't for the rupture of laughter that rang through the car.

“I'm focused on driving!” He exclaims, defensive manners strong in his words.

“You know, you and Geralt are similar.” Dandelion closes his eyes, and Lambert's heart drops. The shadow was back, coming for him, engulfing him, warming him and leading him astray. It was burning cold, sharp, an ache in his heart. A feeling he was tired, or even exhausted of. Geralt was a never-ending, constantly raising bar that he had to do hourly pullups on. Hourly reminders that he was not Geralt, the perfect golden child of the family.

“But you’re also so different. I'd go as far to say you’re nicer,” Dandelion starts, and Lambert's heart flutters. “And honestly? Better morals. More fun to be around. What im trying to say,” the shadow is shrinking, shiverling into a smaller fragment of what it once was, instead being replaced by the light that is this mans gorgeous fucking face, “I can definitely tell you were raised by the same man. But you’re also.. Your own person, and I like that.”

In the middle of the street, he put his car in park and grabbed both sides of Dandelions face, pressing his lips onto the soft, delicate lips of the sweet princess of sunshine he had sitting in the passenger seat of his car.. Dandelion climbs on top of him as they begin to make out.

Is what would happen if Lambert got everything he wanted. And if traffic laws were avoidable. And if he had tinted windows.

~~~~~~~~~

Dandelion was a performer, a rising one at that. Therefore, when Dandelion suggested he come watch his performance, there was no way in hell he could decline. He saw videos of him on almost any platform he had- covering songs, writing songs, his cute, smart little intros and outros. He was made to perform.

He was supposed to be covering a song today. It wasn't a concert or anything- he was hired to put on a show for an event at a club. It shouldn't be too crowded. It was a club, at 3pm. No way it’d be busy.

Boy was he wrong. Luckily, Dandelion was able to drag him to the front, right in the center. He winked and gave him a little wave, before he was off somewhere backstage.

Lambert stood there like a fool, a lost puppy if you will. He had never been the type for this, was not expecting this many people, and was overstimulated, and- holy shit, the lights just dimmed red. Like a deep, blood red.

There was a faint noise, like a sound kicking on. When music started, he visibly flinched. God, it was loud. The person next to them, seemingly recording, gave him a rather rude side eye.

The music stopped, and Dandelion walked out, wearing a rather oversized black sheer blouse- that fell perfectly over his porcelain shoulders.

“How are we doing tonight?” He says, smiling widely at the crowd in front of him.

The crowd just roared, causing Lambert to flinch again, but his body locked up when he made eye contact with Dandelion. The red lighting- a warm tone but god did Dandelion look so cold- sick as fuck.

“How am I?” He asked, pointing at himself. “Oh, I'm okay. I almost couldn't make it here. Valdo Marx slashed my tires.”

His ex was Valdo Marx? That ugly ass guy?

A loud set of ‘boo’s’ and ‘fuck him!’s’ ran through the crowd, as the beat started.

“Anyway, I decided to cover a Hozier song. You know, per request.” He winked.

“Just a little rush, babe.

To feel dizzy, to derail the mind of me.

Just a little hush babe,

Our veins are busy,

But my hearts in atrophy”

His eyes were wide. His heart was pounding. His heart rate was faster than the blue hedgehog in the games he’d play when he was little. The red lighting, his cheeky little intro about his ex. His even cheekier smile, the look of passion in his eyes.

Dandelion was a masterpiece.

“You and I, nursing on a poison that never stung,

Our teeth and lungs are lined with the scum of it,

Somewhere for this, death and guns

We are deaf, we are numb

Free and young and we can feel none of it”

Lambert realized the music really wasn't that loud anymore. No, it wasn't loud enough. Though still, with hands on the microphone stand, he was the best performer Lambert had ever seen. Okay, maybe he was a bit biased. That voice was a gift from heavy itself, though.

Why did he only now decide to pull out his phone and start recording? He didn't know. But he was.

“Something isn't right, babe

I keep catching little words,

But the meanings thin

Im somewhere outside my life, babe

I keep scratching but somehow, I can't get in

So we’re slaves to any semblance of touch,

Lord we should quit...

But we love it too much”

Dandelion seemed to see that Lambert was recording, and made direct eye contact with the man again. He watched as Dandelion’s hands ran up the microphone stand, slowly pulling the microphone out of its attachment, walking forward..

Slowly, Dandelion transitioned onto his knees, closer to the crowd. He held himself up with his free arm, his sheer blouse falling over his shoulder to reveal more of that porcelain skin to the needy, desperate people.

He was the so-called needy, desperate people.

“Darlin’, don't you, stand there watching,

Won't you

Come and save me from it?

Darlin’, don't you, join in, you’re supposed to

Drag me away from it.”

Now deciding to sit up, if anything he was leaning a little back, face full of emotion. He was too dumbfounded to read which emotion though. Just saw Dandelion, that pretty face, and pretty skin peeking through.

“Anyway to distract and sedate,

Adding shadows to the wall of the cave.”

Dandelion was able to pull off a mix of standing up and spinning as he repeated the chorus, singing with much more energy than the start. It probably had a word. Everything had a word. Lambert wasn't a master of music.

“I learned that song yesterday, just for you guys.” He said, winking. What comes next is a somehow, strangely handsome mixture between a pant and a laugh.

“I think I’m going to go to a gas station and get a redbull and some combos after this one, what about you guys?”

And as the cheer and roars erupt, he's stuck there.

Combos.

