#my brain needs a tune up honestly

[sialater18]

I'll try to put this as succinctly as I can (which I'll probably fail at honestly) to explain why fans are upset, but this

because I thought that Alicent’s actions in it made a lot of sense honestly. Idk maybe it’s because it’s different from the book and I’ve never read the book

-is most definitely part of why you may not get it (and even then non-book readers have stated it doesn't make sense either). The show has failed in so many aspects that have ripple effects, ones that are simply not undeniable anymore. If I were to put it simply, the writing is nothing less than horrible for various reasons (lack of substantial political intrigue even tho the core of the story is political, misogyny, ableism, and likely unintended racism, etc.). Like this

ppl who don’t realize that Alicent choosing Helaena’s safety over her sons and Helaena willingly giving up her son to protect her daughter are direct parallels drives me crazy.

Ain't the case. It's not people "not realizing" this, this didn't occur at all. Her actions did nothing but result in giving up the lives of her entire family members, endangering them. Therefore the people who noticed this can tell the writers were trying to force parallels that don't work at all.

ppl berate Alicent in the finale for “choosing Rhaenyra”! Because she wasn’t choosing Rhaenyra, she was choosing her daughter!

People are rightfully berating her even if it hurts me to watch because she did in fact choose Rhaenyra. She didn't choose Helaena at all, she did the opposite. No logical person would go to the woman whom (as far as you know) is responsible for the brutal murder of their Daughter's son (your grandchild) to just further give up on your family. Which is part of the reason people are angry. That and they made what was supposed to be a politically intelligent character stupid, and nothing but a mouthpiece for the writers.

Her now being able to be at peace with Rhaenyra was an obvious benefit,

A benefit that isn't going to happen. This is another reason people are mad, logistically, that meeting didn't guarantee Peace in any way. She doesn't have that authority to begin with.

It’s all about making sacrifices as a mother.

Again, something she didn't even do here. Her sons' lives were not hers to offer on a platter.

society wants you to choose your sons, because they’re the heirs, and they’re the ones who are “more important”

This is true, and a different angle at this trope is something that could be interesting to take a crack at. It just isn't for this story at all.

And so Alicent and Helaena choosing their daughters was their rebuttal against the patriarchy, and the only one they could really make.

2 things here, Alicent didn't choose Helaena (she fucked her over instead), neither did Helaena "choose" her daughter. That's another part that the writers messed up. Jaehaera was never a factor regarding that in B&C. Blood & Cheese could have just checked which one of the twins was which (something GRRM himself pointed out because that writing choice was that stupid), but the writers decided to remove the Sophie's choice aspect of the whole event. Resulting in the entire thing being watered down and not impactful. Helaena didn't choose anything since they were always going to go after a son in the end anyhow. It wasn't a "rebuttal against the patriarchy" far from it.

it was also Alicent choosing her younger self.

I don't picture any younger version of herself setting up all her sons for murder (including her youngest Daeron and also in turn her Daughter and grand-daughter). I would love to know why you think this though.

So, she also chose herself over her sons. Which again, she never would have done if she wasn’t protecting Helaena

Again, she's not protecting her which is part of the reason why ppl were baffled about the whole thing.

She’s allowed to be selfish for once in her life. I was shocked by the amount of ppl who are self proclaimed “Alicent apologists” being annoyed once they perceived her as not a saint anymore.

She's allowed to be selfish in ways that make sense writing-wise. The Alicent apologists are not annoyed at not perceiving her as a "saint", they're just tired of the blatant sexist and nonsensical writing that was presented to them. Some are not going to bend over backward to excuse horrible (as well as disrespectful) writing.

And while she’s definitely not evil like her weird misogynistic haters make her out to be, she DOES have flaws.

Yeah, there was definitely a chunk of people that were like that during the first season. But if people are saying this after season 2, I wouldn't be able to say much back. Because no matter how you split it selling out the lives of your immediate family during a war (which you helped cultivate a little) for a woman who would never do the same for you, is evil.

She’s a genuinely complex character, which is the reason why I thought everyone who liked her liked her in the first place.

She is complex but this only works on a positive note if the writing is top-notch. If it isn't, all that's left is a mess of a character.

(Hope most of this made sense, if not I'll be happy to further elaborate because I honestly rushed writing most of this lol)

The amount of ppl who don’t realize that Alicent choosing Helaena’s safety over her sons and Helaena willingly giving up her son to protect her daughter are direct parallels drives me crazy. LIKE ITS SO OBVIOUS!!!!! And it’s such an important part of the message of the show and also Alicent’s character development!!!!

I think that’s why it makes me so mad when ppl berate Alicent in the finale for “choosing Rhaenyra”! Because she wasn’t choosing Rhaenyra, she was choosing her daughter! Her now being able to be at peace with Rhaenyra was an obvious benefit, because her love for Rhaenyra is also important, BUT she never would have made that choice for JUST Rhaenyra.

It’s all about making sacrifices as a mother. And how when it comes down to it, society wants you to choose your sons, because they’re the heirs, and they’re the ones who are “more important”. I mean, come on people, the reason why Aemma died is because Viserys was so obsessed with having a son. That’s a major part of the message about misogyny.

And so Alicent and Helaena choosing their daughters was their rebuttal against the patriarchy, and the only one they could really make.

And when it comes down to it, it was also Alicent choosing her younger self. This season also showed that Alicent really sees herself in her daughter, so in a way, choosing Helaena was also her way of making things up to her younger self. So, she also chose herself over her sons. Which again, she never would have done if she wasn’t protecting Helaena. But it annoys me when people call this selfish, because it’s like…. Yeah! She’s allowed to be selfish for once in her life. I was shocked by the amount of ppl who are self proclaimed “Alicent apologists” being annoyed once they perceived her as not a saint anymore. I also admired her love for her kids in the first season, but I’m also proud of how she’s growing to choose herself! And while she’s definitely not evil like her weird misogynistic haters make her out to be, she DOES have flaws. She’s a genuinely complex character, which is the reason why I thought everyone who liked her liked her in the first place.

But yeah it just annoys me when people say the finale was out of left field because I thought that Alicent’s actions in it made a lot of sense honestly. Idk maybe it’s because it’s different from the book and I’ve never read the book…

But during Blood and Cheese when Helaena chose her daughter I was like “I sense a parallel coming” … this is going to show Alicent something important… and I was not surprised when the parallel delivered 🤷

[astranauticus]

(spoilers up to orv chapter 270) (sort of?)

you ever just kinda. suddenly realise what you're listening to

[kissingarthurclaus]

Been talking to Nic and Ruby a little bit about this crush and BOYS I THINK I'M IN TROUBLE HERE 😳😳

[threadmonster]

... ... ... 'sup

[2kiran]

hiii hihihi 🫶🏽 got two things

first off, your blog was like my whole reason. honestly. idek how to put it, your writing is immaculate and if i’m gonna be completely honest i joined tumblr cuz of you lol, i don’t think that there’s like any better top male reader blog than yours icl. ‘preciate your writings a lot 🩶

second, if you can i do have a request; harddom!m!reader is asleep but wakes up to sub!keegan weakly bouncing on and cockwarming the reader, with some overstim + a lottt of orgasm denial, so much that keegan passes out and they both fall back asleep together. oh yeah, and the amount of times he’s denied orgasm we carve tallies into him (knife kink omfffhg). pretty much it !

may i also be ⛓️‍💥 anon?

2knote. hello?? thank you so much. I’m very honored, you’re wayy too kind for this. and yeah, absolutely. ⌖ RATED XPLICIT 18+

Awakening to a familiar heat, snug and slick, it has blood rush south of your body and thicken your cock with veritable, unadulterated desire—Wait, what?

You jolt, the action met with a breathless whimper and calloused palms land on your chest. The veil of tranquil slumber lifted, rapidly clearing the murk which had formed in your brain. Your eyes snap wide open, a ragged gasp tearing itself from your throat.

“What the—” You inhale, gaze adjusting to the darkness and soon trailing to the area in between Keegan’s thighs. His hips never paused, lacking strength in his grinds that are too weak to be proper bounces, to be anything. “—fuck are you doing?”

The male in question, Keegan, shamefully mewled upon registering the scratchy rumble of your hoarse voice. He clenched, pornography-worthy in how he’s so fucking tight, and he knows it. He takes advantage of the sweet, promising grip of his hole to greedily take all of you in for his own pleasure.

“I’m sorry,” Keegan whines, rolling forward, your tip nudging his prostate. “Ngh, I n-need you, I–”

He’s interrupted by his own moan, husky and wanton. He breathes out, slowly, his hole peppering kisses along the bulging veins of your cock in abrupt, wet squeezes. His thighs tremble from having to keep himself upright, legs aching as he raises his ass to ride you, only for you to bottom out when his knees buckle.

“Stop.”

He stiffens, his puzzled brain glueing the missing scraps of his intellect together as he fumbled to submit. Keegan’s pupils dilated, pinkish hue dusting his cheeks pretty, and he anticipated with bated breath. His mouth fell agape, senses consumed by the primal function to take what you offer him.

The sensitive head of his cock sobbed with lust, the entire length glistening with arousal. “You’re not cumming ‘till I say you can,” you announce with a hum, shifting to reach for the knife by the nightstand. It was originally intended for precaution, though it wasn’t necessary when you’re entirely protected by the man drunk off your dick.

But with the newfound alternative, it’s used more than it should be. “You got it?”

Keegan had the urge to cry out in frustration. He’s been so good for you, so patient. You should—no, you have to give him what he wants. He doesn’t have an ounce of true brattiness left in him to tell you that, his response a simple nod.

His eyes catch onto the swift movement of you twisting the handle in your grip, the known material like daily clothing now. “Answer.”

He gasps in surprise, goosebumps lapping feverishly at his skin. The warning is immediate, a press of the side of the blade against his bare thigh, the steel freezing and sinister. “Y-yes.”

Yes, but, a train of thoughts driven by desperation begins to rule his mind, I’m so fucking close. I need you to fuck me, not this. Damn it. Outwardly, his eyebrows are drawn together in an angered line.

You hum a light tune, Keegan’s expressions—ones of filthy nature—are comprehensible notes you can play even if you aren’t a musician. Unceremoniously, the knife is angled to the inner side of his thigh and you plunge it in without further consideration. It eagerly breaks skin, his leg jerks and he yelps in surprise, causing the weapon to draw a blood-dotted slash.

“Ahhng- fuck! Wh..what?” Keegan cries out, the pain a suffocating bandage that seizes his form within a death-guaranteed clutch. It hurts, overriding the separator of agony and rapture. You thrust into him, effectively quieting him down to a gasp. “Shut up and fuck yourself on me, yeah?”

His bottom lip quivers, his hands cautiously roam your build until they curl around the framing of your shoulders. God, the emotions stirring in his marathon-beating heart makes it all too easy for him to obey, to have him move his hips like a mutt.

Keegan leans forward, and you tilt your head off the side to offer him access. He takes it, nuzzling his cheek against your neck. The puff of breath he releases is shaky, wobbly as though he was willing himself not to cry.

Mustering up the vitality, he rises until his entrance is swallowing the very tip of your dick. Something heated crimps in the depths of his guts, twisting in compressed knots that threaten to unwind.

It intensifies as he flings himself down, dragging out a raspy moan of “Hmmng-!” with letters of your name added in-between pathetic grunts. He greedily takes in your length, his sudden clenching earns him a long groan. “C’mon... do it. Ride my cock, Kee.”

That was a threat. He whimpers, his head swinging side to side, “I’m, I’m gonna cum. Please, fuck.”

Whick!

Beside the new wound, you swing the knife along the pure skin. The cut is deeper, and he nearly screams.

Thick, red fluid oozes out, gruesome beads sticking to the steel. Pre-cum drips from Keegan’s slit, his hips grinding forward to maintain the contact, the friction burning away the discomfort. “What did I tell you?” You wrench a hand into his hair, yanking him back. Your teeth descend into a particularly sensitive area on his throat, sucking in an angry marking.

His hole reacts to your borderline aggressiveness in rhythmical spasms, ones that tell you he’ll tip over the edge. It wasn’t his fault he was close to bursting any second. You’re too mean, never allotting him the time that’ll grant him recovery.

And he has too many blood that he’ll let you waste.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“Hagh... nnmm...”

There’s a feeble ringing in Keegan’s head, the deprivation of flowing life pumping inside of him drowning out anything ever-rational. Your own legs were tainted with a rather disgusting combination.

Harsh lines were indented into the strong layer of his inner thigh, sticky fluid pooling beneath him. A barrier of haze was trapped in his brain, resulting in him losing track of the amount of cuts you’ve inflicted on him.

Has it been four? Six? Perhaps nine?

A mortified wave sweeps across his features. He feels like a cheap, good-for-two-dollars whore.

Yet it feels so fucking good. The risk, the hefty lust blanketing the both of you—all of it. Your release steadily leaked out, a creamy sheen surrounding the base of your length.

A weak moan is what he’s only able to free when the blade sinks into him again, inches dividing the weapon from his core. He’s aching to the point he’s past pleasure, tears streaming down his cheeks as he falls limp against you.

Keegan has been wrapped around your thick cock for longer than he ever has, and he hasn’t cum once - until your rough hand coils to squeeze his shaft, wrist working up and down into slow, calculated strokes that rush him to completion. “Fu-uck, thank you, nfghh shit, t-thank you.” He groans, long and almost a desperate growl. Arousal zaps up his muscled, scarred back lightning-quick.

Hot, blinding white clasps its iron-grip on his wet dick, pearly strands finally, finally shooting out and his rim clenches down tight around you. But you don’t relent. Not yet.

You tug and tug and tug him through his high, forcing him to choke on a split whimper. “Too...” he exhales, torn between rocking into your palm or shoving himself away, “t-too, hfmm, much.”

