#rosies twitter au

[rosiespokemontwitterau]

*PTERODACTYL SCREECHING* ミﾟДﾟ彡

[rosiesbsdtwitterau]

Hi lol

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event v2024

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader Style: cisfem Character: Donquixote Rosinante Vibe: NSFW dubious consent AU: Monster AU Prompt: Writer's Choice (Pliant when horny) Gift Giver: @fanaticsnail

Summary: Winged Naga Rosinante and the unfortunate runaway sacrifice who ran into him (vs being fed to his brother, but I didn't really get into the specifics of that in the story).

Content Notes: dubious consent, pliant when horny, double penetration, monster Rosi got two dicks, mind fuck

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

The cave had not been empty.

You ran through the woods, twigs and underbrush snapping and rustling at your every move. You weren’t trying to be quiet, you were trying to be fast. You needed to get back to the village before what had been sleeping in that cave caught up with you.

The human face had caught you off guard, but when the clouds had cleared you realized just how inhuman it actually was. The eyes held you, almost dragging you in, but you’d bolted before he could grab you. The human hands were attached to arms that were covered in scales. Dragon, snake - you didn’t know, but only because you hadn’t stuck around to find out.

The lights of the village came into view before a blur of motion whipped in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. The beast coiled around you, a long snake-like body glinting in the moonlight. The blonde hair on his head was wavy, and golden even in the silver light of the moon. Intense eyes watched you, color and clarity pinning you in place.

You tried to scream, but wide, white, feathery wings snapped open, blotting the village from view and making everything silent.

You couldn’t hear your heart, or your breathing.

There were no more sounds in the forest, and the soft din of the village was gone.

The world had never before been so completely silent.

You could feel the impact of the ground as you fell back and landed on your ass, but not even the sound of a grunt, or the clatter of your teeth, or the soft rumple of leaves and dust could be heard. The beast shifted, coming down to you and tightening his coils.

Relax.

The word comes into your mind, even though you hadn’t heard it. You can feel your heart begin to calm and you’re able to focus on your surroundings better.

Calm.

You relax more, as the strange emotion washes over you. Now that you’re not gripped by fear you realize that this creature, some sort of winged naga, is very handsome. His face is gentle, if not focused intently on you, and his actions are careful.

As the long coils of his tail nudge and move you lovingly, you become aware that he could’ve snapped you up like lightning if he’d meant to do so. He only stopped you because-

- right. You’d been out at the cave to get away from the village. You were supposed to be sacrificed, but your guard had fallen asleep and you’d made a break for it. If you went back now.

Mine.

His? Was this who you were supposed to be sacrificed to? That didn’t seem right.

The tail coils around your arms, but you barely notice. It’s warm. The night had been cold, but the warmth from this creature was comforting. Once, twice, you hadn’t given it much thought until the tail slipped between your legs, parting them as it lifted you up. The tail was thick like his torso. It was almost like being on the back of a horse as he lifted you easily and brought you closer to his face.

The bumps of the smooth scales are an interesting sensation against your skin, and it pulls you out of your calm enough to take note. There’s a warmth that throbs in your body and you struggle against the scales.

The handsome faced creature leans in closer, wings folding around you both. He reaches out and very lightly brushes his fingers up your neck, tilting your head up with a single finger under your chin. This act pulls your gaze to his and you can feel your mind go fuzzy even as your body throbs harder.

Your lips move, but you’re not sure what words you would say if you could say anything.

Kiss.

You part your lips and nod. There’s no reason to over think anything. You couldn’t escape now even if you had the clarity to do so.

His lips are soft, the kiss is gentle. It’s warm, and a little dry, and it takes a moment for you to realize that his tongue is forked, but he’s already exploring your mouth, a hand at the back of your head holding you close. A soft moan flutters against your ribs and you can feel the tail coiled around you tense in response.

Touch.

Of course, you think. You’re already touching me. I’m surrounded by scales, the ridges are sending shivering pleasure through my skin. Why even ask at this point?

The kiss breaks and he leans back enough to look into your hazy eyes.

Please.

You nod, and the coils fall away from you, only the one between your thighs staying, keeping you at an even level with him. Without prompting you pull the thin whisper of clothing you’d been left with off, tossing it aside before leaning back and placing your hands behind your hips, leaning against his tail, effectively offering yourself up.

Large hands grip your body and with the heavier touch you can feel the rough callouses and scars marred along his skin. In the moonlight you hadn’t noticed them, but now that you can feel them, you notice the criss-crossed lines everywhere. The struggle this creature has stood against must’ve been tremendous.

Rough thumbs roll over your breasts, teasing the sensitive flesh. There’s no sound as you gasp at the touch, no sweet song as your body trembles from the building warmth. When his hand moves down to your thighs you grabb onto the wrist still at your chest, holding on as you look down and watch his hand.

You want him to touch you. Every part of your body is on edge for it, coiled and tense and desperate. You’ve never needed someone to touch you more.

His fingers press against your clit as his lips devour yours again. If not for his power your surprised screech would’ve echoed through the entire village. Your fingers claw at his wrist as his fingers work jolts through your body, fingers slipping further down you slit and pushing into your pussy as his thumb worked against your clit.

More.

More, please, more! You nod your head, whimpering soundlessly. Wet slick against his scales is making you feel them more acutely, and his tail wraps around your body again. This time the scales seem to pet your body, bringing you closer to the edge as he moves you closer to his torso. Wet fingers push into your ass, and your body jolts. The strange sensation is so slicked, so careful, that there’s no pain you can sense.

It feels good, it all feels so good, you don’t care what he does, you just want more. Want him to give you more. You want to sob and cry for him, you want to scream his name for the moon to hear.

“Rosinante.” He says in a soft tenor voice.

The sound barely registers as the wet sounds of his fingers leaving your ass is followed by the heated, tapered tip of his cocks lining up with both your cunt and ass. You’d never lain with anyone before now, and this creature was going to claim you entirely.

The sweet stretch was terrifying and relaxing at the same time. More than you knew how to deal with, overwhelming and seemingly without end. Just before you were certain you couldn’t take anymore, thick knots nested against your body.

His name would reach the moon, either as your final euphoric cry of death, or as the first hot gasping breath heralding many more sweet crescendos afterward.

Either way, you were happy, because you were his.

[anachilles]

rosie being an insufferable jazz fan in the canon verse equals him being an insufferable pop music gay in the modern era.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be. 

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant. 

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace. 

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you. 

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?” 

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry 

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read. 

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once. 

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now. 

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time. 

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door. 

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie. 

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches. 

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door. 

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes. 

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”

[celtrist]

Obsession AU! Alastor with an alternate pink-ish version (because I'm indecisive and colors will just always evade me)!

More info is below!

So I realized that while the AU is all about Alastor, I never actually talked about how Alastor is in the AU! I've done a bit of a redesign for his character, though nothing too huge. I wasn't intending on a full redesign

So to start with some items he just has, there are really only two additions: A pocketbook and a watch! The pocketbook was initially used to write down notes and thoughts on the fly for his radio show! He still uses it for that occasionally, but it's turned primarily into a journal detailing his experience with the curse. It's where he keeps his own thoughts about what occurs around or to him there, his plans for the day, and the habits (and schedule) others may follow. It's how he best keeps on top of his suitor's antics and best prepares to deal with them These habits may have a consistent time of occurring (such as Angel and Husk waiting until night to drug Alastor or Rosie only trying to drug him during lunch). Both these timed occurrences and the more "general/can happen whenever" occurrences are noted down on each suitor's personal pages to keep track of what they do. These people he notes the habits of are people he spends his time often around and needs to be wary of. (i.e. there's a page or two specifically detailing Angel's habits, and the same with Husk, Niffry, Charlie, Rosie, etc.)

Alastor's new pocket watch helps him keep up with the time to follow other's movements and track how long events may occur between one another and the general time. This was in part due to being unable to keep track of time during his time with Vox, so he developed a habit of frequently checking it. He never leaves without it and feels the most comfortable keeping track of the time and passing of it, down to the second. The engraving on the watch is the symbol for New Orleans as a reminder of his home, and the inside has details for that of deer antlers! I would've put some voodoo symbols but uh, that's a touchy subject currently so thought it best to scrap the idea. The unofficial motto of "Laissez les bons temps rouler" for New Orleans meaning "let the good times roll" is engraved on the back of the watch.

Now to his sorta "injuries". To start from oldest to newest, Alastor was branded on the tongue during his brief time with Vox! This idea I nicked from this comic by zx12mn34 on Twitter & PostType. (Which, fun fact, if I remember right, these two comics are also what led to the idea of the Obsession AU and another MUCH darker "Unwilling Bride" AU!) So credit where credit is due there!

Alastor's right ear can no longer stand up straight! If he's surprised it may pick up, but the tip will remain crooked!

This occurred by his soul owner, not long after his time with Vox!

In a less visual sense and given by an anon, Alastor has damage to his stomach lining! It's only to the point of affecting his diet with spicy or spiced meals, so he's had to suffer eating more bland items for his taste.

Finally the fimble! Due to a close call with one of Vaggie's traps, he scathed out with only a lost finger in the end! He's since put a fimble on it to have something there. He's decorated it with his own bit of flare because a boring old fimble would be boring! "ALWAYS SMILE" is on the rim of the fimble with a fun smiley face on what would be his nail. It's a bit scratched from his fidgeting and he'll sometimes keep something to doodle symbols on it, but only the smiley face and words actually stay on it!

