#pep talk radio
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peptalkradio · 8 months ago
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katriniac · 2 years ago
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Randomly recommended podcasts!
I love podcasts, but I don't get to listen to them as frequently as I wish.
There are some really amazing ones out there I learn so much from, and others are very entertaining. I thought I'd share some of my favorites with y'all. Not all of these are current shows. In fact, some haven't added a new episode in over a year. But I myself may have only just recently discovered the show and therefore it's new to me.
I'll break this up into different parts due to Tumblr's photo limitations. I have no idea if these podcasts are available everywhere, but I subscribe to them via Google Podcasts.
Part 1: Creativity, Imagination, Neuroscience
:readmore:
Imagination Radio
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Scientific Imagination
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Parallel Lives
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All in the Mind
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Creativity in Captivity
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Into the Impossible with Brian Keating
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Imagination Desk
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Creative Chats Podcast
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Creative Pep Talk
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Hidden Brain
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steddieasitgoes · 4 days ago
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Okay I’m halfway through The Dustin Experiment and here are some fun snippets you might consider using in fics/art:
- Dustin occasionally going with Steve and Robin to their after school Family Video shifts to hang out with them
- Steve lets the kids rent movies without actually running it through the system and Robin hates it because of the Karate Kid incident
- The jocks are genuinely afraid of Eddie
- Eddie and Dustin hit it off after Dustin fixes Eddie’s Walkman and later his amp
- Dustin and Suzie have radio dates twice a week and they even started their own book club
- Eddie made Dustin a mix tape full of metal songs “because man cannot live on Weird Al alone”
- Robin likes to launch paper footballs at Steve’s head while he’s restocking
- Claudia loves her son so much she doesn’t care that he continuously blows the power of the whole house
- Robin offers to mediate for Dustin and Lucas since they’re not talking
- Steve’s Saturdays are “booked weeks in advance”
- Dustin ask Eddie to drive him to Indy and says “Help me, Eddie-Wan Kenobi” ; Eddie is not amused
- Dustin learns Max moved to Forest Hills after he leaves Eddie’s house and spots her
- Robin DOES mediate between the boys and makes them do trust falls which she makes Steve help her demonstrate
- Steve is apparently afraid of a show called Turbo Teen
- Dustin (and all the boys) write to Will to the point where he knows what’s going on including hellfire and Lucas’s basketball try outs
- Will even sends Dustin a sketch title card for his science fair poster
- Eddie is afraid of ducks because they’re “pure evil” and “have eyes that can look into your soul and do irreparable psychic damage”
- Dustin’s dad cheated on Claudia and when they divorced they moved back to Hawkins
- Eddie gives Dustin a pep talk when he’s nervous about the science fair and tells him it’s okay to be nervous and that he still gets nervous before gigs
- Eddie told an entire group of science fair kids a scary story
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colourstreakgryffin · 8 months ago
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I had a silly idea, what about an Cheshire Cat!reader x Alastor? (Feel free not to do this dearie ( ·∀·) )
Haha. OMFG. A Cheshire Cat would really match with Alastor well! So, thank you, Lady Beelzebub! I’ll try this out!
Alastor- A Little Game
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Vaggie has been so frustrated. Charlie has been trying to ease the crew. Husk is on the verge of murdering somebody. Niffty is annoyed that her cleaning equipment is gone. Angel is quite amused by what’s going on and Alastor is very invested in the cause
Lately, the Hazbin Hotel has been dealing with a suddenly appearing invisible menace causing pranks after pranks nonstop; locking or trapping up doors, stealing items and storing them high up, whispering out in the halls at night
Alastor didn’t suspect he’d ever run into the culprit of all this trouble but he has. After Charlie had been giving Vaggie a calmdown pep talk, the Princess politely asked Alastor to check around the hallways for any more prank remnants, the Overlord did so, just to see what he may find… and he made a incredible discovery
A floating cat-like sinner with magenta and pink colouring, most importantly, a big Cheshire wide grin. A rival of Alastor’s own smile and with almost half a body, as if cut in half
The sinner was in the midst of setting up a trap consisting a big silver bucket full of thick blood over the top of Alastor’s own hotel room door, but they’ve been caught in the act
And Alastor doesn’t plan on dealing out punishment… he’s too amused
“Ah… you must be the little troublesome beast causing so much disrupt in this Hotel?” Alastor asks almost immediately with literally no malice towards what’s been going on, his transatlantic accent smooth and almost making his voice sound more friendly and warm than he actually is as this cat sinner… or otherwise, you
Just giggles under your breath and disappears into thin air properly with the wide grin floating in the air for a few seconds almost magically before dissipating with you
“And if I have?” Your voice rings out after a few more seconds of silence, disembodied, invisible. You can’t be tracked with eyes but Alastor’s powerful magic can pinpoint where you are by detecting your own demonic magic, sharply looking over his shoulder to be greeted with your floating head
Just your head… no body, it’s like before when it was half of your torso. Now, it’s just your head. Your magic is a lot like the storybook fairytale character, Cheshire Cat
But that’s because you’re the most Cheshire Cat person anybody will ever met. Alastor couldn’t help but be so amused by you; you’re skilled, you’re snarky, you know what you’re doing and you’re resourceful, good at planning
Able to have avoided being caught by everybody in the Hotel for months now and you’re lucky enough to have been caught by the one member who enjoyed the chaos and madness the pranks caused
“I believe you must avoid the others if so” Alastor proclaims, almost mysterious and still silky in that radio-laced but classy and dapper tone as you tilt your head confused. For the first time, you’ve been snapped out of your mischievous chaotic demeanour
You suspected him to bark, to growl, to be annoyed so him not is so odd to you but quickly brushing it off, you manifest your whole body into frame. Cute fluffy striped cat-like ears flicking and long fluffy cat-like tail curling around, almost like a coil spring
You couldn’t really understand this Overlord, something you don’t like. You’d prefer people to be confused by you, by your style of insanity and madness, by your enjoyment of causing so much disorder and high-tension emotions
You were about to speak, basically floating over his shoulder before Alastor beats you to the punch. You can’t tell if you’ll like him or despise him with the way he speaks, almost condescending
“If you’re going to make my project topsy-turvy, I suggest do a better prank”
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sugoi-writes · 6 months ago
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Morning! I have a little silly idea for Alastor x Reader and wanted to share :D
Reader is stressed over some big event that is about to happen in the Hotel (like idk maybe they're throwing a ball or some gala to encourage more sinners to check in) and while she's giving a pep talk to everyone she absentmindedly starts fixing Alastors bowtie/coat/hair and everyone expects him to snap at you (you two were more of rivals than friends) but instead he smiles at you softly and fixes your necklace. You two only realize what you did when Angel "quietly" asks as a joke when did the two of you get married 😅
Sorry this took so long!!! I hope this is doing your prompt a little bit of justice! Please enjoy!!!
No warnings for this one, really! Just some good old fluff and pining (which I DESPERATELY need to work on, HAHA--)
♥️♥️♥️
Everything was hung in place, not a tassel or a drape awry. The decorations and accents, deep reds and lush golds, adorned every surface you could see. It was... gaudy. But it was perfect.
When all was said and done, you clasped your hands together, a triumphant smile on your face. Charlie, being the sweetheart she was, tasked you with orchestrating the grand-reopening ball. She had to admit, it was nice to throw the reigns to someone else for a while. She definitely got some MUCH needed time alone with Vaggie, who was also more than willing to take a backseat.
Your voice cut through the chatter like a knife, silence behalfing the room with your address," Alright... guys, everything looks great. The place looks perfect. Everyone is looking--"
As your eyes flit about the hotel residents, you spy a freshly-apparated Alastor, who was... off. Physically, you mean. You squint for a moment, spying three things: Hair, Bowtie, Handkerchief.
"Sh-Sharp... everyone looks sharp."
Without thinking, you marched right up to the Radio Demon, collective gasps around the room as you touched him. Looks of bewilderment, horror, and amusement surrounded you both. You were preening him, adjusting him... unannounced? With no physical repercussions? How were you still alive?
Both hands shimmied the black bowtie into place," The music is covered, thank you for the recommendations, Alastor--"
"Anytime, dear," he quipped, not flinching in the slightest. His eyes were trained forward, avoiding eye contact as you pat his chest. Charlie's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her skull as you pulled out the handkerchief, refolding and placing it back into Alastor's breast pocket. Another, resolute tap to his chest, and Angel's brain was short circuiting.
"Right-- like I was saying, everything is PERFECT. I need everyone on their BEST behavior when the doors open-- you especially, Angel. Everyone has their roles--"
Angel squinted, pouting as he shifted his weight... His head cocked to the side with a smirk, as if to say 'speak for yourself'! You strained onto your tiptoes, fluffing and adjusting Alastor's fringe, completely oblivious. There was a tinge of hair gel in Alastor's crimson, which surprised you. He had really gone the extra mile... albeit, still a little under perfect. Or maybe, you had just never noticed how much effort he put into his appearance?
"Niffty: keep an eye on the buffet and clean any and all messes. Angel, intel and vibe-checker. We have some big-wigs coming tonight, and I'm sure we could weasel our way into their good graces-- Make sure they're drinking, eating, dancing-- yknow!!! Having a good time!"
Alastor leans his head down for you, allowing easier access to his hair. You silently thank him, your tangent continuing," Charlie, Vaggie: you know the drill. Get them hooked on this place. Give them the razzle-dazzle to get them to stay. Lucifer, sir, you're in charge of the fireworks. I'm sure you have something ENTIRELY too bombastic for this, but-- just try not to scare anyone off tonight, sir???"
Lucifer, though still flabbergasted, gave you a pair of finger guns. This was his way of giving silent acknowledgement.
"Husk, of course: you're on drink detail. The more booze, the looser these guys get. The more likely they'll cave and stay the evening or become a patron--"
You blinked as warm hands were on your collarbone, adjusting your necklace. Though your face burned brightly, you didn't utter a word as Alastor finished his adjustments, giving you a pat on the shoulder. You looked up towards him, a friendly smile shot your way.
No words were exchanged, just smiles. You nod to Alastor, before turning to face the crowd. You weren't expecting to see looks of confusion and shock: everyone looked like deer in headlights. You sigh, chuckling a bit as you crossed your arms," C'mon guys, I know everyone is nervous about reopening to the public today, but we've got this!!! Seriously, everything is absolutely perfect now and--"
"If I can cut in real quick, toots-- are we plannin' a weddin'?" Angel retorts, fanning his hand back and forth between you and the Radio Demon.
"I mean-- not that I'm complainin', but y'gotta warn a guy first. I would've worn somethin' else for such a special day~"
You blink, utterly confused, before it finally clicked. You sputter dramatically, eyes wide and face heated from the implications," I don't-- I don't know what you mean, Angel--"
"Oh honey, we aren't BLIND. Admit it, you're mackin' with Tall, Dark, McNasty. And honestly, I get it. Chase your dreams or whateva. It's kinda cute~"
There were murmurs from the other crew, loosely agreeing to Angel's sentiments.You take a step forward to say something, before a hand clamps onto your shoulder. Your face only grew warmer as Alastor stepped in front of you. His pleasant smile strained, his annoyance further proven by his left, twitching eye.
"Now now, let's not lead the night with accusations and gossip-- though I'm usually a big fan myself~," Alastor mused, his grin widening.
" I'm afraid you all have the wrong idea-- I was just simply making sure everything was perfect. Just as our party host is." Alastor turns to you now, his smile softening," And that's exactly what tonight will be, with you at the helm: perfectly executed."
Angel snorts, leaning over towards Husk as he covers his mouth. A hushed whisper and an eyebrow wiggle are thrown his way," Oh, they're DEFINITELY fuckin'~"
You nearly shrieked as you cover your face with both hands, frustrated," Shut up, shut up, just-- UGH. L-Let's get to our battle stations, guys-- doors open in FIVE MINUTES," you bark. The nervous energy in the hall multiplies before dispersing, as everyone made themselves busy. It was very clear that everyone was trying to ignore the elephant in the room (and failing miserably). You do your best not to smudge your polished appearance as you turn on your heel, making your way towards the bar.
Immediately, you give it a knock, two fingers out. Husker nods, pouring you a double shot of your preferred poison. Swiftly swallowing the elixir of courage, you felt some of the embarrassment melt away. A familiar presence appears beside you, mimicking your knock and drink order. You sigh as Alastor's hand comes into your line of sight, eyes naturally following it as he swirled his drink, before downing it. You couldnt help but focus on the bob of his adam's apple, before you had the decency to look away. Alastor grinned down to you, tilting his head.
"Still troubled by their words, dear?"
You groan," D-Don't call me that, Alastor... Angel's going to feel like he's right," you reply, holding the bridge of your nose. Alastor laughs, leaning against the counter," Oh come now, I'm sure this whole mess will roll off your back by night's end~" Alastor teases, jazz hands accenting his playfuk tone. You groan again, frustrated," UGH, no, if HE'S distracted by that, EVERYONE here will be-- I just-- I don't wanna cause any unnecessary attention. 'For EITHER of us. You have your gambit for tonight, and I have mine... We need this to go WELL, not to be the talk of the town..."
Alastor leans against the counter, back pressing into it as he looks your way. Normally, he would continue to goad you into a precious, pathetic mess, but the look on your face felt too... troubled. You really were overthinking things, his eye catching the way you bit your lip.
The two shots he ingested already softened his edge, his head lolling to the other side," ...'a little advice, then?" You look over at Alastor, surprised by the change of subject.