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

rant

I'm never getting out of here because my dad keeps borrowing thousands of dollars from me. He borrows, pays me back a nickel here a dime there, then borrows more and more and more. At one point he forgot how much he owed me and insisted that I was the one trying to rip him off. He borrowed even more today, and my mom is trying to be peacemaker, reassuring me that they're good for it and will have me paid off by the end of the summer. Sure, just like you said last month. And the month before that! I have nothing! My dad treats it like it's free money, an interest free credit card with no limit and no due date. He spends most of his waking time "doing the numbers," keeping track of the finances in countless notebooks that he has strewn around the house, stuffed in every nook of every room, most of them full to bursting with additional papers and envelopes stuffed between their pages. I looked at one once, and it was the scribblings of a madman, just page after page of nonsense figures and symbols like a fucking zodiac killer. He had a stroke in 2020, and he's never been the same. I don't think it even makes sense to him, because he's always whiplashing back and forth between "we're rich, let's spend hundreds of dollars on shit we don't need" and "we're destitute, we're ruined, we're gonna lose the house" because he thinks he can do math in his head (he never could, even before the stroke). I don't understand how he's able to hold down a job if he acts like this in front of us. Is he able to hide it in public, or do all his co-workers think he's fucking insane? He doesn't know how computers work. He's been using them since before I was born, but he doesn't know how to look up files or attach them to emails or close tabs or reset passwords or google ANYTHING! If he doesn't know how to do something, he just won't do it, won't even bother looking for tutorials or asking how it's done, he'll just pretend like it's not his problem, and somehow it always works out for him. I don't understand, I hate him so much. He's an abusive alcoholic motherfucker who is cruel to every single man, woman, and child he sees (he once threatened to drop kick a little girl in front of her parents in a grocery store because she darted in front of his cart when he was leaving an aisle, and I'm surprised her dad didn't kick his ass right then and there). It is so much worse than I could possibly put into words here, there are so many little ongoing things that keep adding up, I feel like I'm being dragged down into hs crazy little world to stay. God help me, I can't handle this anymore, I want to just pack up and leave but I have no money and nowhere to go. I can't move away until I have an apartment, I can't get an apartment until I find a job, and I can't find a job until I move away, fuckin catch-22! My current job is killing me, and I don't make enough to live on my own, but I can't stay with my folks any longer. It's to the point that I would rather be homeless than stuck here. I feel sick, I just want it all to stop...

[synamartia]

PLEASE LET THEM BE OKAY. PLEASE LET THEM BE OKAY. PLEASE LET THEM--

♡ Leaning over the man, hands red and face twisted in a marriage of fear and wrath, you were bringing a large rock down on the man’s unrecognizable face over and over and over and—

FUCKING GET IT, BABY! Mama's so proud 🥹 Absolutely love the emotion you put in the first few paragraphs btw, babes~ The instinctive reflex of Reader's movements, the inability to articulate oneself after such a volatile situation, the unadulterated wrath Reader undoubtedly felt upon seeing Alastor so close to death- all of it. I. LOVE. IT.

♡ You looked down at your hands, but he pulled your face back up to look at his, “Always surprising me in the best ways.”

AND THE IMMEDIATE COMFORT AL GIVES AFTER THE FACT 🫠 PLEASE, HAVE MERCY, HAZEL-

♡ Perhaps you thought if you hit him enough you could make it have not happened at all. If you killed him fast enough, Alastor would have been fine and standing.

Not to mention Reader did all of this under the assumption that Alastor was NOT fine - I mean, he is fine, in every sense of the word, but READER DIDN'T KNOW THAT. If this kind of raw, deeply emotional reaction in the face of irreparable damage doesn't scream LOVE to them, I don't know what will.

♡ But you weren’t sure. You blinked and Alastor was touching you and underneath you was a pulp of a man’s face. 

Oooooohhhh, don't get me started on the psychological toll killing a person for the first time can potentially have on Reader - assuming they are well-adjusted, of course. I'm still trying to figure out if Reader is a psychopath, a sociopath or just cynical. 🤔

♡ He’d gotten too comfortable. He pushed too hard. He wanted too much. He was too much.

BABY NO. YOU COULD NEVER BE TOO MUCH. EVER. 🥺

♡ “You can’t die. I’ll—,” tears poured down your face in streams not drops. Your throat closed around the words. Short and fast, your breath ran wild. Hands tingling, your lips felt like they were pricked with a hundred tiny needles. 

The panic attack at the thought of losing him and the need to ground oneself with physical contact, not to mention your deliverance of these things - marvelous!

♡ Alastor pushed down his own mess of emotions, “One deep breath in.” His hands settled on yours,  still on his face. He could feel the familiar stickiness of drying blood in his hair. “Keep breathing in.” You coughed, shaking your head no. “You can, I promise it. Would I lie to you?" You laughed, managing to catch your breath for a moment, “Y-yes.” 

FUUUUCK, EVEN AL'S ABILITY TO REDIECT READER'S THOUGHTS AND EMOTIONS! 😍

♡ Alastor nodded, “That’s true, there’s actually nothing I can’t do well.”

Cocky little shit, aren't ya? It's the truth, though

♡ A hummed acknowledgment, “That makes us even.” He saved you before, you did the same in turn. A little piece of you worried the contract was done and he’d disappear.

Does it really, though? I mean, Alastor already had Stalker on his list, saving Reader was just an added bonus. Unless you meant Tommy (in which case just ignore this entire statement), whereas Reader's actions stemmed from fear, from concern, from love, from the dreadful thought of losing him.

♡ A shiver of fear in the warm bed as you continued, “I want to be there. With you. Always.” You gathered your courage. Shields completely down, if just for a moment, “I know there was nothing right about tonight but,” you wiped your tears off his back with your palm, reabsorbing that pain before he could soak it in, “Please. Don’t shut me out now. I’ll go to hell tomorrow for you but please don’t damn me to picking up a newspaper and seeing your name in the headlines; Learning you died in block letters for a nickel. I wouldn’t survive it.”

*sobbing uncontrollably* GOD FUCKING DAMN IT HAZEL 💔😭

♡ You hadn’t hesitated. He had thought you would run, that he’d slip away into death and you’d book it to safety. Something he never planned to ask you to do, to kill someone, you’d done it for him when it was the most selfless option. Did he mean so much to you? He wanted to ask, but if you said anything other than an immediate yes he feared he would turn to a pillar of salt and crumble.

Uhm, DUH??? YOU'RE JUST NOW FIGURING THIS OUT?!?!

♡ If you both could find the courage to just look at each other you’d have all your answers. But you couldn’t. The fear still too strong. So you changed the topic for a chance at an escape.

🎵 NO CHANCE, NO WAY, I WON'T SAY IT, NO NO~ 🎵

♡ A small confession, to turn the conversation away from death. “After our dates, your cologne always lingers on my clothes. Sometimes I just fall asleep in them. When I wake up, my pillow smells like you.” Your body formed against his back, pressing as tightly as you could. How was that less embarrassing than everything else you’d said when it was arguably more pathetic?

BABYYYYYY NONE OF THIS IS PATHETIC OKAY??? It's just so very human.

♡ “If you asked me,” he spoke slowly, hands resting on yours above his heart, a deep breath, “I’d stop.” He would. 

Istg, one more hit and my heart will be past the point of no return 💓😭

♡ Alastor thought about it, if he left early enough he could still get home in time to empty the trunk. He hummed an affirmative, when he didn’t move you understood it was the former. He didn’t want to go. He needed more time. He needed to feel you nearby. An odd sense that if he pulled away now the thread holding you two together would pull him apart at the seams with the distance. 