Alastor is a lot more tired in this AU, and contrary to his canon counterpart, isn't as big of a fan for attention. He still carries himself with a strong sense of confidence and elegance, but is much more wary of others'. He will genuinely treat others more as a serious threat, Vox being someone he often gets quiet about due to his betrayal. Alastor has adjusted in the 90 or so years to live with this curse and will use it to his advantage whenever possible. This will be done in various ways like pitting suitors against one another or getting what he wants when threat and violence don't offer the desired effect:

Flirting isn't his preferred method of course but is what he does when there's no other option or when the suitor he's interacting with might be more dangerous or needs to remain on their good side. It's a tactic he will occasionally use with Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer, but only if they're really not budging on a request he has.

Alastor still keeps his presentation relatively tidy, so his hair is still neat and his outfit pristine. He wants to keep that look of control, so he does so via his faux appearance. However, he's pretty high-strung due to the constant stress and harassment he endures in everyday life. More prone to anxiety, even more trust issues than in canon, and more adverse to touch. Alastor avoids getting into other people's personal space in this AU and even wears gloves that are comedically identical to his own hands (which kinda still unclear if that's canon or not with the glove things, but for this AU it is). Alastor is more affected by certain things and, I guess you could say can get triggered by things that remind him of certain events (like his time with Vox or Rosie). While he isn't fragile like glass, he's got a pretty thick skin given the situation he has, Alastor certainly has more moments of weakness. In those moments he may let others do whatever to him because of just being exhausted and not wanting to think. This includes Angel drugging him, Vaggie dressing him, and Charlie or Lucifer getting cuddly among others.

Currently in the story, his most "trusted companions" are his shadows and Keekee (due to disliking him).

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 3)

paring: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 3 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 2 here)

so you agree to go on a date with lando, much to charles' dismay and even though you made it a rule not to date drivers, part of you knows that the second the night comes to an end, you'll be wondering why you ever made that rule in the first place

word count: 5.7k tags: subtle mention of death, established friendships, minor social media au aspects, this is mostly fluff

Ignoring social media was easy. You could just silence your phone. 

Ignoring your brother was impossible, seeing as he practically forced himself into your hotel room after leaving the circuit. 

A lot of the drivers were going out and partying, Charles should have joined them. Instead, he was pacing back and forth at the end of your bed as you finished touching up your make up. 

“I lost a bet, Charles, stop making a big deal out of it,” you didn’t want him to overreact about you going out with Lando, but it was too late. 

Charles was standing only a few feet away when Lando approached you at the end of the race, but he couldn’t ask you about it until you were all back at the hotel. Needless to say, when you dumbed it down and said you lost a bet which resulted in you going out with Lando, Charles wasn’t too happy. 

“So you like him?” Charles questioned, catching your glare in the reflection. 

“As a person, yes.” You applied a layer of lip gloss and blotted it on a tissue before continuing, “Do I want to marry him and have his babies? No, Charles, I don’t. I lost a bet. It’s one date and you’re the only person making a big deal out of it.”

That wasn’t true. Most of F1 twitter was making a big deal out of it. Lando might have asked you quietly if you were free tonight, but apparently there were some professional lip readers out there who managed to piece together what he asked you when the videos of him leaning in had surfaced.

You stood up from the chair and nudged Charles out of the way so you could grab a zip-up hoodie resting on the edge of the bed. Lando didn’t tell you what you were doing tonight, but you assumed it would be casual. 

“So where are you guys going?”

“No idea.”

“Do you even want to go out with him?”

You pulled the zipper up halfway and turned to Charles, trying to understand why he was so against the idea of you going out with one of his friends. You both knew he was a good guy and it wasn’t as though you made it clear you were actually interested in Lando nor have you ever come out and hinted towards a relationship with him. It was just two friends going out.

This date was going to be a casual, a one time thing. It wouldn’t happen again, but no matter how many times you repeated that to Charles, he still had his concerns. 

“Lando and I are friends. This is no different than me hanging out with Carlos.”

“But you don’t usually hang out with Carlos and if you do, it’s because I’m with him.”

“You need to cool it with the whole overprotective brother thing. It's very early-2000's-romcom."

There was a knock on the hotel room door and both you and Charles turned your head. 

You held up a finger towards him seeing as he was closest, “Don’t you dare.”

Of course he didn’t listen to you. Charles bolted towards the door and you swore at him as you caught up, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him back. Charles pressed his hand to your forehead, pushing you out of the way and you had no choice but to dig your heel into the back of his knee so he dropped to the ground. 

Charles still tried to reach for the handle and you forced your way in between him and the door, keeping him at an arm's length by pressing against his shoulder and when you had a free second, you finally answered it.

“Hey,” you were breathless. And not because Lando looked, dare you say, adorable in his typical Quadrant shirt and rosy cheeks and also not because he was holding a bouquet of daisies this time instead of a single flower. But because as soon as you swung the door open, Charles had stood up and pushed you out of the way, practically knocking you into the wall. 

Lando had no idea what he was getting himself into. He took a step backwards and watched as the door closed slowly. He could have sworn he saw you about to take a swing at Charles, but no sound followed except for you yelling at your brother to fuck off and him yelling something back at you in Italian.

The door opened again, but this time it was Charles instead of you who was standing there.

He was also breathless. He eyed Lando up, eyebrows pinched together in an attempt to be intimidating, “Where are you taking her?”

“Joyride, probably, in a stolen vehicle,” Lando answered without any hesitation. “And then we might get matching tattoos, but that depends on how long it takes for us to rob a bank first.”

With literally all of the strength you had, you side-checked Charles, sending him stumbling away from the door. You smiled at Lando and quickly ran your fingers through your hair, knowing that none of it was in place anymore.

“Hi,” you said again, less out of breath this time. “Bank robbery?”

“Yeah I figured committing a felony in a foreign country is probably on your bucket list.”

 A laugh passed through your lips, “You know me so well.”

Charles gripped the side of the door and pulled it all the way open, “I don’t approve of this.”

“We’re not actually doing anything illegal,” Lando clarified with a chuckle of his own. When it was evident that Charles wasn’t finding this amusing, Lando’s smile dropped and he cleared his throat. 

You were expecting him to apologise, or to tell Charles what he actually had in mind, but with the most serious expression he could force his features into, Lando plucked one of the daisies from the bouquet and handed it to Charles.

“Don’t wait up, mate.”

Lando grabbed your hand before Charles could get another word out, pulling you into the hallway. You glanced over your shoulder just in time to see the door shut on your brother's face. 

You felt so childish. Lando’s hand in yours as you ran towards the elevator, both of you knowing that this date probably wasn’t the best idea but neither of you caring enough to say something to stop it. There was an incredibly high chance that Lando would be recognized wherever you went, and if you were spotted with him, which you would be, twitter would be all over it.

But you didn’t let yourself think about that as you stepped into the elevator. Lando let go of your hand and pressed the button to head down to the lobby. As he leaned back against the wall, he finally handed you the daisies. 

“What am I supposed to do with these?” You asked, carefully grabbing the steps.

Lando shrugged, “I did my part.”

“Your part?” You asked. “What does that mean?”

Lando let his head fall back against the elevator wall as he laughed, “I said I’d get you a bouquet and I did! I don’t care what you do with them.”

You should have expected that sort of answer from Lando.

“Where are we headed anyway?” You asked next. “What did you plan?”

The doors opened with a quiet ding. Lando grabbed your hand again. You noticed that each time he reached for you, you grew more and more comforted by his touch. It was a slow progress, but it was something.

But Lando wasn’t going to give away what he had in mind for this evening adventure. He stayed quiet, lips sealed and turned upwards into a smirk as he led you towards the front doors of the hotel. 

Parked out front was a luxury, black Audi. You didn’t have to ask if Lando rented it for the night, that question was answered when the valet handed the key to him. He grabbed the handle of the passenger door and pulled it open for you, taking the flowers momentarily as you buckled your seat belt. 

Before he could shut the door, you looked up at him and asked again, “Come on Norris, where are we going?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Not in the slightest.”

With another laugh, Lando shut the door, leaving you as clueless as you were before. You watched as he spoke to the valet for a moment before getting into the driver's seat. Lando took a quick look at his surroundings and then he sped off into the streets of Montreal. 

4

“You don’t like red velvet?” Lando asked as he took a bite of a cupcake he had just purchased from a pop up vendor. Some cream cheese icing stuck to his upper lip and you stifled your laughter behind your hand as you shook your head.

“No, it’s not my favourite,” you said, grabbing a napkin before leaving the stand. You handed it to Lando and his quick eyebrow twitch doubled as a thank you as he wiped his face.

He swallowed the bite before moving onto his next question, “Does pineapple belong on pizza?”

“Absolutely not,” you shook your head again. “And what the hell are these questions?”

Lando quickly scarfed down half of the cupcake, stepping closer to you when a couple of kids went running past in the opposite direction. He’d been asking you the most absurd questions ever since he parked the car, ranging from childhood related ones to favourites and dislikes. It was giving you whiplash, and he also wasn’t letting you ask any. 

“I’m just trying to get to know you better,” Lando answered casually. “I feel like everyone knows me, or knows a lot about me which is fine, it’s the life I signed up for but I don’t know anything about you.”