It aches. His body tightens, tension hinged at his joints and locks until he’s aching. This time, he doesn’t anticipate it when it arrives. He quakes violently against your form, eyes rolling back into his skull, soft sobs echoing throughout the space separating the two of you. “Take it. You can handle this much, can’t you?”

He whines, the sound weak in volume. Your palm is continuously coated with slickness, smearing the wetness each time your stroke reaches the narrow entrance, pressing on it firm enough to reward yourself with his almost-pained grunt. Keegan squirms, attempting to worm his way free from your intoxicating grasp.

God, fuck, his dick is so sore from your torture. Darkness dots the corners of his eyes, his vision beginning to swim. The sensation of your hand clenching around his length fades, disappearing into the void of his blank-state mind. He faintly senses himself twitching, cum splattering on his thighs and on you. With one last exhausted whimper, dreamless fog consumes him entirely.

You set aside the knife, the item in your hand replaced by a towel. Your thumb circles mindless patterns on his nape, rocking him to sleep. Wiping him off, he stirs slightly.

“Hmmm?” He mutters, consciousness slipping into him again.

“Go back to sleep.” You shush, cleaning yourself up before you toss the dirtied rag away and gently lay him next to you.

Keegan nods, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulls you close to him. A tired, gentle smile rests on his lips before he whispers; “G’night.”

[selineram3421]

*has an idea* ....shit.

Tune On In

Prolouge

Alastor X Human Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ Can't think of any. Italics= thoughts ⚠

You had this strange ability since you were little.

Whispers, voices and other strange noises. It was something you could hear in the back of your mind.

The first time it happened was when you were six. You were playing in the living room of your home when the radio turned on, screams and other strange noises you'd hear on scary movies. You ran to your parents and told them, but when you brought then to the radio, all they could here was music playing.

"No more scary movies for you!", your mother said and left the room.

Your father sighed and pat your head.

"It was probably some metal music, don't worry too much and change the station.", he said before also leaving the room.

You were left with a now quiet radio.

There were no more screams or splattering sounds, instead there was humming.

"Hmhmmhm~"

As time passed, you eventually stopped telling your parents. They only gave each other concerned glances and once one of the whispers told you that they were thinking of putting you in an asylum.

For your safety, you had to just bear the strange noises.

.

It was when you were in your early twenties that you heard something on the radio, it having stopped for seven years.

The small radio on your work desk turned on and a man's voice went through.

"Salutations!"

"Turn off that music! I'm on a call!", screeched one of your coworkers.

You rushed to lower the volume but continued to listen in.

"Yes, I know it's been a while since someone with style treated Hell to a broadcast."

Hell? You thought.

"Sinners, rejoice!"

You heard him start to dis someone named Vox and honestly, you didn't need to hear the other half of the conversation to know that the radio man was winning.

"Oh, this will be fun~", the radio man finished.

It stopped after he laughed, then you could hear the normal music playing again.

Turning around, you apologized about the radio being too loud. "Sorry! I forgot that I had the volume on high."

After work, you decided to tap into your curiosity. Now you knew that the whispers and strange radio broadcasts were not normal at all, but you never tried to speak back to it.

Sure, the whispers would warn you about people and other things, but you never acknowledged the voices.

Maybe.. Maybe I can see why I'm hearing things. You thought.

Once in your apartment, you tinkered with the radio a bit and turned to the station you normally heard the radio man spoke from. Putting up the volume, all you could hear was static but that soon changed when you tapped your small microphone.

"Hello?"

The static stopped and all went quiet.

"Hello?"

*sighs* Fucking shit. This might take a while to update because this is brand spanking new. I have no notes on this. It just slammed into my brain.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

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ML II Alastor🎙 | ---

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | may i have this dance?

♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, The Boy, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair, Brahms Heelshire

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; none really!!

♡notes; this popped into my brain the other day and i thought we were due for some fluff. i’m writing part two congruently so that’ll be posted soon too!!

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Micheal Myers

> Micheal Myers does not dance

> He doesn’t know how, and he doesn’t want to learn

> But like with a lot of things, you get him to bend his rules

> He has a habit of looming in doorways to watch you

> At first it’s disconcerting, but you learn it’s just how he is

> So you pay him no mind as he’s watching you dance around the kitchen to some song that’s too popular for him to know

> Sweet and silly and carefree…

> He clicks the speaker off with a quiet huff

> “Hey, I was listening to that-“ You pout

> He rolls his eyes and puts on something a bit more to his taste

> And before you can playfully complain any more, he wraps his arms around you from behind and sways softly

> It takes a second for you to process it- he’s not normally so…gentle

> But in his own weird little way, he’s dancing with you

> He tenses a bit when you turn around- he’s embarrassed but would never admit it- but when you kiss his cheek he relaxes and gives a quiet hum

>And he keeps swaying as you lay your head on his chest

>Just for you, as long as you don’t tell anyone…Micheal Myers does dance. Just a little.

Thomas Hewitt

> Thomas doesn’t think about dancing

> He’s seen it on TV, read about it in books…but the Hewitts aren’t really the dancing types

> Nearest thing to dancing that he can think of ever doing is being held by his mama, when she’d sing and rock him when he was hurt or upset

> And it’s been a long time since anyone could hold him like that

> But one day you’re upset- he doesn’t know why but you burst into tears the moment he walked in, and it has him in a tizzy

> He quickly scoops you up, checking for any injuries but…nothing. You’re just crying and he hates seeing you like that

> So he does what used to make him feel better

> He can’t sing- or at least won’t, his words are always few and far between- but he hums, low and rumbling in his chest

> As he holds you and slowly sways you start to calm down

> You sniffle and all of the sudden giggle

> “Thomas Hewitt; are you dancin’ with me right now?”

> He looks confused but slowly nods as he thinks about it

> “Well thank you. I needed this.”

> He nuzzles you and continues until you’re calm- and far after that if you’ll let him

Bubba Sawyer

> As we know, Bubba is a very sheltered fellow, but he does like dancing!

> He’s not particularly coordinated but he doesn’t need much coaxing to twirl you around and around

> He’ll dance without music, humming a nonsense tune to you, maybe even whistling

> And if you sing to him he can’t help grinning and giggling

> It’s not uncommon for him to sway and spin with you in the living room if the radio got left on

> And he gets shy when you’re caught by one of his brothers

> “Bubba you stop wasting time, you little—“

> You cock your hip and give Drayton a cold look

> “Oh, I’m a waste of time now, cook?”

> Like always a smart remark goes a long way with Drayton, the twins immediately “oooh”ing and teasing him as he flusters

> Soon enough he’s chasing them out cursing and wielding a pair of tongs

> Leaving you and Bubba forgotten and free to sneak off and continue your fun in peace

Vincent Sinclair

> You’d have to ask

> Probably more than once, honestly

> Vincent is an artistic man, that’s not a doubt in the slightest- but he’s not even a little interested in anything that involves performance

> But you have a way of getting your way with him

> “Vince baby?”

> “…”

> “Pretty please?”

> “…”

> “If we take pictures then you can paint us.”

> He perks up a bit and you know you’ve got him

> “Cmon silly!” You drag him into the house of Wax, camcorder in hand

> Having gotten that far, you finally realize you don’t particularly know how to dance either, not really

> But you don’t tell him that, instead turning on the music and pulling him against you

> You’re clumsy and awkward and adorable as you spin around with him, not even a bit embarrassed

> He isn’t sure the reference stills are usable, but he’s more than happy the sweet moment on camera

Brahms Heelshire

> Brahms treats you like royalty- whatever you want is yours

> So if you say you’d like to go dancing, he is more than happy to arrange something

> Though of course, he doesn’t like leaving home… no matter. There’s plenty of room in the manor

> He makes a date out of it- he’s prone to making dates out of lots of silly things

> Silly or not, it’s sweet, and as always you fawn over him and praise him for the thoughtfulness

> He even bought you a cute outfit for the occasion - he loves dolling you up (pun slightly intended)

> After setting the music he bows and offers his hand- being a rich brat he knows a bit of ballroom dancing

> He’s more than happy to teach you, humming “1-2-3” with your steps

> But he’s laughing and giggling and just can’t stop gushing over how cute you are

> So if you fall into slow dancing like it’s the prom, he doesn’t mind

> Any dance with you is more than he can ask for

[lnfours]

doll | l.n

summary: ‘i’m not even joking when i say i’ve fallen in love w the way you write lando you have me giggling every single time and i love it - i’m not sure if your requests are open rn, but cld i request a lando x reader enemies to lovers kinda vibe? honestly whatever you wanna go with is fine but i need need tooth rotting fluff rn so maybe he has a nickname for her that only he uses and there’s a lot of oblivious-ness from both of them over the fact that they like each other :’‘)’ - @mars-dreamworld

warnings: fluff, language, enemies to lovers, female!racer, just overall a whirlwind of emotions. strap in.

masterlist | ask box 💌

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

lando norris was absolutely, most definitely, 100% the most insufferable person you had ever met.

in the beginning of the year, mclaren had announced that you’d be joining the team as a third driver, and of course people men took it to social media to express how they felt women didn’t belong in the sport. that racing was a ‘real man’s’ sport.

and now you needed to prove them all wrong, prove you were worth your spot on the team. you know you didn’t have to, that it wouldn’t necessarily change people’s minds, but you worked hard to be here. countless sleepless nights, crashes, tunings, everything, was worth this moment.

and now it was your chance. oscar had ended up with an injury after a crash in one of the practice races over the weekend, ultimately giving you his spot until he was recovered.

you and lando hadn’t really gotten along. you had found yourself battling with him on the track, the two of you going head to head in the garage after practices. you had thought his ego and his sarcasm was unattractive, whereas he simply just saw you as a threat.

but, deep down, he had a soft spot for you that he kept buried under the fake hatred. he didn’t actually hate you, who could? he admired your hard work and dedication, but be couldn’t help but feel like you were trying to take his spot.

“what the fuck, norris?!” you yelled, throwing your helmet to the ground as you stormed over to him. he wore a smug look on his face that you would’ve found attractive if it weren’t for the fact that he felt the need to cut you off in turn 5.

“what?”

“are you thinking with your brain or your dick?!” you shoved his chest, but he didn’t move a muscle. he didn’t even budge, just looked down at you with those stupidly gorgeous green eyes.

“you’d know if i was thinking with my dick, doll.”

“don’t call me that.” you gave him a hard look and he put his hands up in fake surrender, shaking them like he was scared.

and that’s where it all started, that stupid fucking nickname. every time he said it, it made your blood boil, made you want to connect your knee with his crotch. now that he knew how to press your buttons, he wasn’t ever going to let you live.

right now, your face was red as your blood boiled, sitting in the drivers room as your leg bounced. the two of you had it out again today, the crew immediately separating the two of you and telling you both to knock it off.

the embarrassment from your crew telling you to quit acting like a child replayed in your head the rest of the day and as you sat in drivers room, and slowly your anger turned into sadness. you sucked in a shaky breath, trying to keep your composure, but you failed. the tear rolled down your cheek and you sniffled to yourself.

but of course, the door opened at the wrong time, causing you to wipe your cheeks quickly before looking at who decided to barge in. your eyes met lando’s green ones, which immediately softened upon looking at you.

“can i help you with something?”

he licked his lips, his brain going a mile a minute. why were you crying? was it because of him? fuck.

“i uhm,” he stammered over his words, letting out a breath before speaking, “are you crying?”

you shook your head, wiping your cheek on the shoulder of your race suit, “no.”

he knew better, though. the door closed behind him as he sat across from you, “you don’t have to lie, y/n.”

the way your name sounded rolling off his tongue with that stupid accent made your stomach do flips, but you refused to give in. this is what he wanted, right? pull you close enough to destroy you and prove to everyone that you’re actually not good enough to be here.

“why do you care?” you asked, an eyebrow raising, “it’s not like you actually give a fuck, so can you go somewhere else with your fake sympathy?”

he immediately got defensive, “what makes you think i don’t care about you? would i have run over to you the other day at practice when you crashed if i didn’t care about you?”

you thought back to last week, your car going into the barrier on the track. lando had seen the crash, immediately following the crew onto the track and ignoring the drop in his stomach. you had climbed out, shaken up but okay when he reached you. he grabbed onto your shoulders after you tugged your mask and helmet off, your eyes distant as he searched them.

“y/n?” his voice was laced with concern, “y/n, are you okay?”

you snapped out of it, meeting his eyes before you looked down at your body, “i think so…?”

he grabbed your face into his hands gently, turning your face side to side as he tried to examine you. the medics pulled up, rushing over to you.

“it’s okay, we’ve got it from here.” the female said to lando. he hesitated before he let go, letting them lead you over to the back of the ambulance to check you over. you looked back at him, the feeling of his hands on your cheeks lingering as they ushered you in.

you looked back at the brit, shrugging, “i dunno.”

he chuckled, but it wasn’t laced with humor, more like disappointment, “okay,”

“why would i think that when you’re always trying to prove that you’re better than me?”

he didn’t say anything, looking down at the tile floor, “because i’m threatened by you.”

you scoffed, “tell me something i don’t know.”

“no, you don’t get it,” he said, sitting up again, “i’m threatened by you because you’re good. you’re insanely good. you race well, you train hard, everyone here loves you, the fans. you’re an inspiration. something i’ve always wanted to be for someone.”

your attitude shifted, looking over at the boy across from you. he wore a sad, regretful face as he played with the zipper on his suit.

“you’re an inspiration, lando,” you said, “the little boy who dressed up like you the other day? the one who said he wanted to be just like you?”

he shrugged, “one boy compared to thousands of little girls who see themselves in you. i know i shouldn’t be upset, you’re literally changing history, but seeing it makes me wish i was someone like you.”