Okay look, I would be squealing and kicking my feet at how adorable and hopelessly in love our deer couple is. And I was - until I remembered Canon!Alastor dies young T.T (assuming you're trying to maintain any canonical details, of course)

♡ You would think nightmares would plague you after killing someone in cold blood, but no. You practically killed Tommy, when you considered it thoroughly. And while this night was not a joy, you had defended yourself and Alastor. You didn’t feel bad. You didn’t regret it. You were just scared you did a bad job. That you’d get caught. 

Back to a previous react - I don't think Reader holds more than 5% culpability for Tommy's murder. He would have ended up on Alastor's radar sooner or later, and if not, he would have been killed by whoever it was that he owed money to. Reader was just the straw that broke the camel's back, the catalyst that sped up the inevitable conclusion to his life. Plus, this last one was quite literally a self-defense case, beginning to end. Reader may have lured Brutus into a trap, but I'd argue he was doing the same thing. And with Alastor technically being a witness, he could easily corroborate Reader's explanation with a few carefully worded statements should they get caught. I know it wouldn't be as simple as that, but perfect worlds and all that, right?

♡ “I don’t feel like I killed anyone.” You said it with a levity that made him glance around, wondering if you’d hit your head a little too hard earlier, “I feel like I stopped someone from killing you. Which feels,” you fought to suppress your smile from growing any further, “kinda good. Like I’m strong. I’m just scared I made a mistake and police will find out. I’m terrified we’ll be seperated. But I don’t feel bad.”

BOY IF YOU DON'T WIFE READER UP RIGHT NOW, THEN I WILL.

♡ Your pinky came out, “I’m fine, and if I’m ever not, I will tell you. Promise.” His eyes left your face to stare at the tiny digit, “If I break the promise, you get to break the pinky.”

I love how many variations there are regarding the consequences of breaking a pinky promise; the one I've heard most often is sticking a needle in your eye. And now, time for your regularly scheduled unrelated story time! My grandmother is very conservative and doesn't like to use crude language or gestures (as I'm sure a lot of grandparents tend to be), and my grandpa absolutely LOVED pestering her until she would lose her shit and cuss or flip him off. Well, to get around that while simultaneously pissing him off in return, instead of giving him the middle finger, she'd hold her pinky up and say, "You're not worth the bird, so here's a feather!" 🤣

♡ Alastor drove away with the man, ready to disappear the body and try to sleep before work if possible. A nagging still sat in his stomach, a little pull that maybe you’d change your mind. 

Holy shit there's so many pieces in this chapter I wanna comment on Wifey and I know this feeling all too well. Even though she's been on HRT for almost two years now, she still gets anxious and has panic attacks, thinking I'll change my mind and stop supporting her decision - no matter how many times I reassure her I'm not going anywhere unless SHE wants me to. And she's ALWAYS asking me how I've been so "normal" (as she put it) about the whole thing. It never once crossed my mind to NOT support her, to walk away or anything like that. And I love that you added bits and pieces with the same sentiment. Absolutely amazing, dear~ ❤️

♡ “A bird? Alastor just ‘pretty’ woulda been a fine compliment.” 

GIRL JUST TAKE THE COMPLIMENT.

♡ “Anyone wanna smoke? I don’t want to go into the alley alone.” You asked the room, several girls glancing your way and shaking their heads no as you hurried back in from your set.

To be fair, and feel free to correct me if I'm wrong here, but I think it was widely believed that smoking was actually HEALTHY for you back then. 🤔 So while I agree that Reader does need to stop smoking, it's still very era appropriate.

♡ Someone you didn’t see added, “Fuck, daytimes not safe either.” 

FOR. FUCKING. REAL. Omfg, the sheer audacity some people have! 😩

♡ It had been a lovely night, absolutely jarring compared to the night before. You leaned back in the chair, you knew you weren’t the best at saying what you meant. Especially when the words you offered could be used to hurt you. Words of affection and love, when true, were daggers given handle-first to someone else. 

"Love is giving someone the power to destroy you, and trusting them not to." I think that's how the saying goes?

♡ Well there was someone you’d allow to shine brighter. Someone you’d happily let take the lead. You’d thought letting a man walk in front of you was a sign of subservience. It hadn’t ever occurred to you that there could be respect in trusting someone else to go ahead. That the act of going first could be for protection and not power.

BABY JUST ADMIT IT. YOU'RE IN LOVE, AND SO IS HE.

♡ Frank?

It's one of Sir Pentious' Egg Bois, of course! Who else? No seriously who the fuck is Frank

♡ There was a hum, “Well my dear, you’ve offered me a wonderful transition into my next question.” Alastor was sitting at his kitchen table, nervously turning his coffee cup around in circles, “Would you like to come over tomorrow night? I can pick you up after your show.”

♡ You pressed the phone receiver into your chest, teeth chewing on your bottom lip. What happens when he drives away? So…where the bodies go. But most importantly, the biggest part of this—where he lives. So much can be gleaned about someone from their home. A bookshelf alone could make or break an attraction. You brought the receiver back to your mouth. “Lovely! Sure thing— Alastor. Yes.” you almost added on an awkward nickname like daddy-o or mister man, like an idiot, because your brain was misfiring like you’d seen him in the sunlight again.

Oh thank god I thought I was the only one fighting back the urge to use out-of-place nicknames! 😅

♡ What if it was terribly dirty? Could you still love him if he was a slob? 

Babes, the only times this man is a slob is when he's committing a murder or eating the kitty, got it? You've seen how he dresses and how he cleans up after killing someone. Have a little faith, doll!

♡ Opening the screen door with a signature creak, the sound many southerners could call comforting, he walked to the greenhouse.

God I can hear the creaking in my head rn! I may be from Las Vegas, but thanks to my Texan mom, I'm more of a country southerner than a big city gal, and THIS. THIS RIGHT HERE. ❤️ It's simple things like this that make me feel nostalgic and home sick.

♡ Would he have met you if he wasn’t a killer? 

Now there's the million dollar question. If you ask me, I think the universe would have found a way.

♡ Alastor shook his head, smile strained. A perceptive person would have picked up on it, but Brenda was not perceptive.

FUCKING-- BRENDA. MY WIFE WORKS WITH A NOSEY BRENDA TOO. 😂

♡ Alastor reached behind you for your bag, “No, I leave it on when I’m gone. Gives the impression that the house isn’t empty.”

YET ANOTHER THING THAT I DO IRL. It might not be good for the electric bill, but hey, you can never be too cautious, am I right?