“That’s not true,” you argued. “You know my favourite desert.”

“And that you like daisies.”

He finished the rest of the cupcake and you took the wrapper from him, tossing it in the nearby trash can. When you turned back around, you spotted a few strangers watching you, or more specifically, watching Lando.

“Go take a picture with them,” you encouraged.

“I’m out with you,” he said quietly, purposely avoiding the eager eyes of the motorsport fans. “I don’t want to be rude.”

You rolled your eyes, this might have been the first time you rolled your eyes since he knocked on the door. “Lando, it’s not rude. If I didn’t want to be interrupted, I wouldn’t have gone out in public with an F1 driver.”

You could see how conflicted he was. He really did want to spend time with you. He’d been signing autographs all weekend.

But he was still a world famous driver when he stepped off the track. You pushed on his shoulder, subtly moving him in the direction of the fans before he could argue with you. 

You watched as his face instantly lit up, mirroring the young fans, as they exchanged a few words and he signed the back of their shirts. Lando glanced your way and you offered him a smile, but he wasn’t done with this impromptu meet and greet. A few other people recognised him, and then a few more, and then a few more. 

After almost ten minutes passed, you found a bench to wait on. You could still see Lando and the circle of fans that had grown around him and you made sure he could still see you. He’d look over his shoulder every few seconds, just to make sure you hadn’t grown tired of hanging around. 

But Lando didn’t know it was impossible for you to become bored of this. You got a lot of joy out of watching him interact with the people who looked up to him, admired him. It put a smile on your face each time someone new asked for a selfie or for him to sign something. 

It was obvious that Lando had a huge heart. Not only did he care about his friends and family, but he cared about every single person that ever approached him. He tried to make their experience special, even if it was a five second conversation. 

When Lando pointed towards you, you watched as a few girls wearing Ferrari shirts recognised you instantly. You smiled of course, but you were planning on staying seated. You weren’t the Formula 1 driver, that title belonged to your brother and the boy you were on a date with. 

You were always the proud sister of Charles Leclerc, but that same fulfilling feeling started to sink in as you watched Lando. 

When Lando finished up a few minutes later, he approached you with his arm outstretched for you to slide your hand into his. 

“You ready to call it a night?” 

You and Lando had been out for a few hours already, time raced by. Much like the evening he came to your flat unexpectedly, conversation flowed naturally, Lando didn’t allow there to be a lull with all of his questions anyway.

You didn’t want this night to end, but you both had early flights and this date wasn’t supposed to take your entire evening away. You could admit you had fun, but you were okay with calling it here.

You grabbed his hand and he helped you up. Lando waved once more at the group of fans as he led the two of you out of the market. 

He cleaned his neck to look down at you, “I’m s-”

“Don’t even think about apologising,” you were quick to cut him off, already knowing that the next word out of his mouth was going to be sorry. 

“But I am,” Lando said. “I was with the fans for a while.”

“So?” You raised your eyebrows. “Lando I love that there are people out here who love you, who recognise you in Canada for christ sakes. I can hang out with you whenever. For these fans, those five seconds they just had with you might be the only five seconds they ever get. I’m not going to take away any time from them nor should you feel bad, ever.”

You arrived at the parked car and you reached for the handle, but Lando stopped you before you could do anything just by tightening his grip on your hand the tiniest bit. He brushed his thumb over yours and as you met his gaze, you couldn’t get a read on him. You had no idea what sort of thoughts were going through his head.

And then he smiled, the kind of smile that would make his cheeks hurt if he held it for too long.

“Thank you,” he practically whispered those words. It made you wonder what sort of people he hung out with that made him feel guilty for giving his attention to fans.

“You don’t need to thank me, Lando,” you assured him. “I grew up in this lifestyle too, remember?”

You couldn’t count all of the times you were out with your family and Charles and Arthur were stopped by adoring fans. Over time, it just became a normal occurrence and you never let it bother you. 

Lando opened the door for you and waited until your seatbelt was on before shutting it. When he slid into the driver's seat, he didn’t turn the car on right away. Like seconds prior, he just turned his head to look at you, his eyes darting all over your face.

His mouth parted just enough for his tongue to poke through as he licked his lower lip, “If I wasn’t such a gentleman, I’d kiss you right now.”

His comment wasn’t supposed to make you laugh, but it did anyway. You pulled your fingers through your hair. “Oh, you’re a gentleman? Really?” 

Lando rolled his eyes at your rebuttal, “You hurt me, you know? You crush my ego. A lot.”

You nudged his arm, “Just drive the car.”

The hotel wasn’t too far away, and you were lucky enough that silence with Lando was comfortable, not awkward. For a while, the only sound came from the quiet radio station, playing French songs that Lando kept asking you to translate on the drive to the market, and the faint hum from the air conditioning.

And then Lando turned the radio off completely, keeping his eyes on the road, “Can I ask you something?”

You snorted, “You’ve been playing twenty questions all night, you’re really asking for permission now?”

Lando laughed as well, taking a second to glance your way. Your answer was equivalent to a ‘go ahead,’ so he went for it. Unintentionally causing this night to take a turn. 

“Have you ever dated anyone?”

You didn’t even need to think about it, “No.”

“Why not?”

Lando stopped at an intersection. The red light from above beaming down on half of his face. You could hear the crosswalk countdown through the glass and laughter coming from a group of people crossing the street, but the second you looked at Lando, all of that became background noise.

“It’s hard to let my guard down around people,” you admitted. “When Charles and Arthur started working their way up in motorsport, a lot of people wanted to get close to me just to get close to them. Girls wants to date them. Guys wanted to be their best friends. No one saw me for me. I always- I still am, I guess- the sister of the Leclerc drivers.”

The light turned green and the engine came to life again, but Lando reaching across the centre console to rest his hand on your leg only encouraged you to keep opening up to him. 

“Growing up, it was hard to figure out someone's true intentions,” you noticed Lando’s jaw clenched for a moment, like he could understand what you meant by that. He could. “I’m still young, but I like to think I have a better idea now than I did back then. And honestly, it’s for the best. Why allow myself to get heartbroken by someone who doesn’t actually care about me?”

If only you knew what Lando was thinking. 

I care about you, he wanted to say. God he wanted to scream it. 

But he couldn’t. He knew that this date was a one time thing. He knew your intentions, you wanted to remain friends. You didn’t date drivers. 

Why didn’t you date drivers?

You slept with Pierre, but you never actually had feelings for him. Or any driver for that matter, from what he could recall.

“Can you explain something to me, then?” Lando asked, again taking a second to look at you. He hated that he was driving right now, he wanted to give you all of his attention. He didn’t want you to have to share it with the road. “Why don’t you date drivers, Y/N? Or, athletes in a similar field? You grew up in this lifestyle so wouldn’t it be easier to be in a relationship with someone who you don’t have to worry is trying to get something out of you?”

His question was innocent enough. It wasn’t as though he was trying to convince you to date him, or even give him a real chance, it was a genuine thought that he had. He was only trying to get to know you better.

But he had no idea the can of worms he just opened.

Lando saw the sliver of a painful smile stretch across your lips as you looked down, fiddling with the ring on your thumb. He didn’t know you to be nervous, you were never nervous. Not even when Pierre made you uncomfortable, not when strangers approached you. You were always confident. Maybe a little apprehensive, but never nervous. 

“Lando I’ve seen people I’ve grown up with have their lives destroyed because of motorsport.”

The heavy exhale you let out almost broke him. He thought about pulling over just so he could take your hand in his as you spoke, but he kept his eyes on the road, letting you work through whatever was sitting on your shoulders. 

“Friends,” you said quietly. “Family.” 

Jules Bianchi wasn’t just Charles’ godfather.

“Being the sister of racing drivers, I’ve accepted reality as it is,” you scratched the side of your face, feeling a sense of uneasiness travelling all throughout your body. “I know how dangerous the sport is, I know what my brothers have signed up for and I know the risks they face every time they get in the car. It’s not easy to think about, but I’ve accepted it. They want to drive the fastest cars in the world and I’m going to stand behind them and support them no matter what.”

Another breath. Lando sensed what was to follow.

“But…” you paused, needing a second to shake your head, needing a second to ignore the flashes of all the incidents coming to the forefront of your mind. “Every time there’s an accident, I can’t breathe. For ten seconds, twenty, thirty, however long it takes until they get out of the car or confirm that they’re okay over the radio, my world stops. I’m lucky, you know, my world hasn’t stopped all that much recently, Arthur and Charles have had some really good races, but the risk is still there and I have to brace myself for that silence over the radio every time something goes wrong. That’s what breaks me. Thinking that maybe I won’t get a response this time.”

You still hadn’t answered Lando’s question. He knew that everything you said, while important, was only the lead up to what he really wanted to know. 

“Now imagine I was dating you,” you shifted in your seat but Lando kept his hand on your thigh, refusing to let go. “Imagine we were together and for whatever reason, you collided with Charles.”

If Lando was being honest with himself, that was never a thought that crossed his mind. Of course he knew all about the risks when he got into the car, and of course he thought about being with you, but he never looked at those situations from the same perspective. 

“That's twice my world stops. Twice as much silence I have to brace myself for,” you explained, your voice breaking while doing so. “And if something did happen, that’s twice as much pain. Twice as much heartbreak. Twice as difficult to find a reason to get out of bed in the morning.”