“you’re right, you’re not like me,” you said, moving to sit next to him, “you’re lando norris, the one who got P2 in your home grand prix a few weeks ago, the one who goes out of their way to say hi to literally all the fans and take pictures with them. you’re literally someone’s ray of sunshine.”

he smiled softly, letting you continue, “be like you. don’t be like me, lan.”

his head snapped up at the nickname, “did you just call me ‘lan’?”

a smile spread across his face and you let out a soft laugh, “i guess i did.”

he smiled back, “thank you, though. i needed that. and, i’m sorry for how i’ve been towards you.”

you waved him off, the smile still playing at your lips. you tried to bite it back with your lower lip tucked between your teeth. he swore his heart skipped a beat at the sight. you nodded your head softly, “we’re cool. just pipe down the ego a bit, yeah?”

he let out a chuckle. being this close to him made you realize there was a hint of blue in his green eyes, the short stubble growing back from where he had shaved his facial hair. he was undeniably pretty and you were getting wrapped up in him and distracted. he was doing the same, his eyes scanning over every single one of your facial features as he tried his hardest to memorize them.

you smiled softly, “why’re you looking at me like that?”

he smirked, “you mean the same way you’re looking at me?”

you blushed, turning away from him but his eyes were still locked onto you. you went to stand up, smiling softly at him as it was nearing the beginning of the next race.

“i’ll see you out there.”

he smiled, “see you out there, doll.”

you shook your head, letting out a soft laugh as you let the door close behind you, the nickname no longer making your blood boil but suddenly making your stomach do flips.

lando norris was going to be the death of you.

[xoxo-sarah]

Red

↝a/n: I didn't quite execute this though the way I wanted to :// reader is in the band with Eddie.

↝pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

↝warning: slight innuendo ?, not proofread , Steve is down bad ngl

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Steve Harrington, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 12.28.24

"C'mon, man." Steve rolled his eyes at Eddie's pleading, honestly tired of hearing the man's voice. It was the same question every Friday. "It'll be fun, I promise, man." Eddie glanced at his band setting up in the garage, Steve's eyes following. You stood in front of the drums, your legs blocking the words "Corroded Coffin" made out of tape on the bass drum. You pushed your hair out of your face, placing some of the teased hair behind your pierced ear. "You need to loosen up, bud."

Steve eyes traced your figure, the way the white tank top hugged your curves. Bright red could be seen through the thin fabric. He hasn't talked to you much, but he couldn't help his eyes lingering every time you were around. He wanted to talk to you. He just never got around to it. Maybe he was intimidated. Eddie would say so.

Eddie could pinpoint when Steve had taken an interest in you. It was the second you met. Eddie had introduced you as "Red". The nickname settled on Steve's tongue, tingling like poprocks. You had been nicknamed that because you always has to have some sort of red on. If the outfit is all black, there's a red bracelet or earrings. You had a pair of red converse that you wore all of the time. Steve took notice of how warn out they were getting, feeling the urge to buy a new pair for you.

Eddie patted Steve shoulder, getting his attention back.

Steve reluctantly agreed. He tried to get Robin to go with him, so he wouldn't have to suffer alone. But she always found an excuse. He silently cursed her under his breath as bodies pressed against his in the small bar. He tried to make it to the backstage, looking for Eddie, the person who got him into this mess. Just as he got to the stage, the lights went dark. many of the drunk people continued to talk amongst themselves as the band came on stage.

Steve's mouth fell agape at your stage presence. Eddie watched as Steve watched you walk around the stage, captivating everyone's attention just by your voice.

Steve couldn't help but watch your every move. The rest of the band were tuned out from his mind; you and only you clouding his mind.

You went from banging your head back and forth with the music, to standing walking around the stage, eyes with a hazed look.

You eventually got so into the song that your hand roams your body, pulling up the black tank top, showing everyone the red, lacy bra. Steve swears he felt his breath hitch. He could practically feel the fabric against his fingertips.

As the song reached its climax, Steve felt his heart race in sync with the pounding drums. He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, mesmerized by your energy and confidence. The way you commanded the stage was unlike anything he'd ever seen.

Days after, Steve makes his way to the house where the band practices, standing around awkwardly. The guys look at him, amused. "Here to see Red?" Eddie chuckled, yanking the guitar pick out from his amused lips. Steve ignored the looks from the group around him. He wasn't here to be judged, he simply wanted to see you- he needed to see you.

"Where is she?"

Eddie nodded towards the door that connected from the garage to the house. As if on cue, you opened the door, stepping out in an all black outfit. It was more comfortable than what you wore at the show, not as snug on your figure. Your face was bare of the dramatic make-up from a few nights ago. Steve couldn't tell which look he liked more.

He couldn't help the way his mind went to what exactly you wore that was red. Was it the same bra? You didn't seem to have anything else that was visible. Your earrings are small, little silver moon crescents, no necklace decorating your neck.

"Harrington." You acknowledged, before handing out the cans of soda.

"Red," the nickname fell from his lips like he had been the one to make it up. It felt natural spilling from his mouth. "Can I, uh, can I talk to you?"

You looked up, feeling multiple pairs of eyes on you, anticipating your next move. "Sure." You threw the last can of soda through the air, having Eddie curse you as he caught it.

Steve felt a rush of excitement as you agreed to talk. The way you tossed that can to Eddie was so effortlessly cool, and he couldn't help but admire you even more.

You walked further down the pavement, leading away from the open garage. Steve stuck his hands in his front pockets, mind whirling.

"I saw you at the show the other night." Metal and Rock music wasn't something Steve usually listened to, but that might very well change.

Steve quickly nodded, hoping his face wasn't as red as your bra had been. "Yeah, Eddie forced me to go. I can't hate him for it, I had fun."

You smiled, biting your bottom lip lightly, "That's good. You should come to the next one."

"I'll think about it." God, of course he'll be there. Will he be paying attention to the words and music? No. "I actually wanted to ask you something."

You raised your brows, encouraging him to continue.

"Uh," suddenly, the concrete under his shoes was interesting. "I was wondering if you're free this Friday."

Your mouth opened, eyes searching his shy ones. "We actually have a show."

"Oh, yeah. Okay," He nodded, trying to play it off.

"But," you stepped forward, "I'm free after the show. Maybe you should come watch and we can go somewhere after."

Steve's face lit up, his heart racing as he processed your words. Relief washed over him, mingling with a surge of excitement. He couldn't believe his luck. "Yeah, I'd like that," he managed to say, trying to keep his voice steady. He admired how your face looked with no crazy eyeshadow and lipstick to distract from the color of your eyes. The natural pink of your lips captivated him. His tongue darted out to lick his dry lips.

You smiled, standing on your toes to bring your face closer to his. Your lips plants a quick peck on his crimson cheek.

As he walked away, his mind was a blur of thoughts about Friday. The anticipation of spending more time with you made his heart feel light, and he couldn't help but smile to himself. The concrete under his feet didn't seem so interesting anymore; all he could think about was you and the possibilities of what might happen after the show. God, he hoped you wore that red, lacy bra again.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[vietcrepes]

moments with the sbg characters that made one of you wonder — is there more between you two?

◡ ✶ featuring: the main 6 from school bus graveyard

notice board: gn!reader as always, logan is ooc, so is aiden lowk, this is not my best work (💔), not proof read, mentions of food in logan taylor n tyler's part, the occasional swear word

◡ ✶ word count: im just a girl

୨୧ ASHLYN BANNER

you two were killing time before ashlyn's ballet lesson, although her mom was nowhere to be found. "shit, I need to do my hair" ashlyn muttered, returning to her room where you were scrolling through instagram. peeking behind the pillow you were rested against, a light bulb formed.

"I'll just do your hair, what could go wrong?" to be fair, you've had a fair amount of experience doing hair, and considering how long ashlyn's was, it'd either be a dream or nightmare to style. for your sake, let's say it was the former.

so that's how ashlyn landed sitting in front of you, sat between your legs as you attempted to replicate the hairstyle you'd seen ashlyns mom do so many times before. "thanks for doing this" she spoke up, her limbs felt frozen. she's very in tune with her emotions, but this one she couldn't figure out. why was she so nervous around you suddenly? it's not like this is anything new or out of her comfort zone. it's her hair, it's constantly being done by other people.

"it's no problem, you know im always there for you, right?" you stated, not thinking much of it, but ashlyns brain was put in overdrive. she tried rationalizing it, you were attractive. normal people are usually nervous and flustered around attractive people. yeah. that's exactly it. by the time you finished doing her hair, ashlyn had two explanations for what she was feeling. either she was just flustered by your kindness or she was flustered by you.

the last smile you sent her way answered which one it was as she entered ballet class with one question in mind, how?

‧˚₊꒷ click for the rest!

୨୧ AIDEN CLARK

"let's go to the fair" replayed in your mind as aiden clark dragged you to the brightly colored festivities. he had asked you at 6pm, when you had already decided to eat dinner and play games on your phone for the rest of the day. you trudged along, squeezing your eyes shut to adjust to the harsh lights.

your sordid mindset about the fair quickly changed in the face of the countless plushies and games to be won. sure, they were rigged, but who cares? you were getting ready to play your 4th game of the night when you felt a tug on your sleeve.

"let's go on that ride" aiden's eyes sparkled and had a shine brighter than any of the nauseating fair lights as he pointed to the biggest ride in the damn park. honestly, you should've known this was going to happen... it was only a matter of time

"aiden, no-" you paused, wondering how the hell you were going to talk aiden out of a premature death by rollercoaster. oddly enough, you didn't have to. aiden dropped your sleeve as he returned to helping you with whatever game you wanted to play, a smile dawning his face like always.

this cycle continued for the rest of the night, aiden trying to drag you to the insanely large rides, you declining in favor of something tamer or, even better, something that wasn't a ride at all. by the end of it you had managed to evade every death defying ride available. "well that was fun!" aiden said, looking up at the sky as the two of you headed home. your reply was laced with confusion, "even if you didn't get to ride those things from hell?" masked as a joke, it didn't take a genius to know that it was odd for aiden to listen to others so easily.

"who cares about some ride?" he said, kicking a rock that had come across his path, "I didn't go to the fair for the rides, I went there to hang out with you" the gesture was sudden, and you avoided looking at him due to the sudden nature.

"what the hell is wrong with you..." aiden only grinned further at your meager attempt at an insult "I'm great, what do you mean?"

୨୧ BEN CLARK

ben had recently broken his earbuds. it wasn't news to him, they were old but even with the damage it was still usable. soon enough, the daily annoyances that came with using anything broken got to him. today especially, as his earbuds were officially rendered useless and his mood turned sour.

as luck would have it, today was a free work day in class (aka do whatever the hell you want). while his other classmates chatted away, he was taking a nap. at least, he was. a post-it note hit his desk, and he quickly recognized your handwriting. 'you look like you've been in an off mood lately, so I got you a gift!' he failed to register just what the hell you meant until a brand new set of earbuds appeared in front of him.

looking up, he found you beaming down at him. he pulled out a pen, his mind running as he attempted to analyze what this could mean. you took a seat in the desk next to his and watched intently as ben unwrapped and got a feel for the new earbuds. they were nice quality, similar to his old ones but worlds better. it had been a well thought out, attentive, and all in all considerate gift. the more he registered what was happening the quicker his heart paced. he scribbled on the same post-it you had handed to him.

'thanks, i appreciate it'

୨୧ TAYLOR HERNANDEZ

you were exhausted, working at your family business had driven you insane and constantly picking up calls to be met with bitter temperament surely wasn't helping. you had just finished up a rather mundane task, and were ready to enjoy the few minutes of rest as you pulled out a book. unfortunately, the business phone rang. you groaned, dealing with people who couldn't even hear you properly through the ancient box that was the business phone was not your thing. you let the phone ring for a bit before answering, quickly going through the "how may I help you" line you've repeated countless times today.

"it's taylor hernandez, is Y/N working today?" the bright voice chirped, and you bit back a smile "this is Y/N, what do you need tay?" you leaned back in your chair.

"oh that's great! take a look outside" taylor abruptly hung up, leaving you confused as you glanced through the windows. there, in all her glory, was taylor holding a bag of your favorite food place. you knew she was working at her mechanics shop that day, so why would she go out of her way to spend her lunch break (and money) on you? the questions were left unanswered as taylor walked in, beaming and graciously handing you the bag.

a quick glance and you recognized it, your exact order from this place. you never recalled telling taylor what your regular order was, but you didn't have the opportunity to ask questions as she was gone as quickly as she came. your relatives and the regulars quickly swarmed you with questions. namely "is that your girlfriend?" obviously, you had denied all the allegations, but you couldn't ignore the part of your brain that wanted to tell them that you two were dating.

୨୧ TYLER HERNANDEZ

you and tyler weren't close, but the two of you were tasked with a quick snack run since the seven of you had emptied the kitchen in aidens house. it was comfortable silence, and you briskly walked to the nearby convenience store, hands in your pockets to ensure you wouldn't lose the precious money given to you. all was going as expected, idle chat filling the physical space between you two until tyler slowed his pace.

he grabbed your arm, his hold gentle and his eyes directed away from you, as he moved behind and next to you. now, he was walking next to the bustling traffic and you were trailing behind, dazed and confused.

"what are you doing? hurry up before aiden starts texting me complaints" tyler called back, clearing his throat and covering a part of his face. if you looked closely enough, you could see a dark red hue resting on his ears.

"right, sorry" you mutter in apology before going on to talk about which candies to get. a part of your brain didn't move on from the event that had occurred though, and the fluttering feeling you felt only confirmed things further; you fucked around and found out (caught feelings).