♡ “What a coincidence, so do I. Bedrooms in general, really.” He placed your bag on the dresser, offering to unpack it for you. Your smile screwed up, shaking your head no. You couldn’t imagine Alastor folding your panties and setting them into a drawer. 

Honestly I'm the type of person to just leave it all in the suitcase and only pull out items when I intend to use them. 🤷‍♀️

♡ “Yes please.” You took a seat on the end of his bed, watching him tenderly empty the bag before beginning to put things away like you’d come home from a trip. “A bed big enough for two people. You didn’t tell me you were a fancy man. Ooh la la.”

♡ You shrugged, “My mother taught me to always have an escape. From situations, from rooms, from people. Not terrible advice.”

No, it is not! 👍

♡ “Tsk tsk, you give up too easily, my dear.”

Who said we gave up, Babyboy? Still planning on robbing you, just of something different, something that ISN'T your money at least from my perspective

♡ Alastor stood, “What would you have done if you had robbed me and I marched into the theater demanding my cash back.” It took a second to realize he was being serious in wanting you to play along. 

OOOOOO ARE WE GONNA DO SOME ROLEPLAY NOW???

♡ His mouth came to your ear, “Well, miss, I think you owe me the opportunity to try again.”

OH FUUUUCCCCCKKKKK MMMEEEEE 🫠🫠🫠

♡ You followed him, letting him guide you hand in hand back to his bedroom.

HAZEL WHY DO YOU TEASE ME LIKE THIS "OTL

Bed tiiiimmmmeeee~ Then on to chapter six~! 😘❤️

A Doe in Fall (part 5)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦

Part 5 Too Much

Actions famously speak louder than words, so what did you say, exactly, to Alastor with your actions that night? You were briefly rattled by what happened in the park but not for the obvious reasons. Despite everything, despite your fears, you found the situation deepening between you two when he suddenly invites to stay the night at his home. Perhaps he had fears of his own?

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, No smut! That’s next part because this part was already super fucking long 😭 , but we do flirt our asses off and get taken by the hand, crying, panic attacks, discussions of murder, dead bodies, you really have to stop smoking, deer, adorably nervous Alastor, this man owns more than one mug you fucking know it」

19 days later… 😩 please don’t kill me. 5000 words here, Another like 6000 words are posting this Thursday, also tumblr wouldn’t let me post this for like an hour , just gave me error messages, I had to copy and paste 4 times so there may be some errors in here so let me know if you find spelling or format issues🙏

When he came to, momentarily either unconscious or just incapacitated as his brain started up again, he was frantic for his glasses. He could hear the sounds of a brutal death, the crunch of anger, the squish of rage. 

His eyes focused now, slightly askew and smudged glasses helping him see you clearly. 

Leaning over the man, hands red and face twisted in a marriage of fear and wrath, you were bringing a large rock down on the man’s unrecognizable face over and over and over and—

You flinched when Alastor’s hands delicately slipped down your arms and peeled your fingers from the rock.

Full body shaking, “He was going to kill you!” You said it too loud, too fast. “He was going to—,” Your breath got caught in your throat, “He wanted to— He was trying to kill you, Alastor.”

Wet with mud and blood and the rain still left on the grass, you were pulled into Alastor’s lap. He tucked your head into the crook of his neck with a small wince and hugged you. “He was. He almost did.” Low and slow, his chest rumbled when he said it. “You did such a good job.”

You looked down at your hands, but he pulled your face back up to look at his, “Always surprising me in the best ways.”

You’d forgotten already, how when adrenaline wanes you’re left with terrible tremors and a suddenly clear head. Alastor almost died. You hadn’t thought at all when it happened. Everything had taken place so fast, faster than your brain could process.

You had seen Alastor stop struggling against the man, his body went still and your eyes were blinded with tears, there was a horrible sound that may have come from you, and then there was nothing. A flash of running Colors. Distant muddled sounds.

Maybe you saw someone grab a rock. 

You might have hit the man on the back of the head. 

You think he fell down and something didn’t stop moving against him. 

Perhaps you thought if you hit him enough you could make it have not happened at all. If you killed him fast enough, Alastor would have been fine and standing.

But you weren’t sure. You blinked and Alastor was touching you and underneath you was a pulp of a man’s face. 

Alastor’s heart was racking against his ribs. Arms tightening around you unconsciously as his eyes landed on the dead man.

He’d gotten too comfortable. He pushed too hard. He wanted too much. He was too much.

He felt himself spilling over and staining your hands metaphorically and now literally.

You didn’t feel anything. Not during. Now you felt too much.

Your mind was filled with an echoing chorus of, ‘He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost died. He almost died.” 

There was a strange fear that Alastor had died, and any second you’d blink again and be alone in the trees with two dead men. You twisted in his lap,  hands rocketing to Alastor’s face and gripping the sides of his head. You were staring into his eyes, panting.

“You can’t die. I’ll—,” tears poured down your face in streams not drops. Your throat closed around the words. Short and fast, your breath ran wild. Hands tingling, your lips felt like they were pricked with a hundred tiny needles. 

Alastor pushed down his own mess of emotions, “One deep breath in.” His hands settled on yours,  still on his face. He could feel the familiar stickiness of drying blood in his hair. “Keep breathing in.” You coughed, shaking your head no. “You can, I promise it. Would I lie to you?”

You laughed, managing to catch your breath for a moment, “Y-yes.” 

“Well, now you’re adding insult to injury.” He made a show of rubbing his neck. You smacked his chest lightly, breathing in twice in a row.

He held both of your hands in both of his, “Name a time I’ve ever lied.” He distracted you but wounded himself. He could name a time.

You tried to think. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re just a really good liar.” Your voice was hoarse. 

Alastor nodded, “That’s true, there’s actually nothing I can’t do well.”

Another laugh, a cry, “Stop it.”

His warm, clean hands wiped your tears. “You’re being aggressive again, sweetheart. You know I prefer soft spoken women.”

The laughter helped break the cycle of hyperventilating. As your breathing finally got to a manageable speed you felt exhaustion deep in your bones.

All at once the sensations became prominent. Your knees were red and muddy, your hands bloody, your left side and back wet. You were sticky and sore and cold. “Alastor,” his legs were framing you, yours now folded under yourself and digging into rocks, “I wanna go home.” You adjusted his glasses, “Together.” 

If he had a reason to say no, he ignored it. 

“I thought I was the messy one.” He washed your hands with the water cans and settled you into the passenger seat of his car. Alastor took care of filling the trunk and cleaning the ground before sliding into the driver's seat.

He turned to you, his face dirty and clothes worse. You looked down at yourself; knees a color of wine, and blue dress now dyed brown.