"Sure. Might as well," you quip, resting your chin on your hand as Husk whisks away your empty glasses.
"If you walk around the room like your hair is on fire, the entire operation goes up in flames... This is commonly seen in management, but works just the same here," Alastor states, pretending to be fascinated with his talons.
"And truly, for tonight, you are the leader, the ringmaster of this event... the others will ask questions, and look to you for guidance. If you walk around like everything is going to fail, then it is destined to. So perk up!" Alastor's hand finds your chin, forcing you to look his way. Your breath catches for a moment, your eyes settling on his face. It was flushed, warm... and a hint of something you can't describe. He was being unreasonably chaste. Is this what Mimzy meant by "sweet as a kitten"?
"I think everything will go as it should, as long as you keep a cool head, dear. And if you can't, well...," Alastor grins as he knocks on the counter, each of you receiving another drink.
"--there's always liquid courage to settle the nerves."
You nod slowly, processing his words. Real, genuine advice... and, some sincerity sprinkled in? Were you really that drunk already??? Deftly, you picked up your glass, almost downing it before Alastor stops you.
" A toast, first."
Alastor grins as he picks up his own glass, clinking it against yours," To your success, my dear."
You move in autopilot as you clink back against his drink," Y-Yeah uhh... to the Hotel's future," you added, the two of swallowing your drinks hastily. Alastor straightens his posture, reaching over to squeeze your arm in reassurance. The radio in the room flicks to a new frequency, changing to a modern, catchy song that you recognized.
" Th-This is--"
"Your favorite, right?" Alastor finishes, his grin widening," Well dear, I am nothing if not accommodating. For tonight, let's have a little fun. Change things up." You nearly jump out of your skin as the front lobby doors begin to open, Alastor's eyes meeting yours.
"I expect to have your first dance. Meet me when you'd like to accept the offer."
And with that, Alastor leaves you, melding into his shadow form to flit to another spot in the room. You blink a few times, still reeling from the entire interaction. You hadn't told Alastor your favorite song. Not even once. And, you never dared to listen to it in front of him, fearing that he would disregard you or even chastise you for your taste.
You feel your heart swelling as you search for Alastor again, mouth falling open in silent protest. You wanted to pester him, ask him how he was able to know something so personal.... However, you are greeted by a sharply dressed demon, all too eager to make your acquaintance.
You allow your hand to be kissed, and pleasantries were exchanged. But ultimately... you felt your eyes constantly searching for Alastor. Maybe Angel was right, you thought... Maybe you did have something going on between the two of you. You felt a blossom that had remained so stubborn finally experience it's long-awaited bloom.
Maybe you did like Alastor. Maybe, just maybe, he liked you too... As the night grew longer, you realized that you just might be content with that.
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theemporium · 1 year ago
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yes lando comfort fic where maybe you weren’t at qatar but after yesterday took the first flight there. and it’s just full of hugs, kisses, massages, praise, pep talks. He’s got his head on your chest or in your lap :(
my heart actually breaks for the boy :(
.
The second you saw the qualifying results, you knew you had to fly out. 
You hadn’t originally planned to. You were swamped with classes and lectures and work, and after taking time off to travel to Singapore and Japan with him, you couldn’t exactly afford to take more time off for Qatar as well. 
And Lando had been understanding. To be honest, he was just happy you had taken time out to join him on two race weekends that turned out pretty damn well in respect to the start of the season. And he knew no matter what he said about compensating for your time off work, you wanted to go back before you eventually flew out to join him in the last stint of races. 
But that was before the shit-show of the Qatar Grand Prix weekend started. 
You hadn’t been able to talk to him earlier that day, too late running for work that a simple reply to his good morning message was the only thing you could send. Nor did you have the chance to keep up with the practice session. However, when you opened your phone after walking out of work to see the qualifying results, you didn’t even hesitate. 
You had played it all out perfectly, getting onto the next plane out to Qatar whilst messaging your boss that you had a stomach bug and couldn’t come in until you stopped vomiting. You had shared a few messages here and there with Lando, but he didn’t seem all too eager to talk to you, let alone anyone after the messy qualifying session. 
You didn’t arrive at the paddock until the sprint had already started, and it only went downhill from there. You thought the McLaren front row lock out would have brought up morale, but you were wrong. 
It was shit. You knew the second he crossed the line in P3 that he wasn’t going to be happy with himself. You knew it, and yet, the second his radio came through confirming as such, your heart only broke more. 
You knew your boy. You knew he would be keeping it all in. But you knew no matter what, he wouldn’t break in front of everyone else. He would pat Oscar on the back and he would play the good teammate and happy chap as best he could to the media. He would play his part. 
Until he said five words that truly shattered your heart.
“Just a lack of talent.”
The second he was done with interviews, he just wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to listen to whatever his team were saying, he didn’t want to deal with the debrief and strategy planning for tomorrow’s race. He just wanted to be fucking alone so he could stop pretending. 
He was almost annoyed when he saw his driver room door was open, ready to snap at whoever it was lingering inside his room. But then he was standing at the doorway and he saw you in the room, a sad smile on your face as you waited for him, and every resolve within him crumbled in seconds. 
The door was slammed shut and he was barrelling towards you before you could even open your mouth. His arms locked around your waist, his face was nuzzled into the crook of your neck and he sunk into your embrace, almost like it was a sigh of relief. 
“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered to him, clinging onto him tightly.
And then, he just sobbed.
You didn’t say anything as he cried in your arms, simply holding him and hugging him and doing your best to sway back and forth as his body wracked with sobs. And when he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore, you sat down on the couch with his head buried in your lap as you slowly wiped away the tears streaming down his face, hot and flushed and embarrassed but he didn’t care about his mask when he was with you.
“I’m not good enough,” he whispered, his voice raspy from all the crying.
You blanched. “Lando—”
“Five fucking seasons,” he murmured, his glossy eyes looking anywhere but you, because he knew he would start crying again if he looked at you and he was far too tired for that. “I have been doing this for five seasons and everyone keeps fucking expecting that I get a win and it’s not happened—”
“Lando,” you tried again, but he continued.
“He’s a fucking rookie,” Lando whispered in disbelief. “I just….this is just what they need. This is what they need to say that I’m done, that I’m fucking useless, that I don’t deserve my seat and I’m just some waste of fucking space that can’t even win a fucking race and—”
“Hey,” you snapped enough to finally gain his attention. “Look at me.”
He shook his head.
“Lando,” you said in a softer voice as your palm cupped his cheek, gently turning his head until he was looking up at you. “Look at me.” 
“I’m not good enough to be here,” he whispered in a broken voice. “I’m not as good as they say I am. As they expected me to be.”
“That’s bullshit and we both know it,” you whispered back, shaking your head as you took in his glossy eyes and pink cheeks.
Lando started shaking his head again, but you continued. 
“Lando Norris, you are one of the most talented and skilled drivers in this sport,” you said to him. “One weekend does not define you, nor does it take away from all your achievements.”
“I made stupid mistakes—” He started again.
“And everyone does,” you countered. “Everyone makes mistakes, Lando. That’s what makes us human, but that does not make us not good enough or untaleneted.”
He didn’t say anything. 
“Your day will come,” you said as your thumb gently stroked the apple of his cheek. “And it will be fucking amazing. And I can’t wait to be standing there, watching you on that top step as you hit that stupid champagne bottle and try not to break your trophy. And it will be the first of many.”
He let out a small huff of amusement. 
“You are more than enough, Lando, and I’m so proud of you,” you whispered to him, your eyes finding his so he could see the sincerity in your voice and words. “And you’re enough whether you have a million race wins or none. You are enough just the way you are.”
Lando sniffled, giving you a wet smile—and it wasn’t much, but it was a step forward. 
“I love you,” you whispered with a soft smile. “And I’ll love you no matter what.”
“I love you too,” he whispered back as he nuzzled himself further into your lap. “Thank you for coming.”
“Always, baby,” you grinned. “I’m always gonna be here for you.”
“Promise?” 
Your heart almost broke with how vulnerable he sounded. 
“Promise.” 
.
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hazelfoureyes · 7 months ago
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A Doe in Fall (Part 3)
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⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie
Part 3 A tragedy 
So enraptured with Alastor, you forgot how you left work on Saturday. Tommy didn’t forget. And he made sure you remembered. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for you, your paramour made a habit of helping quicken karma’s balancing act.
「warnings/promises: immediate physical assault (let’s be up front about that), allusions to sexual assaults having happened in the past to non-reader characters, HumanAlastor x FemReader, penetrative sex, Protective Alastor, bruises, somewhat graphic descriptions of murder, mentions to coerced prostitution, sex near a corpse (words that have the FBI watching me), stabbing, knife, bad burlesque names, gambling, my own new HC for the Radio Demon’s origins, another deer reference thanks to @n-after-me , chin quivering, Tommy doesn’t know French and it shows, posted early for @jazzmasternot, wrath」
Minors DNI 🤺
You walked into the theatre for rehearsals with a pep in your step, body still humming. It was like the usual adrenaline rush Alastor brought couldn't fade this time.
But it did, when Tommy grabbed you by the hair out of your makeup chair and threw you into the wall. 
You couldn’t react, head ringing after it left a small indent in the drywall. Unlike before, you didn’t try to stand. Make him work for his second hit. And he did. Leaning down he yanked you off the ground by your arm and dragged you to your feet. 
“Do you think you’re funny?” He shook you, you were sure you could feel your brain jostle. It was rhetorical, but you replied anyway.
“No, Tommy.”
“No. Exactly.” He backed you up onto the make up table, head pressed into the mirror. “Mr. Wilson was not happy. He pulled his contribution. I know you don’t have that kind of money. Do you know what you’re gonna do?”
His fingers dug into your cheeks, “No.” You genuinely didn’t. He was talking to you like you had been in the loop on whatever it was he had been doing on the side. All of this was as shocking to you as your actions were, apparently, to him. 
“You’re gonna take whatever meetings I make until that money is back.” He let go of you and turned to leave but changed his mind. Coming back, he swung his fist and clocked you on the left side of your face.
You didn’t see it, but you heard the other girls running and pulling Tommy off of you, yelling and pleading for him to calm down.
“I worked really hard for you!” He shouted, jerking his shoulders out from under the hands of the other performers. What was he talking about? You hadn’t discussed any of this, asked for any thing from him. “I waited for a high roller for you. Real classy guy. Just wanted a private show! That was it!” He spit, “No, every Tom, Dick, and Harry is welcome now to ask for your time.”
You just held your face, unsure if you had the right makeup to hide the bruise before stage call. 
“Well?! Say you’re sorry.”
You considered not saying anything. No response. When you looked at him, you could see the half a dozen other girls staring back at you, just say it. We have to rehearse.
“I’m sorry.” Eyes cast to the floor.
“For what?”
It hurt when you rolled your eyes, “For being ungrateful?” 
He shoulder checked a few girls on the way out. A couple came to you.
“He’s got some gambling debt, he’s just using us to get ahead.”
“I have some stuff to cover that up for tonight.”
“He usually cuts us in.”
Tears stung your eyes, you were angry and humiliated. You could work elsewhere, with a little luck. Take a job at a diner out of the area where no regulars would stir up trouble. Maybe leave until Tommy got his debts paid off or whatever was motivating this recent streak of cruelty. But you didn’t want to run away. No one applauded waitresses. Maybe if you made yourself as unattractive as possible, no one would request you. Dirty your teeth, talk about other men, speak crudely. 
“What exactly was he talking about?” you asked no one in particular. The girls were quiet for a beat.
“Well ya know, private shows for clients who can afford it.” High pitched and nasal, Florence spoke as she searched her make up station.
“That’s it?” Incredulous.
“Sometimes. You know how it is… woman left alone in a room with a man who has too much money or ego or drink. Doesn’t always stop at a dance.” Minnie had much more experience than you, “It isn’t our jobs. It isn’t normal. But, well, ya heard about New York right? They’re trying to make burlesque outright illegal…”
“Gotta enjoy the art while it’s just misunderstood.” Florence wiped down your mirror before setting her supplies down for you. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”
By the time patrons began to stream in, you had blood staining the white of your left eye. Nothing you could do, but maybe at a distance it wouldn’t be noticeable. The bruise under your eye from his fist was easy enough to cover. The contusion from where your right cheek hit the wall was a little harder. 
Luckily, the stage offered a buffer of space and the rest of the room was dark. 
During your show, you tried to keep your eyes moving so the red sclera never stayed in one place too long. For the first time, the cheers did nothing for you. You felt your chin quiver, fighting back tears. You wanted to scream, to tell them to hate you and leave. Stop fucking clapping.
Ruth was naturally the first to come to you after your performance, “Want me to do the tour with you? Arm in arm around the hall.”
You took her up on the offer. It lightened the load, her taking charge of the conversation when people approached or bought you drinks. Luckily the bartender always poured the performers weak cocktails and watered down liquor to keep their heads on straight. 
Ruth’s companionship afforded you precious time to plan, to consider how quickly you could find new work or at least a way out of this.
“What a treat. Two for one. Can I buy you both a drink?” 
Ruth turned first to greet the customer, “Ooh yes sir! Gin and tonic, please and thank you. Autumn?” Your stage name drew your attention back to the world, turning finally.
“Alastor.” It fell from your mouth like a lead balloon.
He smiled down at you, his hand offering a little wave, “Hello. Surprise.” 
Your face fell, a frown pulling down your chin. It took you too long to recover, batting your eyelashes and turning the corners of your lips up unnaturally. 