You were crying now. Not much, you took pride in yourself for being emotionally strong, but there were still a few tears that slipped as you thought about all of the dangers that could come from Formula 1. You raised your hand to wipe them away and Lando was quick to interlock his fingers with yours before you could go back to fiddling with your ring.

Lando was nearing the hotel now and he didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he could say, nothing that would help, nothing that would assure you that scenario would ever happen because that was simply a promise he couldn’t make.

The lights of the hotel growing closer had you wiping your eyes again, just to make sure they wouldn’t be puffy as you stepped out of the car. The last thing you needed was to run into someone you knew and for them to question what the hell happened with Lando that left you in tears.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, finally turning to face Lando. He parked in front of the doors, but held a finger up to the valet, indicating that they still needed another minute before getting out. 

“This isn’t something you need to apologise for, Y/N,” Lando told you, sounding sincere and defeated at the same time. His eyes met yours and you could see the weight that was originally on your shoulders was now being transferred to his. 

“But we had such a fun night,” you said through a soft chuckle. “And then I just dumped that lot on you and-” you shrugged, “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to think I don’t like you. I do. I just will never allow myself to be vulnerable with you, or any driver for that matter.”

You did like Lando. As a friend, definitely. Possibly, probably, more if his occupation didn’t involve driving up to 300 km/h. 

But he was in the same dangerous field as Charles which meant you had to be safe because they couldn’t be. 

“Hey,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “If it means anything, this was probably one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.”

That did make Lando smile, but it was followed with an eye roll, “It’s probably the only date you’ve ever been on.”

“And now the bar is set incredibly high.”

Lando didn’t want to let go of your hand. 

You also didn’t want to let go. 

The second you stepped out of the vehicle, the date was over. He’d go back to working his way up your ranking and he wouldn’t be able to use the podium ultimatum again, it was a one time deal. You’d have no reason to keep seeing him outside of the races and you knew that simply because you wanted to just wasn’t strong enough. 

You and Lando weren’t supposed to be anything more than what you were now.

So you let go of his hand and reached for the handle of the door to push it open. Lando took an extra second to let that entire conversation sink in before he followed you, making sure to grab the daisies that had been left in the back seat. They were a little wilted, but they were still yours. He wouldn’t let you forget them.

You walked side by side to the elevator, thanking him quietly when he handed over the bouquet. When the steel doors opened, you both stepped in and it would have been perfectly okay if you stood in opposite corners.

Instead, you leaned against the back of the elevator and dropped your head to his shoulder, staring down at the white and yellow flowers wrapped in brown paper. Lando dropped his head too, to rest on top of yours.

An unspoken agreement that this was coming to an end. This date, this night, this moment. 

But that didn’t sit right with Lando.

“What if…”

You lifted your head, once again trying to piece together what he was thinking as the numbers on the screen slowly started to ascend. 

“What if we pretend for two minutes that I’m not a driver?”

It took all of you not to roll your eyes because you could see that it was a genuine question. Your mouth curved up into a gentle smile and you so badly wanted to go along with that idea. 

But those two minutes would be enough for you to forget every promise you’ve ever made to yourself. Two minutes with Lando, acting as though he wasn’t a Formula 1 driver, would lead into four and then eventually ten and then an hour and the next thing you knew, you’d be in McLaren garage, holding your breath for him, not just for Charles anymore.

“No,” you whispered. “I can’t.”

Lando nodded. It was worth a shot. 

Two minutes would be enough to destroy you.

The elevator doors opened on your level and Lando held his arm out, letting you take the first few steps. As you walked quietly down the hallway, you glanced up at him, wondering how much this night would affect your friendship moving forward.

You handed Lando the flowers so you could take a second to find your room key, but before you could unlock the door, Lando took hold of your hand and forced you to give him your attention one last time.

“For the record, this was probably one of the best dates I’ve been on as well.”

A blush crept up to your cheeks. No matter what, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling like an idiot. 

You desperately wanted this night to end on a good note, you wanted him to know that you still cared about him, that you were still friends, that you still liked him even after you basically rejected all of his advances, serious or not.

So you playfully pushed on his arm, “You didn’t even bring up my driver ranking once.”

Lando hit his forehead, “Damn it, I knew I was forgetting something.”

And you rolled your eyes, because you always did when something stupid passed through his lips. Lando laughed at that reaction as he handed the flowers back to you. 

“Have I passed Mr. Canadian yet?”

You thought about it for a second before eventually leading into a slow nod, “Yeah, I’d say you did. Your up to fourth.”

“LN4,” he grinned. “That’s me, baby.”

God you hated how much his smile affected you. You hated that the muscles in your face went into auto drive and smiled back because of how contagious it was. And you fucking hated that you liked being the reason for that stupid grin.

You almost regretted saying no to his two-minute proposal in the elevator, but again, two minutes had the power to destroy you. That was too long, you couldn’t risk it. That was enough time for him to kiss you and trail his lips down your neck to find the spot you couldn’t resist. You’d be opening up the door and dragging him in before those 120 seconds were up.

But…

You inhaled a sharp breath, “Thirty seconds.”

Lando’s eyebrows pinched together, “What?”

“Thirty seconds,” you repeated, a bit quieter, contemplating if this was a good idea. It probably wasn’t. “I can’t give you two minutes, but we can pretend for thirty seconds that you’re not a driver.”

You knew Lando had good reaction time, but you didn’t expect his hands to cup your cheeks that quickly. The flowers fell from your grasp as Lando pulled your face to his, tilting your chin upwards so he could crash his lips against yours before you could take back anything you said. 

If it was possible for someone to take all of the air out of your lungs from a single kiss, Lando was doing it and you didn’t even care because the feeling of his mouth on yours was more intoxicating and inviting than oxygen, or the lack of, ever could be. His tongue slid past your lips. You could taste the red velvet cupcake he had earlier and all of a sudden it was your new favourite dessert.

You gripped onto the front of his shirt, pulling him close as his fingers slid towards the back of your neck and twisted through your hair. Both of you doing everything you could to memorise this moment before it was gone. You wanted to still feel the ghost of his lips on yours when these thirty seconds were up, you wanted to regret putting a timer on it and simultaneously regret letting yourself do this. 

Lando kissed you like he had been waiting all night to do this, maybe he had. Maybe this was something he wanted to do since the second he parked his car after finishing third in the Grand Prix. 

And then he pulled away.

His nose brushed against yours and it took all of your strength to not reconnect your lips. It didn’t help that he teased you by brushing them right over yours. He was breathing in each of your exhales and in return you were doing the same. 

There was no way that was thirty seconds. You weren’t counting, clearly too preoccupied with his tongue roaming around your mouth, but you knew damn well that wasn’t anywhere near thirty seconds. 

Lando must have noticed your confusion, you weren’t doing a good job at hiding it. His usually cheeky grin was replaced with a smirk instead.

“You didn’t think I’d use all thirty seconds now, did you?” He asked. “I’ve got to ration that…make it last.”

You shook your head slowly in disbelief. Leave it to Lando to find a loophole. You thought this was how the night would end, you were certain this would be the only time you’d ever kiss him, that you’d ever allow yourself to be vulnerable with him. 

“You’re such a little shit.”

“I know,” Lando agreed, his thumb brushing over your cheek. 

He tilted your head forwards, just enough to press one last kiss to your forehead before he dropped his arms to his side. He bent down to pick up the flowers and handed them to you, all with a very obvious arrogance to him. He was proud of himself, of his cunning little plan. 

He had another ten, maybe twelve, seconds with you, to pretend that he wasn’t a driver and he wasn’t going to rush through them. 

“I think I hate you, a little,” you finally said as you pressed your key card to the lock. The light turned green and you turned the handle, giving Lando one last look. “Yeah. Definitely hate you a little bit.”

Lando didn’t buy it, of course he didn’t. You wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss you. 

“No you don’t,” Lando slowly started to back up towards the elevator. “I think you love me, actually.”

“No.”

“You could.”

“Nope.”

He shrugged, “I think, maybe-”

“Goodnight, Lando.” you finally said. Giving him one more of your signature eye rolls before stepping into your hotel room. You leaned against the back of the door after it shut and let the daisies fall to the ground. All you could do was let out the heaviest breath your lungs could muster.

You didn’t want to admit it, you wouldn’t even let yourself think about it for more than a second, but deep down you knew Lando was onto something before you cut him off. 

If you stopped creating barriers for yourself, if you let yourself be vulnerable for more than thirty seconds, maybe, just maybe, Lando might actually be someone you could fall in love with. 

And now, for an entirely new reason, one not backed by fear or panic but because of a British driver with hazel eyes and a smile that had you forgetting how to breathe, your world stopped.

part 4 here

masterlist here taglist: @moneymasnn @thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet @f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1

[katakosmos]

adding thoughts to the rosekiller tiktok au (here)

things that definitively happened:

barty saying in an interview that he'd be an amazing pornstar, and the day after one of his freaky videos got leaked on twitter. he then proceeded to share the link to anyone who asked on tiktok cause "the hacker chose the best one"

"my favorite nickname is rosie, while barty's favorite is probably slut"

the world going crazy after their first tiktok together

evan doing an ad for calvin klein and barty printing a frame of the video on a tshirt

barty making weird pictures of his and evan's wedding on photoshop, then posting them everywhere (thanks beth and eva)

Bonus for the people who have tiktok:

ehm... the smirks???