“I know you have to get rid of him. So, I won’t ask you to sleep over. Just,” you felt sleepy, mind asking you to let it catch up, “let me take care of you for a little bit. Okay?”

His hand slipped onto your leg, he wanted to make a joke about sex or murder hoping to make you laugh again. But it was obvious he needed to be quiet, so he just nodded.

Alastor left the car on a side street behind your building. The man whose name you never asked concealed under canvas and red oil tins.

Luckily everything was clean in your apartment. It was small, just one room and a bathroom. The other apartments you’d seen had communal toilets and showers so you were quite proud of your space. You’d made it yours, gifted trinkets here and there, walls decorated with hanging dried flowers you'd had thrown at your feet. A shrine to your abilities.

You peeled off his clothes, tossing them in the kitchen sink and wiping off as much dirt as you could with a damp rag. 

Clothing hanging over the radiator, you both got into the shower. Cold and wet now hot and soaking,  you took his hands and sat you both down in the tub while the water ran down. Taking your time, you gently scratched the blood and mud from his hair and let it all wash away.

When fully cleaned and dried off he slipped on the only bit of clothing he had left, a loose pair of boxer shorts. You had a slip, silky and soft, to comfort you. Your mother wore silk, and it always made you feel safe. The way the fabric slid around its self and others, never catching or bunching up, was something you always hoped to emulate; smooth and cool, but always in need of a little caution and care.

A small bed meant for one, but you offered it. When Alastor motioned for you to slide in too, you didn’t hesitate.

Nose to nose, the room was quickly heating up with the radiator's help. 

You hadn’t been in a bed with Alastor in nearly two months, not since that first time. His words stuck to you like embroidered messages lovingly stitched into a handkerchief you didn’t want to lose. So you kept your hands between your thighs, still and away, to make sure he had space to exist in your bed.

“You saved my life.” Alastor whispered, one of you finally bringing up the obvious.

A hummed acknowledgment, “That makes us even.” He saved you before, you did the same in turn. A little piece of you worried the contract was done and he’d disappear.

“No, my dear. I owe you so much more.” A kiss to your cheek.

A terrifying thought took hold of you. “Roll over.” He looked confused but did. You were always asking him to turn away, always trying to hide your face when you said things that scared you. You hooked your arms under his and held tightly. 

“If I wasn’t there, there’s no one to have told me. How long would I have waited,” another torrent of tears into his back you couldn’t keep in if you tried, “at the phone booth for you to call in the morning.”

You were crying like a child, uncontrolled and with your entire body. Pathetic. 

He had never had someone to worry about those details. Everyone truly close to him was dead. Until now, of course. 

Of course.

What a natural addition you provided to him. He thought it like that it was a long standing fact.

He hugged your arms tighter to his chest. 

A shiver of fear in the warm bed as you continued, “I want to be there. With you. Always.” You gathered your courage. Shields completely down, if just for a moment, “I know there was nothing right about tonight but,” you wiped your tears off his back with your palm, reabsorbing that pain before he could soak it in, “Please. Don’t shut me out now. I’ll go to hell tomorrow for you but please don’t damn me to picking up a newspaper and seeing your name in the headlines; Learning you died in block letters for a nickel. I wouldn’t survive it.”

You didn’t want to meet his eyes, worried rejection was waiting for you there, so you’d asked him to turn so you could hide. He picked up your hands and kissed your knuckles one by one. “Please don’t say things like that outloud. Things like ‘go to hell’ and ‘tomorrow’ so close together. The spirits can hear you.” A kiss to your palm, “And I wouldn’t dare shut you out.” He couldn’t. The very idea of going back to how he was before, alone and mumbling to the dead, made his heart race with his own panic. If you disappeared tomorrow he was scared to think what would happen to him. “Plus, I know you’d just find me anyway. You always do.”

Had you not been there, he would have still tried to kill the man. Waiting in an alley or for a walk home through an empty space. You weren’t at fault. He’d been hurt before, but this was by far the worst situation he had been in. But he would have been in it regardless of your participation. Alastor pressed his lips into your hand, smelling the soap you’d washed him with. 

You hadn’t hesitated. He had thought you would run, that he’d slip away into death and you’d book it to safety. Something he never planned to ask you to do, to kill someone, you’d done it for him when it was the most selfless option. Did he mean so much to you? He wanted to ask, but if you said anything other than an immediate yes he feared he would turn to a pillar of salt and crumble.

If you both could find the courage to just look at each other you’d have all your answers. But you couldn’t. The fear still too strong. So you changed the topic for a chance at an escape.

A small confession, to turn the conversation away from death. “After our dates, your cologne always lingers on my clothes. Sometimes I just fall asleep in them. When I wake up, my pillow smells like you.” Your body formed against his back, pressing as tightly as you could. How was that less embarrassing than everything else you’d said when it was arguably more pathetic?

He was quiet. You worried you’d pushed too far. Alastor worried he’d already hurt you too much.

“If you asked me,” he spoke slowly, hands resting on yours above his heart, a deep breath, “I’d stop.” He would. 

But, “I’d never ask that of you.” You said it so quickly, like blinking or yawning it happened without you needing to think about it. Alastor did something he felt he needed to do, you saw that look in his eyes before and understood this was Alastor at his truest. And the people he killed weren’t good people. He provided a service to New Orleans that no one appreciated.

He smiled against your palm, making sure you felt it, “Why are you so good to me?”

Without hesitation, Because I love you.

After a beat of silence, “Because you know where I live, obviously.”

A huff, “And where you work.” 

“And the park where I like to get fingered.”

Finally, his unburdened laugh, “I didn’t expect you to say that.” That sound of his joy bounced off the thin walls around you both. He rarely expected anything you said or did. It was part of your charm. Normally he could predict what people would say like reading a bad story, but you were something else. Effortlessly entertaining, was that a compliment? He was sure you’d say no and make that face you always did, something between a pout and a glare, between sad and angry. 

He had been asking genuinely. Why were you so good to him? Why so patient? Why care at all? 

“Can you sleep? Or do you need to go?” 

Alastor thought about it, if he left early enough he could still get home in time to empty the trunk. He hummed an affirmative, when he didn’t move you understood it was the former. He didn’t want to go. He needed more time. He needed to feel you nearby. An odd sense that if he pulled away now the thread holding you two together would pull him apart at the seams with the distance. 

You would think nightmares would plague you after killing someone in cold blood, but no. You practically killed Tommy, when you considered it thoroughly. And while this night was not a joy, you had defended yourself and Alastor. You didn’t feel bad. You didn’t regret it. You were just scared you did a bad job. That you’d get caught. 