“So you do have a beau!” Ruth slapped your arm, “I’m Skye, Skye Scraper. Pleasure to meet you, Alastor.” She extended her hand, Alastor planting a kiss on the back of it, concealing his smile at the name.
You tried to keep your eyes on the floor, head turned slightly away from him to obscure the neon sign of an eye shouting, ‘Weak!’
Unfortunately for you, Alastor wasn’t an oblivious man. Unless he was dancing or drunk. “May I have a moment alone with her?” Alastor asked Ruth. Ruth looked to you for your okay, and you just nodded. She gave a little nod of her own to Alastor and slinked away. 
“Are you unhappy to see me, dear? Did I overstep by coming by unannounced?” You hadn’t heard him worried before, it pained you. 
“No, no! I am… so happy to see you. I just had a long day.” You scanned the room for the darkest area to bring him. A booth would be best, you could keep him on one side of you. You gestured with a nod of your head.
“Ah, I kept you out too late.” Alastor didn’t move.
“Not at all, come on let’s sit down.” You reached back for his hand without looking at him, but when you pulled he still didn’t move. He remembered the way you pulled at the hand of that man in the alley the first night you met. Desperate to escape somewhere. 
“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?”
Lie. 
“Uh, no, I’m just embarrassed about this heavy stage makeup.” 
Alastor paused, hand slipping from yours to adjust his sleeves. It was a nervous action, an attempt to self soothe, but you didn’t know that. “I should have asked before coming.”
“Alastor, it’s not…,” you kept your eyes down at your hands.
“Then look at me.”
Would he think you were incapable of protecting yourself? His pity would kill you. Perhaps he would decide a second rate burlesquer wasn’t worth making time for anymore.
You could intentionally wound him, say you don’t want to see him so he leaves. But that sword was double edged and you weren’t sure you’d survive that either. You weren’t making it out of this.
You finally looked at him. He leaned in, “What happened to your eye?” A slender finger gently tilting your chin upward.
Lie. 
You thought too long for an answer. Why were you getting worse at lying? It used to be one of your best shields and swords but now you were so slow on the draw you were left defenseless. Vulnerable. His hand took yours, gently pulling you into the lobby and through the glass doors of the theatre.
Under the bright lights of the marquee and the street lamps, Alastor inspected your face. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, wetting it in his mouth before wiping the makeup off of your under eye.
“Alastor, people are staring.” 
His eyes fell down, soft hands lifting your arm where a bruise was already formed. You hadn’t noticed that one.
“What happened?” He wasn't looking at you when he said it, instead cautiously wiping the makeup off your cheeks in search of more marks.
“The truth or wh-“
“Always. Never give me anything else.”
You sighed, and explained, “Tommy, the manager, he’s been shifting tactics for bringing in money because he owes some big bads a lot of debt. Private shows with performers that sometimes get hands on…,” his hands stopped moving but his eyes didn’t meet yours, “I never asked to be included in it. I wouldn’t do it. I was rude to a man Tommy introduced me to and I ran off Saturday. Yada Yada. He got me as soon as I got to work.”
Alastor didn’t reply, just turned on his heels and marched back into the theater. You chased after him, “I don’t need you to fight my battles!” You tried to get in front of him but he walked right past you.
“Not about what you need, dear, it's about what he deserves.” 
Alastor asked the bartender for Tommy, who pointed to the short but stocky man talking to a group of guests. Alastor approached so quickly Tommy didn’t have time to greet him, instead just backing up until he fell ass first into a booth. Alastor boxed him in, one hand on the wall and one on the table, towering over Tommy as he sat.
“I hear you sell dancers by the night.”
You paced the lobby nervously. Would you be fired? What would Alastor say? Would Tommy hit him, too?
He re-emerged, “Come to my car, please.” He didn't stop walking as he said it. 
You followed a few blocks down to his car, parked on the street. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it behind you. You wanted to ask if you were going somewhere, but thought better of it. A tight u-turn, he pulled the car into the side street where you’d first met each other.
Wordlessly he got out of the car, you opening your door before he could. Popping the trunk, he set the folded canvas inside a paper bag. Checking first, he placed it inside one of the tin trash cans. 
You stood, waiting for an explanation.
Finally he stopped and made eye contact with you. “You have a date tomorrow, with me. Bring this to the apartment above the theater before Tommy and I arrive.” Opening your mouth to speak, he didn’t stop to let you add anything. “Preferably near the bed.” He closed the trunk, “Wear red, please.”
You searched his face for some kind of discernible emotion but found none. Those constricted pupils again, an animal staring back at you from behind a pair of glasses. There was no reason to ask him, it was obvious what was going to happen. Did you want to stop it? 
Did you want to see it? Alastor at work?
“Okay. On all the points.” You looked back at the trashcan, “Canvas hidden near the bed. Wear red.”
“The extra clothes can go anywhere out of sight.” He leaned down, kissing your forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Your voice cracked a little, “Wait, you’re leaving already?”
He nodded, “I can’t stay here.” Before getting into his car he turned and added, “Don’t cover the bruises tomorrow. He should see them.”
You nodded in return, “Are you doing this for me?” So quiet you almost hoped he didn’t hear it.
He paused, one leg already in the car and his back to you, “No. I’m doing it for everyone.”
You watched his car light up and leave the alley.
It’s not that you felt abandoned, you felt…. Stranded. You had to go back in there, alone, and put on the normal act but under abnormal conditions. 
So it was happening. You hadn’t seen the first time. Just felt it. You didn’t see the second. You were going to actually see a man die. Not just a man, someone you knew. Someone you used to consider a friend of sorts. Before he got into whatever trouble was driving him to act like a flesh peddler. Could you do it? Could you watch a man be killed? Was that even what Alastor had planned?
Tommy found you the second you were back in the room, hand pressing too hard on the bruises he left on your arm. “You have a meeting tomorrow after your show. If you don’t show up,” he yanked you close, putrid breath of dead teeth you’d never been bothered by before this moment and bad booze assaulting your senses, “I will fucking kill you.”
You almost started laughing, bringing your hand to your mouth to hide your smile. “Okay Tommy.” 
Fuck it. He was going to die anyway, might as well make it a date. 
Ruth saddled up beside you as soon as Tommy was out of earshot, “Look at that smile. Quickie in the alley?”
Disgust, “Jesus, Skye, I was gone like, 5 minutes.” She shrugged. “Why does everyone think — is everyone fucking their daddies* in the side street?” She nodded. “Well, I’m not.”
“Prude.” She joshed before linking your arm in hers again, “We’ve got at least another hour of schmoozing. Tits up!”
Your smile came effortlessly that night, a thrum of excitement keeping you light on your feet. Not excitement for death, but for the very concept of being closer to Alastor. Would you see it happen, in front of you? Or would he have you leave? Either way, you were an active participant with a task list.
He trusted you, even if in a small way. Trust was so rarely given from the people who mattered. Men trusted you often; to be sweet when they tell you they were embarrassed about something, to lie when they ask if you orgasmed, to not steal their cash when they blacked out with their pants still on. Pulling it from strangers was one of your greatest pleasures. But it was easy. You were skilled. 
Yet again, like so often now, Alastor was the exception. He didn’t toss himself at your feet. He stood tall in front of you and on his own terms offered you the things you wanted. You didn’t have to pretend to be demure, you didn’t have sit on his lap in silence and nod and laugh. Just yourself, as much as you could allow yourself to exist in the world. No tricks. If his trust was presented wrapped in a bloodied bow, well, you would thank him dearly and wear the ribbon round your neck like a trophy.
Many men spoke to you, but luckily your participation in conversation wasn’t something they really cared about. As they spoke, your eyes were looking past them and into the future. 
However there was a sense of dread when you lied in bed that night. The excitement of getting closer to Alastor had melted into the fear there was no going back from this. 
Something in your chest stung, a thorn growing from somewhere unknown. Three encounters (that he knew of) and already it seemed your thoughts were more Alastor than yourself. No person had ever made such an impression before. You didn’t like it, but it made you happy. Which is why you didn’t like it. Tying your happiness to another person was a reckless thing to do. You’d seen your mother and half sister both use a man’s attention as a replacement for being happy with themselves and it made them brittle and hollow.
Thinking of what would happen the following night, oddly, you were reminded of losing your virginity. You were a “late bloomer” and were terrified you’d never be you again after. Like something would be taken from you. You fell asleep to that thought, of what you’d lose.
Then you woke, uncharacteristically early, feeling none the bit rested. No dreams. No nightmares. A few seconds of darkness and suddenly it was morning. With the extra time you had you wandered into a department store before going to the theater.
When a sales woman approached you, asking what you were looking for, you were too tired lie.
“A red dress.” You didn’t have the makeup at home to cover your marks, and gave up being worried about it. 
Unfortunately, it seemed it wasn’t so odd of a sight; a woman with a black eye.
“What’s the occasion? Apology dinner?” The woman fidgeted with the hangers while looking at you.
You grimaced, “No, a murder.”
She howled, “You are a hoot! Don’t we wish, huh? Let me pull you some options.”
You put the dress on the top of the paper bag, having hidden it under your make up table the previous night. Your fingers were trembling, applying your makeup needing deep breaths and concentration.
“Ruth, can you do my lips?” You turned and handed her the brush. 
“The eye looks better.” She took your chin in her hand and painted your mouth a pretty shade of red.
“Thank you.” You offered her a smile but she didn't let go, “What?”
“You ever seen a cornered raccoon? Like one got in the house and your mom boxed it into a corner with a broom?”
A nod, yes, actually, you had.
“Who’s got the broom?” She asked. You knitted your brow, not understanding. “Who’s got you in a corner? Is it Tommy?”
You took your chin back, deep breaths. “No brooms. No corners. Just rattled still from last night.” Not a lie, surprisingly. “You thought of a raccoon? Really? Is it because of the eye?”
When you took your bow for the evening and turned to escape the stage lights for the darkness of backstage, you found Tommy leaning just outside the dressing room.
“Get changed, doors unlocked upstairs. Room 504.” 
Grabbing the paper bag you ran through your mental checklist. Wear red, take off your make up, hide the canvas by the bed. An odd to-do list for murder.
The theater had two floors of modest apartments above it, the owners keeping two of the open for the theater’s use. One was for the owners should they ever visit New Orleans, and the other was multi use. Storage and a crash pad for performers or Tommy when he worked late.
The bag crinkled as you hugged it, looking over the small apartment. Boxes, decorations, a modest kitchen and a bed. The bathroom was quite large, a tub and shower head. Was this where the other performers went?  
Why hadn’t anyone said anything sooner? Why didn’t anyone leave yet?
Taking a second, you got to work. You opened the canvas and slid it under the bed, the smallest bit of edge sticking out for easy retrieval. Dizzy with the quickly settling reality of what you were doing, you sat on the floor for a moment. Trying to calm your breathing, you closed your eyes.
The fear of the unknown was suffocating you. There was a possibility Alastor failed and ended up hurt. Or, that he changed his mind and Tommy left you two to just hold hands on the bed for a sex-appropriate amount of time.
You patted your thighs and stood up. No time now for a panic attack. Alastor had a change of clothes in the bag, neatly folded and tied in twine. They were set onto the shelf above the closet.
And finally, yourself. Your dress was on and you stopped to wipe the make up off your face in the bathroom mirror. Still bruised, still nasty. The dress was nice though, carrying some of the weight for your battered mug. Red cotton, sailor neck and little gold buttons down the front. Flashy, brighter than the dark number you usually wore.
Would he like it? Most men looked for how a dress accentuated your curves (or hid them) but you had a feeling Alastor didn’t care so much about that.
You took your seat at the edge of the bed, thin mattress sagging from your weight.
The clock ticked, until finally the door opened and you saw something you hadn’t seen before and knew you’d never see again. Tommy and Alastor.
“Here she is. Autumn, this is Mr. Cerf. He's asked I stay in the apartment, apparently word of your attitude already spread among the upperclass.” Tommy wagged his finger at you in a playful way that was entirely out of place.
“Look at her. Pouting. Not very excited, is she?” Alastor smiled at you, softly. You felt for a second that maybe you entirely misunderstood. He looked calm, normal. Even peaceful.
“It’s always nice when they fight a little. But she won’t cause you any trouble.” Tommy patted Alastor’s back, who immediately shirked away.
“Do you like it when women try to fight you off, Tommy?”
A dry laugh, “Ya know how it is. They gotta act like they don’t like it so people still respect ‘em.”
A hum. Alastor’s smile falling entirely. A shadow settled over his face. “I see. That does make things easier.” He slipped on his short black gloves. “I always tell her she looks lovely in red. She rarely listens to me, but I’m happy to see she did tonight. It’s a special occasion.” 
Once, you thought. You didn’t listen once. 
Tommy nervously chuckled, looking from Alastor then to you, “What?” Alastor grabbed him by the back of the neck, pushing him to the ground and onto his knees. Hand fisted in his hair, knife pressing across his throat. 
Alastor dug his knee into the small of Tommy’s back, “Tommy, I think you owe the lady an apology.” You let your feet find the edge of the canvas and slid it out with a kick. It glided across the wood and stopped where his knees met the floor. 
“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry.” Tommy was staring at the waxed fabric in front of him. 
You felt your eyes sting with tears, a smile breaking out against your will. “For what?”
“I—,” his eyes searched the room for an answer, your words bringing a pulse of Deja Vu, “It’s about yesterday?” He seemed to relax a little, “Come on. I said sorry. ” Looking back to Alastor. “I didn’t know she had a guy.”
Alastor yanked his head back to look him squarely in his eyes, “Wrong answer.” He pushed him down onto his stomach, “Come on Tommy. I like when my victims fight a little, too.” Sensing the taller man towering over him with the knife, Tommy scrambled onto his back to look at Alastor. Tommy started shouting, “Hey!! Someone!” But there was no one to hear him. That was the beauty of the space he always brought his dates to; it was too loud to hear anyone scream. 
Funny how that works both ways.
Alastor shrugged, “Well that didn’t last long.” As Tommy backed up, trying to get traction on the slippery canvas and failing, Alastor straddled him. Tommy’s hands came up, one pushing against Alastor’s face, the other against the arm holding the knife. Alastor put both hands onto the knife’s handle, staring down into Tommy’s eyes as he inched closer to the man’s neck. “You look scared, Tommy. Are you scared?” 
The other man shouted, eyes trembling as he watched the knife come down.
Alastor pushed through, metal sinking into Tommy’s throat. No pause, he withdrew and sank it again and again. Tommy’s hands fell from Alastor’s face, flailing slightly at his neck before slumping down. He was frenzied, stabbing at his chest and upward with wide eyes. You recognized those constricted pupils. They made sense in this setting. Alastor was panting, taking a second to split the skin from ear to ear in the middle of his melee. 
You brought your knees to your chest, watching the crime unfold. Was this anger for you or truly for everyone? No one ever got so angry for you before, if you could be so conceited as to say this was for you. Your mouth opened and you spoke without thinking, no filter. “You look like an angry God. A jazz demon of wrath.” You smiled, the morbidity not lost on you.
Alastor stopped, frozen as he stared at you. For a second, he had forgotten you were there. He was always alone during these hobbies of his. Until recently. You looked like an angel in red and gold. Had he dyed your heavenly robes crimson? Or had you been made that way?
He dropped the knife, peeling his gloves off and stepping over Tommy’s decimated torso before kicking off his shoes.
You scooted back onto the bed and opened your arms, welcoming a strange after-kill cuddle. Your reward.
Alastor took off his bowtie, then his shirt. It took you a second, not realizing what was happening until he began to unbuckle his belt. “Now?!” 
He nodded, “Yeah.”
“What the fuc— okay,” your hands flew to unclasp your stockings and roll down your panties. You mumbled to yourself, “Jesus Christ.”
As he crawled over you, warm gloveless hands tracing along your legs, hips, waist, you looked at up him with your now dilated pupils, “It’s murder? You need murder?”
He laughed, embarrassing you a little, “No it isn’t that.” His face nuzzled into your neck, “You’d go to hell? For me?” 
You froze, you hadn’t really seen it like that.
“You’d damn your eternal soul,” his hips pressed into you, an unfamiliar hardness there that made you gulp, “just to spend time with me?”
How were you so heated over an erection? A dime a dozen, men practically threw them at women who offered them the slightest smile. Yet feeling him so hard against you, something you had been practically praying for, made you weak. A trembling virgin all over again. 
Don’t lie, he always told you to be honest so you decided to try it out even if it made you feel at risk of harm. Your hands slid up and into his hair, gripping gently, enough to elicit a groan from him, “Well I was worried heaven wouldn’t have jazz, so… yeah.” You had to always say something a little in jest, to hide from the vulnerability of honesty, “This seemed like a better option.” The truth was, if you had to state it plainly, you would dive head first into hell in exchange for his smile. To hear his laugh. To feel his breath over your mouth. You were quite sure hell was more your scene, anyway.
“I’ll be sure to fill your afterlife with jazz every day, dear.” 
How could he make hell sound so sweet?
“It’s a deal.” Fingers playing with his hair, basking in the warmth of skin on skin. 
He leaned up, eyes scanning your face as he always seemed to do in these intimate moments. The feeling spreading down his chest was one wholly foreign to him, one he was struggling to put into his own words. You hadn’t run away. You opened your arms for him even still, welcoming your own damnation in exchange for… affection? Attention? Him? The reason didn’t matter, not to Alastor, and not now to his growing need. You didn’t even push him for more than he wanted to give, not yet needled him for details, secrets, sex. Could you really just be there for Alastor? Take him for what he was and what he wasn’t?
His mouth was salivating at the thought you’d give him anything. Reality was, you already had. His finger caressed the purple welt on your cheek. You were given pain and he returned it ten fold to its owner. A demon of wrath. He felt his cock twitching, underwear tented around him. 
You smiled up at him, wiping a little streak of blood from his jawline, “You look quite pretty in red yourself.”
His head came to rest on your collarbone with a shaky sigh.
Had you said something wrong? 
“Please, you’re already pushing me to my limit.”
Making a show of it, you zipped your mouth and pretended to toss the key. You wanted to reach down and pull off his remaining bit of clothing, to rub yourself against his manhood. But, you weren’t sure if that was something he would appreciate. You didn’t want to ruin his experience, to make him regret offering you something he so clearly didn’t need to give.
He removed his underwear, watching you unbutton your dress and pulling your arms free. Your bra, garter, and stockings were still on. Somehow he found it more scandalous than if you were completely naked.
Your breath was shaking, uneven as the excitement took control of you. There was a not totally unfounded fear you'd black out from hyperventilating.
Alastor lined himself up with your heat and pressed in, making a hard to decipher face as his brow knit up and he bit his lip. You were already so wet, not a hand or mouth needed from him. He wondered if you shared more than an acceptance of justified homicide; your body so relaxed and welcoming to him. 
With a few shallow thrusts, he was fully sunk into you. You may have let out a cry. An emptiness you hadn’t clocked was suddenly gone. Was this what Zeus meant when he said the two souled humans were too powerful and tore them apart to weaken them? 
Was this sex, or love? The word made you nervous. But—- if he offered it to you in both palms, you’d suffocate yourself in his hands.
He began to move in earnest, thrusting in and out slowly. You had expected the frantic moves of a horny virgin. Instead he was moving with control, hips rolling into you like waves gentle and steady where the lake met land, not slamming like many men before him. 
Had it been any other dick, you’d whine and begin moving yourself against it for that needed speed. This was Alastor. Dripping pleasure into your open mouth like a drought-breaking summer shower.
You didn’t recognize your own sounds, already panting and moaning as a warmth spread from the place where his cock was sliding around inside you.
Alastor tried to keep calm. Even when his body was sensitive, he wasn’t used to the mental work needed to fight off his orgasm. Usually he had the opposite issue, struggling to stay focused enough to finish. Mind wandering to more productive chores. 
But you were so wet, so accepting in body and mind. He watched your eyes close, one hand gently clawing at the blankets, the other reaching down to touch his lower stomach every time he thrust back in. For the first time in a very long time you really truly wanted to remember who was at the other end of the dick you were enjoying.
Languid moves. Swollen cockhead hitting the bottom of your walls, the top, the end, pushing still a little further.
“I’m sorry,” Alastor leaned down over you, kissing at your jawline, “For making you wait so long for so little.”
His rhythm picked up then, burying himself deeper into your sopping cunt and dragging out enough to pull back that quiver of his release.
You shook your head, lips tingling. “Nothing little here.”
He attempted a laugh, losing his breath. He wanted to last longer, to make the experience worth your while but he could feel you dripping down his balls and it weakened him with alarming efficiency. Finally the frenzied speed you witnessed earlier was turned to you, you brought your legs up, holding at his sides. “Darling I need to-,” he moaned into your ear.
“Please stay.” You clung to his neck, nails grazing at his shoulders.
Alastor’s voice was soft and sweet, a small moan and a gentle grunt. His legs spread more, trying to get every centimeter of himself into you. Hips now grinding in a small circle, but not losing any of the comfort of your warmth. You felt him still pumping that welcomed heat into you, and you tightened around him, drawing out your own moan. He hissed, “Sensitive.” Your legs were shaking like leaves in a storm, no orgasm but the pleasure nonetheless intoxicating.
The front of your brain felt like static, perhaps from the lack of oxygen as you had uncharacteristically lost your breath under Alastor. 
Like losing your virginity, after the fear faded and you were able to find a moment for introspection, you found yourself larger than before. The edges of your canvas expanded out, new parts of yourself unfurling for you to explore. Nothing had been lost, only gained.
Alastor kissed at the dark circle under your eye, at the bruise of your cheek, he lifted your arm and kissed gently at the purple and blue spots there too. He had lied, and he wasn’t sure why, but maybe he’d find the will to admit it to you someday.
He had left yesterday to keep from strangling Tommy in the center of the theater, finding himself in a rage. He rarely felt anger. His killings always about retribution, about karma, about righting the scales. He needed to leave to keep from losing his composure.
He lied to you in the alley, unable to look you in the eye when he did it for fear you’d see it. You always seemed to see him with a clarity others didn’t despite such a short time together. He struggled to hide from you and it was as exciting as it was frightening. A testament to your similarities.
He hadn’t done it for everyone. No. His personal moral code fell to pieces when he saw your bloodied eye and bruised skin. He would have killed Tommy even if he had been a good man, even if you’d been the instigator. None of his murderous rules mattered. And it scared him. 
(Next Part Next Week, orz)
*slang for boyfriend, often a rich one
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay /
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions
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acesofspadess · 8 days ago
Text
Teamwork
Ace Giovanelli
The Mexico GP brings up more questions than she could answer
warnings: cursing, talks of crashing, max and lando (they need a TW themselves)
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Post qualifying conference 
“Welcome to the post qualifying conference…” 
Soon after questions were asked from the floor…
"Question for Lando,” someone said, “How do papaya rules take place tomorrow being in the same row with Ace?”
Lando shrugged, lifting the mic, “They don’t.” He said dropping the mic, saying he was done with that question and every further one that someone may have wanted to ask.
~~~~
The morning of race day Lando and Ace were walking hand-in-hand water bottles in the other as the walked with Rachel who was interviewing them. Ace was finishing her answer when Carlos walked by and ‘dick-tapped’ Lando who buckled into his girlfriend.
Ace and Rachel both laughed as Ace yelled after him, “That’s my job, Carlos!” Which got a laugh from him and Lando who had once again paused leaning into his girlfriend. “He got you good there didn’t he?” Rachel asked and Lando chuckled. “Karma.” He said, making Ace laugh, “That’s what you get for starting it.”
~~~~
Ace and Lando stood next to each other by Ace’s car having their pre-race talk as always, they were shorter on time so their helmets were half way on.
“How do you always look so good in fireproofs” he murmured, leaning close so only she could hear.
Ace’s laugh came as she shook her head, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “Lando, if you don’t stop flirting on the grid, I swear I’m telling Zak,” she teased, though the grin on her face was undeniable.
“Oh, come on. I’m just giving you a little pep talk before the big show,” he replied, his eyes crinkling mischievously.
“Yeah? Well, here’s your pep talk—don’t go doing anything stupid against Max,” she said, her tone serious but soft, knowing the heat of the fight ahead. “Just… be safe, okay?”
He glanced away toward the Red Bull on the front row, then back to her, nodding. “I will. But you know I’ll do what I have to,” he replied, a flicker of determination in his gaze.
Ace sighed, torn between frustration and understanding. She knew it was the sport, the competition, but every time she was reminded, her heart twisted. Still, she gave him a small, supportive smile. “Then go on, show them what you’ve got. I’ve got your back.”
He squeezed her hand quickly before stepping back, flashing her one last smile before they turned to their cars, ready to chase the thrill of the race.
They stayed in their order through turn 1 until Carlos went off track and had to give his position back to Max. 
“Safety Car is out Ace, VCARB and a Williams in the back.”
“Is everyone okay?”
“Everyone is out of the cars.”
They were under the safety car until Lap 7 and then they continued to race. Ace was close to Lando but wasn’t able to pass him. Carlos took the lead back from Max a few laps later but Ace was still chasing the three ahead. Lando was getting closer to Max and when he went for the overtake Max forced him off the track causing Lando to drive through the grass.
“Lando was ahead at every moment, Max forced him off. He’s going to end up in a wall!”
“Yep, we’ve seen it.”
“Tell them to look at my onboard, it’s very visible.”
“Head down Ace.”
Lando gave Carlos his position back but the fight between Max and Lando wasn’t over as Max went back for the overtake  taking them both off track.
Verstappen throwing it to the inside- BOTH are off! Extraordinary! Elbows are out, brawling between the two of them- and Ace Giovanelli takes advantage to get up to second position, how about that!
“What the fuck is going on infront of me?!”
“Yeah Ace, working on it, P2. Head down.”
For the viewers at home who aren’t well versed, that was Ace Giovanelli, Lando Norris’ teammate and girlfriend. 
Ace is always vouching for him, the two of them are duo you don’t want to mess with.
Never get on Ace’s bad side, especially when it comes to Lando.
But even when it’s not Lando, Ace is always on her radio saying what it is and what it should be.
You gotta love her, she never fails to make the race interesting.
Ace was gaining very well on Carlos, and without getting into an accident, but managed to get very close.
“Closing the gap, please be careful.”
Ace backed off slightly but enough to keep Carlos in her sights.
“Verstappen now has a 20 second penalty.”
“Then why the fuck is he still behind me?!”
As we said earlier, always a good race when Ace is on the radio.
She brings up a good question, Max knows he was in the wrong, and held on and still holds onto that third place position…
A few more laps just holding position came and went until Rupert was back in her ear. 
“Lando behind, Verstappen in pit.”
“I’m not even going to say anything. Gap?”
“6.3”
Ace was losing time to Carlos ahead of her. His pace was just much faster than hers. Lando boxed behind her on lap 30 and she understood why, but she was still in the race. She was boxing a few laps later…
“Ace, pitlane.”
…but so did George, which meant she kept her position in P2. but she was now 31 seconds behind Carlos.
Carlos boxed, a lap later.
“Gap?”
“8.5”
She looked in her mirrors a few times confused.
“Gap behind, you muppet.”
“4.8.”
Papaya like Papaya.
Everyone is a Lando and Ace fan, even if you don’t like McLaren, chances are you love Ace and Lando.
The laps got tricky as she was too far from Carlos to race, but too far from Lando to defend. Tire’s were her number one priority.
“Lando closing, 4.3. If you can push, push.”
She did start to push, and did so very well for around 10 laps. She saw Lando on the big screen during the straight and a feeling she hated hit her hard. This is racing, you need to be selfish. She tried telling herself. Lap 60 she looked at her dash.
“Lando behind, in and out of DRS, you are free to race.”
The papaya’s once again are going racing!
Ace continued racing, continuously checking her mirrors to see the gap behind. 
“10 laps left, bring it home.”
Ace wondered if she would look back on today's race, how she would feel. What would it look like? How would it change her future?
At this pace, if Lando is fighting for that second place position, it will be down to the final lap, Ace’s pace is just faster than his -AND ACE IS SLOWING DOWN! What is she doing?!
“Ace, you are free to race.”
“I’m well aware.”
She waited for the main straight knowing Lando was in her DRS and shifted to the inside watching him pass.
Ace Giovanelli has LET her teammate pass her down the main straight! There were no team orders, no communication on any end! How have we gotten here?!
“Yeah don’t say anything.” She said before anyone could get on the radio. She was so far from George, she knew the rest of the race would just be for maximum points. 
We need to talk about what just happened in McLaren. Ace moved out of the way on her own.
Ace has stayed in that second position since Max and Lando went fighting in those early laps, there is no reason for her to pull away now versus later in the race. He has no chance at taking on Carlos. 
Which makes us ask even more questions. She’s still within enough time to take that position back from Lando, and she’s just taken the fastest lap. I can’t wait to hear the post race interviews.
More laps passed and Ace saw the number get closer to the end.
“Leclerc pitted for fastest lap, how do you feel about going for fastest lap on the last lap? Tire’s are still good.”
“Yeah, leave it to me.”
Ace built a healthy gap to Lando, trusting her car and tires before pressing on the throttle with as much force as she could muster.
…And Ace Giovanelli is setting purple sectors, rapid sectors, to give McLaren a double podium finish and a point for fastest lap for the constructors that is now between McLaren and Ferrari! That’s a podium finish for Giovanelli, a fastest lap, and the the point that comes with it! What. A. Race.
Ace waved at all the fans as she did her podium lap. As she pulled into the makeshift podium parc-ferme she heard Rupert again.
“P3 Ace, good teamwork out there. You did get fastest lap. Thank you for an amazing race.”
“Yeah thanks everyone for a good race, I know our priorities. All points are good points.”
Ace stopped the car, unbuckled, got out, waved at the uproar of people around her before tackling Carlos. “Carlitos!” She yelled, pulling her visor up as he spun her around. “You deserved this!” She shouted over the roar of cars and fans. Carlos hugged her again and they stumbled when Lando joined them. “Well deserved, muppet!” His helmet and balaclava were already off.
Carlos shook both of their heads before walking off towards his team. Ace and Lando walked behind him to the podium stands as she took her helmet off then her balaclava off lethargically. “I can breathe again.” She laughed, putting her helmet down and stuffing her gloves and balaclava in it.
“Why did you do it?” Lando asked as she chugged her water. “No one else may believe you’re still in the fight. But I do.” She told him before getting called over for the interview.
“Ace Giovanelli, podium. I know it was a difficult race , you had to manage temperatures at the beginning, and then towards the end there. How difficult was the race for you?”
“Ehh, it was a difficult one. The first stint was all about trying to manage the temperatures which was kind of difficult, but uh, yeah at the end we did the best race we could do. Carlos was just ahead the entire race. He had an amazing race, but yeah, it was a good weekend for the team, overall it was positive.
“You managed to get the fastest lap at the end, was that the intention with letting Lando pass you?”
Ace fixed the neck strap as she listened before answering. “Uh, no. It wasn’t.” She chuckled, “I let Lando through because he’s fighting for something I’m not, that’s really all there is to it. There isn’t a need for team orders when it comes to the obvious stuff.”
“You took the fastest lap away from Ferrari. How does knowing Ferrari is closing in on you in the constructors feel?”
“It’s exciting.” She said honestly, “No one joins racing for the easy way through. Lando and I have good pace, we have a good team, we have a good car and we’re ready for the fight.”
“Thank you Ace, and congratulations on the podium.”
“Gracias Mexico!” She said waving while walking off.
Ace stayed for a bit of Lando’s interview….
“...and what are your thoughts on Ace letting you by?”
“Uh yeah, Ace is an important part of our team. She’s brought a lot to the team. You have to be selfish in this sport and knowing she gave up her points and position for me anyway, it’s not something a lot of teammates would do, when we’re on track we aren’t dating, we’re racers and that says a lot on who Ace is as a person and as teammate.”
“She said that you were fighting something she’s not, is that something you’ve spoken about beforehand considering Ace is closer to you than you are to Max?”
“No, we've never discussed Ace giving up her position in this race or any race for that matter. We were told to race and Ace did what she did.” 
She was pulled away by her personal team to take pictures- what she assumed Lando was doing when she was being interviewed- before going up to the cooldown room. Her highlight of her and Carlos fighting for a few laps played on the screen. “I thought I had it on turn 4, I was ready but Carlos was just..” She whistled, “But your pace at the end was crazy!” She perked back up. “The wind changed, that’s why they asked you to go for fastest lap.”
“That was the safety car then?” She pointed at the replay and they watched the VCARB and Williams until Lando and Max’s battle played. “Ahh!” He groaned watching him run off the track. “I think I cursed Rupert out when that happened.” Lando chuckled at the second fight and Ace shook her head.
“Carlitos!” Maia laughed as he came in. “What was your tire deg?” He asked immediately. “Wasn’t bad at all actually.”
“You switched to the hards before me no?”
“Maybe a lap before. I think they lasted because I didn’t have to fight off George. That is probably why I managed to steal that point from you, Scarlets.” She pulled his hat over his face.
“Ai!” He said trying to fight her for her hat but she got up to get her water. They spoke about nonsense for a little longer before they lined up for the podium.
Ace walked out waving as she stood on the farthest and shortest step. Maia watched with a laugh as Carlos was raised slowly up by the hydraulics.
After the national anthems and the trophies Ace and Lando looked at each other nodding and shook their bottles hitting Carlos from both sides as Ricky went for Ace and Lando and Carlos tried his best to get them back.
He ran to spray his teams as Ace and Lando shook champagne from their faces. They clinked their bottles laughing, before Carlos sprayed them from behind and they both shook their bottles spraying him again and Ace knew that that picture was getting clipped. 
They took their photo on the podium before walking off messing with Lando and Carlos.
“Hey Ace, a massive race for you today, P4 to P2 then finishing in P3. How was the race for you?”
“Yeah, it was a really good race. We got the maximum amount of points we could have today, Carlos was just at another pace than we could have ever managed. I think for the team it was a great race, we had a much better car than we thought we would have and yeah I can’t complain about much.”
“You gave your P2 up for Lando can you tell us a bit more behind that?”
“Yeah, it wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but I knew points wise for the team it would have been the same. Lando didn’t have the pace to catch up to me, for no matter of his own I’ll disclaim, but as I said earlier, Lando is fighting for something I’m not and it felt too selfish to keep that from him, dating or not.”
“And how do you think McLaren is going to do in Brazil next weekend?”
“Every weekend is up for debate. We just have to keep our heads down and put everything we can into every race we have left.”
“Thank you Ace.”
“Cheers.”
~~~~
“A very warm welcome to the top three finishers of the FIA Formula 1 Mexico City Grand Prix. In third place Ace Giovanelli…” Ace wasn’t even paying attention to the introduction as she finished her conversation with Carlos.
The conference was mainly about Carlos, which Ace thought was rightfully deserved. “...it was an important P2 for you today, just how pleased are you with today’s result?”
“Very, very pleased. Um I’m happy, with P2, normally I wouldn’t be, but given the circumstance of how I got here. I can’t complain.” He chuckled looking at Ace who nodded her head shortly teasingly.
“Yeah Lando, you say the second stint was easier but your pace was still off Ace’s, what was going through your head when you saw Ace slowing down?”
“I thought her car failed to be honest.” He laughed and Ace rolled her eyes with a chuckle. “I was like, ‘oh no, what happened, am I next?’ but then I saw her come up behind me and knew we would have to talk after the race.”
“Ace can we come to you now? P3 completes a great day for McLaren. Can we get your take on the race first of all.”
Ace lifted the mic up, “Yeah, I mean all in all it was a positive weekend for McLaren. Maybe not for us personally, Carlos has been strong from FP1 and until the last moment of the race. For myself. During the race I felt I was relatively quick, having a few moments with Carlos, which I hear he did not like-” she nudged him having heard his radio- “but at the end it was it was and I’m very happy for McLaren, very happy for Carlos, he deserves it more than anyone this weekend.
“You’ve probably answered this many times already, but can you tell us what your thinking was behind giving up P2?”
“I don’t think I ‘gave it up’. That makes it sound as if I went for a cruiser, I didn’t.” She chuckled with a shrug. “Thoughts wise, a lot. I wanted to be selfish, get P2 under my name again, but it felt almost too selfish when I’m not fighting for a title, I’m only fighting Charles, and finishing ahead of him is my only goal. As a teammate it felt like the right thing to do.”
“Do you think Lando would have overtaken you if you didn’t let him pass?”
“Uhh,” She paused, thinking about the pace and gap. “Based on the information I was receiving, I don’t think he would have, which is why I did what I did.”
“OKay, let’s open this to the floor.”
Ace was used to getting the least amount of questions when it came to him and Max anywhere close to each other.
“Question for the two McLaren drivers, congratulations on today, you’re both in very good form and McLaren has continued the form through the second half of the season really. How hard are you trying to keep Ferrari away from taking the constructors from you? And are you somehow surprised that you’re now fighting Ferrari and not Red Bull considering how the season has been for all three teams?”
Lando nodded to Ace to go first, “I mean yeah, we’re fighting hard. That’s what we're here to do. I have confidence in Lando and I will continue performing like we did in Singapore, Baku, and Zandvoort. As far as who we are fighting, I don’t think it matters all that much. A fight is a fight.” She shrugged with her hands and Lando chuckled. 
“What she said.” He pointed with his famous smile.
“Question for Ace, when you went through after Max and Lando went off, did you say anything?”
Ace leaned forward, “Sorry can you say that again?”
“When Lando and Max went off track and you passed them, did you say something to yourself? Where you worried that you may have been apart of a collision.
Ace leaned back as she registered the question. “Oh um, yeah of course. Being behind those two is always stressful, you’re always gaging whether you need to speed up and get out of the way, but when that happened I think I said, ‘what the fuck is going on there.’ Oh sorry-” She laughed but then realised what she said and gasped.
“Oh no.” She threw her head back and hit a hand to her hat. “I don’t want to join Max in community service. I was the one who told him how to loop hole it.” She laughed and Carlos and Lando laughed with her.
“You better enjoy it.” Carlos teased making hr laugh more. “Uh yeah, then-
“Beep.” Lando sang teasingly making her chuckle. “Yeah after that I went after Carlos but he was far ahead of me at that point.” She put down the mic with wide eyes looking at Lando.
“Question for Ace. That’s twice you’ve taken advantage of Max and Lando, do you think that the fight is going to the very end, and will be a threeway? Or do you expect to be the clear winner”
Ace raised her brows at Lando as he giggled. “I mean, if they take each other out then you have your answer.” She laughed as Lando rolled his eyes jokingly. “It’s more of a fight between Lando and myself than Max and I. In reality I don’t think about the driver’s championship, I like to think realistically. They would have to have very poor weekends, and I would have to win every race from now on, it’s just not realistic. I just have to focus race by race for the team.”
With one last question to Carlos the conference was over and Lando took her hand as always but she got pulled to the side for her comment and managed to get a way with a warning. 
Carlos had invited them both to dinner and a club that night, Ace knew Rebeca and her would magnetise to each other as Lando and Carlos did. Dinner was nice but Ace loved the club, summer was too long ago for her.
In the club’s neon lights, Ace and Lando moved together, laughter filling the space between them. He spun her playfully, nearly losing his balance when she pulled him back to dance close. Next to them, Carlos and Rebeca were trying to keep up, Carlos’s dance moves were still put together with how much he had to drink. Rebeca was laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath, holding onto Carlos to keep him from tripping over his own feet. The boys switched partners and Ace laughed in Carlos’ arms.
“Maybe we should have cut you off at dinner,’” Ace teased, earning an exaggerated groan from him.
“Don’t listen to her,” Rebeca laughed, as they switched again, “you’re doing amazing… at whatever this is.”
Lando grinned, pulling Ace closer as the song switched to a slower beat, his hands finding her waist as they moved together. He leaned in, voice low, “You know, I think we could make our own dance floor later… somewhere a bit more private.”
Ace rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t fight her smile. “Lando! There’s a time and a place!”
“Oh, come on,” he whispered, grinning, “I’m just making sure my best moves are saved for the best dance partner.”
She laughed, giving his shoulder a light swat. “Behave, or Carlos might try to copy you!”
Carlos, catching the end of her sentence, lifted an eyebrow. “What are we copying now? Lando’s... moves?”
“Trust me, Carlos,” Ace said with a smirk, shooting Lando a knowing look, “you’re better off not knowing.”
acegiovanelli posted
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liked by carlossainz and other
acegiovanelli Muchas gracias Mexico! Another podium to celebrate before Brazil! Te amo Carlitos! Well deserved (even if you didn't like me racing you)
@/carlossainz @/landonorris @/iamrebeccad
view comments
carlossainz you got to close!
acegiovanelli wimp
iamrebecccad 🥰🥰
norelli45 here for this dump! carlandace content we deserve
landonorris you stole my picture
acegiovanelli it was on my phone... my phone, my pic
landonorris YOU AREN'T EVEN IN IT
acegiovanelli don't expose the fact you didn't want your own girlfriend in the pic... 😬
landonorris don't start before I vouch for your community service
acegiovanelli sssshhhh you're supposed to be on my side!
mcpapaya54 oh he got you there
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peptalkradio · 5 months ago
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selineram3421 · 9 months ago
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*stumbles in and door slams into the wall* Ding-dong💘
Soft Love
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Alastor X Chubby Reader
Warnings ⚠
⚠ food mention-desserts and strawberries, hurt/comfort, italics=thoughts, insecurities, mentions of murder, mention of cannibalism, slight implied/suggestive ⚠
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Life in Hell was hectic.
Love in Hell? Nearly impossible to find.
Especially if its real.
Alastor knew you as the kind, soft demon that everyone got along with in the hotel staff.
Kind even to him.
Your work at the hotel was mostly in the arts. The Princess has you in the therapy area to help sinners express their emotions with different mediums.
Such an interesting demon you were with many hobbies. Painting, singing, dancing, baking, designing, cooking, knitting, photography, drawing. The list could go on possibly for a while, you haven't shared all of them.
He was curious, wondering exactly what damned you to Hell.
"Alastor!"
Speak of the devil, you called.
"Yes dear?", he looked up from his book.
He sat on the lobby couch that was just across the bar, patiently waiting for you to speak.
"Could you try something for me? I made some lava cake for desert but I want to make sure yours is the right amount of bitter."
Yes, you were also very considerate and attentive.
"Of course dear!", he stood from the couch and whisked his book away into the shadows. "You know I always look forward to your baking."
He followed behind you, smiling a little wider at the pep in your step.
The Radio Demon knew that he had feelings for you. It took him a while to come to terms with it but let it happen anyway.
You were also the only person that he touched (respectfully) often. Holding your hand, linking your arms together, squishing your cheeks, holding you close for a dance. All excuses just to feel your warmth and softness.
Sure, he's let his friend Rosie touch him but she knew that he didn't like physical contact too often unless it was needed for dancing.
"I made your cake less sweet too!", you turned to look back at him with a smile.
"I appreciate it."
Once both of you entered the kitchen, you showed him the cakes and got out two different chocolate mixes.
"The lighter one is the sweetest, and the darker one is quite bitter.", you placed the bowls on the counter. "I actually want to try it with strawberries too.."
"Sounds appetizing!", he stepped closer and placed his hand on your lower back, leaning forward. "I wouldn't mind having a bite."
You blushed and avoided his gaze.
How adorable.
"I'll get a spoon for you to try the chocolate.", you said before walking out of his hold and over to the drawers near the door.
One thing he noticed was that when it came to his touch, you'd shy away. When he gave you compliments regarding your appearance, you would brush him off or put yourself down.
It upset him greatly.
Somewhat impatient, he swiped up some of the dark chocolate with his finger and tasted it.
"Alastor!"
Like a child, he quickly held his hands behind his back as if to hide something.
"Yes?"
You sighed and got a napkin before walking up to the red man.
"No use in hiding what you did.", you held out your hand.
"But I'm not hiding anything.", he shows you his hands by placing them on yours. "See?"
You hum and pull him down by his hands. "You've got chocolate on the side of your lip deer.", you point out and laugh.
He let's you clean him up with the napkin.
When you pull back, he stops you by taking a hold of your hand with the napkin. Calling your name, the Radio Demon looks you in the eye.
"I have a question for you"
"What is it?", you ask.
"Why is it that whenever I give you a compliment, you disregard it?"
In a second you stiffened and stared at him wide eyed.
"W-what? I don't do that..", you tried to pull away.
Alastor places a kiss on your fingers, still not letting go of your hand.
"Don't lie to me my dear, I always remember everything about you."
You look away with a sigh.
The frown on your face makes his unbeating heart ache.
"I don't like to talk about it.", you say and pull away.
Instead of leaving, you move the bowls and hop onto the counter to sit. Then you take a moment before speaking.
"I wasn't always treated right because of how big I looked.", you said with a sad smile. "I wasn't beauty standard perfect, or had a body that someone could ogle."
The red demon listened.
"When I did get into a relationship, it wasn't good. I was belittled, abused, and cheated on. But I still loved with my whole being..", you moved your hands onto your lap. "I was stabbed to death by them."
Alastor had to hold back his anger.
He wanted to find the person who dared treat you like nothing. To torture and rip them apart. To eat them alive.
"Silly, isn't it?", you smiled sadly, staring down at your hands. "Its what got me killed in the first place but yet I'm still chasing after it."
The Radio Demon slowly took your hands and gently rubbed them.
"You just put your heart in the wrong hands.", he said and lifted your hands to kiss your knuckles. "If I was the one who you loved, you wouldn't have to worry about any affairs."
He kissed the inside of your wrist.
"I'd compliment you everyday."
You were blushing madly at this point, too shocked and flustered to stop him.
He kissed your shoulder.
"I would never hurt you.", he says and kisses your cheek before whispering. "Unless you asked me to."
"Alastor-", you got one of your hands out of his hold to cover your mouth and some of your red face.
He leans back a bit to get a good look at you.
"I don't know how they couldn't see you for who you are. You're absolutely divine and worth so much more than anything anyone else could offer me."
You were tearing up at this point, still covering your mouth.
Carefully, the deer demon moved your hand away and caressed the side of your face. Wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.
"I love you."
You start tearing up more and he sees them start running down, some wetting his hand.
"I love all of you.", he smiles genuinely. "And if anyone dared try to insult or belittle you again, I'll make sure to torture them a million times over until you ask me to stop."
You've begun to quietly sob, wiping your tears as best as you could with your free hand.
"May I kiss you?"
You laugh at that.
"I'm a mess!", you say with a breathy laugh before sniffling.
"No, you're adorable.", he kisses the top of your head.
He let's you take a minute to calm down and helps you wipe your tears and snot away.
"Can you ask again?", you give him a shy smile.
"May I kiss you?", his smile widens.
"Yes please."
Both of you share a soft but long kiss.
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I found the merch!
~Seline, the person.
Taglist@
None for right now until I can fix how to add more tags.
ML for Alastor🎙
Extra:
You confess to Alastor that you've had a crush on him for quite a while.
"How long?", he asks, deer ears perked up.
"Uh..haha.", you look away with a blush. "After a week of joining the hotel.."
Doing the math, he realized that you've fancied him four months before he started growing feelings for you.
"Is that why you would ask what my favorite meals are? And how much sweetness I could tolerate?"
You nod.
"I can't believe how oblivious I've been. You've been gifting and making things for me.", his deer ears droop down and his brows furrow. "I must make up for all the time you spent on me."
"It's alright love.", you smiled.
"No, you can't change my mind.", he says and steals a kiss. "I'm going to spoil you."
🫀
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cyjammy · 10 months ago
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Vox and Alastor’s Dynamic is so FUN
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Hazbin Hotel Season 1 Episode 2 Spoilers ahead!
I have to talk about Vox and Alastor’s “rivalry”. I love how Alastor just couldn’t care less, he’s witty, he’s emotionless and that makes him all the more powerful.
Well, not emotionless since he does express outward disgust towards anything digital, but the fact he can keep himself composed because he knows he is the shit and that’s what makes him my absolute favorite.
That showed through in the pilot and the show didn’t fail to deliver. I love how he’s handled. Viv’s characterization is wonderful.
Most fics I have read with Alastor have shown him as vunerable despite the story never alluding to that and it’s such a breath of fresh air to have canon content of Alastor being his authentic self.
My god do I love a character that’s strong and not swayed by emotion, but they can be handled well too. I.E. VOX oh my god. Every fanon had him pegged down as the victim to Val’s wrath, but he’s the mastermind behind the scenes. A complete subversion of everyone’s expectations. And that’s for another post I’m about to go crazy on, but I digress.
Vox is a man up in his ivory electronic tower with villainous intentions, but he falls short because of emotion!
Handling Velvet’s demands to get Val together? A quick pep talk with himself and he’s got it.
Addressing unforeseen circumstances with concerned sinners? Easy.
But Alastor?
He sees RED. He let Valentino have it when he even thought about going on a rampage over a sinner under his thumb.
When it comes to Alastor, Vox goes on a hate campaign and makes a fool of himself.
Meanwhile, Alastor was minding his business, and Vox couldn’t deal with that.
So much so he causes a blackout in the Wrath ring!
Why? Because of his rejection sensitivity.
He is this all powerful overlord with companions in his rule and when he asks someone of similar station to become his equal he gets rejected.
It’s unheard of for him. He cannot fathom it.
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Because that makes Alastor a factor he cannot control.
Val says that Alastor “almost beat him”. Val may not have witnessed that fight and Vox spun it around to claim he came out on top.
But if he did, he definitely wouldn’t let Alastor get away.
Valentino and Vox have known each other for a long time, as shown in a photo in the background in the episode.
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So either this spat began before they had met and Vox lied or Valentino witnessed it. I'm excited to see which way that goes.
In terms of influence, Alastor seems to win that battle. Vox is in charge of electrical currents and anything in the digital space.
Alastor is so far removed from that Vox has no influence over him. He refuses to be involved with new technology.
But with Vox having an army of sinners under his wing through subliminal messaging, he had security and power.
With Alastor’s return he brings CHARISMA and he’s doing it SO FUCKING WELL.
This is not a battle, it’s a slaughter, and Alastor is WINNING. With television there are so many ways to captivate a viewer but with radio all the host has is their voice and personality. It all has to be shown in a medium that doesn’t have many options for uniqueness.
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Alastor defends himself with grace. He throws out compliments to his fellow overlords while still having it be a slight to the man who began the fight.
THE Vs ARE PREENING AT HIS PRAISE. THIS MAN IS GOATED.
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It's night and day, but that's probably because Valentino and Velvet are tired of Vox's shit. I love this parallel so much!
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Vox needed to be the person he was with Valentino at all times if this is a battle he wants to win, but he’s so bitter he will never see that.
He’s stubborn and that’s his main flaw.
And I fucking love it.
Alastor knows what he’s thinking and how to avoid it.
Always a step ahead. And their duet showcases that perfectly.
Alastor uses his opponent’s power against them, seeing the slanderous TV campaign and immediately going on air.
He does that in the pilot as well and seeing that this has become a habit for him is so fun to see.
Alastor is not to be messed with and I feel like people decided to gloss over that. But it’s so in your face you cannot deny it.
Alastor is TERRIFYING with a chilling deposition that will give you nightmares if you dare cross him.
Give him the respect he fucking deserves.
And the music and the visuals of the song — A whole fucking masterpiece.
I’m in love with their dynamic so far and I can’t wait to see where it goes.
So far Vox is the obsessed fanatic that couldn’t handle rejection.
There has to be more than that.
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fizzyellouw · 3 months ago
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Main poster ↓
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Old poster ↓
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History
The story takes place in 1989 at Westerburg High School. Pomni was a girl who was bullied by her classmates, many of whom were her childhood friends. A few days later, she joined the most popular clique at Wasterburg, which consisted of three rich students: the leader, Jax; the silly prince, Kinger; and the cheerleader ; Ragatha. After 3 weeks of being a Heath, Pomni gets fed up with them, especially Jax.
She meets a candy gator, Gummigoo, Pomni learns about his fight with 2 other popular kids.
When Pomni goes to Ram's party with the Heaths, she has a great time, but Gangle arrives at the party and this worries Pomni, she tells Gangle to leave before someone hurts her and announces in the middle of the party that she's leaving the group and going back to her normal life, Jax fights with her and Pomni ends up vomiting, he swears to destroy Pomni's life.
Drunk, Pomni shows up at her best friend Gangle's house. The next day she says goodbye to Gangle and meets up with Gummigoo to discuss the plan against Jax. They break into Jax's house and Gummigoo pours him a liquid that he claims is a hangover cure, but is actually milk and detergent, leaving Jax hospitalized for months.
After the whole school heard that Jax was in hospital, many prayed that Jax would get well and others that Jax would die. Kinger soon took over Jax's role as leader of the group and started wearing a purple cape.
Ram and Kurt tell everyone that Pomni had sex with them. Gummigoo tells Pomni to lure them into the forest to trick them into having sex so he can shoot them with non-fatal German bullets. Gummigoo shoots Ram and Pomni misses Kurt, who runs away but Gummigoo chases after him. Pomni noticed that the bullets were real; Gummigoo chases Kurt back to Pomni, who panics and shoots Ram. Gummigoo puts homosexual materials next to the boys, and a suicide note saying that they were both gay and didn't want to live in such a cruel world anymore, thus ending homophobia in the school.
Gangle, Pomni's best friend, pins a suicide note to her chest and throws herself from a high place. She survives because her body is made of tape and is light, she hits her face on the floor and ends up cracking her face and is mocked for trying to "act popular".
One night, Ragatha calls into a popular radio show, Pomni Kinger was listening, Ragatha says her name is actually Agatha, she talks about her depression and how her life is forced, the next day, Kinger tells the whole school about Agatha, she tries to commit suicide by overdosing on pills in the girls' bathroom, but is saved in time by Pomni.
Gummigoo tells Kinger to get signatures from all the students for a band note, which was actually a suicide note. Most of the students signed it.
Pomni tells Gummigoo that he doesn't want to hurt and kill anyone anymore. Gummigoo goes to Pomni's house with a revolver to kill her, but Pomni uses a rope to make it look like she committed suicide. Gummigoo thinks there's no one left to stop him so he goes to the school and plants a bomb to blow everything up.
Pomni fights Gummigoo in the boiler room under the gymnasium while a pep rally is going on at the school, where he is setting up timed explosives. Pomni shoots Gummigoo as a result of him refusing to stop the bomb. While Gummigoo has fainted, Pomni deactivates the bomb and leaves with it going to an open space in the school, she puts the bomb in her chest to kill herself but Gummigoo arrives in time and takes the bomb out of her hands, he tells Pomni to stay away and says that, from the first time he saw her, he fell in love with Pomni, but he knew she didn't feel the same way but he still didn't care. The bomb finally explodes and confetti scatters and Pomni gets dirty with dust and confetti, she picks up Gummigoo's hat and puts it on her head with a smile of relief.
Pomni confronts Kinger, confesses and asks Gangle out on a date (one night in the movie) so they start dating.
1 month later, she goes to Jax who is out of hospital and tells him that she didn't put detergent in his drink but Gummigoo, and that she didn't know there was detergent in it. Jax didn't know whether to trust Pomni or Gummigoo, but he gave Pomni a chance even though he still didn't trust her very much. The Heaths, including Kinger, assume that their names are Jason, Agatha and Kilye.
Kylie sees that she was wrong, Agatha seeks treatment for her depression, and Jason stops smoking.
They stop bullying and the Heaths group ceases to exist, now Gangle, Pomni, Kilye, Jason and Agatha are friends.
Songs
Beautiful
Candy Store
Big Fun
Dead Girl Walking
Dead Girl Walking (reprise)
Shine a Light
Shine a Light (reprise)
Never Shut Up Again
Kindergarten Girlfriend
Seventeen
Meant To Be Yours
Yo, Girl
Lifeboat
Ships :
Bunnydoll / Ragatha x Jax
Scaredylovers / Gangle x Pomni
Funnygummy / Gummigoo x Pomni (Non-mutual feeling)
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a-dauntless-daffodil · 6 months ago
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Angel Dust: “D’ya ever get a weird feelin’ about this place?”
Husk: “Yeah. Sweet an sickening. Like fucking syrup.”
Angel Dust: “NEVER fuck usin’ syrup UGH.”
Niffty: “I think the floor right under the second story banister railings feels weirdest! Almost bouncy when you SMASH into it!”
Angel Dust: “Not what I meant, NFT. It’s more like-”
SOMETHING: (blurs past the open door behind them)
Door: (...crreeeeks softly on it’s hinges...)
Them: (turns and stare)
Angel Dust: “…it’s like, a cold draft, innit?”
Husk: (spooked) (fur fluffed) “Cheap as fuck place. Run down.”
Niffty: “Prime roach real estate!”
Angel Dust: “Unsettlin’. The word I’m lookin’ for is, unsettlin’.”
EYES: (blink open and glow in the shadowy corner above them.)
Angel Dust: “Creepy, even.”
EYES: (rotate 360 degrees) (still staring)
Angel Dust: “I dunno. Don’t ya just get the shivers sometimes in here? Brr.” (shudders)
Husk: “Guess the eternal pep can be kinda fucked up from the owner. No one in hell is really that fucking happy all the fucking time.”
Niffty: “I AM!!!”
Husk: “No one who’s not fucking Niffty is that happy in hell.”
Niffty: “I LOVE it here. You only got to die ONCE back in the living world.”
Angel Dust: “Once should be enough for anyone, Niffters.”
Niffty: (giggling) “Not for me! Not when it's comes to eating spiders.”
Husk: “Oh FUCK that-”
Niffty: “Think the thing watching us right now also eats spiders?”
Husk: “…”
Angel Dust: “…”
EYES: (blink) (vanish)
The Three of Them: (turn and stare)
Angel Dust: “….Husker? Any room in ya bed for guy who doesn’t wanna be alone tonight?”
Husk: “Fuck no. Anyone tries getting in my room tonight is being served a motherfucking Molotov cocktail on the house.”
Angel Dust: “I can make it worth ya while. Tire us both out so’s maybe we can get some actual sleep.”
Husk: “You think I’m gonna fucking sleep?”
Niffty: “Sometimes I eat the spiders in my sleep…”
Husk: “Niffty, I need you fucking shut up talking in that creepy little girl voice.”
Niffty: “Okay! But whyyyy~?”
Husk: “THAT’S fucking WHY.”
Angel Dust: “-shh! SHH SHHHH! D’ya hear that!?”
Husk: “Wh- don’t fucking touch me-”
Angel Dust: (strangling him a little with holding) “Husk holy shit!”
Husk: (claws out) (super floofed) “What? WHAT??”
Niffty: “Ohhh…..”
Angel Dust: “It’s COMIN’!”
Niffty: “Nooo it’s naaaw-auuuught~”
Husk: “WELL WHICH THE FUCK IS IT-!?”
Niffty: “It’s Here~”
SOMETHING: (drops in from the open window)
Them: (SCREAM)
Vaggie: “Have you guys seen- Stop screaming it’s just me- have any of you seen Charlie around?”
Husk: “FUCK! FUCK!!!”
Angel Dust: “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, MISS I CUNT USE THE FREAKING DOORS!”
Husk: “FUUUCK ME FUCK YOU FUCK ALL OF THIS-”
Niffty: “Aww.” (slumps) “Hi Vaggie….”
Vaggie: “Yeah hey… What’s got into you all?”
Angel Dust: “Into US? YoU-”
Niffty: “We’ve been terrified. It’s been fun!”
Husk: “YOUR FUCKING SHIT HOTEL IS FUCKING HAUNTED! Shit!”
Angel Dust: “You and ya rich girlfriend have hell’s worst unpaying guest creepin’ around, and ya wonder what’s up with US?!?!”
Vaggie: “Oh. So you have seen her.”
Niffty: “Ohhh…! It’s a her!”
Angel Dust: “HER WHO WHO HER YOU KNOW THE WHORE OF HAUNTING?”
Vaggie: “Sure. And don’t fucking call her that.”
Husk: “I don’t wanna fucking know I don’t wanna fucking know I don’t wanna I don’t wanna no no no fuck NO-”
Vaggie: (rolls eye)
Vaggie: “Sweetie? Can you stop with the friendship notes and come out now?”
Something: (from shadows) “I’m bi!”
Vaggie: (smiles) “Out in the open where they can see you, babe.”
Charlie: “Aww, Vaggieeee…” (slips out of shadows with notebook and pout) “You’re messing with the sterile observed conditions and data collection. They were bonding!”
Angel Dust: “TOOTS!?”
Husk: “Oh.. fuck… you.”
Vaggie: “They sure were clinging to each other at least.”
Husk: “Fuck you MORE I fucking wasn’t.”
Angel Dust: “TOOTS I THOUGHT I WAS GONNA DIE!”
Vaggie: “Weren’t stopping him from climbing you like a tree though, were you?”
Charlie: “Sorry about that, Angel Dust. I just got so excited-”
Husk: “Get. Fucked.”
Vaggie: “My girlfriend takes care of that already thanks.”
Angel Dust: “EXCITED? To be stalkin’ a guy like he’s a freaking gazelle on a shitty nature doc that skips all the fucking an’ only shows the non-sexy rippin’ an tearin’ an eatin’ alive bits!?”
Charlie: “Well-”
Niffty: “Hi Charlie! Were you watching us like bugs in a bug trap? Right before they get SQUISHED?”
Charlie: “-um no. No I wasn’t-”
Niffty: “Awww why nooooooooot?”
Charlie: “I wasn’t... trying to?”
Husk: “Oh that’s not fucking terrifying to fucking hear.”
Angel Dust: “TRY HARDER NOT TO NEXT TIME! Ugh! I’m too shaky to even make a hardness pun- AND I think this gave me STRESS WRINKLES. I WORK WITH THIS FACE! Among other body parts- I cannot fucking AFFORD wrinkles, Charmeleon!”
Charlie: “Aw guys I’m sorry! I just saw you three chatting together and.” (waves notebook) “Y’know?”
Vaggie: “I know, babe.”
Angel Dust: “NO!?”
Husk: “Fuck. No.”
Niffty: “Nope! I would’ve gone STRAIGHT into hunt and kill mode!”
Husk: “Which is what it fucking FELT like you fucking did.”
Charlie: “Ooookay then, my bad. But! You all feel better now you know it was just me, right?”
Them: “….”
Charlie: “B- because you know I’d never actually hunt any of your through the halls of my hotel. Right?”
Them: “……”
Charlie: “…you, you guys know you’re safe here and I didn’t bring you here for some fucked up creepy personal murder torture reason… right…?”
Them: “……….”
Niffty: (raises hand) “I-”
Charlie: “NIFFTY THANK YOU!! See? She believes-”
Niffty: “I felt really GREAT thinking you were hunting me for sport! Can I go back to thinking that?”
Charlie: “-that, you, oh. No that’s-” (droops) “…sure … whatever makes you happy, Niffty.”
Niffty: “YAY FEAR!” (hugs Charlie’s knees) (skitters away)
Angel Dust: “Oh yippie. Getting’ high off my ass and blackin’ all this out from my memory will make ME happy.” (flounces off) “Sweet dreams, toots! I sure as hell won’t be havin’ ‘em!”
Charlie: “I’m sor-”
Husk: “Anyone fucking needs me, don’t.”
Charlie: “Husk, I really-”
Husk: (already gone)  
Charlie: “….”
Charlie: “….. fuck.”
Vaggie: “It’ll be fine.” (pats Charlie gently) “Don’t freak out about it. They’re just, shook up.”
Charlie: (tired) “Except Niffty.”
Vaggie: “Niffty’s uhhh, she seems like the exception to most things yeah.”
Charlie: “She likes being scared of me.”
Vaggie: “Well. Thrilled? By you? I mean she gets her kicks out of it, so…”
Charlie: “I don’t like being scary.”
Vaggie: “You’re not.”
Charlie: “I scared them.”
Vaggie: “Startled and creeped out a little. It’s not the same thing.”
Charlie: “Isn’t it? I’m- I hate that I'm-”
Vaggie: “No.”
Charlie: “Vaggie.”
Vaggie: “You. Are. Not.”
Charlie: “But-”
Vaggie: (takes hand) “You’re a lot of things, Charlie Morningstar. Sometimes you’re a lot of those lot of things- which I love-”
Charlie: “Heh.”
Vaggie: “But being scary just by existing? Isn’t one of them. You can be you, all the way, the whole demon princess Charlie package- and not scare anyone. I promise."
Charlie: "Tell that to my ex..."
Vaggie: "I'll carve it into his stupid fucking skull- kidding! I'm kidding."
Charlie: "I'd believe that more if you hadn't already tried."
Vaggie: "Well believe me NOW when I'm trying to say- You can get scary when someone you love is hurt or threatened, sure. That's, not a bad thing. There's nothing about you that you need to hide to have people in your life. Living with you, every part of you, is great."
Charlie: "....."
Vaggie: "Charlie c'mon- I should know. If we’re talking observed data and stuff, I’ve already got three years of it. Right?”     
Charlie: “…right.” (weak smile) “I did it again though, didn’t I?”
Vaggie: “What, the intensely following around someone you’ve invited into your home trying to figure out how to make them feel more comfortable without bothering them or spooking them, working hard not to let them see how you spend hours just staring at them, taking in every little detail you can, but staring so hard they can feel it on the back of their neck anyway?”
Charlie: “And you’re sure that’s not scary. Like at all.”
Vaggie: “I always thought is was cute. Intense and a kinda worrying sign of how alone you’d been, sure, but cute.”
Charlie: “Hmph.”
Vaggie: (leans up to smooch her) “And our hazbins will too. Just give ‘em time.”
Charlie: “Our hazbins?” (grins) “Our? Oh now THAT’S cute.” (opens book and scribbles note) “Today… Vaggie.. bonded with…”
Vaggie: “I did not.”
Charlie: “…OUR- underline underline add some hearts- hazbins!”
Vaggie: “Charlie I didn’t. I barely even spoke with them.”
Charlie: “You’re comparing them to your past self and making connections between you when we first met and them now, aren’t you. You’re empathizing with them! That’s bonding! That’s ADORABLE!!”  
Vaggie: (sigh) “That’s my cue to drag you off to bed.”
Charlie: “You’re adorable~”
Vaggie: “Says the cute demon lady lovingly stalking her new friends.”
Charlie: “Do you think they’ll be friends with me? I mean I’m friends with them, but-”
Vaggie: “Charlie, they’ve met you. It’s inevitable.”
Charlie: “Heheh. Juuuust like this kiss~”
(smooch)
(smooch some more)
Vaggie: “Whoa there!” (chuckling) “Save it for the bed sweetie, or we’ll never get there.”
Charlie: (giggling) “Sorry. I’m not used to not having everything all to ourselves. And I suppose making out in the public areas wouldn’t be very polite, even in the middle of the night with no one around.”
Vaggie: “Probably. We’ve freaked them out enough for one day I think.”
Charlie: “There are definite downsides to having a hotel with actual other people living in it, huh….”
Vaggie: “Worth it?”
Charlie: “Mm. I hope so. I hope they’ll think so too.”
Vaggie: “They will, babe. They will.”
-Next Night-
-Alastor’s Radio Tower-
Alastor: (humming and happily prepping the next track for broadcast)
SOMETHING: (slowly rises up beyond the window behind him)
Alastor: (ears twitch) (adjust audio balance knob)  
SOMETHING: (presses against window)
Window: (Distinctive flesh-dragging-across-glass sound)
Alastor: (stops)
SOMETHING: (fades into shadows)
Alastor: (turns)
Window: (has smudge mark on it)
Alastor: “….hmm…” (walks over) (wipes window) (smudge stays bc it’s on the outside) “Interesting...”
Alastor: (goes back to disc jockeying)
SOMETHING: (reaches up and drags finger through smudge mark)
Alastor: (stops and turns)
Alastor: “Ohoho? My my my, now isn’t THIS just droll! Who COULD have left a message here for me. On my own radio tower! Smudging my glass! (smirks and walks over) “Hmm? Something dire and THREATENING no doubt? Not something they will REGRET I am SURE ha ha ha!”
Alastor: (bends down to read) “It appears to say…”
Window: (smudge has the word ‘FRIENDS’ written through it)
Alastor: (snaps back upright) (stares) (steps back) (stares harder)
Alastor: “…how… amusing.”
Alastor: (goes back to control panel)
Alastor: “….”
Alastor: (relaxes) (picks up microphone and holds it casually at the ready)
Alastor: (reaches for a record-)
SOMETHING: (slips past window behind him)
Alastor: (turning) (Shrieking) “KKKKSSSSSSSSFKKKSST” (yeets record out through window)
Window: (shatters)
Vaggie: “….”
Vaggie: “….hope that one wasn’t important, pendejo. It’s on the first floor now. In about a hundred pieces.”
Alastor: (lowering microphone) “Oh my dear I DO apologize!” (simpering) (Glowering) “Poor thing. Not hurt, are you? Not frightened at all I hope? Really I don’t know WHAT would have happened if I had happened to HIT you!”
Vaggie: “Me frightened? No.” (tosses cleaning rag over shoulder) “The scary little smudge is gone anyway, so I’m off. Bye.”
Alastor: “Oh delightful! You KNOW ABOUT-”
Vaggie: (gone)
Alastor: “……hmmmmmm….”
Charlie: “….”
Charlie: “She’s so hot when she’s all ‘doesn’t even blink when something almost would've decapitated her if she hadn’t casually leaned back’ isn’t she?”
Alastor: (shriek is broadcast all over Pentagram city, shattering the remaining windows in his radio tower)
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hxzelwallflower · 1 year ago
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Hard to believe some of the stuff people here just throw away , leave to be broken down or smashed into smaller pixels . While it's not the first time she's seen an outdated piece of equipment , listening to him ramble about it's quality is an entirely different matter . There are some details that separate it from current model , but still cheaper compared to most places who try to sell them used . However the chances of someone buying half a car are little to none , even in this area .
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❝ I believe "salvageable" , is the word you're looking for . ❞ ❝ Though I'd love to see the thing responsible for that kind of mark . ❞
She chuckled , investigating the 'dent' with morbid curiosity .
*HEY H-EY HEY EV3RY !!!! IT’S YOUR FAVOR1TE [most trusted salesman] SPAM-SPAMTON G. SPAMTON,, HERE WITH A [[specil deal]] 0N THIS [[lowest prices of the year!]]!!!
He is definitely not letting today, the day for deals and selling things, go by without making at least one huge sale. In a fashion exactly like that of a used car salesman, he slaps the door-because he’s too small to slap the hood-of a nearby, somewhat rusted Cungadero.
*I’VE GOT A BEUTIFUL [newest model of Cungadero for the year 1997!] H3RE FOR YA!!! JUST [[*engine starting*]] TH3 THING, TOO!!! ALL I W4NT FOR IT IS 7000 KROMER!!!!
*JU$T LOOK AT THIS [baby can fit so many-]]!!! 4ND ALL I WANT IS 7000 KROMER?!?!? [[What a steal!]]!!!
He’s grinning very, very widely. It’s been ages since he’s made even an attempt to sell a car.
*…But. 1T DOES HAVE A [[smol]] DENT [[auto accident? We can help!]] 1N THE BACK.
Not only are its back wheels completely flat, its trunk has been so throughly smashed in it looks more like formless, albeit shiny, metal than the back half of a car.
*S0 WHAT’LL IT B3??? 7000 KROMER FOR A [[slightly used]] CAR!!! ANY T4KERS???
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dreamwatch · 10 days ago
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Written for @corrodedcoffinfest
Prompt: Envy | Word Count: 1313 | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin, Steve Harrington, Corroded Coffin are ruthless, Eddie's going through it but it gets better, healing
(I didn't add any warnings for this, but if you think I've missed anything plese let me know)
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At least Eddie can say they were nice about telling him his services were no longer required.
He turns up for practice with a little pep in his wobbly step; he’s getting some strength back in his hands and he has some chords nailed down now and it’s coming along. Slowly. But Steve says it’s like sport, marginal gains, every win is still a win no matter how small. 
The vibe is off the moment he walks into the garage; the guys look at each other in silent conversation until Gareth says “We need to talk.”
Jeff and Matt look at him all sad-eyed and it all feels a little as if Eddie is a dog about to go for his last car ride.
“Look, Eddie, truth is, it doesn’t feel like things are really getting any better, you know? And we have this opportunity.”
A gig up in Chicago, a friend of his cousin got them in the door. There’s going to be A&R people there, and Eddie just isn’t good enough anymore.
“We’re really sorry, Eddie.”
Eddie and Wayne got t-boned in the truck once and he’ll never forget the force of it, hurtling sideways, the crunch of buckling metal, the sickening screech. And afterwards, once everything had come to a stop, the shrill ringing in his ears.
This feels kind of like being t-boned.
“So,” he says to Jeff, his voice more ragged than he expected, “how are you playing my solos?”
Suddenly they find the garage floor very interesting.
Oh god.
“You’ve already replaced me. Right?” He dips to catch their eyes. “Right?”
It’s Gareth that grows a pair and confirms what he already knew.
He stumbles back to the van and speeds out of the driveway, no idea of where he’s going, only knowing he’s not going home. His bedroom is a shrine to music, to metal, to things he loves and has now lost. He can’t bear the fucking thought of it.
He winds up at the lake, can hear birds and the rustle of trees over the sound of his breathing. He’s not much of a crier, not since he worked out that crying wouldn’t bring his mother back but would earn the occasional backhander from his father. So he sits in the back of his beaten up van and does his best to block out the buzz, block-out the voice that tells him he’s a failure, block out the voice that says it would have been better for everyone if he’d died in the Upside Down.
But the voice is loud.
The band leave but the world still turns, it’s just slower and darker than it was before. There are bright spots; he and Steve rent a two bedroom apartment together. After a while they don’t need that second bedroom.
He gets a job at the newly re-opened Radio Shack. Customers still side eye him, and his attempts at jovial conversation are met with blank stares more often than not, so he stops bothering after a while. He has Wayne and Steve, and the kids that aren’t kids anymore, and some days that’s more than enough. Some days.
Steve takes him to Indy to celebrate his birthday.
“We’re hitting up every record and comic book store in the city,” Steve says excitedly and Eddie has to smile back, it’s impossible not to. He gets to come home to this man every night, to climb into bed with him and fall asleep in his arms. It’s nice to have a good thing. Eddie holds onto that on the days that hurt.
They wander the aisles of Tower Records, Steve flashing him the ocassional top forty CD and Eddie flipping him off, and they have fun throwing mock abuse back and forth. He flicks through the metal section, flipping CDs with a practiced finger, pausing on the odd rare Japanese import or limited edition coloured case. Tower has all the fancy shit.
He gets to C and his heart stops.
His picks up the CD with a shaking hand; the logo is more polished but it’s still theirs. He turns it over and three familiar faces stare back at him, looking mean and moody for the camera. And one face he doesn’t recognise, the one that replaced him. He drops the CD into the Jazz section, before telling Steve he wants to go home.
They made it. They actually fucking made it. Maybe it’s only one album, maybe there were more, doesn’t matter, point is they got to have their dream and they kept Eddie from his.
Sweetheart hangs on the wall, covered in dust. There’s a kid out there somewhere that was like him once, had the passion and the talent but didn’t have the money.
It hurts too much to play. It hurts so much not too.
 Eddie puts her in the van with his amps and pedals and drops them off at a thrift store. 
They’re everywhere after that. A group of kids come into Radio Shack wearing their t-shirts. The Hawkins Post runs an article about them, small town boys made good. There’s no mention of Eddie; it’s the first time that it dawns on him there might have been other reasons they wanted to cut ties with him. Wouldn’t have been a good look to have an accused serial killer in the band, afterall.
Dustin admits that he and Mike have been to see them live a few times, they have the backstage passes and autographs to prove it. The absolute audacity of that band to be dolling out autographs to their friends like they’re fucking rock stars—
Right. 
Dustin and Mike never mention them again, and Eddie has a sneaking suspicion that Steve may have said something. Which sucks, because they’re his friends and they shouldn’t have to hide those things from him.
Then he hears them on the radio. 
He pulls the van over, and drops his head onto the steering wheel as he listens to them thunder from his speakers. They sound good. He would buy this record, he would see them live, if it were just anyone else. 
He starts to cry, because they’re better than they ever were with him, and it hurts that they did the right thing leaving him behind. 
Steve and Wayne worry that it’s going to swallow him whole. Eddie’s worried it already has.
He comes home one day to find a computer in their living room, and Dustin on his hands and knees. Apparently they’re connected to the internet now. He has no idea why. But on nights where Steve is working and there’s nothing on TV he starts to use it. His favourite bands have web pages and it’s a fucking revelation. He finds himself talking to people on the other side of the world, arguing with some asshole in England about Iron Maiden’s latest album being their worst (it is), or sending this sweet kid in Australia a list of NWOBHM records he’s got to check out. A whole new world opens up.
He’s three beers deep when he goes looking for Corroded Coffin’s site. His throat tightens as he clicks around the page, looking at their discography, at the tour photos. They played Madison Square Garden in 1997, same year he got promoted to manager at the store. His eyes swim but he can’t help but smile. Good for them. 
He clicks on the band history link and is shocked to see they mentioned him. There’s a photo too.
We miss Eddie every day.
Fuckers. He hates them. He misses them.
Maybe it’s time. He’s doing okay. He’s been in a happy relationship for over a decade, he earns enough to live, his health is okay. Is that so bad, really?
He scrubs at his eyes and hits up the message board and types:
Greetings from Eddie the Banished
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@the-unforgivenn ❤️
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murdrdocs · 1 year ago
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I just thought this was funny because Hobie's british
He's just dying in the heat and his S/O (who deals with it a lot better) is just walking around in a light jacket
this is sooo silly tehe
there's a near record breaking heat permeating london today. you were quickly made aware of the fact as soon as you woke up, radio already turned on to a low volume, another motown hit disrupted by the man who'd excitedly announced the weather.
the thing you notice next is the loud whirring of the fan coming from somewhere in the apartment. you rub your eyes, let your senses come to for a second, and you realize that there's multiple fans going off around the flat, even though you know you and hobie only owned one floor fan when you went to bed last night.
as your eyes clear up, you notice a new box fan just a few feet away from you, leaning against the wall and aimed directly towards where you and hobie sleep.
you look over, noticing the emptiness of the bed, and then you pick up on the shower running. walking into the bathroom, you're expecting to feel heat waves penetrate your skin from the area, but you don't. in fact, there's no steam on the glass, no layer of fog reaching the ceiling.
you're already prepared to bet that hobie's taking a cold shower, and when you open the door and feel nothing warm, your suspicions are confirmed.
"running hot?" you ask him, smirk unable to be wiped from your face. hobie looks over his shoulder, blinking through the droplets of water that runs down his face, and he scowls.
your smirk only grows tenfold.
"fuck off..." he's saying, but his hands are reaching out for you and suddenly you're pulled under freezing cold water, squeals and squeaks doing nothing to deter hobie's tormenting.
the two of you spend most of the day inside, but hobie decides it's too hot to use the stove or oven so suddenly you're walking down the street towards the bodega on the corner, a pep in your step and a drag in hobie's.
he's using some pamphlet he took from a guy attempting to convert you both to christianity on the street to fan himself, dark eyes turned towards you judgmentally.
"how're you wearing that?" he asks and it takes you a second.
your eyes turn down, beginning to scan your worn-down chucks, to your denim shorts, to the little tee shirt you wear. all the while, you're not paying much attention to your surroundings, leaving hobie to place his free hand on your waist and guide you out of the way of passerbys.
it's not until you reach your thin jacket that you notice what he's talking about, mouth contorting to an 'O' shape.
you shrug, looking back up, glancing at him with a shit-eating grin on your face.
"'s not that hot. there's a little breeze."
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