୨୧ LOGAN FIELDS

the two of you had decided to a bit of research on possible explanations and something logical behind the phantom realm you'd found yourself in. countless websites had been pulled up, and a quick trip to the library had proven fruitless, ending up with the two of you getting some food to raise your spirits.

as you nibbled away at your cookie, you scribbled nonsensically. "find something?" logan asked, joining you on his bedroom floor. "yeah, a really bad drawing of a phantom" you said, ripping the page out of your notepad and passing it to him. you sighed, ruffling your hair as your brain reached mental capacity.

mindlessly brushing off any possible cookie crumbs from your face, you redirected your attention to the only website that has given much of any information about your situation. it was bleak, but it was better than nothing. "you missed something" logan pointed out, and your eyes darted through the website, hoping for some new discovery. you were only met with his smile as he reached his hand up to brush away the crumbs you had missed in your haste.

"... oh" you said, swatting away his hand as he laughed, both of you having pink hues that were blissfully dismissed. after all, you two were just friends. but it was odd, how that moment had led to you both being clumsy in the midst of the groups midnight adventures, and how everyone had noticed how the air shifted between you two.

writers note: referenced red's Instagram stories for ashlyns bit and it helped a ton 😭 some of these have happened to me irl but I had to change things up a bit to keep it interesting 😷 hopefully it turned out good enough tho, I got carried away with aiden's bit. i dedicated my entire soul into this Tumblr algorithm do me a favor and my life is yours

ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ requests are open ⁺ ✦ ᰍ̠

‧˚₊꒷ likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: “Charlie? Can I have a pick-me-up?”

Charlie: “!! YES!!! OF COURSE ALWAYS!!!”

Charlie: “Uh- where to start, um- Oh oh oh! You have the most AMAZING laugh whenever you to relax enough for it and your voice is INCREDIBLE really easy to get lost listening to- You take skirt wearing to whole other level, you snore SO cutely in your sleep, and even if it’s a little concerning how fast you are with that spear, it’s also really kinda h-”

Vaggie: “I meant literally, babe. Like, thanks for making me blush, but…”

Charlie: “Ohhhh you want UPPIES?”

Vaggie: “Girlfriend-based personal vertical augmentation- yeah. I’d, I’d like uppies. Please.”

Charlie: “One vertical upgrade via your girlfriend coming right UP!” (giggles) (picks up) “Heheh, how’s this?”

Vaggie: (is up picked) “Perfect, sweetie. Now carry me over to Alastor?”

Alastor: “?”

Charlie: “Okay?” (starts walking) “…why…?”

Vaggie: “I wanna punch him in his stupid smiling extremely punchable face.”

Alator: “Oh I AM flattered!”

Vaggie: “Great he’s given implied consent to a beating, let’s go.”

Charlie: “Okay.” (turning around) “We’re not doing that.”

Vaggie: “We don’t have to. I’ll do the punching, all you have to do is go over there and hold me at eye level.”  

Charlie: "Vaggie-"

Alastor: “Get on a level with ME? Rather impossible for you, I’m afraid. You simply lack my, dare I say DEPTH of vision, ha ha! DO take care you don’t suffer from altitude sickness in the attempt through, hmm?”

Vaggie: “Two seconds of being held up to his face, Charlie, that’s all I’m asking.”

Charlie: “Vaggie, that’s still assault on my part. That’s assault with a deadly weapon, even!”

Vaggie: “I’m not armed?”

Charlie: “Are you breathing?”

Vaggie: “Uhh, yeah..?”

Charlie: “If you’re breathing then you’re a threat.”

Vaggie: (grinning) “Aww, Charlie.”

Charlie: “ESPECIALLY to guys like Alastor. No offence, Alastor.”

Alastor: “Compliment accepted!”

Vaggie: (beaming) (didn’t hear him) “You’re just saying that.”

Alastor: (annoyed dial tune) “Ahem. Well, I just said-”

Charlie: “I’m saying it because it’s true, and my ex still instinctively flinches at any HINT of a red hair bow at around chest height.” (switches to cuddling vaggie) “So let’s go be a threat over here instead, okay? Out of Alastor punching range.”

Vaggie: “Still within spear throw.”

Alastor: “Ahh yes, your darling divine toothpick. How quaint!”

Charlie: “Would you really wanna get his blood all over your spear?”

Vaggie: (HEAVY SIGH) “Nnnnno… I guess not.”

Alastor: (honestly insulted) “Rude.”

Charlie: “Didn’t thinks so!” (muttering) “The way you fawn over the stupid thing when it get’s so much as a stupid little smudge from me poking it in it’s stupid perfectly polished face…”

Vaggie: “What?”

Alastor: (evil static) “SHE said-”

Charlie: “Nothing! Petty revenge always ends up biting you in the ass! Anyway.” (grins brightly) “We’ve got better things to do than punch people in the face!”

Vaggie: “Good point.” (touches charlie’s jaw thoughtfully) “...this angle is pretty useful for more than just punching.”

Alastor: “AhaHA! And there is my cue to get off the air!”

Charlie: “Yeah…?”

Vaggie: “Yeah..”

Alastor: “Indeed!”

Charlie: “Like for tongue wrestling~?”

Vaggie: “….”

Alastor: “….”

Alastor: “Oh dear~!

Vaggie: “….”

Vaggie: “What.”

Charlie: “Well if it’s combat you’re after- we COULD have a battle for dominance. Y’know. With our mouths.”

Charlie: (wink)

Vaggie: “….never mind. You can put me down now.”

Alastor: “Oooh~”

Charlie: “!! NO NO WAIT I TAKE IT BACK-”

Vaggie: “Charlie. It’s seared into my brain.”

Alastor: (grinning) “Dreadful! Truly dreadful!”

Charlie: “NOOOO NO NO UN-SEAR IT! UN-SEAR IT FROM THE BRAIN!!!!”

Vaggie: “I don’t feel up for punching anyone either anymore, so don’t worry.”

Charlie: “Would, would punching put you back in the mood!? Vaggie please wait hold on just one sec-”

Charlie: “ALASTOR! CAN YOU COME OVER- NOOO DON’T WALK AWAY, I NEED-”

Charlie: VAGGIE!!! Wait!! I’m sorry! Please wait up! Please I’m sorry I just got SO in the mood and kinda COMPLETELY lost my mind with your talking all low right next to me like that, like when we-”

Alastor: (distantly) “Dear ones~ I am not yet out of hearing range~”

Vaggie: “Good. Suffer.”

Charlie: “I’m suffering IM SUFFERNG! PLEASE!!!” (trailing after girlfriend) “Vaggiiiiieeeee..! S-smooches????”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, I can’t even look at you right now.”

Charlie: “We could do the smooches without looking!!!”

Vaggie: “Even worse. Every time I close my eye I see your tongue suited up in armor, waving around a sword.”

Charlie: (horrified) “No! NO!!! IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE A METAPHOR!”

Vaggie: “Metaphorically speaking, I’ve been scarred.”

Charlie: “Th- then let me kiss it better!”

Vaggie: “Not how it works, babe.”

Charlie: “ARGH!”

Angel Dust: “Hey’a tootes! Guess who’s back from LONG and HARD day of… the fuck is wrong with her?”

Vaggie: “She’s fine.”

Charlie: (clutching vaggie’s arm) (wailing) “FANFIC RUIN LIVES!!!!!”

Angel Dust: “Ain’t that the truth. Porn tip- NEVER try adapting a smut fic for the screen. Choreography’s a nightmare…”

Vaggie: “Wow thanks for the amazing advice that we definitely needed.”

Angel Dust: “Ya welcome.”

Charlie: “We might still need it! Right Vaggie!? We might still be doing stuff like that in future-”

Vaggie: “What we could really use right now is a few drinks. Angel, I’ll spot yours if you can convince Husk to open early.”

Charlie: (slumping over bar) “I hate my life.”

Angel Dust: “That’s cute, Charlie-horse.” (lean down to whisper at vaggie) “Ya sure she hasn’t already had any...?”

Vaggie: “I’m sure-”

Charlie: “-the whole PROBLEM is me NOT GETTING ANY!”

Vaggie: “Annnd now everyone knows it, perfect.”

Angel Dust: “Oh now this is JUICY!”

Charlie: “What everyone? I only told Angel…?”

Vaggie: “Angel can’t keep anything to himself, including himself.”

Angel Dust: “Spittin’ nothin’ but truths tonight, huh Maximum Vaggige? Cherri will love this- I’m gonna need ALL deets! Wait right here and I’ll get Husker fluff to loosen those gossipy tongues right up!!”

Vaggie: “Great. More tongue stuff.”

Charlie: “UGH.”

Vaggie: “….”

Charlie: “…”

Vaggie: “Charlie.”

Charlie: “Meh?”

Vaggie: “I swear, if I could kiss you right now without physically cringing, I would.”

Charlie: “...Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “Yeah?”

Charlie: “What if we’re never able to kiss again?”

Vaggie: “…”

Charlie: “…Vaggie this is the part where you say don’t be silly and reassure me.”

Vaggie: “I know.”

Charlie: “Tell me I’m being silly, Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “Charlie, I… I will always love you, no matter what.”

Charlie: “That’s-”(sitting bolt upright) “THAT’S NOT REASSURING!”

Vaggie: (slumping next to her at the bar) “Where the FUCK is Husk and those drinks.”

[whorbidmore]

okay, so, I've fallen victim to the leon kennedy brainrot steadily overtaking me, following me from Tumblr to Pinterest, to Instagram and even the absolutely fucking dreaded application of TikTok. I don't even use it that often??? and the algorithm is just like 'wow, yeah, this little fuckers gay as hell send in the 40 year old meow meow!!' and having watched Death Island fairly recently, I'm gonna have my opinions on what this dude would be like. Cus my brain loves to rationalize shit and think ab 'what if this mf was someone real?' so... fuck it.

Leon Soft Kennedy Headcanons

SFW

accidentally bigoted. - im sorry but let's be so fucking real here. he's a 40 something year old man who spent the majority of his life in either the military, a police training academy in the 90's, or otherwise working under the U.S Federal System with minimal/no time between missions to unpack absolutely everything he's got going on... the guys gonna have some problematic tendencies. Obviously that doesn't mean he means any of that or is incapable of change, etc. etc., but I know for damn certain this dude would laugh a little at Bill Burr's borderline to blatantly misogynistic material and has probably chuckled unironically at the attack helicopter jokes. But, he's not a complete dick, and would definitely become more critical of those kinds of jokes if it's pointed out to him.

honest to God, Dad Without Kids™ - it's not simply enough for me to leave it at 'but it's the vibes!!' so, I'm gonna break this shit down. Leon is absolutely Gen X incarnate. I can fucking guarantee you that on his off days he accidentally ends up dressing as an undercover cop; I'm talking cargo shorts, light blue button up, those fucking standard issue boots cus "they're perfectly good shoes" and those stupid ass sunglasses... you know the ones I'm talking about. Let's say you're living with him, right? And you're... you, and you wanna watch something on TV. This dude would strain himself getting up like a turtle fallen backwards on its shell, stand up, walk right in front of the TV screen and stand there with his hands on his hips. It doesn't matter that he had to piss, he needs to get a better look of what's happening! Does those really loud, obnoxious coughs and sneezes, absolutely blows his back out doing one at least five times a year.

Only watches British Reality TV - Considering he's canonically a film buff, I'll say that this is purely for whatever he gravitates towards on general streaming services. I honestly don't see him being the type to regularly tune in to standard American cable TV, or only does so under specific circumstances like American Ninja Warrior or maybe Forged in Fire if there's absolutely nothing else. It's not something that's exclusive to Americans, — I'm from New Zealand and I do this too, — but Leon absolutely falls into the category of watching British Reality and Game shows purely because of the accents. I'm talking Jeremy Kyle, The Big Fat Quiz of Everything, Taskmaster, The Great British Bake Off and so on and so forth. It doesn't matter that baking isn't his forté or a passion of his, if Josephine curdles her buttercream by over mixing, his hands are in his hair in utter disappointment. 100% tries to mimic their accents too. We all do it, don't lie.

Has... very dated music tastes - I don't know if you could guess, but the last paragraph included me calling myself out and name dropping some shows I watch anyway or grew up watching, and I'm just saying that this is gonna be no different. If anything? This'll be worse! Since I'm very passionate about the music I listen to and have the inability to keep my interests separated from the other, of course my love of particular bands will bleed over into my interpretation of Leon's character! Anyway, all that for me to say that Leon fucking LOVES 90's grunge musicians, specifically Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, as well as early nu metal bands like Korn (their dubstep phase did not happen.), TOOL, and Rage Against the Machine — and no, he unfortunately doesn't see the irony of him being a fed and listening to Rage, — but would also have a soft spot for psych rock, post-punk and shoegaze. My man's definitely laid awake at night, sobbing without expression as he struggles to accept that Ada never really wanted him like he wanted her while listening to fucking Slowdive. My hottest take here is that he doesn't really listen to Deftones. Like he'll occasionally blast My Own Summer, Change, Bored or Rosemary, but anything outside of those? He just didn't listen to 'em. My second hottest take is that he does NOT like Slipknot, which kind of pains me 'cus I do, but I fucking bet you this dude would actually adopt one piece of "Gen Z lingo" or whatever just call them cringe. Though admittedly he would've been jamming the fuck out to Psychosocial and The Devil in I when they came out. Went off the deep end in Vendetta, obviously, and drunk-cried himself to sleep on the couch listening to Linkin Park.