The kind of dreams you had were different kinds of scary. Of Alastor always leaving a room when you entered, of falling off the stage and landing too far down, of waking up to feel Alastor cold beside you. 

When you did wake, your arms were still tight around him and he was warm. Your forehead rested between his shoulder blades. You didn’t feel different this time, you didn’t feel changed like after Tommy.

Alastor always had nightmares so he wasn’t surprised to have them in your bed. He dreamt he awoke on the ground, the man was gone but you were there broken into several pieces.

Had it been a dream though? 

After he dressed, you brushing his hair over a shared cup of coffee (you only had the single mug), you walked him to his car. The sun was nearly up and luckily no one else was. You had just wrapped a coat around your slip, not exactly acceptable clothing for being in public.

A shared kiss, small and chaste, Alastor’s mind elsewhere. He opened the door but stopped and turned back to you. It was always in these moments before you two parted that he felt the most frantic. 

“I know we love talking in circles and making jokes, but I have to ask you, bluntly. You killed a man. Are you alright?” When you only blinked, he quickly added, “It’s okay if you’re not.” His expression was pure worry, furrowed brows and flat mouth. “Nothing will change if you say you’re not.”

When you started to smile, Alastor thought he had lost his mind. The sun was rising behind you, making the shadows on your face slowly shift. He took a second to take in the scene. Ankles naked with sockless shoes. To your right was a trunk full of a dead man. And you just smiling like he’d made a joke. Which he explicitly said he wasn’t going to do.

“I don’t feel like I killed anyone.” You said it with a levity that made him glance around, wondering if you’d hit your head a little too hard earlier, “I feel like I stopped someone from killing you. Which feels,” you fought to suppress your smile from growing any further, “kinda good. Like I’m strong. I’m just scared I made a mistake and police will find out. I’m terrified we’ll be seperated. But I don’t feel bad.”

A normal man would be deeply concerned. You didn’t feel bad? For killing a man with a rock? Arguably one of the most brutal ways to murder a person. A normal man would worry he would be next.

Luckily for you both, Alastor was not a normal man. He stared at your face, trying to discern any hints of deceit there before he fell into the comfort of trust.

Your pinky came out, “I’m fine, and if I’m ever not, I will tell you. Promise.” His eyes left your face to stare at the tiny digit, “If I break the promise, you get to break the pinky.”

“Pinkies are useless, we should use a finger that matters.” He offered his index. You let yourself laugh, hooking your pointer finger with his.

Smile to smile, he exhaled his stress and slipped into his normal demeanor, “No worries, darling! No one will ever know what happened to him.” He leaned beside you and patted the trunk. “Leave it to me.”

Alastor drove away with the man, ready to disappear the body and try to sleep before work if possible. A nagging still sat in his stomach, a little pull that maybe you’d change your mind. 

He asked you the next morning, on your routine call, if he could stop by the theater when he finished with work that night. No reason in particular. He’d pull into the side street, and you could run out to see him.

When he arrived, you were in your stage outfit waiting to greet the crowd. Alastor smiled, “The prettiest bird I’ve ever seen!”

“A bird? Alastor just ‘pretty’ woulda been a fine compliment.” 

He offered an apology by way of kiss, soft hands coming to your cheek as he leaned against the door of his car. “I just wanted to see you. Steal a kiss before you stole some hearts. May I return tomorrow?”

Ah, that feeling again. Stupid school girl with her first crush, her first taste of love. “I wouldn’t complain.” 

That flow of conversation eased Alastor, things felt normal already. For you, they were. A small worry remained he may begin to act differently but the only difference was he seemed to be embracing you deeper. 

After your delivered kiss, you took the stage like a woman reborn. The warmth of the light felt like the sun. Pointed toes as you moved along the stage, hips loose and smile coy. 

As you looked around the backlit crowd you didn’t search for a good mark. The times you did play a man’s attention for Alastor were different, it felt like art when you lured men into Alastor’s claws.

A shake of your feathered fans, a very controlled lowering of your head, you let a hip rock out into view. A little flash of inner thigh. Then, your favorite part. One hand gripped your fans as you them with the aide of practiced fingers. Free hand undoing your still remarkably heavy and glittering bra and handing it behind the curtain.

Surprise reveal, a naked magic trick done behind distracting whirling feathers. Arms open, fans high, you waited for the applause to die down. Deep breaths were not possible, adrenaline and the weight of your costume keeping you from hiding the heaving of your chest. 

The whistles were your favorite. You couldn’t imagine Alastor whistling but you were sure it would be flawless in its ability to capture your attention. 

“Anyone wanna smoke? I don’t want to go into the alley alone.” You asked the room, several girls glancing your way and shaking their heads no as you hurried back in from your set.

“Just take the fire escape to the roof. That’s where we’ve been smoking since Mr. Brady said it was dangerous at night.” Florence was normally a perfect smoking partner, never talking too much. The name Brady made your stomach flip though, you had forgotten about him for a second. You’d managed to avoid him until Tommy’s bloody trail went cold, but you knew he still stalked around the jazz and music district.

A dancer laughed, “Nighttime has always been dangerous for women.”

Someone you didn’t see added, “Fuck, daytimes not safe either.” 

You climbed the creaky and seemingly forgotten-about fire escape to the roof. The breeze hit your face before your feet even left the metal railing. 

It was… a roof. Grey painted floors and brick sides. Nothing special, but you could see the bowl full of discarded cigarettes near the front of the building. You looked over the short wall that edged the front, you were able to see the pigeon shit covered marquee. What an unattractive view, the lights flashing out from beneath actual shit.

There was a metaphor there, you were sure. 

Looking around, there were a few wicker chairs hidden in the shadow of the street’s lights, thankfully upside down to keep them clean from the birds.

If more people used roofs instead of alleys Alastor would be out of luck. Tommy was difficult enough with a staircase, the fire escape would have been the nail in that coffin. 

It had been a lovely night, absolutely jarring compared to the night before. You leaned back in the chair, you knew you weren’t the best at saying what you meant. Especially when the words you offered could be used to hurt you. Words of affection and love, when true, were daggers given handle-first to someone else. 

So you hoped Alastor could guess how much he meant to you. You shouldn’t need to say it, right? Actions speak louder than words. You bludgeoned a man to death for what you had thought was a lost cause. It had seemed Alastor was already dead when you first brought down the rock. 