THIS IS SO BARTY

[ayyy-pee]

request!!! toji (not deadbeat dad au) processing the loss of his wife while having to take care of a child. He's dissociative and feels emotionally detached from his child cuz he reminds him too much of everything he has lost... PS. loveee your work and hope you have a lovely day!!

HELLO SWEET NONNIE!!!

I'm so incredibly late but I wrote up somethinggg. Omg I feel like Toji is just so...like I really feel like he struggled so much after that loss. I hope you like it and thank you for your sweet words!! Thank you for the request too MWAHHHHH

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

It’s all too fresh.

The memories, the shock, the pain. It’s all way too fresh.

It’s been months since she’s been gone, and yet Toji can’t seem to move forward. He’s been stuck in what feels like some horrible time loop that refuses to let him go. Everyday begins the same. There’s this strange sense of familiarity when Toji opens his eyes in the morning. A familiarity in the brief silence of the early morning, because by the time he’s up, she’d already gotten everyone settled. A familiarity in the way the bed is made on her side, because she could never start her day without that one task being done. A familiarity in the smell that still lingers on her pillow, because Toji has not washed these sheets since that day.

Since the day he lost her.

And that’s where the familiarity ends.

Because the distant cries coming from down the hall wake Toji slowly, already a difference from what he’s used to. He’s used to her being up before him, so the cries were never heard. But now it’s Toji who needs to be up, taking care to ease the cries. And he wants to. Everyday he wakes up and he thinks “Today is the day that I’ll make a change”. He’ll be better, because he promised to be better. He promised her.

Take care of Megumi for me, okay?

Her voice rings through Toji’s head, the intense sorrow crashing over him all over again, just as it does every morning when he wakes up, sporadically throughout the day, when he shuts his eyes every night. It’s paralyzing. There’s this foreign feeling in his chest – heavy, and it hurts. It’s a sensation Toji is not used to feeling. The sensation of tears. Toji cannot recall the last time he cried. Perhaps when he was a child, but he quickly learned that that was an unacceptable response. Or maybe it was when he lost her…no, he hasn’t cried in so long. He doesn’t know what that even feels like anymore. Is it the way his lip quivers, his nostrils burn or how his waterline begins to fill with tears?

These days, this sensation has been happening more and more.

He supposes the familiarity actually does continue in a way. Every night Toji promises to wake up and be a better person. And every morning, he wakes up and is reminded of what he’s lost, who he’s lost and he hides beneath his blankets to try and drown out the wailing that’s gradually growing in volume, waiting for him to do something…anything. How could he ever measure up to her? How could he ever provide the way she did? For him, for their son…

Without her, what’s the point? Toji’s life is shit, always has been. What could he give to Megumi that was worth anything?

He has nothing. Without her, he has nothing. She was the only reason it felt like this life he had built was possible. 

The screaming has become unbearable now. And Toji has no choice. As much as he wants to stay here, breathing in the scent of her and imagining her coming through their bedroom doors at any moment, he knows that it will never happen.

Take care of Megumi for me, okay?

That’s what he should do. That’s what he will do.

And so he does. He tries. He lifts his son from his bed, wipes the moisture from his round and rosy tear stained cheeks. He changes his diaper, tries to give his son words of reassurance. He tries. Tries to say what he thinks she would say, because she always knew what words Megumi needed to hear to soothe him, to remedy any pain he was in. He tries.

But he fails. Toji’s words fall on deaf ears as Megumi continues to whine even as Toji has set him up to eat. Toji tries to feed him whatever mush he has in the fridge. He can’t be bothered to try harder than this. It’s already too hard for him. Too painful because when he looks at Megumi, he only sees her…sees his mother, his wife. And he’s in enough pain as is, knowing that she’ll never come back to him. That Toji will spend the rest of his life on earth with this little person who resembles all he ever loved and will never see again. How can he look at him without wanting to crawl in a hole?

Megumi looks exactly like her. The same sweet face, the same long lashes, the same messy hair. He is a carbon copy of his mother. And it fucks Toji up in ways he didn’t know were possible.

Spoon hovering in the air as Megumi refuses to eat, Toji finds his gaze glazed over, locked on to a random spot on the dining room wall. He lets his mind take him elsewhere. Back to just a few months ago, when everything was fine. When he knew that his life had a purpose. He can see himself, see his morning beginning just as he had become accustomed to. The smell of her shampoo still lingering on her pillow, the sound of her voice floating through the air as she sings sweetly to Megumi, and the smell of whatever she had cooked up for breakfast tickling at Toji’s nose.

Life was good then. Life meant something then.

And Toji is aware that this is not right. He shouldn’t feel this way. He has Megumi. Megumi should be his everything. That should be enough for him to keep pushing forward. His son needs him, needs him to do more than what he’s barely mustering up the will to do now. Needs him to pull himself together instead of wallowing in his own self pity and grief. But what can a man do when the love of their life has been taken so unexpectedly it makes them sick?

Take care of Megumi for me, okay?

Her voice calls to him, pulling him from the depths of sorrow he’s drowning him. And it’s only then that Toji realizes he’s crying, that his cheeks are wet with fat tears. That for the first time in who knows how long, he’s letting himself feel enough to evoke such a strong emotion that he’s actually sitting here crying. And Megumi is quiet, finally. His deep blue eyes bore into Toji’s emerald ones and it hits Toji then. 

He can’t do this. He won’t be able to fake it until he makes it. That’s unfair to Megumi. He made a promise that he knows he can’t keep. It’s so obvious that he is not equipped to care for this child who quite frankly, makes him sick to his stomach to look at. Not that it’s Megumi’s fault that he looks like her. But it makes Toji’s stomach churn any time he has to face his own child.

There is no one in Toji’s life that he could depend on, call on when he’s at rock bottom besides her. Before he lost her, he would have avoided doing what he’s debating on doing at all cost. But he has to do it. So, before he can talk himself out of it, before he can stop himself from taking out his cell phone and dialing the number of the bastard he swore he’d never speak to again, Toji tells Megumi, “It’s for the best, kid”. Because while that man was a piece of shit to Toji, Megumi will mean something to him. He’ll be cared for in a manner that Toji can’t give him. 

Take care of Megumi for me, okay?

And he’s trying. But the best way for Toji to take care of Megumi is to not care for him at all.

She’d be disappointed, he thinks. But he also thinks she’d understand.

He lifts the phone to his ear, the man on the other end picking up without greeting. “Naobito…it’s me.”

[shadamyheadcanons]

This beautiful, adorable picture of Rosie was kindly drawn by @peachmangopie323! She’s the creator of the lovely Idol Amy AU series. It’s on tumblr and twitter, but if you want to read the comic from the start, I’d check out the Webtoons page. It’s a must-read for shadamy fans. And every Sonic fan, frankly. I can’t recommend it highly enough.

If you want to read about Rosie, I have a whole tag for her. Shadow first adopted her in this story.

[kandy-sticks-zaza-blogs]

Incorrect quote Redemption Motel AU

Y/N:I'm gonna go fuck your husband now.

Lilith:WHAT?! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FUCK MY HUSBAND!

Y/N:(Proceed to walk away with Lucifer)

Lilith:Y/N COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW Y/N!WTF?!

(Two overlords sitting on the barstool while getting drunk and tipsy)

Lucifer:(sighs) I miss my wife,Charlie.

Everyone:(laughs)

Lucifer:I miss her alot...I'll be back.

Y/N:WHO POSTED MY NUDES ON TWITTER.COM?!!

Vox & Velvet:(laughing)

Y/N:(looks at the picture of them that was actually posted by Valentino) OH NO...

Alastor:BITCH YOU GONNA YOUR GONNA DIE OR I'LL POPPING BETWEEN YOUR EYES!

Angel Dust:Wait I know you!I saw your dick on twitter!

Alastor:OH GODDAMMIT!

Husk: Don't touch me harlot!(Pushes Angel Dust face away)

Y/N:(Having tusk teeths issue)Can you guys stop having relationships issues while I'm on my phone with my dentist?

Vox:(Announce news TV)Do you see this?This is the diamond I am going to give to my brand-new husband and/or wife. It'll be there for the rest of time with GameCube too!So if you want-(pauses)

Angel Dust:Woah he's bisexual,I didn't know that!

Vox:By the way I'm Bisexual I forgot,I forgot to announce that-How do you turn this shit off?Wait-

Alastor: Got beaten up by Adam

Y/N & Rosie:.... Something just happened.

Y/N: (Threatening sinners)

Vox:Y/N my long lost lover it's been a-

Y/N:Hey!I told you not to bring that up anymore I'm putting the past behind me!

Y/N:You guys wanna start a polyamorous marriage?

Angel Dust:Sure.

Y/N:Well I'll be yellow!

Husk:Is this how it works?

Angel Dust:Ok.

Husk:Angel Dust your the double bottom!

Angel Dust:And I'll be the twink!

Husk:Yeah this it what I just said.

Charlie:I pronounce you Husband, Husband and Husband!

Valentino:Oh no!Mx.Kidnapper please don't hurt me!

Y/N: Don't worry I'm not gonna touch you.

Valentino:...WHY NOT?!

[rosiespokemontwitterau]

Oop. (*ﾟﾛﾟ)

[mintsuwu]

Midnight Mysteries AU Q&A!