Very confusing spending habits - On one hand, we all understand that Leon came from money, — he was implied to have been born into a mob family from my understanding? And I doubt he'd ever really had to worry about being fully, irrevocably broke, — but I'm sure that growing up in the U.S Foster Care System made him at least a little more cautious of where his money comes from, where it's going, what he's spending it on, etc. So, on the one hand, he's apprehensive to spend recklessly, particularly on perishables. But also, if he can drop over $100,000USD on a motorcycle that got absolutely fucking cheese grated into the road, and spend a perceived, metric fuck ton of money on designer leather jackets and massive watches, it's gonna be hard for me to call him 'financially conscious'. On one hand, he gets apprehensive on spending more money than he needs to on food since he's "just gonna shit it out later", but if he sees a cool watch or a nice suit in a shop window? Money's suddenly not an issue! Not because he's materialistic, but because the one thing he really maintains a sense of control over in his life are his possessions and the way he dresses. The D.S.O can call him in for another months long mission whenever they please, and all he can realistically do is allow the government to tug on his leash and put him where he's needed. He may as well spend their money on things he wants!

Gets out... enough? But also, not really? - So, personally I've pegged Leon as more of an introverted person, — amateurly typed his MBTI as possibly ISFJ? — so he doesn't really feel the need to go out and meet new people or really hang out with anyone. If somebody invites him out? Sure, he'll go. Otherwise, it rarely occurs to him to meet up with friends or colleagues at a cafe or anywhere. I think he'd prefer to just go there alone, mostly for the sake of having somebody else cook for him as opposed to actively seeking out the atmosphere. It's pure convience in his mind. And remember when I said in the beginning about him accidentally being at least a little misogynistic? Yeah, that was me trying to say that he regularly tries to hit on younger waitresses. Not because he actually wants anything to do with them, but simply because it's an ego boost. He likes that he can make girls half his age blush or offer him their numbers, because it tells him that he's still desirable, and ultimately, that gives him the power to reject them politely and go about the rest of his day. If they don't reject him first, of course. Admittedly, Leon's audacity towards women peaked during Infinite Darkness.

Since I'm planning on posting more NSFW headcanons for this guy, — and more NSFW kinds of posts, — here is the obligatory Minors DNI attachment. For your own safety, I don't care if what I have to say is tame so far, you can hold it off I promise.

[macabr3-barbi3]

Dream a Little Dream (of Me)- Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Even more fun new abilities, like making Alastor have a real conversation!

I'm sorry, I know it's been forever- I have a terrible habit of getting caught up at chapter 5 on all of my fics for some reason 🤣 the new banner was created by my beloved @fraugwinska who is this fic's #1 hype woman (ily 💕)

I've hit a point in this story where I think I'm going to start implementing a few more plot elements- I love writing the smut but I have some fun ideas for actual story; they can only do so much before something else is needed to keep it going, so going forward there will be a bit less of a focus on the sexual aspects of the reader's relationship with Alastor and more on some emotional parts and world-building. I hope that's not too disappointing, and that you all will stick along for the ride with us <3

For weeks following your fleeing of his bedroom, Alastor is in an absolutely foul mood.

The night after your argument, your silent lounging on your bed- in your own bedroom once again, sleep deprived and irritated, unwilling again to interact with anyone else’s dreams- is disturbed by a shuddering of the hotel and loud, clattering thumps coming from down the hall. You stumble bleary-eyed into the hallway with everyone else, Charlie identifying the disturbance as coming from Alastor’s room and knocking gently on the door.

When he opens it he looks distraught, eyes wide, smile strained, his hair looking like he’s been running his hands through it constantly, tugging at it. “What is it,” he asks the Princess, and to Charlie’s credit she doesn’t shrink back from him when she asks if he’s okay, tells him that he’s disturbing everyone’s sleep.

He locks eyes with you where you stand a few feet away, still hovering halfway into your own room. “Perfectly fine,” he tells Charlie, but his eyes don’t leave your face. “Merely a… nightmare, I suppose. More of a disappointing dream than anything else, really.”

You duck back into your room with a slam of the door, chest heaving with your anger and frustration and not listening to whatever else he had to say to Charlie. What right did he have to say that you were a disappointment? You didn’t even know what he wanted from you, let alone what you had done wrong- what, not wanting to kill people? You were no saint, having ended up in Hell in the first place, but you had morals still, lines you wouldn’t cross. Regardless of anything that had happened between you thus far, any yearning or feelings that might have resulted from it, you wouldn’t change who you were as a person for him. You came to the hotel seeking redemption, for fuck’s sake- how could he think that he could ask that of you?

You start booking other hotel rooms with the money you’re earning as the Resident Events Coordinator- honestly, Charlie probably pays you way too much, but it's helping you in the meantime so you aren’t going to complain- and you’ll camp out for a few days at a time and practice your abilities in the dreams of others. It’s fun for a while, to innocently mess with people by creating clones and turning things upside down. You find that once you’ve been inside someone’s dreams you can almost tune into their thoughts like a radio broadcast now- a little concentration and you get fleeting snippets of consciousness from them; grocery lists, work tasks, gossip. It’s nothing like it had been with Alastor, like you were deep-diving into his brain, seeing his memories through his eyes. He might have been right about your connection to him being what allowed such a thinking to happen, since you showed no signs of being able to do such a thing with anyone else.

Charlie notices how often you’re away from the Hotel, because she’s doing everything in her power to keep you there aside from having Vaggie physically restrain you. She keeps proposing new activities for you to coordinate, from a night at the club to an outing at LuLu World, and most recently she had you planning a trip to her father’s mansion for some fancy dinner and tour- Lucifer himself wouldn’t be interacting with them beyond the actual meal, he was just opening the space to them so they could all see where Charlie had grown up, another lesson in ‘empathy’ that Charlie hoped would help them make progress.

So you spent the evening making sure that everyone was corralled into the correct locations and not slipping off where they shouldn’t be. Angel had already tried to convince Husk to raid the wine cellar with him, Niffty was lamenting that she wasn’t allowed into the King’s personal quarters to clean, and Charlie was growing more and more frustrated that rooms she wanted to show the group had been filled with rubber ducks. Alastor keeps his distance from you, occasionally fading into the shadows to go do his own thing- you hope Charlie and Lucifer don’t hold it against you that you have no ability to control that man. 

Dinner calms everyone down, wine and delicious food putting everyone in a better mood while Lucifer dazzled them with magic and stories about Charlie as a child. You laugh along with everyone but you can feel Alastor’s eyes on you the entire meal, and when you finally steal a glance at him he’s looking away.

Typical.

You help Vaggie herd everyone into their rooms- their own rooms, to Angel’s disappointment at not being able to share with Husk- and leave Alastor to Charlie so she can berate him about not making an effort to get along with her dad, snippy barbs flying across the table at each other between stories. You tell the girls that you’ll stay up a bit later to make sure no one does any ill-advised exploring in the night, and bid them a goodnight as you head off to clean up from dinner. Lucifer seemed to have used his magic to take care of most of the food mess, but he’s nowhere to be seen when you return to the dining room so you take your time in stacking plates and organizing the dishes so that whatever staff he might have has an easier time of taking care of it all.

Just after midnight finds you seated on the couch in Lucifer’s library, your eyes surprisingly not bleary with a need for sleep despite not having truly rested in days. Everyone else is asleep- you focus your powers for a moment and can’t pinpoint anything coming from the others, other than an unpleasant staticky noise that comes from Alastor’s room. The fireplace crackles pleasantly a few feet away from you, the comforting smell of old books surrounding you and making things feel… calmer than they have as of late, with Alastor stomping around the hotel like some angry beast and refusing to interact with you at all. He was always making this expression towards you, like he wants to say something, or wants you to say something, and it was wearing away at your resolve.

You didn’t want to have this distance between you. Even beyond the more intimate moments that you had shared, Alastor had always been good company; he was helping you learn more about your powers, even if it was only to sate his curiosity; outside of his bedroom he was friendly and fun, and would probably rather die again than admit that he enjoyed the company of the others as well. Throughout of the course of this… thing between you, something had changed on your side. You think about the night he tore his stitches, the words you had whispered before realizing he had passed out above you.

“I would be yours. Forever. For as long as you want.”

The words still sit uncomfortably true in your ribcage, make the rift between the two of you feel even wider. Maybe it would be easier if he knew- if you could take his avoidance of you as an answer. You wanted to find him, try to have a proper conversation about boundaries when it came to your power- have a proper conversation about your feelings, and-

A throat clears in the doorway of the library, and when you turn Alastor himself stands in the doorway. “I hope I’m not intruding,” he says stiffly without stepping into the room, and you wave a hand at him to indicate that he can join you. He stands at the other end of the room still, closer to the fire, and won’t meet your eyes. “I heard you telling Charlotte that you would keep an eye on everyone tonight- but I know you haven’t slept. I’m happy to take up the watch if you would like me to place a temporary pocket dimension in your room, or transport you back to the hotel for the night.”

You want to drop it- ignore the fight that still hovers frustratingly between the two of you when Alastor is offering an out. His way of apologizing, perhaps, but your thoughts from earlier are still there. You needed to actually talk about it, or the pair of you would just keep coming back to the same issue.

“It depends. Does accepting your offer mean that we wouldn’t be talking about how you casually mentioned having me kill people for you? Because in that case, no thank you.” You watch the fire instead of him, how the flames twist and dance with one another as he stiffens at your words.

“I… regret how that evening transpired,” he says at last, ignoring your sigh as he comes closer to the couch. “I’ve thought on the matter and I recognize how such a request-”

“A request that you made seem like a command,” you remind him, “with that shit you pulled with the leash.”

He takes a deep breath, the flames flickering green behind him as he tried to keep his composure. “Yes, I can see now how that would have upset you. Regardless- I recognize how such a request was inappropriate, even if we did have a tentative agreement in regards to my limits with your powers. I understand that it is a boundary for you, and I will do my best not to test that again.”

You finally turn to look at him, and he looks… properly abashed. But there was no way he would have come up with that on his own, not with the glee that had been evident in his features when he brought up the idea. “Did Charlie help you with that?” You ask, and he scowls- which is less scary than he probably hopes it is, and is more a confirmation than anything else.

“I may have sought her expertise in handling interpersonal conflict,” he says, his stiff posture finally loosening up as he joins you on the couch. “Apologies do not come easily to me- not sincere ones, anyway. I don’t-” He clenches his fist and turns away from you, dark shadows crawling across the floor in arcs away from him. “I don’t know how to have something in my grasp without possessing it entirely. We have a deal but it’s not one that grants me the liberties that I would prefer in regards to your powers and your actions.” 

You take a deep breath and scoot closer to him. “I appreciate you being honest with me,” you offer, and he grimaces like the idea is distasteful. “Listen, I’m sure you think having feelings makes you weaker or something but really, it’s important to talk about these things. And to apologize… which I accept. But if we want to keep, you know, experimenting with my powers and whatever else, I think we need to have specific guidelines of what we expect of each other that isn’t crossing any boundaries for either of us. What, exactly, do you want?”

Alastor seems to struggle with himself for a moment, clenching his hands and refusing to meet your eyes. “I… I’m not quite sure what I want,” he says, like the words of ignorance pain him. “I’ve despised having to keep my distance from you since our disagreement. To see you laughing with the others and turning away from me with that look on your face was unpleasant to say the least. I don’t want that space between us again- if you’re amenable to the idea I think I would like to have you back in my bedroom, once I have repaired the bayou dimension.”

“You want to be closer then- physically.” You hop cushions, sitting right beside him and placing a hand on his knee. “That’s fine, we can do that- you’ll have to tell me what happened to the bayou sometime, though.” He nods stiffly, hesitating a moment before he places his hand over yours on his knee. “Anything else?”

“In regards to your powers, I would still like to experiment if you will allow me.” Alastor lifts your hand from his knee and presses a soft kiss to the back of it. “I understand that hurting others is a limit you will not cross-”

“I won’t hurt you either, if that was your idea of trying to get around that.”

He frowns. “Too clever for your own good- I suppose that is part of the reason that I tolerate you. Very well- I will not ask you to cause physical harm to anybody, period. I also still would like to ask that I am the only one who knows of your abilities for the time being.”

“Done. I do have a condition of my own.” You turn to face him fully, and pull his hand to your heart. “I don’t want this to be a proper deal- no soul binding or anything like that. I would want the rope from our wager removed.” He stiffens at that, but he doesn’t jerk away from you like you expected so you continue. “We have to be able to trust each other if we want any sort of relationship to work, whether it be for experimentation or something more. We should be able to follow each other’s requests and boundaries without needing it sealed with a chain- that doesn’t give us any room to adapt or change as my powers grow and situations shift.”  

His jaw clenches, and he doesn’t look at you for a long moment, instead keeping his eyes trained on the flames before he finally nods- you bite your lip to keep from grinning or doing something stupid, like shouting in excitement. “I hope you realize what you are asking of me,” he says finally. “I don’t generally keep people close to me that I cannot control or own in some way or another. It keeps me detached from needing people, or caring about their approval. But I do believe I want those things from you, which is why I am agreeing to these terms. Please understand that this is… new territory for me.”

You lace your fingers through his. “It is for me, too. But that’s where the trust comes in- I have to trust that you’ll respect my boundaries without the compulsion of a deal, and you trust that I’m here with you because I want to be- whether you just want to continue experimenting with my powers or… anything else.”

Alastor’s red eyes glance at you from his peripheral. “Anything else, you say? I take it to mean that you also wish for things to return as they were between us in an intimate manner?” Your face flushes but you nod, and to your relief he smiles softly and reaches across the scant distance between you to touch your shoulder. “I would like that as well,” he says, and cups your cheek in one hand, leaning in so your foreheads rest against one another. His breath ghosts across your lips, and you realize with startling clarity that this would be the first time you’ve kissed him outside of dreams; the first one in reality, a milestone to mark the resolvement of your disagreement. You embrace it, leaning in and letting your lips meet, a gentle pressure before your mouth opens with a gasp when he trails his free hand up your thigh to caress the skin under your shorts with his thumb. “So soft,” he murmurs into the kiss, almost absently, and then he’s pulling you to him, maneuvering so you sit sideways in his lap. He lets his fingers creep a bit further under the hem of your shorts. “May I?”