Diamonds are rocks, you considered. The most expensive costume the theater had was peacock feathered with shining crystals. You wanted to say you felt like a peacock, spirit large and wide and colorful. But those were males. Of course they were. The animal kingdom had males compete for mates with pretty colors and lovely songs. Now ladies pranced around in painted faces and short dresses. You didn’t feel pale or small like the ‘fairer sex’ peacock.

You felt like the swan. Vicious and beautiful, not out shone by anyone.

Well there was someone you’d allow to shine brighter. Someone you’d happily let take the lead. You’d thought letting a man walk in front of you was a sign of subservience. It hadn’t ever occurred to you that there could be respect in trusting someone else to go ahead. That the act of going first could be for protection and not power.

“Hey!”

You hurried to the fire escape, “yeah?”

“There’s a man asking for you. Tall guy named Frank?”

Frank?

Oh, Frank.

You’d forgotten about him. He’d left months ago. He was a whale, rich and generous. You took a moment to consider sitting down with him, smiling and laughing at his jokes, letting his hand settle on your thigh. It had been weeks since you entertained scamming anyone, and now you couldn’t even stomach the idea of faking interest in another man. Frank wasn’t one to scam, he just liked having a pretty lady on his arm to make him feel young and wanted, and in exchange you got into private parties and were gifted jewelry and clothing.

“Tell him I’m busy and send him off.” You hollered down. You could buy your own clothes. 

“Did he leave?” Alastor asked you the next morning, you leaning against the glass phone booth in the early morning light.

Your finger wrapped around the phone cord, “No of course not! They never do. I snuck out the back.”

There was a hum, “Well my dear, you’ve offered me a wonderful transition into my next question.” Alastor was sitting at his kitchen table, nervously turning his coffee cup around in circles, “Would you like to come over tomorrow night? I can pick you up after your show.”

Like a glacier drifting away from shore, you very slowly crouched down in the booth. “To your home?” 

“No, to Alabama.” He waited a beat, “Yes of course my home. I can show you what happens after I drive away.” A cheeky smile evident through his voice.

You pressed the phone receiver into your chest, teeth chewing on your bottom lip. What happens when he drives away? So…where the bodies go. But most importantly, the biggest part of this—where he lives. So much can be gleaned about someone from their home. A bookshelf alone could make or break an attraction. You brought the receiver back to your mouth. “Lovely! Sure thing— Alastor. Yes.” you almost added on an awkward nickname like daddy-o or mister man, like an idiot, because your brain was misfiring like you’d seen him in the sunlight again.

Ah, you could see his bed. 

Where he slept.

Did he ever dream of you?

What if it was terribly dirty? Could you still love him if he was a slob? 

“I’m quite far from downtown, pack an overnight bag, okay?” He stopped fidgeting with the mug. When the call ended he sat at the table for some time, staring around the kitchen. The home was large by city standards, but it was old. His mother’s charm was evident through every part. A finger scratched at the wooden table, heavy and solid. Why was his heart racing? 

He walked to the screened back door, looking from the weathered patio steps to the greenhouse. 

No one had ever been to his home. Ever. A teensy part of him was panicking. Was this a mistake? Was he going to fuck up the budding relationship? Throw off the peace of his safest place?

Budding. Okay that was ridiculous even for him. The kind of intimacy gained through murder did not allow any union to be called budding. He’d shared pieces of himself no other living soul knew of. Your image of him was possibly even more complete than his own mother had held, even though he tried to always be the most sincere with her. Even people he did care for and consider close friends had never knew where he lived. Never heard what kept him up at night. Never learned his distaste for a random lay.

Opening the screen door with a signature creak, the sound many southerners could call comforting, he walked to the greenhouse.

The newest part of the property, the glass walled structure was built shortly after his mother’s death. Double doors: locked. Just beyond the glass was a forest of plants and potted trees. They had no need for a greenhouse, but Alastor had a need for them.

He set about preparing his home for another occupant, a task that brought him such a shock of joy and anxiety he began to wonder who he was. New sheets on the bed, extra pillows set against his wooden headboard. Large glass jar in the backyard full of water and tea bags.

It was also unexpected he was thinking so much of his mother. In a perfect world she’d be there to greet you. Though if she was alive, he wouldn’t have been in that alley that night. He made a mental note to not mention his mother, at least not as much as he was remembering her as he walked around the two story home tidying.

Would he have met you if he wasn’t a killer? 

A flicker of fear was quickly extinguished by romance. Definitely. You both ran in the same scenes. He’d seen you before that night, he just never approached you. He hadn’t anticipated how much more you were than the facade you put on. Nothing about your sweet face said, ‘I have a high tolerance for murder.’

Alastor spent the day at work physically present but mentally pacing his living room. He nodded along to discussions of who was to be live on set next, smile never faltering as he worried if he had breakfast foods. He rarely ate breakfast, did you? How had he not thought to ask. Sloppy.

The only outward sign he was feeling any stress was the tapping of his finger on his desk, which he hadn’t even noticed until the stage manager commented.  

“Alastoooor,” her voice was high, like it seemed many women’s voices were recently. Was it a trend? “Impatient? Hot date with a young lady this evening?”

While she meant well, she always pried, always asked questions he didn’t appreciate. 

Alastor shook his head, smile strained. A perceptive person would have picked up on it, but Brenda was not perceptive.

“Oh.” A noticeable disappointment, “That’s boring.”

Actually on second thought maybe she didn’t mean well.

“I’ve had too much coffee, is all, Brenda.” He pulled his hand into his lap. “Was there anything you needed?” 

“No,” she pouted, much less endearing than you.

If he murdered purely for fun Debra would be dead before sunset. Unfortunately her only crime was being remarkably annoying.

Alastor waited behind the theater, where it was less likely any staff would see him. It was still important to avoid connecting the two of you together, at least at your workplace yet. 

He was quick to grab your bag for you.

“Not the trunk, please.” You said, it took him a second to catch the joke. He set it on the back seat after opening your door for you. You’d only been in his car a few times but he never failed to be a perfect gentleman. 

Your palms were sweating, when his hand rested on your leg while he drove you resisted the urge to hold it. Instead you slipped yours under his. Alastor asked you about your day, about work, about if Frank came back. Typically as soon as you left the theater you were in a cone of silence until your phone call with him the next day. It was kind of nice, having someone to speak to. Before meeting him there were times you worried you’d forget how to talk naturally, how to sound like yourself.

The glowing eyes of deer popped up from the side of the road, startling you. Eerie. You held your breath, would they run, stay still, or sprint into the road.

“Is it true their antlers can break car windshields?” You asked not breaking eye contact with a doe as you drove past.