Hello! I´ve been opening asks on Twitter recently and a bunch of people asked stuff about the AU. So I thought it would be fair to share the information here as well to keep everynyan updated! I´ll also take the chance to reply to asks that I have pending in my inbox as well.

Which Midnight Mysteries characters would be magical fellas, like "madoka magica, smile precure"?

Probably Poppy or CraftyCorn, the latter was a unicorn after all 👀

Detective Bubbaphant looks like he needs serious therapy /aff

Oh trust me, HE DEFINITELY DOES.

Every single Critter in that AU needs therapy. That´s partly the reason why Rosie (Bobby) became a psychologist /hj

Can I give Officer Kicks a hug?

Sure you can!! Don´t approach him when he´s angry though.

Do you allow OCs/Fanfics or such for your AU?

Yeah, I absolutely do and it makes me so happy that people would like my AU that much! 😭🙏💖

Does CatNap have a tragic backstory or personal goal or is he bad just for funsies? :00

He sort of has a tragic backstory, not too much, but he definitely has his motives... And even though his intentions could be sort of good, his ways are not the right ones (?

Chat, what happens if Officer Kicks is angry?

Dear user, I pray that you never encounter an angry rooster in your life because one nearly attacked me when I was little and it was... Quite the experience-

That aside though, he has an awful temper and can even get violent at times. Kickin´s character development simply hasn´t kicked in yet.

Are LoolaLamb and CatNap dating or does he just like messing with her?

They have been engaged for years. They married out of convenience and their relationship isn´t fully romantic, but CatNap actually cares about her in a way and is kind of possesive of her.

How did you come up with the Midnight Mysteries AU?

Funny enough, the idea simply came to me one day in which I was listening to the Spy X Family openings, and since my previous hyperfixation was The Great Mouse Detective my mind suddenly thought "What if I made an AU inspired on both things?" That added to the fact that I always kinda imagined Bubba as a detective and knew I had to draw it sometime.

Does CatNap just manipulate or make deals with the Sugary Scoundrels to cause trouble?

Sort of! As those two grew up in the orphanage that he runs, it´s more or less their way to repay him the favor, even though they spend most of their days out on the streets roaming around. But they are also lowkey intimidated by Catnap... Though, Bunzo has it worse with Mistress LongLegs in comparison. PD: The girls, specially CatBee, really admire Loola! And the latter is quite fond of them too.

Will the Midnight Mysteries AU have a similar story to Poppy Playtime, or does it only have the characters in common with the original source?

It will most likely have a slightly different route as PPT´s story is not done yet, but there will be events of the AU based on it! For example, The Hour Of Joy took place as well, but the motives behind it will be different.

What year does the Midnight Mysteries AU take place in?

Historically wise, it would take place around 1930-50, I don´t have an exact year but I know it would hace to end in 5 given how Poppy Playtime takes place in 2005.

What was MM Catnap´s childhood like?

I still have to think better on it, but he was a wondering performer! Perhaps specialized in acribatics.

What sort of things did Huggy and his siblings do before working for the railroad? What were their parents like, were they even around?

Their parents died when they were still yound, so Huggy had to raise his siblings by himself. They were later taken into a circus, but things weren´t very nice in there... After leaving the circus he took part on several crimes, being the brute force of the villanous gang while his siblings were unaware of their brother´s felonies. But when he took part in The Hour Of Joy, Huggy decided to change his ways from then on and did his best to leave the past behind along with his family.

What are Angel´s pronouns in the AU?

He/They!

Is Angel close or affiliated to any of the characters from the AU (DogDay for example?)

Yeah! He is allies with Poppy, Kissy and DogDay. Angel shares a parent-son relationship with the latter as they practically raised the poor dog after he had gone through a negative moment in his life.

Is CraftyCorn in the MM AU, or does she have yet to be revealed?

... She used to be(?

Is Billie actually a boy looking for his dad, or a kid playing innocent to help CatNap?

He´s mainly looking for his dad! But I love that twist ngl...

Did DogDay get that scratch from CatNap or something else?

Yes, he got it from CatNap in a fight.

Is Billy´s mom, by any chance, Mistress Long Legs? Does she know?

Yes, she does know but perhaps she wouldn´t recognize him at first as she didn´t raise him and Billie wouldn´t even know how she looks like. Darwin tried not to tell him much about her and her deeds, or at least he wanted to wait and tell him until he was old enough.

How did Darwin go missing, did Billie witness it?

He got kidnapped, and Billie did witness it. He caught sight of the kidnapper but couldn´t catch up to them when he tried to go after his dad.

What happened to Angel?

Many things...

Does Angel have the ability to die and revive in the past before they died? The Angels from the other universes are able to do that too.

No... Or at least, they haven´t tried out yet, so who knows!

"Traitor"? Did Angel used to work for the Prototype before rebelling against them?

Indeed, Angel betrayed their comrades in a very critical moment and since then they all have been searching for him... CatNap mostly. Which is why they usually remain hidden, outcasted and only keeping contact with selective people.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

May I request a rtte or post-hhtyd 2 hiccup x reader where the reader is a dragon rider who got injured somehow, made a stop at Berk, and had to stay to recover? And Hiccup takes it upon himself to make the visitor feel at home/show them around? :)) thank you

Versipellis pt 2

Pairing: Lycanwing!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Lycanwing!Reader

Words: 2,895

Hiccup makes it back to camp with you in tow. You both garner some unwanted attention.

Tags: the Hidden World, thw, httyd 3, AU, no light fury, gender neutral reader, flashback

<Previous -

It was very rare that something had a smell all of its own. Most things had mixes and balances of everything, animals especially. 

Even the smell of the earth didn’t solely belong to it. It was decidedly borrowed, usually thickest where there lay the most bugs nestled below the ground.

It wasn’t something Hiccup could always tell, more of a differentiation that only came to him sometimes.

Today, the forest smelt like nothing but earth. Earth and rain and all sorts of furs.

“So… Why are you out here so early in the morning?” You asked, your eyes decidedly trained on the floor as the two of you shambled through the woods.

A thick canopy of pine leaves rustled with the wind, cool air blowing against the face of Hiccup’s leathers. 

He couldn’t feel it much against his chest. He’d always run a bit hot and his leathers were thick, not to mention the build-up of heat in his underarms and the prickling threat of nervous sweat that threatened to break past skin. His cheeks stung though, chill picking at rosy, freckled skin with a million different, razor-thin teeth.

His knees creaked in protest, something in them pulling painfully even as he bent downwards.

“I wouldn’t call it early…” Hiccup started. He stopped for a moment before he caught your gaze and felt that he should continue, “But, well-”

He wasn’t completely sure what to say. He couldn’t- not about his leg, or his back. 

Pains weren’t the kinds of things one talked about- not in the company of anyone who wasn’t your battle buddy, not without a jug of mead, not using words belaying anything but joking.

He paused for a second, grimacing at the thin log blocking his path before forcing himself over, hand pressed hard against the bark. 

You paused for a moment too, squinting at him.

“...Aches?” You spoke just as a set of birds flew past, wings beating hollowly and fluttering against the wind and twittering and chirring to one another.

Hiccup paused, shoulders stiff. He looked back after a moment, the movement feeling jerky.

You were still behind the log, your expression just as guarded- just as weary. You spoke testily, “I’ve got some, myself.”

He relaxed some.

“They only get worse with age, don’t they?” Hiccup asked sardonically, feeling back with one hand.

Looking around, he leaned against ribbed bark, hearing it crunch against his leathers and feeling it dig into the meat of his back.

He’d… walked for a while, so there was still a while before the two of you would reach camp. Honestly, he wasn’t looking forward to it. 

He was tired.

Unfortunately for him, there was always more- there was always something pushing the limits of what he could do, and now, with everything, he found that he really couldn’t satisfy them all. He couldn’t satisfy even half, not really, and no one listened, but that wasn’t new.

He’d wanted the approval of his peers, but he’d never intended to become their figurehead.  Gobber he’d always had and his mother he’d only just gotten to know. Astrid- He loved his father, but very often, talking to him, It was as if he had found some flaw deep in his son’s make and decided that the only way to rectify it was to tell him what-for. 

The point of coming out was just as much for the purpose of getting away from everyone as it was for the purpose of finding a nice, quiet place to nurse all his wounds. Both the ones sticking at his bones and the ones that felt like they’d been born in a place much deeper, festering.

Though he was much taller and he’d filled in some, even if he was still slim and lanky, sometimes it felt as if he’d never really grown when he should have, and all the strains and pains were the angry parts of him that were just aching to burst through.

Those same parts of him twinged now, bowing slightly under the weight of grief and heartache. 

He hadn’t thought about it. Not for a while.

“They’re supposed to get better,” You said, looking down and clutching at his blanket roughly with your own hands. 

So there was some history there. Hiccup got it- all his problems had only ever gotten worse. Really, he had nothing if not history.

He needed something to hold on to.

He watched as you took one slightly-shaky step over ailing wood, his cloth catching against it as you moved forwards.

He let you go ahead, watching.

Where the cloth dipped against your back, looking more like stone than fabric, there were two sets of long gashes. What almost resembled scar tissue looked raised and raw.

“...Dragon attack?” Hiccup asked more to himself than to you.

You paused for a long moment before looking back over your shoulder with a wince, expression lax, confused. “What?”

He let out a breath.

Hiccup felt at scratchy stubble with his free hand, fingertips running over small, pimpled lumps and ingrown hairs. He didn’t flinch or cringe- he’d long grown used to the blemishes. It seemed that even as his cousin and the others grew out of their own teenage trappings, Hiccup remained somewhat stuck in the past in both body and mind.

 You followed his eyes before coming to an easy realization, speaking, “No, nothing like that.”

“Your dragon?” He asked hesitantly.

It made sense, though if you’d ever gotten a dragon- well, he still might not have known. You didn’t cross paths often, if at all.

Even after most of the raiding stopped, the dragons played rough. Still, though, the Vikings were hardy, and one or two scars and the occasional amputated limb was eternities better than the bloodlust and death from the world prior.

“Uhm,” You started, something half like a hum resonating from deep within your throat. He could have called it mesmerizing, but he was a tad biased. “...Close enough.”

“I haven’t- on the ride over, I was occupied, so I haven’t had the opportunity to… Get to know much,” You mumbled under your breath.

You’d finished the rest of your walk in silence, which wasn’t too unusual for the sort of ways things had been going for Hiccup, recently.

As you’d come closer to camp, stepping over rocks and kicking up small plants, the morning’s chill seemed to dissipate, the sun making its presence known through the forest’s leaves.

The sound of conversation had also grown louder. It was nearly a constant murmur now, offset by the occasional cheer.

“Right, well,” He started, hand pushing away the scratchy face of a long fern’s front, revealing the bulk of the open camp, but still shielding most of you from view. “There’s not much to know- there’s the outhouse by the edge of camp a ways away- no one really wanted to set up near it, for, you know, a reason, then there's where everyone’s sleeping, and there’s the table-”

Already, there were a few hastily built tables laying across the main clearing. Most Vikings had set up shop there, clearing tall weeds and grasses and chopping down trees, setting with what few belongings they had.

As Hiccup peered around, the sound of shuffling boots grew louder. This was the main part of camp, of course, so there were going to be people, which probably wasn’t very good, considering the fact that you were naked.

Hiccup paused, grimacing. “I, ah- I was wondering- do you want to go around…? Or…”

Before you could answer he felt the grip of something warm on his shoulder. It was a hand, maybe.

He watched your eyes grow slightly wider, the blanket over your shoulders dropping slightly just before he was wrenched around and pulled back under the growing light of day.

He felt a rush of- a rush of something as he was met by the sound of roaring cheers, eyes blinking rapidly against the sudden shock of bright light.

He couldn’t be sure whether the feeling was good or bad. 

He recognized it- it was the thing that had kept him going all these years, that pushed him to work and build and try again when he’d had the favor of no one and the thing that kept him going when he had, to grasp at the next Astrid’s-smile and his Father’s clap-on-the-back.

He had to ask himself if he really needed it- if he liked the feeling at all.

He jerked forwards, feeling the rough clap of a meaty palm against his back. Pain radiated from it like waves rippling on the top of a still pond.

One foot in front of the other.

“Agh, Hiccup!”

“Gobber!” Hiccup said, looking around, meeting eyes with a crooked jaw, the hand that had patted him on the back coming up to wipe a trail of mead from the corner of his jaw.

Gobber knocked his mug against the body of a tree, the liquid inside sloshing, foam meeting bark. “Where’ve ye been, lad?”

Hiccup opened his mouth to respond, but was drawn away by another calling voice.

“Hiccup!” It belonged to Astrid, her diamond-patterned leather coat blowing back with the force of her walk. She seemed… happy. 

His mother was following him close behind, looking much more reserved, expression peaceful, eyes narrowed. She probably meant to get on him about the new sanctuary, again.

Astrid called to him again, “Hiccup! Where have you been?!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gobber hobbling his way towards another large gaggle of Vikings, dead set on nosing his way into the group. He was quite obviously drunk and as such, easily distracted, head dipping like a ram ready to butt. 

Sighing deeply, Hiccup settled, the ends of forest plants tickling at his ankles, not quite in the clearing enough to have been tended to yet not close enough to the forest to be wild enough to leave be. 

“Hey Astrid…!” Hiccup tried.

Hair swinging behind her, tied up into an easy tail, she easily approached him, though the closer she got, the more cautious she became.

Of course, between them, there was something there that had never quite left. 

It was something that he’d left starved as he’d gone running off into the open skies with Toothless, seeking new lands- seeking something else, making himself scarce, even as she tracked and tried to urge him back to Berk under the orders of his father… And sometimes of her own volition.

She’d never quite found him. He’d never let her. He’d never… he’d never quite let her as close as he should have; never as close as he would have a long time ago, during what he was now able to call his youth.

From the looks of it, whatever it was seemed especially agitated now. Really, it was in times like this that he needed a buffer.

 Usually that was Toothless, but now, he was missing. He had been acting sort of odd recently- standoffish and touchy, as if he too was beginning to break under the stresses of being Chief, except he hadn’t done much, because Hiccup had been the one doing all the work, and now neither of them could escape into the skies- not with everything else tying them to Berk.

As a result, they hadn’t had each other to confide in.

With a pang of something that almost felt like loneliness and what was definitely a bit of despair, he knew that whatever they had, Hiccup felt like they were losing it.

Astrid stopped in front of him, head tilting to the side as a set of Terrors tumbled their way through the clearing. “This isn’t the time to go missing.”

Hiccup stepped back, gritting his teeth as some sharp pain traveled up his leg, “I told Gobber where I was going.”

“And I had to talk to Gobber to find out where you were! Hiccup, everyone was looking for you!” Astrid said, frowning, large axe hefted over her shoulder. The metal studs on her kransen glinted in the growing sunlight.

“I- Is there a problem? I can-” Hiccup looked back at you to where you were standing uncomfortably by the treeline. There was a staunchness to his voice, something stiff he hoped she didn’t notice. “I- hold on, can I get back to you?” 

Still, his voice didn’t carry any of the confidence he would have hoped.

He was supposed to have a presence, to enforce the law, lead, and maybe he wasn’t supposed to be exactly like his dad, but he was supposed to be something.

He resisted the urge to grimace as he felt the weight of multiple eyes fall on him, heads turning and merriment stilling as they all took notice of him.

“Son-” His mother started, before stopping, allowing Astrid to continue. She was waiting, but really, he knew that when her time came, she’d have her say of things.

His mother, now, had a way she wanted for the dragons and she really, really wouldn’t take no for an answer, nor any compromise. Deep down, he knew she was… here, but he missed her just as much as he sometimes wished she’d never come back.

“Really- No, really, I’ll get back to you” Hiccup said, cutting her off.

“You know-”

Hiccup pulled back, nodding to the beginning of the treeline.

You were not paying attention, relatively unattached to the crowds, having managed to draw some unwanted attention of your own, squabbling with a tall, blonde-looking woman, her pretty, round face framed by hefty shoulders.

Oddly enough, he appreciated it.

“-Attention-showing-” She barked. He hardly caught it, his attention wavering as words spilt from her open mouth, “-bare skin!”

“If you’re jealous, then get naked!” You easily, your tone wavering as if you’d meant it to be joking but irritated as if it had really sticken a nerve.

You curled in on yourself slightly, hands tightening over dirty cloth and pulling it higher up your shoulders.

He thought of the raised scars along your back and the way you looked under the blanket, fingers and toes digging into the sand.

He wondered if you’d seen Gothi about it, yet. She probably had some sort of ointment. 

He nodded towards you, his grimace deepening some. “I’ve... I’m busy.”

Glancing back, with the way Astrid was staring, she seemed almost... off-put. He wasn’t sure if she’d ever noticed the way he searched and bent and spun in circles whenever he thought you might have been around.

“Oh.” She said. Her voice was blank. 

His mother stood still behind her.

Hiccup reeled back slightly, wincing.

The fauna was rustling just as violently as it would during a rainstorm, the only real sound besides them that could be heard for what was probably miles. 

Miles excluding the village, way off and out of the forest, past rushing seawater and a split craig, over a bridge much larger than any Viking, but the village carried dangers of its own.

“That's for kidnapping me.” Astrid said as Hiccup eyed his dragon, who was nearly invisible in the darkness, the darkest blues and blacks in odd spotted and looped patterns playing tricks on the eye.

The large dragon snorted at him, nose twitching. It was an awfully dismissive thing, a purely animal motion, beastly but not in the violent way, even if it was a tad aggressive. 

Then Astrid grabbed him. 

It wasn’t as if anything seemed to slow- in the moment, it was really as if, for him, things seemed to grow just ever-so-slightly faster.

As Astrid -beautiful, brave, mean Astrid- grabbed his arm, her fingers closing around his shoulder tugging him closer, he saw.

The squeal of a dragon felled, the feel of meat and blood soaking his wrists and staining hard-worked machinery, to know what it felt to be a Viking- what it felt to be a man… With her, he used to crave it.

He used to want for the smell of metals, the one he carried from the forge, to mix with the metallic smell of dragons blood and the splash of ashes, the kind that often littered the ends of her hair, but now that he knew what it meant -what it really meant- to kill a dragon and to be a Viking, he found he wasn’t really all that interested anymore.

No. He thought, and didn't have the will to take it back. 

Hiccup leaned back. It was a slight thing, though the action was no less conscious for it. 

It was hardly felt, and really, in that moment, he thought she might not have noticed. He thought that she might still do... Whatever it was she meant to do after she’d punched him, looking at him with eyes of promise, past whatever thing it was they’d just loved through and through whatever trouble he’d been meant to dig himself out of grayish-blues made to look darker under the cover of night. 

But then she paused, too.

Oddly enough, though, he couldn’t find it within himself to regret.

“Well… Wow. Okay.” She said after a moment looking at him with furrowed brows.

With his shoulders squared, Hiccup felt his lips pull themselves into a confident if not apologetic grimace. Sorry.

“...Right.” Astrid said, nodding to him hesitantly, sounding slightly surprised even as she glanced back. She was already moving again by the time their eyes met. “I guess… It’s getting late. I have to go.”

Toothless was oddly silent as what had once been a good moment and a close one became slightly awkward.

“Right.” Hiccup mumbled under his breath as she ran, feeling himself as if he wanted to flee, some burgeoning embarrassment making itself known somewhere in his lower middle.

He let out a sigh of relief as she disappeared into the night, the sound of her footsteps light and fading.

[onesidedradiostatic]

Intro Post + FAQ!?!?!?

STRIPES TRUTHERS DNI!!!!!!!! (this is a joke)

I'm not replacing my pinned post because I like my pinned post. it's special to me. it describes my blog in a single gif. but I'll link this in my bio.

hi! I think this was long overdue. first of all, introduction!

I'm pink! she/her, 19, filipino-chinese, 🇸🇬

I am an asexual sapphic on the aro spectrum! I'm not repulsed in either department though, I consider myself mostly sex-neutral and romance... idk, ambivalent irl, favourable in fiction.

keep in mind that hazbin hotel itself has a lot of explicit humour, so canon-typical level of that kind of humour should be expected here. however, outside of text-only nsfw jokes, I typically don't post or reblog nsfw art (and IF I did, I would use community labels/appropriate tags). I may also tag certain text-only nsfw joke posts as #suggestive, just as a precaution.

and now the FAQ...

FAQ

Other than one-sided RadioStatic, what do you ship?

I've actually done this before, but decided I'd update it a bit.

cherrivel is only there because of the need for velvette to have someone at the hotel to be obsessed with, refer to this post. it is currently unserious and could easily never come up in my posts I just thought to include it because of that one time I brought it up. other crackships may come up if I find it funny (ie adam x mammon).

this shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone, I do not like any reciprocated romantic alastor ships, I'm not here to police anyone for what they do in fanon, but all I ask is no one send me anything of the sort. I interpret alastor as a repulsed aroace, and the dialogue in which his asexuality is implied in canon implies to me he would never pursue dating (rosie knows alastor wouldn't be dating charlie because he is aroace, which implies she knows he is an aroace that doesn't date**). so that is how I choose to portray alastor in my posts.

**TO BE CLEAR, there IS nuance to this. because action =/= attraction. funny situations such as a fake date with vox as a distraction that he doesn't like at ALL entertain me. but I do not believe he is the type to pursue it under normal circumstances.

regarding qprs... well, as you can see, I really only care for qpr radiorose, but this is the part where it comes down to personal preference. qpr radiostatic largely depends for me, maybe if it's like an au where they never had a falling out or something but otherwise, I don't personally really see it, but that isn't to judge anyone who does. HOWEVER, I do like thinking about their past friendship, here's a post I made before regarding alastor's side on it.

Who's your favourite character?

unfortunately, it is the stupid tv man in my pfp. alastor is my second favourite though if that's not immediately obvious (wow tumblr user @onesidedradiostatic's faves are vox and alastor who could've guessed?)

Do you know [insert pre-series information here]?

I need to clarify, I am NOT a pre-series hazbin fan. I only got into hazbin properly at episode 5-6's release, prior to that I had only watched episode 4 out of curiosity due to twitter discourse. any information I have regarding pre-series stuff comes from the wiki, tumblr posts or anons who have informed me of stuff. my main source of information is the main series, that is how I first consumed hazbin after all.

What the fuck is the "Lucifer's Commissions Saga"?

it all started with an anon talking about the most unrealistic thing about vox owning an alastor body pillow being that alastor was able to be printed on it without glitches. I then dropped a stupid idea I had in my head for a bit about lucifer being offered 50k to make a sexy alastor painting for vox. one reblog later. well. it turned into vox commissioning lucifer for the body pillow. and then a bunch of asks came in related to it and it turned into a saga which is now my legacy. feel free to scroll through this entire thing. also a fanfic of it by ChaoticAce2005 now exists. go check it out. AN ANIMATIC BASED ON ONE OF THE POSTS BY NATAKARANIA ALSO NOW EXISTS. CHECK THAT OUT TOO.

The original post mentions Val commissioning Lucifer for the art for Vox, Val is canonically a talented artist, why would he do that?

in my defence, I kinda forgot about that when I posted the original joke. later asks, I've mended that val HAS drawn for vox before but vox nitpicked too much and val's not always willing to do a fully rendered sexy alastor... so vox has to outsource. and he just happens to do so to the king of hell.

Hey, hey, listen! What if Vox doesn't have a crush on Alastor but wants XXX instead!?

hey, I respect you! I respect your opinion and hc. but this blog is built around that concept specifically, I like vox wanting something he can never have, wanting romance from a guy who literally cannot feel the same way about him. so I'm probably not gonna be as passionate about other takes. but your opinion is valid! I'm just not really sure what you want me to say other than respectfully disagreeing.

Why don't you use RadioSilence for one-sided RadioStatic?

radio silence is the name of another book made by the author of heartstopper, alice oseman (which I heard also has a canon aspec character!). even though it is already a used tag for this ship, I refuse to contribute to flooding the book tag with hazbin hotel. it's already an issue I see even when searching #radio silence with the space, I think those in that fandom should be allowed to search for content without being flooded by content from another fandom. please understand.

I instead use #onewaybroadcast in accordance with this poll. I still use the regular #radiostatic and #staticradio tags in addition to it for more reach and because vox's side still technically counts under it, if anyone doesn't like specifically one-sided radiostatic for whatever reason, they may filter out the specific tag or block me.

read more about the tagging issue here

Why haven't you answered my ask?

you see. once upon a time I used to answer every ask in my askbox. but then trying to come up with intelligent responses to every single ask was kind of draining so I gave up on that. so nowadays I just answer whatever I feel like, if you don't see your ask answered for a while it may still be answered later cause I do go back to old asks sometimes (and sometimes I just forget about asks I'd wanted to answer before). currently my askbox stands at 180ish unanswered asks going back to as early as end of february, that's how much I kinda just gave up trying to clear my askbox. DON'T be discouraged from sending new asks though! I'm actually more likely to answer new ones that I'm able to form a response for immediately.

Wait, I checked your time zone, why are you posting at 2-5am?

I haven't had a normal sleep schedule for like at least 4 years now, don't think too hard about it. and don't rely on my time zone for my active hours, I could be active at literally any hour 😁👍

Can I write a fic about [insert idea posted on this blog before]?

OF COURSE!!! I would actually be honoured if you did!! credit for the idea would be appreciated (although it depends if it's mostly me or my anons' ideas, sometimes it's a combined effort), but otherwise go ahead! and do send it to me if you please, if I have the time or motivation I may read it!

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

more may be added at a later time, but this is what I can come up with for now. I've been holding back on this for a while, trying to phrase every single little thing with tact, just understand that a lot of it is personal opinion!

Tags

#osrs.txt - all text posts, including asks #osrs.art - self-explanatory, art done by me #osrs.mp4 - videos which can range from compilations, shitpost edits to high effort edits #osrs.helluva - my helluva boss reactions/liveblogging and related stuff

#radiostatic parent trap subplot - the short series of asks joking about the torn picture vox has reminding them of the parent trap, turning into a crack subplot #projecting irl experiences onto radiostatic squad - where a bunch of anons came together to recount irl experiences with incels and say "yeah this is vox" #the ays - angel dust realising he and alastor are the reason for the vees' focus on the hotel and decides to brand both of them as the ays #lucifer's commissions saga - everyone's favourite as explained above, and also the biggest arc on this blog (my legacy) #alastor's modern sexuality label crisis - started with alastor misinterpreting "asexual" as asexual reproduction, continued on to him misinterpreting more modern sexuality labels #vox's stupid fucking turtleneck - it started with me trying to start up a debate on the colour of vox's turtleneck in the vox and val photo and escalated into people in my notes and askbox trying to gaslight me into thinking the turtleneck has stripes instead of it being a KNITTING PATTERN. this is what the STRIPES TRUTHERS DNI is referring to btw #cursed yellow val - tag name taken from andy-solo1, started as a response to the turtleneck discourse, I believe the turtleneck is a similar colour to val's wings therefore yellow turtleneck truthers are implying val's wings are also yellow #respectless anons - started with an anon trying to correct colour names and saying "not to be velvette..." and ended up with other anons being kin assigned characters #all the fucking parodies - there's been 2 parodies for you didn't know and 2 for respectless by others based on shit from this blog now, this tag is needed #the fanon val killjoy beef - tag made for the made up concept of valentino and katie killjoy beefing, started from this post

[ladychandraofthemoone]

Ring Around the Rosie 🌹

Have a bunch of roses 🌹 I did over the weeks, gotta do a bunch of different liveries for her in my au, mainly the trans 🏳️‍⚧️ palette and the roses 🌹 on her livery was based off of miner knight from twitter