“Please,” you whine, and he grants you mercy by snapping your clothing out of existence so he can make unhindered contact with your skin. His fingers move slowly, tracing through the wetness along the folds of your entrance before he parts them and slips a digit inside. The short weeks that have passed since the last time you were with him feel like a lifetime, but he still knows the intricacies of your body like a well loved instrument; a second finger follows, and pressure against the spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Fuck, Alastor…”

He steals the rest of your words with his mouth, his tongue snaking in to tangle with yours, drinking down the sounds you make like ambrosia. Another finger, and you twist in Alastor’s hold to grind yourself down against them, to angle your hips to guide him more effectively where you want him to go. “Someone is eager, hm?” He pulls back to whisper in your ear, hand finally leaving your face to come around your back, pulling you as close as he can to his body while still working his fingers inside you. His thumb comes into play, brushing with perfect pressure on your clit, dipping into the wetness that coats his fingers so the slide of it is slick and perfect. Tension builds inside you, muscles shaking as you ride Alastor’s hand towards a sloppy orgasm. He brings his mouth to your chest, sharp teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there before sucking gently, still making eye contact when you glance down at him through the haze of pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you. “Go on, darling,” he says softly, laving his tongue over the marks he’s sucked into your skin, fingers thrusting more insistently as everything in you coils tighter than a spring. “Cum for me, go on-”

You cry out his name as it takes you over, the electric flash of ecstasy that consumes you from the pit of your stomach to the tips of your fingers as Alastor works you through it. You can feel your heartbeat in your eyes from the force of it, a soft throbbing that you know Alastor is experiencing where his digits are still inside the grip of your internal walls. Everything is tingly and fuzzy afterward, as your pulse returns to normal and your breathing slows, aware now of the soft kisses that Alastor is pressing into your collarbone.

He removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to his mouth to drag his tongue up and down the length of them while you blush. And despite the pleasure he’s already given you, you want more- you grind your hips down to convey the sentiment, the mess of your orgasm still evident and soaking through the front of his trousers where you can feel the hard ridge of his cock. He hisses at the friction, twisting a hand up into your hair while the other grips your hip and pulls you down harder. “You tempt me, my dear,” he says, “but someone is coming.”

“I don’t hear anything,” you mutter, continuing to rock your hips in little circles. Even with how sensitive you are, the pressure against your clit feels damningly good, too good to stop or heed his warning. “And if someone comes in, I’ll handle it.”

Alastor laughs out loud. “Oh, you’ll handle it, will you? By all means then, have at it.” He gestures vaguely towards his pelvis, unaware of the trick that you’ve been holding up your sleeve in your recent solo experimentations. You would never get a better opportunity to surprise him, you think, as you rip the belt from his pants and help him shimmy them off, his thick erection beading with fluid at the tip when it’s freed.

You lean back against the couch cushions, pulling him down with you and using a gentle hand to guide him to your entrance. You let out a soft whimper as he pushes into you, breath punching out of you with a gasp when he sinks to the hilt in one swift thrust. You tangle a hand into his hair, gripping the base of one of his antlers and grinning when his hips jerk against you at the action. His eyes are half-lidded and soft as he stares down at you, seeming to have to focus on slowing down when he pulls out and slowly presses back in. “You’re so lovely,” he whispers, and your pulse leaps into your throat when he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

Your mind is flooded with images when he makes contact, emotions that ride through your veins along with the physical pleasure you’re feeling- evidently he’s been watching you the last few weeks, following you when you left the hotel to make sure you weren’t in any danger, sending his shadow to watch you sleep. You can feel the bitterness in your pulse as he watches you interact with the others, only to turn away when you notice him. The vague sadness that night that he had destroyed his room, his bayou, because how could he remain there when there were traces of you everywhere? 

You break the connection with a gasp, using your grip on his antler to pull him back to your mouth as he continues to fuck into you at a steady pace. He groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, marks that you can come back to when the need was to great, more tangible proof that this was real, that he wanted you outside your abilities. “Alastor, please,” you beg, letting the fingers not currently brushing the base of his horns to trail down his spine, tracing the vertebrae beneath your touch as he shivers. He shifts his legs, brings himself closer to you, the angle changing and pushing the tip of his cock exactly where you need it. 

The door to the library creaks open, and you both freeze.

“Hello?” There’s a hint of pain as Lucifer’s voice echoes in the room, where Alastor has tightened his grip enough to break skin with his claws. His other hand untangles itself from your hair to press against your mouth, silencing your heavy breathing. “Who’s in here?”

The couch you were seated on was high-backed- he wouldn’t be able to see you from the door, but if he entered the room, came around the front, you would be fucked in a far less pleasurable way than you currently were. Alastor’s nostrils flare above you as he hears the soft clacking of the King’s boots as he takes a couple steps in, apparently not able to help himself from bucking his hips forward, his teeth bared in a snarl when he feels your muffled groan against his palm.

More light blooms in the room from the wall sconces- you had been sitting in here with just the fire, and the glare of more lighting makes you squint your eyes, Alastor silhouetted beautifully above you. “I know someone is in here,” Lucifer demands, and you take a deep breath against Alastor’s hand and snap your fingers. “You were all told to-”

“Why, good evening, your Majesty!” 

You almost wish you had manifested in Hell like the CEO of that tech company, with some sort of electronics built into your head so you could record the look on Alastor’s face at hearing his own voice respond to Lucifer. Your eyebrows are creased, trying to focus on the figment you’ve conjured to keep the King’s attention away from the couch. 

“Oh, it’s just you,” Lucifer says, and you can hear the hint of disdain in his voice- you wonder, not for the first time, what the issue was between these two- some conflict that had started before you were at the Hotel that no one felt necessary to fill you in on. “I thought you were told to keep to your own quarters past eleven.”

You make the thing twirl it’s cane, snapping it back to the ground and inspecting it’s fingernails. “Yes, well, I had some business to attend to. And might I add, sire, you are also out past your imposed bedtime.” 

Maybe it was something about using your powers to sass the king of Hell with some false puppet, but Alastor seemed to react well to it- his eyes dark, teeth bared, he plants a foot on the floor to brace himself so the couch doesn’t shift and thrusts into you hard, his hand pressing harder against your mouth when you whine at the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls. There’s wonder in his expression, something akin to adoration; this was what he wanted from you, you realized, displays of power, shows of your abilities that he could see and benefit from, that showed that he could trust you. 

Lucifer scoffs across the room. “This is my house, if you’ve forgotten,” he retorts. “I can go where I please. And I heard you talking to someone!” Rapid footsteps, like he’s coming further into the room, and even as it makes Alastor buck his hips wildly against you, you don’t think he really wants to be caught in such a compromising situation.

You make the figure step forward- if you really concentrate you can almost see through its eyes, a vague image behind your eyelids of Lucifer standing before it with his arms crossed where you’ve blocked him, his gaze frustrated. “I was talking to myself,” you make it say. “I must have intelligent conversation on occasion, you know, and with everyone else in bed and only you left awake, I had to make do.”

Alastor grins above you, pleased with the tone and the words of this replica you’ve created of him; refusing to use his likeness to submit or offer pleasantries to get him out of the room; you were doubling down like Alastor himself would. You can hear the inaccuracies- you’re sure Alastor can, too- but Lucifer appears none the wiser as Alastor begins to fuck you in earnest, the couch thankfully staying still and not squeaking or moving as he holds his hand over your mouth harder and leans down to nibble at your collar.

“Of all the disrespectful-”

“Careful now, your Majesty,” it says, and you make shadows appear to crawl across the floor towards him, tendrils approaching the couch as well. When Alastor notices them he groans into your skin, and through the copy’s eyes you see Lucifer snap his head in the direction of the sound. “You wouldn’t want Charlie to catch us in a disagreement, would you?” And thank whatever beings heard prayers down here, Lucifer deflates- you had made a gamble with that, assuming that Charlie had spoken with her father about getting along with her hotelier, but knowing the princess the way that you did you figured there was no way that she would allow them to be at each other’s throats like they were. You let the false shadows sink back, and have your illusion give him a cheeky little wave. “There’s a good King. Now, may I get back to my business?” With the last word, Alastor stills, waiting for a confirmation or denial, possibly preparing to phase the two of you out of the room if Lucifer came further into the room-

“Do whatever you want,” Lucifer grumbles, “Charlie and that little coordinator need to keep a closer fucking eye on you, but I can’t be bothered.”

“I’ll be sure to mention that to our event planner,” you make it say, and Alastor makes another soft noise into your throat against where your pulse beats steadily, replicated in the rhythmic clenching of your walls around his still hard length. The interruption doesn’t seem to have doused your arousal, nor Alastor’s- the possibility of being caught like this makes your blood boil in the most pleasant way, Alastor’s cock still filling you perfectly even as he’s stopped actually fucking you for the time being. “I’ll bid you a good night, sire; I still have matters that need tending to, free of distractions.” You see Lucifer cast a middle finger back at the image of Alastor as it speaks, and then mercifully he’s storming out, a swirling golden portal opening for him to step through and then closing with a loud crack.

In time with the noise of the portal slamming closed, Alastor pulls his hips back and snaps them forward again- his hand is removed from your mouth with your gasp, and he moves it to your hip to pull you more forcefully into his thrusts. “You,” he growls against your jawline, “are perfect.” He kisses you, licking into your mouth and stealing the air from your lungs as it’s punched from you with every rock of his pelvis. “The audacity to pull such a stunt- the control you maintained over the illusion was breathtaking, I don’t- fuck,” he concludes eloquently, fingers coming between your bodies to rub at your clit again as he races towards completion. It reignites the fire in your abdomen, heat flashing through your body like a strike of lightning that burns across your skin, making you cling to him tighter. He looks down at you with dark, unfathomable eyes while he fucks you, his pace growing uneven and broken as he approaches his end. “Please, darling,” he whispers against your lips, “cum for me, I need-”

The plea is what breaks you, every muscle in your body tensing and releasing as the orgasm slams into you like a car into a brick wall- messy, sudden, destructive. You don’t leave your own mind this time, your consciousness firmly rooted in reality as you watch Alastor lose his composure, his eyes fluttering closed with a gasp of your name while he spills into the slick heat of your cunt, his hips still rocking as if he means to fuck his release as far into you as he can. You shiver with the aftershocks, Alastor still maintaining a gentle swiping across your clit, and you can feel the way your walls twitch around the length of his cock while he stays buried in you to the hilt.

“No mind traveling today, I see,” he asks quietly, another kiss pressed softly to your forehead, and while no mental images come forth you can feel what he’s feeling now; the lingering ache of pleasure, the pride he still feels at your show of your new ability, an overall sense of happiness that you wouldn’t expect to be able to bring Alastor. He had put aside his discomfort to have an honest, responsible conversation with you to fix what you had both thought might be irreparably broken, and you were thankful.

You hum against his throat. “I’m content where I am,” you tell him, and the vibration of his laughter on your lips is perfection.

From the previous tags list: @aconstructofamind @littlebluefishtail @spottypug @bishiglomper @ivebeenthearchersstuff @minamilinaqueen

if any of you would like to be removed for any reason, please let me know! <3

[urfavcurlypookie]

Am I traitor? Like him

Luke Castellan x Daughter Of Apollo

Warning: Mention of Luke, absent father but loving at the same time and plot twist near the end

You stay quiet "the usual monsters come and go.. leaving me near death and almost visiting hades.." she looks at her father watching him carefully. Apollo face darkens when you explain that the monsters left you nearly dying and so close to visiting Hades, he could feel anger beginning to rise. He grits his teeth and his eyes almost have a literal fire to them. "Of course..of course monsters came after you..."

You smiles "it's fine...I guess that's a demigod life" she stays quiet "I went out to seek your approval to make sure y'know I existed.." His frown lessened and was replaced with a sad smile, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer. "Ah.. my little nightingale. You don't need to go through all that just for my approval, I've never doubted your existence not even once. Sure, you may not be one of my demigods, but you're still my daughter.. and nothing you do will change that.."

He lightly squeezes her shoulder, keeping her close to him. He gently lifts her chin up to look her in the eye. "I'm being serious, little birdie. I don't need you to perform some impossible task for my approval or love, I've never doubted your existence. If you ever need to be reminded of that, just come and find me, understand?"

You looks away "yeah...I did seek for your approval to be claimed..." He sighs and tilts his head, he gently places his hand on her cheek, cupping it and turning her head back to look at him. "You should know at this stage that the only reason I haven't claimed you was to keep you safe from the other Olympians.. not because I didn't want you. Hell, you're my favorite of the Muses.. I wanted to make you my own. I wanted to boast and show you off all over Olympus. I wanted to claim you, damn it.."

You look at him "why are my half siblings claimed then" she said with a hint of envy. He sighs and gently rubs his thumb against her cheek, trying to comfort her. He looks towards the sky for a few seconds, then looks back at her, guilt clear in his eyes. "That's.. different. Your half-siblings were born in the right place, in the right time.. you.. you were born in neither of those. You were born at the wrong time and in the wrong place.. do you understand?"

You stay seated on the log and stay quiet "you broke the rules...and came back down and met my mother and then I happened to be born..." Apollo stays quiet for a while, he sighs and closes his eyes, almost as if he was reliving that memory. After a few moments, his eyes open again. "Yes.. that's exactly what happened. I.. I knew the risk, the rules, and still I came down from the heavenly plain despite it being forbidden.. if the other gods and goddesses didn't know of your existence, they'd be calling you an aberration and demanding your death"

He gently pulls you closer, practically cradling her in his arms like she was a small child. He lets go of her chin and moves his hand to her hair, gently running his fingers through it."I know it's unfair and cruel.. but the other Olympians are relentless and harsh. They'd have found you and punished you for being born, simply because I didn't follow their stupid rules. It isn't your fault, little birdie. This.. this was my own doing.."

Apollo changed the subject quickly and he hums and continues gently playing with their hair, a smirk pulling at his lips. He shakes his head a little, amused. "Honestly, you just need to tune out the others. They clearly don't know what they're speaking about. Anyone with half a brain can tell that you're definitely my child.. you look just like me when I was a teenager"

He grins and gently ruffles her hair once again, his smirk widening. He lightly grips a few strands of hair in his hand and lightly tugs, almost like a silent tease. “I mean it though, little birdie. You look almost exactly like me when I was younger. We have the exact same face structure, our hair is the same golden blond color. You’re like a little birdie version of me, my miniature twin.” now you had to hear him talk about him being a teenager which made you get bored.

He grins and pulls her a little closer, wrapping his muscled arms around her shoulders. He gently tucks her head under his chin and chuckles, closing his eyes and relishing in their presence for a moment. “Hell, even some personality traits.. we are both stubborn, quick to temper, and have a knack for acting like damn fools sometimes.. you’ll get stuck with that one from being around me..”

As they spend time talking about everything keeping him caught up with your life you were having a daughter and father bond. you look at him and stay quiet "I think you should head back before you get in trouble.."

He stays quiet for a moment and almost laughs bitterly. Like he'd get more in trouble then he is already. He sighs and squeezes her shoulder lightly, his throat feeling uncomfortably tight, almost as if it was swelling. ".. Yeah.. yeah, probably should. The other Olympians are bound to start questioning my location by now..”

Apollo eyes stay on hers for a few seconds, searching her face. He wanted to stay and comfort her, but he also knew that he had duties to do, duties to fulfill. He didn’t want to keep the other Olympians waiting. He lets out a heavy sigh and his eyes soften. “Alright, little birdie. I’ll head back then.. but.. be careful and stay as safe as you can, okay?” You nod "I will..."

He pauses for a moment, hesitating, before reluctantly turning and starting to walk away, leaving her alone in the field. Every step he took, he felt a pang of reluctance, of guilt and concern. He didn’t want to leave her like this.

He stops walking after a few moments and turns around, looking back at her. He stays silent, watching her quietly for a few moments, before speaking. “Be safe, little birdie. I’ll visit as soon as I can..” He turns back around and continues walking, walking with a bit more reluctance this time as the guilt weighs more heavily on him.

It was around the middle of the day now, and campers were going about their daily routines. Some were training in the arena, some were playing games, and others were simply chatting with friends. The chatter within camp was never-ending. You were in the forest sitting on a log watching the river flow.

The river was flowing peacefully, its water sparkling in the sunlight that managed to break through the thick foliage. The sound of the running water and the gentle rustling of leaves provided a calming ambience. You sigh and close her eyes Nothing was the same....all she wanted was Luke maybe not him probably she wanted her mother's comfort...but she thought about Luke, he was a traitor he was a lost cause maybe.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. She opened her eyes and looked around to see who was coming. The footsteps grew louder, and soon a figure came into view. It was a familiar face, one that you recognized all too well.

It was Percy, the demigod hero and son of Poseidon. He walked towards you with a weary expression on his face, clearly drained from whatever mission or task he had been on. Percy takes a seat next to her on the log, letting out a heavy sigh. "Hey" he starts, his voice sounding exhausted. "Mind if I join you?"

You sigh "sure.." Percy sinks down onto the log next to her and glances at her. He can immediately tell something is wrong. "You alright?" he asks, a hint of concern in his voice. You look at the river "yeah, why wouldn't I be okay?"

Percy quirks an eyebrow, not convinced by her response. "You're sitting here alone in the middle of the woods, staring into the river. That doesn't exactly scream 'alright' to me." You stay quiet "maybe I wanna be alone.." Percy frowns and studies her for a moment, his expression softening. "You sure that's all? You can talk to me, you know. I might not always know how to help, but I'm here for you."

Percy senses her reluctance to open up and decides not to push the issue. He respects her wish for privacy and takes a moment to enjoy the peaceful atmosphere of the forest. Silence stretches between them for a few minutes as they both sit and listen to the sounds of nature. You sigh "I saw my father..."

Percy turns his head to look at her, his expression sympathetic. "You saw Apollo?" he asks quietly. He frowns slightly and studies her for a moment, sensing that there's more to the story. "And how did that go?" he asks gently, not wanting to pry but also hoping she will open up to him. You stay quiet "it wasn't...what I expected.."

Percy's brow furrows in concern as he looks at her. "What do you mean? Did something happen? Did he say something to you?" You stay quiet "I asked why he didn't claim me and he said...I was born in the wrong time and wrong place..."

Percy's expression softens even more, his heart going out to her. "Oh... I'm sorry," he says softly. "That must have been hard to hear. But you know that doesn't define you, right?" You stay quiet "all of my half siblings were born in the right time and right place except me.."

Percy frowns again, feeling for her. "That doesn't make you any less special or important," he says in a gentle tone. "You're unique. You're exactly who you're meant to be. Just because you were born in the 'wrong place and time' according to your father, doesn't change that." You stay quiet "I was put through hell out there, going to dangerous quests just to get claim yet I wasn't..."

Percy nods solemnly, his expression sympathetic. "I can only imagine. But you know what? You made it here. You survived. And maybe that's because you're stronger than you give yourself credit for." You stay quiet "yeah I do, I know you saw Luke..."

Percy's expression darkens slightly, his jaw clenching. "Yeah, I saw him," he says quietly, his voice filled with bitterness. You look at him "when Luke explained why he planned to take down Olympus, part of it made sense to me..." Percy clenches his jaw, his eyes narrowing. "You mean the part about the gods being neglectful and flawed?" You do know he's a traitor, right? He's working for Kronos."

You look back to the river "I know it made sense to you Percy.." He huffs in frustration, his hands clenching into fists. "Yeah, it made sense. But that doesn't mean he's right. The gods have their flaws, sure, but destroying them and taking over the world isn't the way to fix things." You stay quiet "they neglected us.."

Percy's expression softens slightly, his anger giving way to understanding. "Yeah, they neglect us. They send us on dangerous quests, and they let us deal with problems they created. But that's not an excuse to try and destroy them. They're not all bad, you know." You stay quiet "they are Percy..."

His brow furrows and he shakes his head in disagreement. "No, they're not. They're powerful and flawed, that's for sure. But there are gods who care, who have helped us out when it mattered. Poseidon, Ares, and others... they've all come through for us at times."

Percy lets out a huff. "And even the ones who do try to kill us sometimes... they have their reasons. I'm not excusing their actions, but there's sometimes more to it than we realize." You looks at the river "I have trusted people only to be hurt...Silena is an example, she did me dirty, manipulative me she made me believe her words a child of Aphrodite? I was blinded by her..."

Percy sighs, his expression sympathetic. "Yeah, Silena's betrayal was rough. She hurt a lot of people. But that doesn't mean all trust is bad or wrong. There are other people out there who are worthy of your trust." You close your eyes "and now Luke...heck I still love him.."

Percy studies her for a moment, seeing the pain in her eyes. "I know it's hard" he says quietly. "Loving someone who's done wrong is complicated. It's like... like loving a storm. They can be beautiful and dangerous all at once. But sometimes, you have to let go." You open your eyes and look at him "how? I knew everything about him..."

Percy sighs again, his expression understanding yet saddened. "Letting go isn't easy, believe me. It hurts like hell. But sometimes, it's the healthiest thing you can do. Holding on to someone who's hurt you or betrayed you just keeps causing you pain. It's not healthy. It's not good for you." You look away "I knew it....i knew about his plans.." she whispers "I did some things for him, I was blinded by my love for him.."

Percy looks at her, his ears perking up at her admission. "Wait... what do you mean you knew about his plans? And what do you mean you did some things for him?" You keep your eyes closed "I loved him Percy...I really did and that love turned into something that I would do anything.."

Percy frowns as he listens to her, his heart aching for her. "what did you do? Tell me." You open your eyes and stares into the river "I helped him sneak out of camp...I knew about Silena being a traitor and yet I stayed with her because she was my friend and y'know that cost me a lot me and her got our eyes burned.. somehow I'm still alive" you look at him you still had the burn in your left eye causing you to be blind due to the poison burn.

Percy's expression hardens as the realization sets in. "Wait.. you knew all that? You helped Luke escape, knowing he was a traitor? And you didn't say anything? that's... that's messed up. People could've died because of your silence." You let a small sob "I wanted to be loved Percy... everything I did was for love.."

He looks at her with a mixture of sadness and anger. "Love shouldn't blind you like that," he says quietly. "It shouldn't make you do things that could hurt other people. You can't put your own desires before the safety of others."

Percy is taken aback by her outburst, shocked by the revelation but he keeps his composure. "But you have to understand that your actions have consequences. You can't just do whatever you want in the name of love and expect there to be no repercussions. You hurt people. You could've gotten people killed. Do you understand that?"

You stay quiet "I know.." Percy watches her, his expression a mixture of anger and concern. "You know, but do you really understand the gravity of it? You helped a dangerous traitor escape... and you played a role in Silena's betrayal and death. You can't take that back. The damage is done."

Percy takes a deep breath, trying to control his own frustration."I understand loving someone can make you do crazy things, but there are limits. There are lines you can't cross. And you... you crossed them. You need to take responsibility for what you did."

Percy looks at her, his expression firm."You have to face the consequences of your actions. You can't just act like you didn't do anything wrong or that you were acting in the name of love. You made choices, and those choices had consequences. People got hurt, people died. You can't just wash your hands of that."

You look at him "I didn't kill anyone though!" She says trying to defend herself Percy's expression hardens and he scowls. "No, you didn't kill anyone," he says tersely. "But you sure as hell played a part in their deaths. You helped Luke escape, knowing he was a traitor and a danger to camp. You knew about Silena's betrayal and you did nothing. You might not have killed them yourself, but your silence was just as much a death sentence as any weapon."

You look at him and look back to the river "all because I wanted my father to notice me..and all because I liked a boy.. enough to do crazy things" Percy sighs, his anger giving way to a sort of resignation. "Seeking your father's attention and liking a boy... that's not a justification for doing all this. You can't let your desire for love and acceptance override your judgement and moral compass."

Percy gazes at her, his expression a mix of disappointment and concern. "You didn't think about the consequences of your actions, did you? You were so focused on your own desires that you didn't stop to think about the people you were hurting." You close your eyes "you can leave now, I wish to be alone"

Percy looks at her for a moment, his expression conflicted, but he eventually takes a few steps back and begins walking away, leaving her alone by the river. As Percy walks away, he glances back one more time, worried etched on his face. He hopes she'll be alright.

You stare into the river she was a traitor herself maybe? A voice in her head whispers, making her question her own actions. "Maybe you were a traitor too." The voice continues, its words cutting deeper into her soul. "You helped a dangerous enemy escape, allowed the camp to be vulnerable to attack. You're just as much a traitor as Luke is."

Each word, each whisper, feeds her doubts and fills her with guilt. "Your actions were selfish, reckless, and destructive. You endangered the lives of others in pursuit of your own desires. A true betrayal." The voice continues its relentless attack, preying on on her insecurities and mistakes. "You're unworthy, undeserving. They all know it. They all see it. A traitor to the core."

As Luke watches from the shadows, his expression is a mixture of disappointment, anger, and a twisted satisfaction. He had manipulated you, used her love for him and her desire for her father's attention against her. And now, here she was, devastated and alone, consumed by guilt and self-doubt. Luke sneers to himself, relishing in the sight of her suffering. He had convinced her to cross the line, to betray her friends and the camp, all for the sake of their twisted love.

Yet, somewhere deep down, a flicker of remorse tugged at him. He had cared for her, in his own TWISTED way, and seeing her like this pained him on some level. But he quickly pushed that thought aside, reminding himself of the greater goal, the need to bring down Olympus. You look at him "was that enough to make him believe?" She smiles and stands up

Luke's expression hardens as he watches her stand up and face him, her smile not quite reaching her eyes."You put on a good show," he says coldly. "But I know you better than that. You're a wreck inside " you flinches slightly at his words, her smile fading for a moment before she regains her composure.

He steps closer to her, his gaze hardening. "All that guilt and self-doubt you're feeling? That's what they want you to feel. You're letting them get into your head. Stop listening to the voices, start listening to me." You look at him "I am"

Luke's expression softens slightly, his gaze searching hers, trying to gauge her sincerity. "Good," he says, his voice calmer now. "Then listen to me. You're strong. Stronger than you realize. Stronger than them. Stronger than those damn gods."

You nod "do you still wish for me to stay here and keep telling you more Information?" Luke contemplates her question for a moment, his expression calculating. "Yes," he says finally, "I need all the information you can gather. Everything you overhear, every conversation you witness, every detail you can extract. Keep me informed about the camp's movements, their plans, their vulnerabilities."

Luke steps closer to her, standing directly in front of her. "Remember, every piece of information you bring me is a step closer to our ultimate goal. And if you do this, if you stay loyal to me, I promise you'll be rewarded. We'll have everything we ever wanted." Luke smirks, a hint of sadistic pleasure in his eyes. "And when we take down those gods, when we make them suffer like they made us suffer, you'll be right there with me. We'll rule together. Can you handle that?"

You nod "mhm.." Luke grins, satisfied with her response. "Good," he says, his voice firm. "Then we have a deal. You gather information, you report back to me, and you stay loyal to the cause. Understand?" Luke glances around, making sure no one is listening, before leaning closer to her, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "And remember, if you feel any guilt or doubt creeping in, forget about it. The gods don't care about you, Anlie. They never have. I do. They'll abandon you the moment they can. I won't."

He reaches out and gently touches her cheek, his touch cold and calculated. "You're mine. Remember that. No one else will ever truly care for you like I do." His words are a mix of possessiveness and manipulation, designed to further bind her to him and his cause. He knows how to play her emotions, how to make her feel both desired and controlled.

[lxvebun]

overflowing love

synopsis: just the boys doting on you

content: soft!Hanma/Rindou/Ran x gender neutral reader. fluff. kissing. consensual waking up by kisses. neck kisses. some canon violence but not towards reader. slightly possessive boys. Use of nicknames pretty baby/angel and sweetheart. let me know if I missed anything.

dark blogs, k!nk blogs and ed blogs do not interact. I will knock your teeth in. Its not hard to respect someones boundaries when it comes to this

୨୧Hanma Shuji

Everyone can see it, the way Shuji softens around you. It's honestly quite funny to see him switch up so quickly once you enter his vicinity. From sitting around with a bored look in his eyes and stern voice throwing around orders (or brutal insults) to physically lighting up, a small smile adorning his face as he makes a grabby hand at you, silently asking you to come into his arms.

"Just need my pretty baby to keep me company, you'll do that for me wont you?" he asks as he pulls you comfortably into his lap, and how could you deny him when his pretty golden eyes are filled with so much love and adoration, while his fingers are tracing heart shapes onto your waist and his lips are pressing soft kisses to your cheek and neck?

It doesn't matter what he was doing before you came in, or who is in the room with him, when Hanma sees you everything else leaves his mind and he's entirely focused on you and your needs. Do you need him? Did you just want to see him? Are you hungry? He can take you out for some food. Do you want to leave? He'll stop the meeting right now!

Some subordinates aren't the biggest fan of Hanma's tendencies when it comes to you, but after what happened the first time someone called him out for it, even going as far to directly insult you about it, no one dares to say anything anymore, or look at you for that measure.

If anyone has a problem with him and his pretty angel and dares to open their mouths about it, that's brave, meet him behind the building and he'll show them exactly why people call him God of Death.

୨୧Haitani Rindou

Rindou has a staring problem. More specifically a problem with staring at you.  Often you catch him looking at you, chin resting on the palm of his hands, blush on his cheeks and little hearts floating around in his eyes, as if he's admiring and studying a painting.

It's not even something he does on purpose. Of course he enjoys looking at his sweetheart, don't get me wrong, But more often than not it's something he does entirely subconscious.

When some of the other executives are over at his place, be it for a meeting or to hangout, his brain randomly decides that he's done with whatever conversation he was having and instead opts to admire you. Just you being you is far more interesting than whatever Sanzu's brabbeling on about.

He enjoys looking at you what more can I say, and can you blame him? Every time he looks at you, warmth spreads throughout his entire body and he falls in love all over again. Every scar and every mole is absolutely gorgeous to him. The way your eyes reflect the moonlight, the way the sun kisses your skin, god it awakens butterflies in him. If you told him you were an angel send down from heaven to watch over him, he would believe it.

No one holds his heart the way you do. Please, treat it gently.

୨୧haitani Ran

It's quite impressive how in tune Ran is with your well being. He picks up on the slightest shifts in your moods, the tone of your voice and expressions. If you're feeling even a tiny bit down, rest assured, Ran knows. He has now made it his life's mission to make you show that pretty smile to him again.

You're the love of his life. He wants nothing more than for you to be happy and taken care of and he's taken it upon himself to do just that. As much as Ran likes being taken care of, enjoying trips to the salon for his hair, getting massages after fights, he adores taking care of you. It's soothing for him as well. He brings hellfire down on people every day. There isn't a day that passes by where he doesn't spit out vile threats or use his trusty baton. So knowing you're safe, relaxed and happy because of him makes him feel a bit more humane

Disrupting his beauty sleep so he can prepare breakfast for you and press kisses to your pretty face as to wake you up instead of that god awful alarm? Tiny sacrifices really, but it's completely worth it seeing that sleepy smile of yours as you pat the spot next to you, silently asking him to come back to bed. And who is he to deny you? if anything it gives him the opportunity to hold you in his arms and feed you bites of breakfast( it makes his heart flutter really

Putting cups on the highest shelf in the cupboard so he has a reason to pick you up? Very amusing to him<3(menace)

Whatever problem you're having, Ran will do his best to solve it, no matter how big or small it is. Be it wrapping you in blankets and holding you in his arms as you cry on his shoulder. Or pay a visit to a creep that doesn't quite understand the gates of hell he opened when they made you uncomfortable.

He was put on this earth to love you, he's certain about that and he will go above and beyond to make sure he's doing a good job at it.

thank you for reading bunnies!<3

[peydawgz]

So ummm....may i request a Hazard x Reader, and reader helps with fine tuning and maintenance on Haz's arm and legs and other cyborg bits (cybits? idk his none fleshy parts). It's soooo qjhfjsiajnsbjiaodhshaksk

[your works are *chefs kiss* and honestly, i shall binge on the feast]

Bruh I done spent a whole day writing this,, all for you my spicy little sun rays,, feast upon THIS!!!!

Hazard found himself flying through the battlefield, hydraulically jumping over enemies to capture his target. He used his large gun arm as a blunt object to bludgeon with, multiple dents as heads continuously crashed against it. The lasers he shot at them were off centered and wild, but he tried to play it off. He was primal, scratching and biting when his gun arm inevitably fell off. He could only shield his team with his vanadium spikes near the end of the battle. He was left more vulnerable than ever, but at least they won, right? The parts are replaceable after all.

The truth is, Fin was struggling out there. His heart couldn’t handle the amount of adrenaline he needed to keep on pushing. The same old parts just weren’t working, leading him to be uncomfortable with his body even more. His teammates help pick up his bits, and settled him into the van. He was trying to be still, but the waves of stress kept coming over him. With his one arm, his hand bloody and shaking he reaches into his leather coat pocket and pulls out a smoke. He rolls down the window,,, just staring on and trying to think.

He noticed that they weren’t driving back to the lair, giving him more anxiety. “Aye, where ya takin us?” He asked. “Look. You need some relaxation, big guy. You keep doing this to yourself, you need to chill. You literally fought your own ass off today, what’s up with that?” Susie makes him shut down a little, like he hasn’t even thought of the fact, but he does chuckle a little. They were all visibly worried about him.

“Alright, ah’ll try. ’m sorry for scarin’ ya.” He admits. When the van pulls up, one runs inside. He doesn’t even know where he is, it looks like they’re in someone’s garage. When they come back, there you are with big work goggles on. He’s enamored by you, the way you smile when you greet him. He didn’t even hear anything you were really saying, it was like his eyes were fixated on you and there was beautiful music in his ears. Suddenly your arms are around him and he’s floating in a dream, giggling to himself.

In reality, you’re just settling him into a wheelchair. “Findlay?” He hears you call his name, looking up. “You alright? You don’t have any brain damage or anything, do you?” You try to shine a light in his eyes, and he sort of snaps out his lovesickness. “Oh, na brain damage. Juist heartache.” He says with a pretty grin.

Your mutual friends are giggling amongst each other, and they’re already betting on the outcome of this interaction. You were just a helpful mechanic, and had a few of your own body mods as well. You’d helped a couple of their team with their tech before, but you were unfamiliar with the big guy other than hearing about him. Hazard is very flirtatious, and although tempting you’ve gotta focus. You bid the other Phreaks goodbye and help Fin into your home/workshop. You have all of his parts laid out on a table already, mangled and twisted as hell.

Your hands were all over him, checking measurements for new parts and fitting different equipment onto his body. “So… what’s yer name?” He asked, and you responded, “Y/N.”

“Oh ye, A've heard yer name around afore. Ye mist be good at yer job!” He says, watching you. That tension from before was lifted away by your angelic fingertips. There was a comfort that you brought to the room. Your place was very cool as well, he’d never seen such an extensive arrangement of tools before.

He chatted with you as you worked on his gear, telling you lots of funny stories and making you laugh. It seemed like his life was full of adventure, he had so much to say about his time in training camps and stories about his friends. When he asked, you told him the story of how you earned your robotic limb. You’d done something courageous to make an effort to save someone else instead of yourself in an accident. He could relate to your pain, and reminded you that the Phreaks would always have a place for you.

“Ye'r fàilte tae hang around mah lot. In fact, ye'r an honorary member already wi' ye helping us out all th' time.” He means well, and you appreciate the offer. “I spent a lot of work to fix up this place to how it is now, I’m not ready to walk away from it. You’re always welcome back here too!” You smile at him. You’re a great listener considering his big mouth. You get his sense of humor, and you don’t have to ask him to repeat himself too much.

You took a little lunch break together, and offered him some of your snacks. You showed him your living area, and he met your animal companion. He has his own dog shared between him and his mates. He is polite and thanks you for the meal, and you reply that it’s no trouble.

Two more hours of work passed by very quickly with more chatting, that slowly twisted into flirting. You stood beside him in his seated position, piecing him back together. His large frame was bent to your every will, telling him to move this way and that. He was like a puppy, following your every command in hope of a treat.

You knelt down, your hand holding his nubby leg and attaching new parts on. You looked over his tattoos and asked about them, interested in their meanings. You showed him so much care throughout the whole process, he was lucky to have you. He was put back together properly, and you helped him up out of the chair to stand on his own two feet again. His hands lingered in yours for a bit longer than intended, and he was towering above you, looking into your eyes with a happy expression.

When you moved back, he expressed his great condition by flexing for you and doing some moves, which you enjoyed. He was very ripped, nearly busting out of the leather jacket he wore. “This is th' best a've felt in ages!” He exclaimed as he explored his new limits. Your additions added a much needed comfort to his parts, and perhaps now he wouldn’t get so beat up now that he had something to appreciate.

He couldn’t help himself but give you a big ol hug, you were surrounded in his hefty arms as he picked you up in the process. You were just happy to help him, and wanted to see him at his best again. He was powerful like this now, and he had a new confidence to bring home with him. He stuck around a little while longer to express his gratitude, and he told you he’d be back again soon.

You missed him a little once he was gone,, a lot of people acted too punk to talk to you, or rude so they could show off to your friends. He was one of a kind, truly on your side. Maybe it was a mirage and he was showing you his nice side, like so many others have manipulated you. You were worried when you should have been happy at the gift he left on your doorstep- a potted plant along with some treats for your animal, and a little handwritten note. You missed him when he came knocking on your door-but he’ll come back to see what you think.

It lingered on your mind, as you watered the plant and found a spot for it, what his true intentions were. You’d find out, soon enough.

It was late at night, and you were drifting asleep when suddenly an alarm was triggered. You looked up at the clock, confused at first before you realize it’s a burglar, a crash coming from within the house. You shoot out of bed, grabbing something to defend yourself with and head out. For a second, in your sleepy state you thought it would be Hazard.

“Haz?” You called out, turning a light on one after one. Your animal was hissing/growling at the closed door to the garage. You moved it behind you,listening to the crashing around and the alarm screaming, before opening the door. At the same time, Hazard had made his way through the front door appearing at the same moment you locked eyes with the robber.

Your weapon pointed at them, and they dropped theirs along with everything they intended to steal. They looked terrified of you, but when you looked behind you Hazard was there. His metal gun pointed right between their eyes.

He defends you and your sanctuary, protecting what is rightfully yours and sending this scumbag a painful message. The robber got thrown out to deal with the authorities, and you were left shaken up, trying to laugh it off with Hazard at your side.

“Thanks for helping me deal with that,, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You take him into a hug, grateful to have him.

“Aye, yer welcome. Am glad I checked on ya. Wha’ you think o my gift?” He leans into your welcoming touch. The way you were so soft, treating him the same was melting his heart. You’re feeling the same energy- he is not as scary as he presents himself, and you feel a new warmth that once was not there.

“The plant is very pretty, it’s up in my window. My pet also really liked the snacks. I love it,,, I don’t get gifts very often.”

He pats your head in a loving manner, and helps you clean up the mess. You see now, these actions are his way of showing you he means no harm. He’s honestly trying to to show his gratitude for all you’ve done. After it’s all cleaned up, it’s just you and him in the dimly lit space.

You try to reassure him you’ll be okay, but he seems worried about your well-being after the stunt with the burglar. You eventually ask if he wants to stay the night, and he accepts. You were joking at first, but he actually said yes.

So you lay on the couch with him at your side, watching a movie as you share a snack. You end up falling asleep against him and he doesn’t want to move an inch in fear of making you uncomfortable. You’re as cute as a kitten, your body in a circle shape snuggled against his side. His arm rests on your back, and he leans his head back, falling asleep shortly in time.

You wake up cuddled up like Hazard’s teddy bear. The fluffy blanket covers you both and your animal is sound asleep under your legs. Fin is awake with his eyes closed, enjoying this nice soft moment he didn’t think he’d get to have. His gun arm is unattached and laying on the floor. He feels your fingers caress over his shape, running over his hard muscles and shoulders before resting on his cheek. His eyes open and you look at each other, sharing the moment of waking up together. You smile, and you both begin to laugh before he moves in to steal a kiss.

You’re startled, even though you saw this coming, you embraced it anyways. Your heart was racing just from the little peck, it felt so good to be loved. You smooch him back, in a swift motion before you climb over him and off the couch. Loving him just came naturally to you, you hoped this was a sign things were meant to be.

“A’ll take ya to get breakfast, love. Maybe we could have a lil’ date?” He pulls you back into his chest for another cuddle. He’ll treat you good until he runs out of everything, you mean a lot to him.