Alastor nodded, “If a buck hits your car the wrong way, not even the car will make it out of the accident.”

“Are there a lot of bucks around?”

“Will be soon, as fall— wait why am I telling you this,” he laughed, “Miss Autumn Hind already knows what makes the bucks run wild.”

You shouldn’t be smiling, it was a dumb rut joke, but it felt like a compliment. 

The car lights passed over the home as he turned into the dirt driveway. Powder blue. It wasn’t a color you associated with Alastor. He was caramel, honey, midnight blue, red. His sometimes sinister smile didn’t look quite right against powder blue. But, for a home, it was lovely.

“Is someone home?” You saw a light on in an upstairs room.

Alastor reached behind you for your bag, “No, I leave it on when I’m gone. Gives the impression that the house isn’t empty.”

A minor bit of acting, Alastor opening the door and offering to bring your bag upstairs before a tour like a good host. His anxious energy was barely contained by that grin of his. For your part you played the appropriately impressed guest.

But deep down you were very impressed. An actual house. Your mother struggled to keep apartments rented. Alastor had a home. With stairs. That went to more home, not a neighbor. What a lovely thing. What did he do with all this space?

He could probably hide quite a few bodies in there.

Alastor opened his bedroom door and motioned for you to enter.

You took in every detail as shrewdly as you could. Two circular nightstands, a wide dresser with a few framed photos and a radio. One large window facing the yard, you could see the car outside from where you were standing. “Wow a man’s bedroom. I tend to avoid these.”

“What a coincidence, so do I. Bedrooms in general, really.” He placed your bag on the dresser, offering to unpack it for you. Your smile screwed up, shaking your head no. You couldn’t imagine Alastor folding your panties and setting them into a drawer. 

Well.

“Yes please.” You took a seat on the end of his bed, watching him tenderly empty the bag before beginning to put things away like you’d come home from a trip. “A bed big enough for two people. You didn’t tell me you were a fancy man. Ooh la la.”

Alastor laughed, “Your bed was quite comfortable.” He set your dress onto a hook attached to the closet door, hands running down the fabric to straighten out the wrinkles, “But I have a feeling that had more to do with you than anything else.”

The floor was clean, the rug beneath the bed a simple but pristine white. What an odd color for a rug.  

You truly did avoid men’s homes. The power dynamic shifts too much.

“Are all men so clean?”

“Oh god no. Have you really never been to a man’s home?” Without a moment of hesitancy his long fingers flattened out your underthings and neatly folded them. You could call it erotic, knowing what else his fingers could do.

A hum, you swayed side to side, “Too much risk. I don’t know where the knife drawer is, which locks stick, what windows open all the way.” 

He set the empty bag into a reading chair in the corner, “That sounds stressful.”

You shrugged, “My mother taught me to always have an escape. From situations, from rooms, from people. Not terrible advice.”

That was true, he thought. If the few women he killed had considered that, he would be less prolific. Women tended to be easier in some regards.

Alastor finally let himself look at you sitting on his bed. Were you wearing the black garters today? He liked those. He appreciated the red dress you’d worn.

Taking off his jacket and vest, he hung them up while his eyes kept returning to you. Your legs were crossed, thighs soft and pressed together. He remembered feeling them against his ears. A little cough to clear his throat and mind.

“Are you hungry?”

You werent, but you weren’t ready for sleep either, so you asked for some bread and butter. Alastor sat beside you at the table, watching you look around. It didn’t look like a killer's home. 

“Ya know, I was going to rob you. I had been wanting to talk to you, before that guy caught me off guard when I was smoking.” You said it easily. 

He smiled, “Oh, why’d you change your mind?”

“Well, you slit a man’s throat in front of me.”

“Tsk tsk, you give up too easily, my dear.”

Salted butter, soft bread. Simple. Happy. “You were so handsome-,”

“We’re?”

A snort of a laugh, rolling your eyes dramatically, “and you looked well off. I was searching the room for the lights reflecting off of your glasses all night.”

Alastor grimaced, fighting the well of his ego, and leaned on his elbows, “Is it too morbid to say I’m glad that man tried to kill you? I like this timeline more than being robbed and never seeing you again.”

“That’s very selfish. I would have enjoyed chasing you down and finessing your wallet off you.” You set the glass lid back over the butter dish, content with the snack. “Some men come back actually and confront me at the theater.”

He howled. The idea was ridiculous, “Seriously? Why not just tell the cops.”

“Men don’t like telling other men they got taken for a ride by a dame.”

Alastor stood, “What would you have done if you had robbed me and I marched into the theater demanding my cash back.” It took a second to realize he was being serious in wanting you to play along. 

You popped the last piece of bread into your mouth and stood too, “You rake!” A fake smack to his chest, “I booted you to the curb! You had more hands than an octopus!” 

Alastor tried to stay in character but his smile kept cracking through his serious face. “And my wallet? None of my hands can find it.” You took a few steps back, feigning shock at the accusation.

“Sir! You were so drunk I’m not surprised you lost it.” When Alastor closed the space between you with two wide steps and pulled you into his chest you giggled, hitting softly at him, “You should be ashamed of yourself. Trying to take advantage,” his hands wandered down your hips, making your voice catch in your throat, “of a good woman like me.”

His mouth came to your ear, “Well, miss, I think you owe me the opportunity to try again.”

You went stiff against him, the sudden turn of his voice into seduction taking you by surprise, “If you were a real mark, I’d punch you in the face for saying that.”

“But for me?” Breath against your neck.

Your hands slid up his chest and to his collar, pulling him down and into a kiss. His smile spread across your lips. 

His mouth stayed against your cheek as he pulled you into a hug, “Ready for bed?”

“Are you sleepy, hun?” You pulled away, a sincerely worried face. Two nights now you’d interrupted his normal routine.

Alastor’s eyes seemed to sparkle behind his glasses, head shaking, “No, not at all.” You felt the heat rise up your face. Wanting to avoid assumptions, you tried to temper your expectations.

His hand pulled you toward the stairs, you dragging your feet, “Did you want to show me around?”

“In the daylight.” He led you up the stairs and to the right.

“Oh okay….”, your mind was reeling, mouth dry. No dead body in sight. No blood. You hadn’t pressed him or asked for anything. Maybe he just wanted a good cuddle, or some kisses. You often enjoyed necking near the car before he would go home. Right. Let him lead.

You followed him, letting him guide you hand in hand back to his bedroom.

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar,@straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove@saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , @sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re , @asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp , @angelxx7 , @katgirl05 , @impulsivethoughtsat2am , @sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic