#this is gonna be outdated in like a month a know it

[springcatalyst]

i have a disease that makes me start new projects i have 0 of the skills for and yeah. it's incurable

[roo-was-here-art]

Finally caved and made an Espen ref sheet

[anxiously-awaiting]

mmm getting that stupid figure i want would be so much easier if i had a reliable way to make that money backlfdsf

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

yeehaw

how spencer convinces reader to stay in rather than go out

MDNI | suggestive fluff!

word count: 1217

warnings & tags & stuff: fem!reader, def some nsfw descriptions of spence, all around suggestiveness, fade to black

author's note: second piece of writing yayy!!! this was originally gonna be smut but i got scared lol. anyway please lemme know your thoughts im DYING to improve. sooo yes i hope you have a wonderful day and here this is ig! 😚

Sitting alone in your room, you tugged on a pair of never-before worn cowboy boots. They were most definitely not broken in, and you knew you were in for an uncomfortable night of baby blisters on the bottoms of your feet. However, life is full of compromises, and these were too cute to pass on.

Especially for a night of line dancing with your boyfriend’s coworkers. Who knew that FBI agents got down like that?

You stand and plug in your earbuds, choosing to absolutely blast ‘Fearless (Taylor’s Version)’ by Taylor Swift. Also known as the only tolerable country music.

Dancing out to the kitchen, you wrap your arms around your lovely boyfriend who was preparing a cup of tea, absolutely not dressed for a night of country conviviality. Spencer looks you up and down, a teasing smile playing on his face.

“Hey cowgirl,” he says, gently removing your earbuds. “Penelope has been texting me on average every 10 minutes about how excited she is for tonight. I hope you’re ready.”

“Oh god,” you laugh. “I wish you were coming too.”

“I know. But that sounds awful,” he says in his matter-of-fact way. “Hey, I do have something for you,” he mentions. You look up at him, and he runs quickly upstairs to grab his bag. He comes down and brandishes his very own cowboy hat. “From the times Penelope didn’t have you to drag along with her and I was her chosen victim.”

“For me?” You ask excitedly. He puts it on you. Although it’s a little big, it 100% completes the look. You look up at him. “Think I would make a good cowgirl?” He peers down at you, trying to tell if you’re joking.

“No,” He goes the serious route and you furrow your brow at him. “You hate the dirt. And the heat,” he explains, emphatically defending himself.

“I guess you’re right. I don’t really do well with horses either,” you murmur.

“You do make a cute cowgirl for the night though, even if it’s not your true calling.” He ruffles your hat.

“Yeah?” You smile. “It’s not too much with both the boots and the hat?”

Spencer blinks.

“Have you met Penelope? She always has a lot going on. More than this.”

You giggle.

“They’ll all adore you, JJ, Emily,” he reassures, stroking the side of your waist.

You had known Penelope for a few months, ever since you started dating Spencer. But you had yet to meet the rest of the girls on his team. You were definitely excited, they seemed really cool. But you were definitely also nervous.

Spencer, jarring you from your thoughts, whips out his very outdated phone that he somehow still manages to operate, and opens the camera.

“Smile.” You do so, showing off all your teeth. You move to look at the picture, and Spencer tilts the screen toward you. “See? Adorable.”

You stand on your tippy toes for a kiss, and he complies quickly. A little too quickly to not have any meaning behind it. Your eyes flit down, and you notice a slight bulge in Spencer’s pants that wasn’t there a few minutes ago.

You raised your eyebrows and looked up at him. “Can I convince you to stay?” He whispers, half smiling. You tilt your head.

“Maybe” you say shyly.

“What if I told you that the chances are slim to none that you are actually going to line dance tonight? Penelope and JJ always end up sitting at the bar, and Emily always gives up half a song in and joins them. Without fail,” he says. You purse your lips, heart beating a little faster for whatever reason.

“That could still be fun,” you reason.

“Not in those shoes,” he says, rubbing your hip softly. “I know they must hurt; they’re brand new and you’re already shifting your weight between your feet much too frequently.”

You look down at your feet. He was not lying. “You’re too observant. This is why you basically always have your way with me.” You exhale.

“By caring about you? I could keep going. I know that you hate country music. And no, Taylor Swift does not count. She’s an outlier. And she was born in Pennsylvania. That’s barely real country music. You’d be miserable all night.”

“Yes, you would know about ‘real’ country music, Mr. Las Vegas,” you counter.

“That would be Dr. Vegas to you,” he quips, bending down once again and giving you a kiss. You reciprocate, kissing the corner of his mouth. “What if I told you I really wanted you to stay? Bad?”

“Bad? I guess I’ll stay, if it’s bad. But you have to be the one to text Penelope,” you say begrudgingly. As if you weren’t as releived as can be. And as if Spencer didn’t know that.

He smiles and allows his arms to wrap around your waist. Spencer’s kisses become slower, you could feel every aspect of them. His lips, of course, but also his stubble. The air being pushed out of his nose. The hand swiping it’s typical resting spot, your cheek. His tongue delicately tracing your mouth. It all feels so calculated for you, so measured.

And you, on the other hand, are a mess, trying to keep up. Your heart is pounding and you’re sure your face is noticeably hot. And by the time Spencer leads you to your room and sits you down on the bed, its temperature has only increased.

You kick off your boots. He sits next to you, his hands holding your waist, ever so firm. He brings them up, thumbing the inside hem of your tank top.

“All good?” He checks.

“Yeah,” you say, head spinning with all the good chemicals.

“Deep breaths for me, okay? Gotta keep your blood flowing appropriately,” he reminds you, leaning back and taking you in. “Pretty girl.” You blush and his hands move to your lower back over your tank top, delicately brushing over in a way that gives you goose bumps. You shiver.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You’re sensitive in your lower back. God, there’s still so much more to learn about you.” He breathes out.

“Good. I was scared you’d get bored, with your perfect memory and all,” you joke.

“Bored? The human brain is limitless. Your brain is limitless. I wanna know everything I possibly can that goes on up there. Everything that makes it feel good. It’s the least boring thing I can think of.” You blush and look down.

You lean in for another kiss, this time to his jawline and neck. Your hands slide up his stomach under his shirt a little and and you look up to him.

“Okay?” This time you ask.

Spencer nods. “Okay.” Your hands trace up under his own shirt, and you immediately lean in to kiss him, holding his chin.

All of a sudden he’s everywhere. Even sitting next to you, he manages to take over every ounce of your body. He’s kissing your mouth and forehead and cheeks, one hand is holding your face, and the other is mapping your stomach.

“Can we try something new then? If we wanna do and learn everything?” You whisper. One quick tête-à-tête later, you’re sitting on his lap, shifting your hips softly as he held your waist for you.

“I guess I was wrong. You’re gonna be an amazing cowgirl.”

[hanasnx]

WITHHOLDING SEX — logan howlett.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: unfinished wip that im never gonna finish. WARNINGS: unfinished wip ノ fem reader ノ stripper reader ノ age gap ノ established relationship ノ size difference ノ logan gets smacked for saying some dumb shit ノ degradation ノ outdated and lame anti-sex work rhetoric ノ toxic behavior

“You’re such a jerk, Logan.” you used to say, a little giggle to your voice as you scoldingly pat LOGAN HOWLETT’s broad chest, letting him back you into a dark corner at your club and buy a personal dance. He’d wave that fat wad of cash in front of your nose with that knowing look you’d come to crave, and you’d flirtingly comply. You’d even let him get cheeky with it, copping a feel up your thigh while in the privacy of a backroom. Just so you’d bat his callused hand away with a toying, “Ah-ah!” And he’d tilt his big head at you and push out his hips while you finished up your dance.

Months of playing with one another, led to his impatience getting the better of him. Late at night, asking you—a stripper—what you were doing later. He’s got this way about him that you watch so carefully. All he had to do was stare at you through those furrowed brows and jut his chin when he popped the question, and you obediently blurted out, “Maybe if you’re lucky: you.”

Much to your surprise, it wasn’t some one night stand. Booty calls turned to dates, turned to moving in together, turned to partnership. Not that you believe yourself to be a challenge, but you’ve never met a guy that could seduce you at your job, and you certainly never expected to shack up with him. Logan made it easy at first, always forward with you, putting up with your “diva attitude” as he likes to call it, driving you to and from work because he doesn’t trust the clients that hang out around the building when girls are just trying to get home. You fell hard, and you fell fast.

But lately, things have been different. Logan’s always been bull-headed—and a bit of a pig—but it never seemed to be as big of a problem as it is now. As much as you can love those traits of his, they get in the way of communication, and your own spite and stubbornness doesn’t soothe anything. You fight more than ever, you argue more than you have actual conversations. If you’re not fighting, you’re not talking, and he’s sleeping on the couch. Butting heads is not new, but now they’re not as easily solved without the shade of rose-colored glasses.

“Nah, baby, ‘cause a stripper like you was easy.” The prideful and malicious words struck you right to your core, whirling around to face Logan who’d been hounding after you. It’s written all over his firm countenance, he said it to hurt you, and he knew it succeeded—from the very first petname spat so facetiously. Your hand flies before you realize what’s happening, whipping across his cheek so hard it resounds throughout the room. It was a stupid move, ache pulsing hot through your palm from the contact, and chances are it’s worse for you than him.

Your voice burns from this latest yelling match, and you exacerbate it. “You’re such a jerk, Logan!” The dumbfounded part in his lips close as he pivots his spun head to meet your gaze. You’re not gonna sit here and entertain this any longer, you’re gonna be late for work, so you round his wide frame to hurry to the door. “Let’s see how easy you think I am.” you challenge, throwing open the door, “Good luck getting off without me.” you spit at him before slamming the door after you.

“That’s it, I’m so done with him—for real this time.” you claim, yapping the ear off your coworker at the lockers while you two get dressed.

“Oh, yeah, right.” she replies with a roll of her eyes, zipping up her boot. “Next week y’all are gonna be back together, attached at the fuckin’ hip. Who’re you kidding?” She stamps her foot down, and gives herself last looks in the vanity mirror, teasing her hair with her hands.

You throw down your needle and floss, halting your sew of a hole in your costume. “Shut up, it’s not like that!” you whine, annoyed by her prediction—more or less accurate.

She snickers. “See you out there.” she tells you, effectively dismissing the conversation as she makes her way out onto the floor. Somehow, her reaction only fans the flames of your spiteful commitment…. but even though the hurt is still fresh, you miss him.

It’s frigid in the AM, hugging your jacket close as you watch your breath steam in front of your face. The bouncer didn’t think to watch your walk to the car this time, knowing that your boyfriend usually picks you up. You forgot to tell him otherwise, but it’s not a big deal—until you remember you took your car this time and the heater is broken. You’ve taken three steps out the door and you’re already shivering, what are you gonna do when your brittle fingers can’t grip the wheel?

“Hey.” a rough and familiar voice breaks you out of your internal debacle, facing the noise promptly. Logan wearing his usual scowl and puffy vest—somehow he looks good. The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up to reveal the cords of his forearms crossed across his chest, tailbone leaned against his truck. “C’mon.” He tilts his head in the direction of his vehicle. In one small second, you’re endeared by his gesture, he knew you were gonna be cold and a little unsafe—even through being angry he’d do this for you. In the next second, the warm feeling is quickly crushed under the weight of knowing Logan. This isn’t some knight-in-shining-armor moment. This is his apology.

You stick your frozen nose in the air, “No, thanks.” you respond. There’s no way you’re going to let him off the hook that easily. Back on your path to your car, you huddle into yourself to converse heat, but you still hear footsteps on gravel behind you.

“Don’t be like that, princess, I know you’re freezing.” he says. He only calls you that when you’re being especially prissy. “I know you didn’t mean what you said back there, so let’s just go home and I’ll hook and tow your car in the morning.” The impending presence of a palm against your upper arm alerts you and you flinch out of the way.

“I’m not getting into the truck with you, Logan, I’m mad at you.” you hiss. Your persistence is annoying, and if you were less wrathful Logan might’ve thrown you over his shoulder by this point. Something tells him this isn’t like other times.

His hand lingers in the air aside your sleeve, but draws back when he straightens to his full height behind you. “So you’d rather catch fuckin’ pneumonia than be within three feet of me?” his disbelief is deduced clearly in his tone, conveying how stupid he thinks you’re being.

So you double down, shrugging indifferently as you cross your arms over your chest. “If that’s what it comes down to.”

“Jesus, you’re a stubborn bitch.”

You round on him. “Logan!”

He inclines in your space, raising his voice as he gestures in front of him, organizing his verbal thoughts, “First, you tell me some bullshit about no pussy, and now you don’t even wanna be near me—“

You’re incredulous, matching his energy as you lift onto the tips of your toes to compete with him. “—Why would I wanna go anywhere with you when you’re being the biggest asshole—“

“—and it’s not like you can keep up with that shit. You’ll last a day- and that’s generous—!”

“—A day? You think I’ll last a day—?” You have the urge to laugh, a dry hollow sound.

“Face it, you can’t go a night without me.”

Obviously, you’re not getting anywhere and you’re tired. Defeated, you shake your head and turn on your heel. You’re beyond cold, and you say loud enough for him to hear, “Get outta here, Logan, I don’t wanna see you when I get home.”

He shift his weight to one hip, raising his arms out at his sides in a questioning pose. “Oh, and where am I supposed to go? Huh? Where am I supposed to go?” he interrogates after your retreating form, angry at your reaction, at the fact you’re walking away from him, the idea he’s not going to be in a warm bed with a warm body to comfort him to sleep tonight.

It’s his own fault. “I don’t care where you go! I’m not letting you in.” you reply with a shake of your head.

[mariclerc]

Student's secret | cl16

Summary: what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas... or in a pole dance club.

Warnings: mental health issues, toxic work environment, mentions of drugs and sex, uni student reader, denigrating comments, angst and a little fluff at the end.

Living or spending a few days in the city of sin is a dream come true for many people, it is the place where everything is possible, where anything can happen: Luxuries and eccentricities are the order of the day throughout the year and rules and formalities are something banal and outdated for many.

For you it is like being in a cage, many people are forced to lead a double life, one where during the day they do their routine things but at night they try to do something to survive... Just like your case... Being a uni student, it is a bit difficult to bear the expenses of tutors, food, clothes, rent and other things, especially being exposed to the city of luxuries at such a young age, most of the time you find it difficult to make ends meet, so you decided to look for a job during the holidays to, at least, have enough money to make it to the end of the year without any problems... But you didn't think that what started as a temporary job would become a permanent job.

That's why you find yourself touching up your makeup backstage at a pole dance club, this has been your night life for 4 months straight, today is different because you have to work an extra day due to a special show.

Lila, your boss, enters backstage, drawing everyone's attention. “Listen up ladies, tonight we will have a special show because the F1 action in Las Vegas starts on Wednesday, so we will only be open today - Tuesday night, and tomorrow.” she said with a cocky smile on her face. “Plus we have some special people in the audience tonight, so get your shit together or else... You'll be dealing with me.” she said.

Most of the time when there is a big event that paralyzes the city you work only 3 days and the other days you use to rest, but this is enough because you assume from what Lila says, that the drivers will be making an appearance at the club tonight. Plus your shift is only supposed to be Thursday through Sunday, not Tuesday.

You sighed. “I don't want to do this Lila...” you say softly.

She stops and turns her gaze to you. “What do you mean? You know you have a contract, right?” she spats.

“But this is not my shift and I feel too uncomfortable and exposed.” you say. “This was supposed to be a summer-only job, and...” you were going to continue but she interrupted you.

“But anyway, you signed the contract and besides, you need money for your stupid shit, right?” she said and you blinked multiple times. “So you're gonna put on a good show tonight or else I'll make you spend the night with one of the patrons, was it clear to you?”

The patrons are the ones who keep the club afloat, they invest a lot of money in you and in drinks, drugs and so on. In the few months you've been there you've witnessed some pretty... nasty stuff, drugged up coworkers forced to have sex with one of these guys so they can give them some extra money. Luckily for you, you haven't been forced to do anything similar, you just dance and do the occasional VIP service, extra tip and that's it, but seeing the consequences of not wanting to work today, you have to put up with it.

“Okay miss...” you murmured shyly.

Lila smiled. “Everyone, be ready for our customers tonight.” she said and continued walking, you sighed.

You take a deep breath, wiping away a tear that came out of your eyes, smudging lightly your mascara, before stepping into the spotlight. You and your other companions go out on stage, you notice how the patrons are sitting up front with their drinks and cigarettes, as usual, but you notice new faces; most of the drivers are sitting in the VIP booth, each one sitting alone or with his colleagues. The music starts, and you begin your routine, trying to mask your emotions with your performance. As you dance, you catch glimpses of a driver who's watching you intently, his expression shifting from amusement to concern.

After finishing your routine, you watch as your boss motions for you to go the VIP booth number 16, you walk over there, your heart pounding in your chest. The driver is smiling, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes.

He's smiles gently. “Hey there, that was an incredible performance up there.” he says softly.

“Thanks, I... I appreciate it.” you say while forcing a smile.

You notice the way he studies you, his gaze lingering on the redness in your eyes and the light smudge under it. He hesitates for a moment before speaking again... “Are you okay? You seem… a bit upset.” he asks you softly.

You sighed. “It’s just been a long night... Nothing to worry about.” you whispered as you lied.

He nodded. “I can imagine, this place looks so intense.”

You look around the club, feeling the weight of the atmosphere pressing down on you.

“It can be... Overwhelming at times.” you say quietly.

The music shifts to a slower tempo, creating a more intimate atmosphere around your conversation. You stand before Charles and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Charles watches you with a mix of excitement, care and curiosity, his coloured eyes sparkling under the dim lights.

He smiles gently. “So, what do you say, little star? Just a little private dance to lighten the mood?” he says softly while calling you by your stage name.

“I mean... If that's what you want...” you say a little hesitant.

He nods reassuringly. “Trust me, it’ll be fun... Just be yourself.”

You feel a rush of adrenaline at his words. You’ve performed many times before, you've even done private dances several times with not so nice customers, but this feels different—more personal and somewhat intimate. You nod slowly, trying to shake off your nerves.

“Okay... I'll do it.” you say softly.

Charles grins, and you can see the excitement in his eyes. You step back slightly to create some space, allowing yourself to get into the right headspace... The music shifts to a sultry tune, and you begin to move to the rhythm.

As you dance, you focus on Charles, letting the music guide your movements. You sway your hips and let your body flow with the beat, feeling the tension ease away with each step. Charles leans back against the plush booth, watching you intently.

“You're incredible...” he whispers.

His words send a thrill through you, and you find yourself getting lost in the moment... You let go of any lingering doubts and worries and you just embrace the performance. You glide closer to him, allowing your body to move in sync with his gaze.

You continue your dance, incorporating playful movements that make him laugh and smile. The connection between you feels electric, and you find yourself enjoying this more than you anticipated.

“How's this for a private dance?” you asked him playfully, using your confident facade.

He grins. “It's perfect... More than I expected...”

You lock eyes with him, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away. The laughter and chatter from other tables become a distant hum as you focus solely on him. As you move closer again, you notice how he leans forward, captivated by your performance. You playfully run your fingers along his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. You continue dancing, letting your body express what words cannot. You swirl around him, feeling free and alive as you lose yourself in the rhythm. The music pulses through your veins, and you can see the admiration in Charles' eyes as he watches you.

“You're amazing... This is better than I imagined.” he says with a low voice.

You smile at his compliment, feeling a rush of confidence surge through you, customers rarely compliment you or the girls. You step closer again, brushing against him as you dance, feeling the warmth radiating from his body.

As the last notes of the song fade away, you take a deep breath and step back, allowing yourself to bask in the moment.

He clapped softly to you. “That was incredible! You really know how to put on a show.”

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. The energy between you is palpable as he leans forward slightly.

“I think that deserves a special tip...” he says while grinning. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crisp stack of bills, holding them up with a playful glint in his eye. “What do you think? Is this enough? Or do you need more than that?” he says softly.

Your heart races as he counts out a hefty amount of cash that was wrapped in a paper before handing it to you with an appreciative smile. You wouldn't believe it, it was a big tip.

“Wow! Are... Are you serious?” you said surprised. “I can't take it, I'm...” you were about to say but he gently stopped you.

He smiled. “Don't say that, you deserve it! You deserve every bit of it for that amazing performance.”

You take the money from him, feeling a mix of gratitude and disbelief. It’s more than you expected for just one dance. “Tha... Thank you so much! This really means a lot to me.” you say softly.

“You earned it. And I hope this helps with whatever you're working towards.” He said sweetly and that made you stop.

“How... How do you know that...” you said in a low voice.

He looked around the club and then looked at you before slowly approaching you.

“There's no need to say anything, little star... Your gaze, those lost little eyes told me everything I need to know.” he said softly in a whisper. “Sometimes a look is enough to know a little bit about a person.” he said softly and you were shocked, you never thought that an F1 driver would be so empathetic and deeper.

“Wow, that was... Yeah...” you murmured. “Thank you again...” you say and pause, you still don't know his name.

“Oh, I'm Charles Leclerc.” he said formally. “But just call me Charles.” he smiled.

“Y/n” You answered him by giving him your name. You were going to tell him something else, but the bell indicating that you and the girls had to go backstage ruined the moment.

He smiled. “Well, I think they need you in there.” he said softly. “I really enjoyed this evening, the dancing was spectacular.” he said and you blushed.

“Y/n! Get your fucking slutty ass here!” your boss yelled harshly and you shook your head.

“I have to go, but thanks again Charles.” you said softly.

“It was nothing. Take care y/n, I hope to see you soon.” he said softly and you walked backstage.

As you entered your small dressing room you looked at the amount of money Charles had given you and a tear ran down your cheeks. You had never received such good treatment from a customer, the warmth and security of his person contrasting with the coldness and toxicity of the place. You sighed and put the money in your briefcase, thankful that someone had noticed your tearful gaze despite not saying anything about the anxiety and fear that constantly fill your life.

***

The weeks following your encounter with Charles unfold in a blur of routine and reflection. You find yourself back in the familiar rhythm of your daily life, but the vibrant energy of that night lingers in your mind like a bittersweet memory. The club’s atmosphere has shifted, and the pressures of your job weigh heavily on you.

You're sitting on your bed, surrounded by textbooks and notes from your psychology classes. The sunlight filters through the window, but it feels dimmer than usual, you flip through your notes absentmindedly, thoughts drifting back to that night.

“It was just one night… why can’t I stop thinking about it?” you say to yourself, while flipping through your notebook.

You recall Charles’s laughter, the way he looked at you with genuine interest and care, and the way he made you feel seen. But as days turn into weeks, that memory becomes a painful reminder of what you’re missing in your life.

You shake your head, trying to focus on your studies. But the thoughts keep creeping back in—what if you had exchanged numbers? What if you opened up to him and told him what you were going through at that very moment it didn't matter if he was a complete stranger? The “what ifs” swirl around like a storm in your mind... You couldn't fall in love with a stranger, much less an F1 driver, you're not supposed to let anyone into your life.

A few nights later, you’re back at work, but the energy feels different. The once vibrant atmosphere has turned toxic—patrons are more aggressive, and the laughter that used to fill the air is replaced with tension and judgment.

You stand behind the bar, pouring drinks for a group of rowdy customers who seem to take pleasure in belittling the staff. You try to brush off their nasty comments, but each jab feels like a weight added to your already heavy heart.

One of the customers spoke. “Hey you, why don’t you dance for us? We paid good money for this place! You little bratty bitch.” he said in a slurring way.

You force a smile, but inside, you feel a surge of anxiety, you want to disappear. The memory of Charles’s encouragement clashes with the reality of your current situation. You glance around, noticing how other staff members are also feeling the pressure from the patrons, they're demanding lately.

“May... Maybe later! Right now, let me get you another round of drinks.” you say while you attempt to light the mood.

As you turn away, you catch a glimpse of a co-worker, Sarah, who looks equally drained. She gives you a sympathetic nod, and you can tell she’s feeling the strain too. It is causing a lot of damage to all the girls, especially mentally, you have already seen several of them taking drugs in the bathrooms and backstage.

Sarah approaches you. “It’s getting worse here girl… I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” she says quietly while taking a cigarette out of her pocket.

You sigh, knowing exactly what she means. The club that once felt like an escape is now suffocating. Every night drags on, filled with rude customers and an overwhelming sense of dread. Your mental health begins to deteriorate as the pressure mounts.

Days turn into weeks, and you find yourself dealing with the weight of your job and studies because it feels unbearable. You spend more nights lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling as thoughts spiral out of control. Obviously, in the midst of all the chaos, you became a bit of a F1 fan, especially keeping an eye on the green-eyed boy who had been so nice to you that night at the club, somehow, even though he was a complete stranger to you at the time, you felt so happy to see him shine in what he likes — something you wish would happen to you too.

One particularly rough night at work, a big fight breaks out between two patrons. The chaos erupts around you as glasses shatter and voices rise in anger, you feel frozen in place, overwhelmed by your anxiety and nerves.

Weeks pass, and the club continues to drain you. But you find solace in small moments—watching sunsets, reading books—but they’re fleeting against the backdrop of your reality. Your mental health spirals further as feelings of isolation creep in.

Tears well up in your eyes as frustration boils over. You wipe them away angrily, feeling trapped between the joy of the memory shared that night with Charles and the pain of your current life. And it shouldn't be affecting you so much, he was just a costumer...

***

The atmosphere is electric as the club transforms for the Christmas season, twinkling lights adorn the bar, and festive decorations create a warm ambiance amidst the usual chaos. You stand in the backstage, heart racing, preparing for one last performance before your well deserved break from the club and your classes. The familiar sounds of laughter and chatter filter through the curtains, but today, they feel different.

You are in the backstage, pacing nervously as you go over your routine in your mind. The stage is set, and the crowd buzzes with excitement. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

You take a deep breath. “Just one last performance… You can do this.” you say in a whisper to you.

As the music starts and the spotlight shines on you, you step onto the stage. The audience erupts in applause, but your eyes scan the crowd anxiously. You catch glimpses of familiar faces—some co-workers, and regular patrons, nothing new—but then your heart skips a beat. There he is—Charles, standing near the front, his smile bright against the dim lighting.

Your breath hitches in your throat as a flood of emotions washes over you. Memories of that night come rushing back—the laughter, the slight connection, the promise of something more. But doubt creeps in, and you feel a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach...

“Why is he here? Is this just a fleeting visit? Or is it for something else?” you think, you can't help but wonder that.

You force yourself to focus on the performance, pouring your heart into every movement. As you dance, you try to ignore the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind... But each time you glance at Charles, you feel an overwhelming mix of hope and fear.

The performance reaches its climax, and the crowd cheers enthusiastically. You finish with a flourish, feeling a rush of adrenaline as you take your final bow. The applause reverberates in your ears, but your gaze remains fixed on Charles.

As you step offstage, adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you navigate through the backstage area toward the bar. You can feel Charles’s presence behind you, and a mix of excitement and dread builds within you.

“Whoa! That was incredible! I’ve missed seeing you perform, little star.” he says as he approaches you with a smile on his face.

His voice sends a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you’re speechless. You take a moment to absorb his presence—his familiar warmth, his genuine admiration.

“Tha... Thanks... It's been a while since I felt that good on stage.” you say shyly.

You glance around nervously as other staff members and Sarah pass by, some offering nods of recognition to Charles. You can’t help but feel exposed under their scrutiny.

“Do you want to talk somewhere quieter?” he says softly while noticing your discomfort.

You hesitate for a bit. “Yeah... I guess that would be nice.”

You lead him to a small break room at the back of the club—a space filled with mismatched furniture and remnants of holiday treats. The atmosphere feels intimate compared to the bustling club outside.

Once inside, the door closes behind you, muffling the noise from the main area. You lean against the counter, arms crossed defensively as you try to gauge his intentions.

“So, ehm... What brings you back to Vegas? I thought you were busy with racing and all that stuff...” you asked him cautiously.

“Yeah, well, I was busy... but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to see how you’re doing—like, really doing.” he sighed and smiled at you.

His sincerity strikes a chord within you, but doubt still lingers. You remember how hard it is to open up before and how vulnerable it made you feel.

“Well... Things have been tough lately… work has been overwhelming...” you say while biting your lip.

Suddenly everything you have experienced in the last few months comes to your head, the humiliation, the mockery, the objectification, anxiety, the sacrifices you make to make ends meet and have enough money for everything you need and, without expecting it, your eyes fill with tears. A part of you longs for validation and support, but another part fears being let down again.

“Oh, don't cry little star, it's okay...” he says while he holds you in his arms and caresses your hair. “It's so okay, let it out.”

You sniffled. “It’s just that… I don’t know if I can trust anyone right now... Everything feels so chaotic; my life feels so chaotic and messier.”

Charles looks down at you, his expression earnest and understanding. “I get that... Trust takes time, but I’m here for you if you want to talk about it, I want to help.” he wipes a tear form your cheek.

You feel a flicker of hope ignite within you at his words. The vulnerability in his voice reminds you of that connection you shared—the one that felt so real yet so distant now.

“It’s hard for me to open up…” you say in a whisper.

“You don’t have to share everything all at once with me. Just know that I’m here to listen whenever you're ready, okay?” he says softly.

His patience reassures you, but fear still grips your heart. You remember how easily things can change—how quickly trust can be broken.

“I’ve been feeling lost… like I’m stuck in this cycle that I can’t escape.” you say while looking down.

He nodded. “And it’s so okay to feel that way, we all go through rough patches. What matters is that we can still find a way out... together.” he smiles at you.

You meet his gaze again, searching for sincerity in his eyes. There’s no judgment there—only care, understanding and compassion... Something you've been needing to find for a long time and now a stranger is giving it to you.

***

As the days rolled on, the festive spirit of Las Vegas enveloped you both. The city transformed into a dazzling wonderland, with sparkling lights adorning every corner and the joyous sounds of holiday celebrations filling the air. You and Charles made the most of your time together, exploring the vibrant culture and indulging in the culinary delights that the city had to offer.

On Christmas Eve, you found yourselves in a cozy café nestled within one of the extravagant hotels. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of baked goods, creating an inviting atmosphere. You sat across from each other, warm mugs cradled in your hands, and the soft glow of fairy lights twinkling around you.

As you sipped your drink, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort in his presence... Charles had a way of making everything feel lighter, as if the burdens you carried were shared between you. But there was still a part of you that hesitated to delve deeper into your past, to reveal the struggles that lay beneath your cheerful façade.

“So, do you have any special traditions for Christmas?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You smiled softly, feeling a pang of nostalgia. “Ehm... Not really, to be honest.” you admitted, looking down at your mug. “My family doesn’t celebrate much anymore... It’s just… complicated.”

He leaned in slightly, his expression encouraging. “Complicated how? If I may know.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, my family never really supported my choice to study psychology.” you began hesitantly. “They always thought it was a waste of time, they wanted me to pursue something more… practical.”

Charles nodded, his face reflecting understanding. “That must have been hard for you.” he said gently.

“It was.” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve always wanted to help people, to understand their emotions and struggles. But when the people closest to you don’t believe in your dreams… it’s hard not to feel like you’re on the wrong path.” you say softly.

He reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours in a reassuring gesture. “You’re not on the wrong path, little star. You’re doing something incredibly important.”

You appreciated his support, but the doubt still lingered in your mind. “It’s just… I didn’t have their financial support either.” you confessed, feeling vulnerable. “I’ve had to work multiple jobs to pay for school, including the job at the pole dance club... It’s so exhausting.”

Charles listened intently, his brow furrowing slightly as he absorbed your words. “That sounds really tough, I can’t imagine how isolating that must feel.”

You nodded, grateful for his empathy. “It is isolating.” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve lost touch with friends who didn’t understand my commitment to my studies. It’s like I’m in this bubble where no one else really gets what I’m going through.”

He squeezed your hand gently, grounding you in that moment. “You’re not alone now.” he reassured you. “I’m here for you, and I want to understand what you’re experiencing.”

His sincerity washed over you like a warm wave, encouraging you to share more.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in this cycle of loneliness.” you confessed, tears welling up in your eyes. “I want to connect with others, but it’s hard when I feel so different from everyone else.”

Charles leaned closer, his voice soft and steady. “You’re not different in a bad way; you’re pursuing something meaningful. And those who truly care about you will see that...”

You looked into his eyes, searching for reassurance. “Do you really think so?”

“I know so.” he replied firmly. “You have so much passion and drive. That’s something to be proud of.”

As the conversation continued, you found yourself opening up more than you had anticipated. You shared stories of late nights spent studying, the moments of self-doubt that crept in during exams, and the fleeting joy of helping others during your internships.

His belief in you sparked something deep within—a flicker of hope that perhaps you weren’t as alone as you had felt for so long... The more you talked, the more liberated you felt from the weight of isolation that had clung to you for years.

***

The week leading up to New Year’s was always a time of reflection, a time when the world seemed to pause and take stock of the year gone by. The air was crisp, and the city sparkled with festive lights, but inside your cozy apartment, it was just the two of you—Charles and you—wrapped in a bubble of warmth and anticipation.

You had decided to spend the week together, a decision that felt both thrilling and terrifying. You could feel the chemistry bubbling between you—an electric charge that seemed to hum in the air whenever he was near, but with that chemistry came the fear of what it would mean if you let yourself fall for him.

As the sun began to set on the last day of the year, you and Charles found yourselves sprawled on the couch, surrounded by snacks and half-watched Christmas movies. The soft glow of fairy lights twinkled around the room, creating an intimate atmosphere that made your heart race, you glanced sideways at him, his profile illuminated by the flickering light from the TV. He looked so relaxed, his hair slightly tousled and a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he focused on the screen.

“Do you ever think about New Year’s resolutions?” Charles asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You turned your head to look at him fully. “Sometimes.” you admitted. “But I’m not very good at keeping them.” you giggled.

He chuckled softly. “Same here, I usually start strong, but by February, I’ve forgotten all about them.”

“What do you think this year’s should be?” you asked playfully, trying to keep the conversation light.

He pondered for a moment, his brow furrowing adorably. “Maybe something like… be more spontaneous? Or try to embrace change?”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Embrace change? That sounds deep!”

“Yeah, well.” he said with a shrug. “I think it’s important to be open to new experiences, you never know what could happen.”

His words struck a chord within you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was hinting at something more—something between the two of you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

“What about you?” he asked, turning the question back to you. “What do you want for this coming year?”

You hesitated, your heart racing as you considered your answer. Part of you wanted to say something lighthearted, but another part yearned for honesty.

“I guess… I want to be braver.” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Braver?” he echoed, his gaze intense as he studied your face. “In what way?”

You swallowed hard, feeling exposed under his scrutiny. “In life… in love.” you admitted, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve always been scared of getting hurt, so I hold back.”

He nodded slowly, understanding washing over his features. “That makes sense.” he said softly. “It’s hard to let someone in when you’re afraid of what might happen.”

You felt a connection deepen between you in that moment—a shared understanding of vulnerability that made your heart ache with longing.

“Exactly.” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “But I think… maybe I want to try.”

Charles’s expression softened as he leaned closer to you, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken. “Try what?” he asked gently.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your words hang in the air between you. “Try to let myself feel more… to let someone in.” Your heart raced as you said it, the truth spilling from your lips before you could stop yourself.

He held your gaze steadily, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The world outside faded away until it was just the two of you—two souls intertwined in a moment of raw honesty.

“I’d like that.” he said finally, his voice low and sincere. “I’d like to be that person for you.”

A rush of warmth flooded through you at his words, but with it came a wave of fear... What if this was too much? What if falling for him meant risking everything? You pulled back slightly, breaking eye contact as uncertainty clouded your mind.

“Charles…” you started, but he interrupted gently.

“Hey.” he said softly, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent sparks through your skin, and you shivered involuntarily at his closeness. “We don’t have to rush into anything, I just want you to know that I’m here.”

His sincerity made your heart swell and ache all at once. You wanted so desperately to lean into him—to let yourself fall into this beautiful connection—but fear held you back like an anchor.

“Can we just… take it slow?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling with vulnerability.

“Of course we can do that.” he replied without hesitation. “I’d never want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”

You smiled gratefully at him, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. Maybe this was enough for now—just being here together, exploring this slow burn without any pressure or expectations.

As the evening wore on and the clock ticked closer to midnight, you found yourselves lost in conversation—sharing stories about childhood dreams and future aspirations, laughter punctuating each moment as the bond between you deepened.

At one point, Charles reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The warmth of his touch sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and for a moment, all your fears faded away.

As midnight approached, the anticipation in the air grew thick with excitement. You settled back against the couch, feeling giddy as Charles pulled out his phone to check the time.

“Just a few minutes left!” he exclaimed with a grin.

You couldn’t help but smile back at him; his enthusiasm was infectious. He glanced at you then, his expression softening as he leaned closer again.

“Are you ready?” he asked softly, his eyes locked onto yours.

“For what?” you asked teasingly.

“For whatever comes next.” he replied earnestly.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words—so simple yet so profound. In that moment, everything felt possible. You nodded slowly, feeling a rush of courage wash over you.

“Yes...” you whispered.

As the countdown began on TV, excitement bubbled between you like champagne ready to overflow. With each passing second, your heart raced faster until finally…

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

The room erupted in cheers from the television as confetti fell on-screen and fireworks lit up the sky outside your window. But all that mattered was Charles—his eyes sparkling with joy as he turned to face you.

And then it happened: he leaned in closer and pressed his lips against yours—a soft yet electrifying kiss that sent shivers down your spine. It was tentative yet filled with promise; a beautiful beginning wrapped in hope and possibility.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed him back, savoring the sweet taste of new beginnings and uncharted territory. In that moment, all your fears melted away as if they had never existed at all.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, Charles smiled at you—a smile that lit up his entire face and made your heart soar.

“Happy New Year, petite étoile.” he murmured softly. (little star)

“Happy New Year charlie.” you echoed, feeling lighter than air as hope blossomed within you—a hope for what this year might bring and for the journey ahead with him by your side.

And as fireworks exploded outside your window, illuminating the night sky with vibrant colors, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe—just maybe—you were ready to embrace whatever came next together.

***

The days turned into weeks, and your bond with Charles deepened in ways you hadn’t anticipated. Each moment spent together felt like a new adventure, filled with laughter, shared secrets, and the warmth of companionship.

One evening, after a delightful dinner at a cozy restaurant, you found yourselves walking along the waterfront, the moonlight shimmering on the water's surface. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine, you felt a sense of peace wash over you as you strolled side by side, your fingers intertwined.

As you walked, Charles suddenly stopped, turning to face you with a serious expression that caught you off guard. “Can we talk about something?” he asked, his voice low and earnest.

Your heart raced slightly as you nodded. “Of course babe! What’s on your mind?”

He took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us—about how much I care for you. You mean more to me than I can express.” he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I want to take care of you in every way possible.”

You felt a flutter in your chest, unsure where this conversation was leading but intrigued nonetheless. “What do you mean?” you asked softly.

Charles stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “I want to be your sugar daddy.” he said, his voice steady yet filled with emotion. “And I know it sounds weird, but it's not in a bad way, I mean, I want to support you while you study psychology, to help you leave behind all the stress and worries that weigh you down.”

Your mind raced as you processed his words. The idea of having someone like Charles in your life—someone who wanted to provide for you, who believed in your dreams and aspirations—was both exhilarating and daunting.

“Are you serious?” you managed to ask, your heart pounding.

“Absolutely!” he replied without hesitation. “I want us to build a life together. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I believe we could be so much more than what we are now.” He paused, gauging your reaction before continuing. “I want you to move out of Las Vegas and come with me to Monaco.”

The mention of Monaco sent a thrill through you. The thought of leaving behind the familiar chaos of city life for a place known for its beauty and luxury was intoxicating, but it also brought a wave of uncertainty.

“Monaco? That’s such a big step, Charles.” you said, trying to process everything. “But... What about my studies?” you asked softly.

Charles smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course you can continue your studies there! They have excellent universities, and I’ll make sure you have everything you need to succeed.” he said softly at you.

His words resonated deep within you, igniting a spark of hope and excitement that had long been dormant. The idea of pursuing your passion for psychology without the burden of financial stress felt like a dream come true.

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” you asked, vulnerability creeping into your voice. “What if I can’t adjust?”

Charles cupped your face in his hands, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Life is about taking risks, isn't it? And I believe in us—more than anything else in this world! I promise to be there every step of the way, you won’t be alone; we’ll figure it out together.”

His sincerity washed over you like a warm wave, and for the first time, you felt the weight of your worries begin to lift. The thought of embarking on this journey with him filled you with a sense of possibility.

“Okay.” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m willing to try.”

A radiant smile broke across Charles’s face as he pulled you into his arms, enveloping you in warmth and safety. “You won’t regret this, mon amour.” he whispered against your hair. (my love)

In that moment, everything felt so right to you... The world around you faded away as he held you close, and all that mattered was the connection between the two of you—a bond that had grown from two strangers into something deeper and more profound...

As the stars twinkled above like diamonds scattered across the night sky, you knew that this was just the beginning of an incredible journey together—one filled with love, adventure, and the promise of a brighter future.

***

The soft hum of the city outside your window filled the room as the moonlight spilled in, casting a silvery glow over your study room. You had been immersed in your psychology textbooks, determined to master the material before your upcoming class. However, fatigue had crept in, and before you knew it, you had succumbed to sleep, your head resting on your notes, surrounded by the comforting chaos of your studies.

Charles had just returned from a long day of meetings with sponsors, his mind still buzzing with the events of the day. He was looking forward to spending time with you, but as he stepped into your study room, he was met with a scene that made his heart swell... There you were, curled up on the desk, your little stuffed bear nestled beside you, as if it were standing guard while you slept.

A soft smile spread across his face at the sight. “Well, well, if it isn’t my little Sleepy Scholar.” he whispered affectionately, approaching you with quiet steps. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he began to pick up the scattered books, papers and highlighters on the table. “You really should consider changing your name to ‘Overworked Wonder.'” he teased gently, glancing down at your peaceful expression.

As he organized your notes, he found himself admiring how well you had adapted to life in Monaco. You had embraced the city with open arms, exploring its beauty and charm while pursuing your studies with unwavering determination. It filled him with pride and love to see you thriving after everything you had faced back in Vegas.

His fingers brushed against the plush bear, and he couldn’t resist giving it a gentle squeeze. “And look who’s here to protect my precious girl, hm?” he said with a playful grin. “You’re doing a fantastic job, Mr. Bear!”

With everything neatly arranged, he turned his attention back to you. The sight of you sleeping so soundly tugged at his heartstrings. He knew how hard you had been working and how much this new chapter meant to you, he wanted nothing more than to take care of you, to ensure that you felt safe and loved in this new place.

Gently, he slipped his arms under your body, lifting you effortlessly from the desk. You stirred slightly but didn’t wake as he cradled you against him. “Time for bed, my little scholar.” he murmured softly, the warmth of your body against his bringing him a sense of peace. “You need a deserved rest in a comfy bed.”

He carried you to the bedroom, the soft sound of his footsteps barely audible over the gentle lapping of waves outside. As he laid you down on the bed, he carefully tucked the covers around you, ensuring that you were warm and comfortable. The plush bear found its place beside you once more, as if it were keeping watch over you in your dreams.

Charles took a moment to admire you—your features relaxed in sleep, a serene expression gracing your face. The love he felt for you swelled within him as he brushed a stray hair away from your forehead. “Sweet dreams, my love.” he whispered softly before slipping into bed beside you.

As he settled in next to you, the day’s exhaustion caught up with him. He turned onto his side, propping his head up on his hand and watching you sleep for a moment longer. The way you breathed peacefully filled him with an overwhelming sense of contentment, It felt like everything was right in the world.

But soon enough, the weight of fatigue pulled at him too. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into the warmth of the bed and the comfort of your presence. As sleep enveloped him, dreams began to weave their way into his mind—visions of laughter-filled days exploring Monaco’s stunning coastline together, quiet evenings spent sharing stories under starlit skies, and a future filled with love and promise.

In that shared moment of tranquility, two hearts beat as one—connected by love and trust, embracing the beauty of their journey together. The world outside faded away as they drifted into a peaceful slumber, knowing that they would face whatever challenges lay ahead side by side.

As the night wore on, Charles found himself wrapped in dreams filled with laughter and light—a reflection of the joy you brought into his life. And in that serene space, both of you slept soundly, cocooned in warmth and love in your new home in Monaco.

[misfitgirlwrites]

Modern!Reader x Alastor Headcanons | Third Place Giveaway Winner

This is very funny to me. Alastor dating or befriending someone who's more similar to Vox to say the least than him when it comes to...technological advancements

CW: none, just some bickering between what could be seen as an old married couple

It's a little hard for almost everyone to tell, but you and Alastor are close

I say it's hard to tell because you two are constantly throwing jabs at each other and honestly, it couldn't be helped

He was just so...old

Everything about his habits and interests were outdated and Alastor wasn't the type to do his own thing quietly 

There's always a comment, a sideways glance, a light scoff which leads to,

"Don't be upset because you don't know how to use a cellphone."

"Me? Upset over such a device? You confuse me with someone else, dear."

"I don't think I am. What'd you have again? Messenger birds?"

"Very funny."

You would simply chuckle at Alastor for the most part. You've heard it all before, your love and talent did lead to you VoxTech for a bit of your afterlife, but you didn't stay.

You found it more enjoy using what you know to help Charlie with her cause.

You were a helpful person in your own way. It was the only reason you kept trying to introduce Alastor to some form of modern tech. 

"I can make you the simplest most basic cellphone Hell has ever seen. Only phone calls and texting--"

"You lost me."

"--Only phone calls and we'll get to the rest eventually?"

"No."

You'd groan out, "even Lucifer has a cellphone! He's older than you!"

"Was that supposed to help you convince me?"

"...You're such a loser."

You have special nicknames for Alastor when you feel like picking with him. 

Old Allie

Old Man Red

Ye Old Alastor

Arthritis Strawberry

Alastor: Great Gatsby Edition

He hates all of them, of course, and that's why you love them

Alastor is completely uninterested in what you do. His focus is just more on your talent and passion than what you're making

You argue that what you're making is your passion so he should show a little interest

This would lead to a breakthrough!

"Only for phone calls."

"Right."

"Don't add anything else."

"Mhm."

"______. I mean it."

"Don't go using that scary tone with me, mister. I'm your friend, so trust me!"

It took all your willpower to not add anything extreme to the, in your opinion, useless cellphone. Phone calls only, just as promised. You knew Alastor agreed to shut you up, but you were still satisfied with your win

That's why you were very surprised when you got a call from him and you knew he wasn't in the hotel. You of course told everyone who would listen (AKA everyone in the hotel)

You yourself were always on the move and it made you happy that the chance to hear Alastor while you were both away was significantly higher (he lowkey hates the thing, so he doesn't always answer)

After a while, like a lot of elderly, Alastor would just straight up not take the phone with him.

"Al."

"Yes, my dear?"

"The point of a cellphone. You get it, yeah?"

A roll of the eyes

"Al."

"I still use the thing."

"You leave it in the hotel!"

"I forget it here and there."

"You can't tell me you're not someone's fuckin' grandfather with that lame excuse. At this rate, I'm gonna glue the phone to you."

Honestly, he kept it on him for almost two months. You expected to be having this conversation sooner.

After nagging him for a few days, Alastor made sure not to "forget" the cellphone anymore, much to his annoyance. He, of course, couldn't be seen with the thing, so it was just easier to leave it at the hotel

Two more weeks in, and Alastor would definitely be thinking of ways for this device to get in an unfortunate accident, if you will

While fiddling with the damned thing one night, Alastor finally found the one extra feature you decided to add. After a small click sounded, the small phone extended in his hands, making him let it go. The small screen was now larger; touchscreen.

Alastor's eye twitched. He could almost hear you cackling. 

He was going to end you.

@theblueslytherin Here as promised! I really hope you like it!

Alastor Taglist: @alastorssimp @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @dasimp777

[thehereticdiaries]

Into the Wonderland: Chapter Three

Chapter Summary: You suck at using the subway. You have an eventful afternoon with the pack, then a jarring phone call with your mom. After a month, you and Hongjoong have an important discussion. This is a LONG one

Warnings: Nightmares, some symptoms of ptsd, anxiety, insomia

Series Masterlist

The rest of your classes went by without incident. You stood in front of the map of the subway lines, attempting to decipher what the jumble of colored lines meant. Even though you’ve lived in Korea for nearly half your life, the subway never got easier for you to understand. You avoided it like the plague, only ever going when absolutely necessary and usually with another person. But you had to get from Seoul National University to Mapo-gu, and the bus fares would have been too expensive. 

Your classes finished nearly an hour ago. You should have gotten to the dorms by now. And yet here you were, hopelessly lost in the subway. Your shoulders ached from the weight of your textbooks. You wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the pack’s couch, but you had absolutely no idea where you were. So you swallowed your pride and called Hongjoong.

“Y/N? Are you alright? You should’ve gotten here by now,” the alpha’s voice was laced with concern. 

“I’m fine. It’s just, uh,” you sighed heavily. “I’m lost.” 

“Lost?”

“Yeah, I don’t usually take the subway. It’s too confusing. I have no idea where I am,” you admitted, leaning against a wall to ease the pressure on your shoulders.

“What station are you at?” You groaned and trudged over to the map. Whoever invented the “you are here” arrows was a genius in your mind.

“I’m at Ganseok.”

“Ganseok?! How the hell did you end up over there?” Hongjoong exclaimed. You were certain that he was pacing whatever room he was in.

“I don’t know!” You whined. “Can you maybe give me directions over the phone?”

“No need, just sit tight for a few minutes. Mingi is over that way, he’ll come grab you.” You sighed in relief, exchanging a quick goodbye then flopping onto a nearby bench. You hunched in on yourself, rubbing your temples in an attempt to stave off your growing headache. 

“Hey there, pretty girl.” You look up to Mingi smiling at you from behind his mask. “Heard you got lost?” 

“Mhm.” You stood and pressed your forehead into his shoulder. He laughed and pulled you along by your hand, getting on the correct train. You basked in the sunlight after you emerged from the subway. “God, it felt like I was down there for-fucking-ever.”

“Come on, we only have to walk a little further,” Mingi urged you forward. You walked side-by-side, occasionally glancing up at the tall alpha. Even with his mask on, you could see the worry in his face, evident by the twitch of his neck and furrowed eyebrows.

“Mingi, are you okay?” He hummed and looked down at you, briefly, but you caught the guilt in his eyes. You pulled him to the side so you faced each other without blocking the sidewalk. “What’s going on?”

“Honestly, I’m having some really conflicting emotions right now.” You waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. He held your hand, running his thumb across your knuckles. 

“I’m incredibly proud to have such a smart and driven person as my mate. But there’s a part of me, my more primal side, that doesn’t want you to work. It’s outdated, but I want to be the one providing for you,” he explained. “Obviously I’m not gonna try to stop you, but–”

“Mingi,” you interrupted. “I understand what you’re saying. It’s part of your nature, but the fact that you’re acknowledging it and working past it is really reassuring.” The tension slowly melted from his shoulders. 

“Do you have a job now?” Mingi asked as you continued toward the dorms. 

“A part-time job. It doesn’t pay much, but it’s good for pocket change.”

“How are you paying for your apartment?” He cringed. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

“It’s fine. The apartment was my grandmother’s. She managed to buy it when she was in her 50s, and she left it to me when she passed.” You swung your joined hands back and forth. “My mom travels a lot for work. She was happy that my grandmom gave me a way to focus on school rather than worrying about rent.”

“That’s really sweet,” Mingi cooed at you, causing you to roll your eyes. You continued an easy conversation for the rest of the short walk. After entering the dorms, he pressed a quick kiss to the crown of your head then moved down a hallway, presumably to his room or an office. You were greeted by San and Wooyoung in the living room, dropping your backpack next to the coffee table with a heavy thud.

“Jesus, what do you have in there?” Wooyoung’s eyes widened. 

“Four textbooks and my laptop.” You rolled your shoulders, feeling much lighter without your backpack weighing you down. When you were close enough, Wooyoung pulled you down to sit on San’s lap, maneuvering your legs onto his own. San wrapped his arms around your waist as you relaxed into his chest.

“Gross, why not use e-books?” The shorter beta rubbed circles on your knees. 

“Too expensive. These are used rentals. It’s a lot heavier but a lot more budget-friendly,” you shrugged. 

“We can help, if you want,” San offered. You shook your head.

“This semester’s almost over. I’ll be returning them soon. Maybe next semester as long as they aren’t crazy pricey.” Wooyoung snorted.

“Honey, I don’t mean to brag, but I don’t think a couple of textbooks are gonna break the bank for us.” You scrunched your brows at him. “We’re idols, we can handle buying a few books.”

“Oh, that must be what Mingi was talking about earlier,” realization dawned on you. Wooyoung tilted his head, but you waved him off. “I don’t really know a lot about k-pop, to be honest. I’ve mostly been listening to classical and video game soundtracks. They help me focus.”

“Luckily we’re on a break right now,” San spoke up. “But we are going to have to figure out what we’re going to do when we start touring again.”

“I’m fairly certain I can get a remote position, but I’ll have to do some digging.” You added a note to your to-do list on your phone. 

“So,” Wooyoung started. “Our super smart omega can’t figure out the subway system?” You glared at his shit-eating grin.

“I’m good with science, not geography,” you retorted. He cackled at your annoyed pout. 

“Oh, you poor thing.” Wooyoung pinched your thigh. You jolted in San’s lap.

“Ow!” You yelped, kicking his hand away. San tightened his grip on you, moving his hands to keep your hips still.

“Stop wiggling, or we’re going to have some issues,” San warned, looking pointedly at his fellow beta. You froze, feeling your face grow slightly warmer at the implication. Wooyoung smirked deviously, pinching your other thigh. You jumped instinctively and San had to take a deep breath to keep his composure.

“Something wrong, San?” Wooyoung prodded, stifling his giggles.

“Wooyoung,” San borderline growled. “Keep it up, and it’ll be your mouth I fuck.” There was a beat of tense silence. The betas stared each other down, each daring the other to make a move. Wooyoung tugged on your leg, dragging you across San’s lap. Not even a second later, you were placed on the cushion and San was chasing Wooyoung down the same hallway Mingi disappeared through earlier. 

“What’s that look for?” Seonghwa chuckled at your bewildered expression as he walked into the living room. 

“San and Wooyoung…” You trailed off. Seonghwa shook his head, he could only imagine what kind of trouble those two got into.

“Come on.” The elder omega gestured for you to follow him. “Yeosang and I wanted to talk with you for a bit.” You followed him down the hall and into the first door on the left. Yeosang and Jongho sat on their respective beds. One look from Seonghwa had Jongho up and leaving, muttering something about getting a snack. 

“Did you have to kick him out? It’s his room, I feel bad,” you faltered by the now-closed bedroom door.

“He’ll be fine. I wanted to have a chat between just the omegas.” Seonghwa patted the bed next to him. You laid on your stomach, propped up by your elbows, with Seonghwa on his side to your left and Yeosang sitting criss-cross against the headboard.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you want to talk about my heat.” You looked between them and Yeosang nodded. “Before we do, I wanted to ask if there are any other mated pairs in the pack.” 

“Seonghwa and San, San and Wooyoung, and Wooyoung and me,” Yeosang summed up very concisely. You raised your eyebrows.

“Wow, only beta and omega mates? I’m surprised none of the alphas are mated yet,” you commented. That at least explains what happened with San and Wooyoung. 

“When is your next heat?” Seonghwa was back to business. You checked your phone calendar. 

“Should be in a month and a half.” 

“What?!” Seonghwa sat up straight. “Y/N, that’s way too long.” They exchanged a look before returning their attention to you.

“No, it’s okay. I’m on a combination suppressant and birth control,” you explained. “My heats used to be so painful that I could hardly get out of bed, and I would throw up anything I tried to eat. I have three months between heats now.” 

“Is that safe, though?” Yeosang questioned. You felt fuzzy from their attentiveness, but it made sense with you being the youngest omega. Actually, the only member you were older than was Jongho.

“It is,” you reassured. “My doctor is also an omega, and she was on the team that developed this medication. It went through rigorous testing. There’s no lasting impact on reproductive health.”

“Are there side effects?” Seonghwa sank back down into the comforter. 

“Nothing too terrible. I was nauseous when I first started it, but that’s gone now. There’s really only one major side effect. Since my heats are further apart now, I get much more, uhhh, needy during them.” You hid your blushing cheeks behind your hands. 

“Okay, and how do you normally handle your heats?” 

“Same as anyone else, I guess. I load up my apartment with plenty of food and water, then lock myself inside and get myself off a fuck ton until it’s over,” you cringed at yourself, you could’ve been less crass in your explanation. 

“You’ve never had an alpha help?” Seonghwa’s eyebrows raised. You pursed your lips.

“I’ve never had anyone help. I haven’t gone past second base, I’ve been too focused on school,” you admit, now a little nervous under their intense stare. “Is, uh, is that an issue?”

“No, no of course not. Hongjoong’s gonna have a field day when he finds out, though,” Yeosang giggled even as Seonghwa swatted his knee. 

“That actually does lead into my next question,” Seonghwa sighed and turned his attention back to you. “Do you want help?” You nearly choke on your own spit.

“Are you offering?” 

“Yes and no. The only one that’s going to help in your first heat with our pack is Hongjoong. I can be there to make sure you’re comfortable, hydrated, and fed, but he’ll be the only one that touches you.” You gaped at your elder. 

“Why?”

“Pack alphas always go first,” Yeosang chimed in. “Wooyoung and San definitely weren’t happy about it, but that’s how the hierarchy works.”

“Seems barbaric.” You scrunched up your nose. 

“I think it’s a respect thing,” Yeosang reckoned.

“Anyway,” Seonghwa interjected. “You don’t have to decide now, since we have a while before your heat, but you are going to have to talk to Hongjoong about that and about your claim mark.” You nodded slowly.

“Alright, I’ll have to think on it.” You spent the next couple of hours chatting and relaxing with your fellow omegas. After eating dinner, everyone gathered in the living room so you could continue getting to know your new packmates. Eventually, you had to go back to your apartment to sleep and prep for classes tomorrow. In the quiet of your bedroom, it dawned on you that you haven’t told your mom about what happened. It was getting late for you, but in London your mom should be in the middle of her work day. You sent her a quick text asking her to call, and seconds later her contact popped up.

“Hi mom!”

“Hi, honey, is everything okay? You don’t normally call this late,” your mom fretted over the line.

“I’m okay, but I’ve had a lot happen the past couple days.” You launched into a detailed retelling of everything that happened with Marcus and your new pack. Thankfully, your mom was used to your long-winded stories and tangents. 

“Well, I’m very happy that you found both your pack and your mates,” your mom started once you were finished. “But, darling, are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Y/N.” You bristled at the use of your name. She only did that when she was serious. “You were assaulted. A classmate almost took your independence from you. Are you really okay?” Your face fell. The wave of emotions you didn’t even know you were suppressing crashed into you all at once. 

“I don’t know,” you choked on a sob. 

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry I can’t be there for you right now,” your mom apologized. Your body shook in your effort to smother your cries. “I don’t think you should be alone right now. Maybe you should call Hongjoong?”

“No,” you took a deep, shuddering breath. “No, I'll be fine. I just need some sleep.”

“Alright.” You heard the hesitation in her voice. “If you’re sure. But don’t be afraid to go to them. I’m trusting that they’ll take care of you when I can’t.” You sniffled, exchanging quick goodbyes and descending into a stifling silence. You swiped at the tears running down your face. You just need sleep. You were fine. You turned off your lamp and burrowed into your pillows. 

“It would be best for you to listen when an alpha is speaking.

I see the way you look at me in class.

You want me just as bad as I want you.

Your scent is always sweeter when you look at me.”

Fingers dig into the back of your neck. Teeth scrape against your skin. You hesitated too long. Teeth sink into your scent gland. You went limp against his hold. He grins against your neck.

“You’re mine, Y/N.”

You shot upright in bed, screaming in the darkness of your bedroom. You grabbed at your neck in a panic, relaxing slightly at the unbroken skin. The brightness of your phone blinded you for a moment. 3am. You buried your face in your hands, feeling the headache building beneath your temples. Reluctantly, you got out of bed and opened your laptop. You definitely weren’t going to get any more sleep tonight, so you might as well get some schoolwork done.

Over the next month, you spent less and less time at your own apartment, really only leaving the dorm to sleep or if you needed the quiet to study. Most nights, when you were alone in the dark, you were plagued by nightmares of Marcus. You hated that he was having such an impact on your psyche. Sometimes you could fall back asleep for a few hours, but you usually ended up on your laptop. It was great for your classes, since you were getting assignments done fairly quickly, but the dark circles under your eyes gave away just how exhausted you were. 

You hoped that your pack didn’t notice the sudden increase in concealer, but nothing escaped the keen eyes of Hongjoong. Especially when it came to the health of his omegas. He tried to wait for you to come to him, however as the days passed by he knew you weren’t going to ask for help. So tonight he asked to come back to your apartment with the excuse of wanting to focus on a new mix. Thankfully, you agreed. About an hour had passed with the two of you silently tapping away on your laptops. He kept glancing at you, noticing the way you had to shake yourself awake every few minutes. 

“Y/N,” Hongjoong spoke up after the fifth time you dozed off sitting up. You jumped at the broken silence. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” You refused to meet the alpha’s eyes.

“Please don’t do that. Don’t pretend you aren’t exhausted.” He gently closed your laptop, setting it on the coffee table next to his. 

“I’m okay.”

“You’re not, though. I can see it, you’ve been tired and jumpy. Please tell me what’s going on,” he pleaded, cupping your cheek and smiling when you nuzzled closer. 

“I’ve been having nightmares,” you admitted after a brief pause. Hongjoong tensed at the tears shining in your eyes. He pulled you onto his lap, chest-to-chest and knees on either side of his hips. Your resolve broke down. Your body shook with sobs as you buried your face in his neck and clung to his shirt. He cradled the back of your head with one hand, the other running along your back. 

“Baby, what are the nightmares about?” Hongjoong asked when your breathing evened out a bit. 

“Marcus,” you mumbled into his shirt. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I keep hearing what he said to me, how his teeth felt on my neck. I can’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if I had hesitated even a second longer.”

“Mingi went too easy on that bastard. I swear to god, if he touches you again I’ll fucking kill him.” Hongjoong was seething. He hated the fear permeating your scent. He never wanted to smell it again.

“Don’t. You can’t go to prison, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Hongjoong pulled you tighter against his chest. “Will you stay the night?”

“Of course,” he answered without hesitation. You stayed like that for a while, letting his scent ease your nerves. Something else gnawed at the back of your mind.

“Hongjoong?” He hummed for you to continue. “I talked with Seonghwa and Yeosang a couple of weeks ago. I wanted to ask you if you’d be okay being there for my next heat.” Hongjoong pulled you to sit up, holding your face with both hands.

“Are you sure? I can be… intense,” he asked, scanning your eyes for any sign of hesitation.

“I’m sure.” You took a deep breath. “I also want to ask for my bond marks. Both of them.” A wide grin spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. 

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed and pulled you into a searing kiss. One of his hands trailed down to your hip as he slid his tongue across yours. You pulled back, panting slightly. 

“Can I have the pack bond now? Please?” You looked at him with big, doe eyes, still shining with unshed tears. Hongjoong groaned, digging his fingers into your hip and crashing his lips back into yours. 

“You want it?” His breath tickled your neck. He pressed feather-light kisses down to your scent gland.

“Please,” you whined at his teasing. He smirked against your skin, tongue darting out to lick the sensitive skin of your gland.

“You’re pretty when you beg.” His teeth sank into your skin and you gasped, face red from his words and the onslaught of emotions coming from the new bond. He leaned back to admire the fresh wound on your neck. Hongjoong pulled the collar of his shirt to the side, exposing the multiple marks on his pack scent gland.

“Can I…” 

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” You immediately bit down to add your own mark, not interested in teasing him the way he did to you. His eyes rolled back. “Damn, not even a warning, huh?” 

“Shut up,” you mumbled, but refused to lift your forehead from his collarbone. He chuckled lightly.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” Hongjoong stood with you in his arms, moving to your bedroom. You both were already in comfortable clothes, so you settled down under your comforter. With your nose pressed against the new bite on his neck, you slept through the night for the first time in weeks.

Author's note: Yea, yea I know the heat discussion was very similar to the one in Pack Mentality. It's important to set boundaries!! Consent is everything!

Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22 @babygirlskz98 @miniverse-zen @holly-here

Series Taglist: @popcatx0 @m00njinnie @awkward-fucking-thing @fr34k4c1dr41n

[squinch-depraved]

priest schlatt I beg

we're not gonna talk about how long this took me to get to

happy national clergy appreciation day (in the u.s.) !! sorry if this sucks i was raised southern baptist and even then i sucked at christianity there's a reason i practice witchcraft now lol

hanging your head low as you ducked into the confessional wouldn't save you. sure, there was no one around to see you, but knowing that god had witnessed what you had done was reason enough to try and hide from the world as much as you could. but still you tucked yourself away into the corner of the booth, clutching your purse in your trembling hands.

religion was a something of a sore spot for you; growing up in a hyper-christian family was one way to ensure you didn't feel comfortable in a house of worship. you had always viewed god as an inevitable outcome, a fact that awaited you whenever you happened to reach the end of your journey here on earth. once you graduated high school and locked yourself into a four year program at a catholic college one state over, you came to realize that the reason you couldn't stand your religion wasn't because of overbearing relatives. no, it was the very idea of god himself. you found him sadistic, an egotistical prick who had nothing better to do than let horrible things happen to his creations. maybe it was true that most of the teachings you had heard were lost on you, that you didn't even make an effort to understand the lessons passed down for thousands of years. but so what? nobody had ever made an effort to understand you or what you were going through, why should you waste your energy extending that courtesy to a church that obviously didn't care about you?

but you know who did make you feel understood? the guys you had dated in the three years since you arrived at this prison. at least, for a few weeks, in the beginning. the first one was fine. he was the one who convinced you virginity was an outdated concept- which you still agreed with to this day, you decided. he was surprisingly "woke" about the whole religion thing, which was what drew you to him in the first place.

"my parents made me study here too," he sympathized. "i totally wish i could've gone on a mission trip instead of getting a degree. like, college will be here in a few years! those impoverished people might not, y'know? i just feel like god is totally calling me to go serve. like, 'troy, man, go feed those guys! tell them how cool i am!'" he stopped tossing a miniature foam basketball against your bedroom wall for a moment to look at you.

you smiled weakly at his sentiments and glanced up from your laptop to nod. "totally, troy."

turns out, (unsurprisingly) troy was a fucking douche. he stayed around just long enough to get into your pants a couple times, but then you caught him with the girl who lived in the dorm across from you, so he had to go. nobody ever found out who stole his clothes from the men's showers, but the videos of him streaking down the hallways while he ran to his room were sent around campus for months after that.

guys two and three were more painful than troy; you had actually grown attached to them. guy two lasted almost a year, and three was only a few months, but he felt special. and the half dozen guys you slept with while trying to get over them just added to the tally of sins you were keeping subconsciously.

so when your grades started to slip from depression in the winter of your junior year, and your counselor called you to her office for an appointment, it was no surprise that her words got under your skin as easily as they did. how could they not? getting students to go to church was part of her job. she was concerned that your grades were slipping because she hadn't seen you at mass in a long time, and the absence of the lord will do that to a young girl, you know.

so later that night, after drinking by yourself at a bar a few miles from the school, you stumbled into the church on campus and slunk into the confessional. realizing that the wooden box was incredibly uncomfortable, you winced and pulled off your heels, rubbing your feet gently as you waited to be listened to.

you shrieked quietly when a small lattice window on the wall next to you slid open. "oh, fuck... sorry! um, it's my turn, right?... yeah, i think so. okay, so, um. bless me father for i have... sinned? it's been, like," you paused as you counted back the time on your fingers. "almost two years since my last confession. oh, jeez, that makes me sound awful." you were hiccupping as you rambled, and you could have sworn you heard the faintest exhale of amusement if you weren't plastered.

"whatever, it's too late to stop now," you sighed, crossing your legs. "i let some guys sleep with me and now i'm all unpure and like. i'm supposed to show up here a couple times every week now but i don't wanna, i don't care enough about this whole god thing to waste the rest of my college life becoming a nun. i'm already worried i wasted three years coming here instead of a school where i could have felt like myself," you trailed off.

it was quiet for a moment before a gruff voice with a new york accent asked, "how many guys?"

you snorted. "9, i think," you said with a smirk, rolling your eyes.

the man on the other side of the panel felt his face heat up as he mumbled, "jesus." you couldn't hold in your laugh at how absurd this was. this was what you deserved for coming to confess at 2 in the morning.

"i know it's been a while since i've been here and all, but i'm pretty sure that's not what you're supposed to say," you giggled.

a chuckle was heard before he answered, "sorry. you're right, it's not. tell me more, what led you to sleeping with them?" at least now he was trying.

the two of you talked for about an hour, until it no longer felt like a confession and you were sure you had fallen for this priest you couldn't even see. eventually, he tried to dismiss you without giving you your penance, but something in your gut drove you to bring it up yourself.

he stepped out of the booth first, and you hesitated for a second before following him, freezing when you saw what he looked like. tall, scary, with gorgeous brown eyes framed by aviator glasses and fluffy chops adorning his cheeks. by some miracle, he also felt immobilized by his view of you hopping out of the wooden compartment- dress disheveled, fishnets ripped, heels in one hand and your purse slung over one shoulder. you were his worst nightmare, a temptation he simply could not resist. god had just placed a vulnerable young lamb like you in his midst; who was he to deny himself of the simple pleasures his lord had provided for him?

"father? father, my penance," you waved your hand in front of his face (after a bit of trying to get his attention), which had just gone dark. his eyes now looked hungry and cold.

"hmm?" he blinked and tilted his head towards you slightly. "oh. uhm," he let out a deep exhale, as if contemplating something. "y-y'know what? just come with me," he spoke gently, taking your hand and leading you to a back room with some spare furniture scattered about.

a part of you knew what was coming, and a different part of you never could have guessed the situation you were about to find yourself in. once you were alone in the room together, he pulled you close and pressed you against a wall, letting his hot breath waft over your neck as he bent down to whisper in your ear.

"god's telling me we should make it 10 men you've been with," he murmured, voice velvet smooth as it coated your eardrums. "so you can say at least one of them was a real man of the lord, hmm, doll?"

your breath, caught in your throat, sped up as he slowly, gently, tenderly took your wrists in one of his hands, bringing them to rest above your head. "father..."

"schlatt. my name's schlatt. but that's just a courtesy, hm? stick to callin' me father." you felt him smirk against your skin as he sunk his teeth into the flesh of your neck, drawing out a frantic moan from you.

"careful with your noises, angel, there's two other guys here tonight, and if we get caught, i'm gonna have to share you," schlatt warned. he used his other free hand to pull down the top of your dress, smiling greedily at the sight of your exposed breasts. "no bra?"

"i-it didn't go with the outfit," you tried to defend yourself, but he just shushed you and fondled your chest lovingly, like he really was just appreciating one of god's creations. pathetic noises spilled from your lips as you watched him admire you, a hypnotized look on your face.

"you're so beautiful, doll. wha's your name?" he asked, glancing up at your face to meet your gaze.

you stammered out your response and he repeated it, running over the name in his mind.

"pretty," he said simply. "i'm gonna make you feel good now, okay?" it was more of a statement than a question, and you nodded with a gulp as he knelt down and slid his head under your dress. you felt your pupils dilate as you leaned your head back against the wall and let your eyes fall closed. schlatt ripped a bigger hole into your fishnets and pulled your skimpy panties to the side, licking a long stripe up your folds and tracing circles with his tongue on your clit. it was hard to keep your whorish noises contained, but clamping your hand over your mouth did a good enough job.

he ate you until you were frantically scratching at his head through the fabric of your dress as you came all over his face, sobbing from how good you felt. you didn't even know it was possible to feel this euphoric, but here this priest was to show you how. once he was satisfied, he pulled away from your cunt and rose to tower over you again. he reached into his robes and opened them enough so that his crotch was visible. you watched as he pulled out his length, stunned at the size of it, and let him pick you up and position you around his waist.

"father, i'm scared, i don't know if it's gonna fit," you admitted guiltily. schlatt locked eyes with you while he replied.

"it's okay to be scared. but you have to do it anyways." with that, he slid into you, stretching you out more than you ever had been before. you bit onto him in an effort to keep quiet; his robes did a good job of muffling the sound. after a generous amount of time to let you get used to him, he started moving.

he was gentle at first, but gradually got rougher and rougher. there wasn't a moment where he wasn't focused on making you feel good. his eyes pierced through you as he rammed into you at a relentless pace, and the attention he was giving you didn't make you feel objectified like it did when the other guys fucked you. it made you feel divine, ethereal almost.

grunts and pants, along with the occasional squeal, were all that could be heard as he rolled his hips into you time and time again. he coaxed another orgasm out of you just with his cock, and once he felt like he had pleasured you enough, he sped up, now thrusting at a frenzied pace.

"when i tell you, you're gonna get on your knees and take me in your mouth, okay angel?" he instructed, out of breath. you nodded, eager to please.

"yes, father," you gasped as he reached deeper and deeper inside you with every thrust. schlatt's eyes rolled back slightly at the title and he went impossibly faster for a few seconds before speaking.

"n-now! now!" he ordered desperately. he set you down hurriedly and you slammed down onto your knees to take him in your mouth, letting him burrow deep into your throat before he finished with a loud groan and grabbed your hair roughly.

he remained in your throat for a moment while he caught his breath, sliding out once his chest had stopped heaving.

"there's your penance, doll. i better see you here for a 2 a.m. confession next monday as well, yeah? i think that's what the lord's callin' me to do," schlatt said as he buttoned his robes. you straightened your clothes as much as you could and looked up at him sheepishly.

"looking forward to it. but, uh, is there a back door i could leave through? because i do not want to walk through the church like this." you gestured to your outfit, tattered and wrinkled, and winced.

he chuckled and nodded. "yeah, i'll show you to it. maybe it could be our secret entrance," he joked.

"oh, of course. i'll knock three times whenever i need to be let in," you retort with a grin.

maybe coming to church wouldn't be so bad, after all.

[meli-writes]

payload

"nah, this is too good to be true," the merc-rebel-something mutters. she turns, twiddling the combat knife in her hand and stopping only to point it at you. "you wanna tell me what trap i've walked into, sweetheart?"

you eye the databox, stuffed with weeks and months of upcoming junta plans. and more besides. enough intel to butcher hundreds of their bootlickers, least until they figure out they're compromised.

"i have it -- for my own reasons," you taunt like the bellow of rotten, felled tree. "making my mark, if you have to know."

"is daddy-dictator's special girl staging a rebellious phase in her twenties?" the merc mocks. "smuggle a bunch of data to what sell for tattoo money?"

you didn't plan an answer for a question like this, and it's hard not to just gawk and fumble at your cuffs.

"maybe -- if it's not a trap -- the intel lasts a week," she continues. and besides that, you urge in your own head. "that's the only part with access dates in years. rest is outdated crap."

"w-what do you--"

you shut up when she stalks up, lifts chin with the little blade's point with just enough force to dip it in red.

"you living out some little fantasy right now?" she asks, as much curious as annoyed. "because i really think that'd be a mistake."

it takes a lot not squeal. "i-i'm a valuable hostage, my family will pay well."

"they will," the merc muses, "and i think you knew that." in a glance she's seen right through, smiles at the confirmation you haven't realised you just gave away. "you leaked your convoy's route didn't you? playing hero, thinking you're gonna make us a pretty penny and then waddle back to your parties and soirées."

you buck up above the point of the knife, "you think i like being around them? they're monsters. and i have to pretend to be one, and you have no idea what that does to you."

her brow raised, she stays quiet, listens.

"but i stood up, just like you did. i'm doing what i can."

and she laughs.

"ah-hahaha! oh saints, how many years you been saving up that little speech, sweetheart? or bleeding heart i should say."

"too many," you spit.

"hmm. good answer," she smirks, putting a hand on your shoulder and hoisting you towards her own vehicle. "you're staying restrained."

"b-but i'm helping you!" you gasp.

"your round ass for ransom helps me -- you don't," she makes clear, makes sure to enunciate it with a squeeze that presses into your collarbone. "and i don't trust you, so i'm not interested in giving you the chance to try anything. don't think i haven't killed prettier things than you.

don't think i regretted it either."

[theynlife]

#2: Drunk Nights

Summary: College!Y/n gets a little too wasted and gets an offer to stay with c/n for the night

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption, that’s about as bad as it gets

B/n - boy’s name

N/n - nickname

E/c - eye color

Of all the papers I had to write in the coming weeks, exams to study for, and packing to do before heading back home from college, I somehow found myself tonight crammed into a dorm room packed like a can of sardines, trying to soak up the last ounce of the semester.

F/n and I loved to sit together and share a drink occasionally, but tonight was special—we wanted to have a good time before parting ways for the next couple of months. What started as a small gathering of close friends on a Saturday night quickly spiraled into something much larger. Word got out, and soon friends of friends began pouring through the door. Before long, the room was out of seats, out of standing room, and buzzing with chatter and laughter.

Despite the spatial discomfort, I couldn’t help but smile when a few familiar faces from my English class—B/n/1, B/n/2, and c/n—managed to slip in just before the room hit capacity. I was mid-laugh when I felt a hand land gently on my shoulder.

“Hey, n/n, is it cool if I sit next to you?” c/n asked, his tone easy and warm.

I grinned, already several shots in and feeling a bit bubbly. “Absolutely! What’ve you been up to tonight, c/n?”

He settled on the floor near my chair, leaning in slightly. “We were just hanging out in my room but figured we’d check out the commotion. B/n/1 seemed especially eager to get here,” he added, gesturing toward the duo sitting shoulder to shoulder on F/n’s bed, grins plastered on their faces.

I let out a laugh, my gaze following his. “Well, he’ll be happy to know the feeling’s mutual. F/n’s been hoping he’d show up since people started piling in about an hour ago.”

C/n raised an eyebrow at me, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Is that so?”

Feigning shock, I placed a hand dramatically on my chest. “Would I lie about something like that?”

We both burst into laughter, barely able to catch our breaths before the room’s noise swept us back into the atmosphere.

As the night went on, c/n and I found ourselves grabbing drinks and keeping tabs on the budding connection between B/n/1 and F/n. They seemed more comfortable with each passing minute, but before long, I realized I was feeling the effects of the evening. My gaze had drifted to the outdated popcorn ceiling, and I caught myself staring at it for what must have been minutes before c/n waved a hand in front of my face.

“You in there, y/n?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

I blinked a few times, trying to snap back to reality. “Never better,” I slurred, forcing a grin to mask how far gone I really was.

He stood and extended a hand toward me. “Why don’t we get you back? It’s getting late, and I’m starting to think these lovebirds might just be here forever.” He nodded toward B/n/1 and F/n, now sitting with an arm around her shoulders.

I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet, only for the room to tilt and spin. My balance faltered, and I instinctively grabbed onto his shoulders to steady myself. He caught me easily, his grip firm but gentle.

Once I steadied, we made our way out of the room, but I barely managed two steps down the staircase before stumbling forward again. C/n’s arm wrapped around my torso, catching me before I fell. Without a word, he shifted my arm across his shoulders, supporting me as we descended the stairs.

“C/n?” I murmured, my voice weak.

“Yeah, y/n?”

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it back to my dorm.”

I kept my head down, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. He paused, scanning me carefully before speaking. “Do you need a place to crash? My roommate’s gone for the weekend—you’re welcome to stay in my room.”

My brows lifted at the offer. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”

He frowned slightly, his voice soft but firm. “Y/n, you’re never a bother to me.”

Slowly, he guided me down the final flight of stairs and into his dorm. I noticed the neatly arranged door decorations as he opened the door and led me inside, sitting me gently on his bed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, rummaging through his desk.

I gave a faint smile. “Right now? Great. Tomorrow morning? Probably not so much.”

He chuckled at my response, pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen and filling a glass of water. Handing them to me, he said, “Here—this might help a little.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, touched by the small gesture. While I might have thought to drink some water on my own, the ibuprofen was a stroke of genius. As I sipped the water, he grabbed his own bottle and sat down across from me.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the noise of the party far behind us.

“You don’t have to stay here with me,” I said softly. “If you want to go back to the party, I’d understand.”

He shook his head. “I’d rather be here with you.”

I turned to meet his gaze, my heart skipping at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, I was speechless, the weight of his words hanging between us.

Before I could respond, he stood and began tidying up. He set up a blanket on the futon, flattening it out.

“What are you doing?” I asked, confused.

“You can take the bed,” he said simply. “I’ll sleep here.”

As he reached to turn off the lamp, I caught his wrist, stopping him.

“You don’t have to stay on the futon.”

“I’m not making you sleep there.”

“I know.” My voice dropped to a whisper.

His gaze darkened, studying me for a long moment before he nodded and slid under the covers beside me. We lay face-to-face, the room dim and quiet.

“What���s holding you back?” I asked softly.

He hesitated, his voice barely audible. “I want you so badly, but I don’t want to violate your trust. You’re drunk, and I—”

Before he could finish, I closed the gap between us, pressing my lips to his. His initial shock melted away as he brought a hand to my jaw, his touch gentle but firm. Our movements were slow, deliberate, and full of unspoken emotion. When I pulled back, I searched his face, my voice barely above a whisper.

“We don’t need to do anything. I just want you here with me.”

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober 21 - Secrets Revealed (alt prompt)

title: movies

fandom: empires smp

part of esh au :)

cw: discussion of past suicide attempts

~

Maybe Scott shouldn't have chosen Heathers.

But somehow, in his long life of being queer, Jimmy hadn't ever seen it.

"You're literally bisexual and you haven't seen it?" Scott had asked, astonished. At Jimmy's nod, he added, "It's the most bi movie ever. And I could sing the musical all day, too, but musicals based on movies are always better than the movies based on musicals—"

"What's so important about it?" Jimmy had interjected, one brow raised, and Scott couldn't help but feel a flurry of pride at how much Jimmy had opened up over the past months.

"You'll just have to watch it and see," Scott told him, so here they are, three days later, Scott on his end of the sofa and Jimmy on the other, a bowl of popcorn (that Jimmy rarely takes from) between them.

It's not a date, Scott reminds himself repeatedly. It's just a movie night between him and his ward. No, a movie night between him and his friend. Jimmy holds no romantic feelings for him. And he doesn't have any for Jimmy.

Lies.

But they're watching, volume lower than what Scott would normally watch a movie with (loud noises make Jimmy jump, and subtitles are readily available), and Jimmy seems to be enjoying it. He lets out a little laugh at all the right places, and rolls his eyes at the outdated references, and loosens up a bit as the movie goes on.

Until the one scene.

The part that Scott didn't even think about, more worried about the other dark tones of the movie.

Where Veronica fakes her own suicide.

Before Scott even registers that he got up, Jimmy is out of the room, in the kitchen, turning on the lights and starting the sink running.

Scott pauses the movie, something sinking in his stomach. "Jimmy?" he calls tentatively. "Are you all right?"

No response.

What was that about Jimmy being his ward?

It's getting easier and easier to forget that Jimmy isn't just his roommate, but someone he is charged by the state to take care of.

Scott uncurls his legs from the couch and gets up to head into the kitchen, letting his feet fall harder than normal to let Jimmy know that he's coming.

Jimmy's standing over the sink, scrubbing hard at a bowl, head down. After a quick, splashing rinse, he sets it in the dish drainer and reaches for a plate.

"Not that I mind that you're doing dishes," Scott says drily, "but why? What happened?"

Jimmy doesn't say anything, his scrubbing motions becoming jerkier.

"Was it the movie?" Scott tries. "I honestly didn't think—"

"Can you leave?" Jimmy asks suddenly, before cringing. "No, sorry, I didn't mean that, sorry."

The panicked apologies send Scott into caretaker mode, whether he likes it or not. "Are you having a flashback? It's okay, you're not there—"

"No, I'm—Scott, I'm fine," Jimmy insists, hunching further over the sink. "Please—please don't worry. You can—you can go finish the movie, okay? I'll just wash up here and go to bed early."

Scott almost agrees. He doesn't want to make Jimmy upset. He wants everything to be right for him.

And then he remembers that he isn't just Jimmy's friend. He's his caretaker, and he has to make sure that Jimmy is safe and mentally well.

"Okay," he says carefully. "But I'm scheduling you a therapy appointment for tomorrow."

"What? No, I'm already seeing Nora on Thursday—"

"The trigger was bad enough that you're having to clean to distract yourself," Scott points out. "I know what it looks like when you're trying to fight a flashback, Jimmy. If you really want me to leave, I will, as long as you go to therapy tomorrow. "

Jimmy doesn't answer for a long time, washing another bowl with even more aggressive scrubbing. He rinses it, sets it aside, and turns off the sink, squeezing out the dishrag.

"I tried to kill myself," he says bluntly, turning around and leaning on the counter. "While I was . . . there. I was gonna hang myself on my own leash, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"I—" Scott feels himself blanch, as hard as he tries to keep a straight face.

"And I tried to kill myself a bunch of times after you got me out, just so you know. If it wasn't for people messing around, I would've succeeded. Does that make you happy?"

"Jimmy—"

"Because it sure didn't make the crazy doctors happy!" Jimmy's crying, now, just a little bit, eyes wet and red, even as he laughs. "I have to be on drugs to be normal! Just because I was a stupid, suicidal pet!"

Jimmy isn't looking at him anymore. His eyes are fixed on a spot slightly to the left of Scott, as if looking him in the eyes will make all the precarious emotions spill over in a tidal wave.

"It was—what do you call it, premeditated?" Jimmy says. "I decided—when I woke up—I was gonna twist my leash around the doorknob of my cell and the hook, and I was gonna hang myself. But they took away the leash—and they strapped me to the hospital bed so I couldn't get any scalpels—and they drugged me up real bad—"

"Jimmy—"

"What kind of person needs drugs to not kill themself—?"

"Me," Scott says loudly, and Jimmy cuts off mid-sentence, eyes focusing on his face.

"What?"

Scott leans against the wall, crosses his arms. "Me," he says again. "I'm on antidepressants, too. When I was eighteen, I . . . made an attempt on my own life. Aeor saved me. I've been on medication and going to therapy ever since."

"I'm sorry," Jimmy mumbles after a pause, the frenetic energy seeming to drain out of him with the two words.

"It's okay," Scott says, and he feels like he's about to cry, like those few sentences have rubbed his soul raw, but he's going to stay strong for Jimmy. "It was a while ago, I don't mind talking about it. But I have depression, due to some . . . stuff, and I didn't see a future that I wanted to be a part of. So, I'm sorry that you went through that, Jimmy. But I don't want you to think that needing medication means you're somehow less of a person."

"Sorry," Jimmy says again. "I—I didn't know."

Scott shrugs. "You didn't. It's not really something that comes up naturally in conversation, you know. But medication isn't a bad thing, okay? If it helps you to survive . . . well, that's good."

Jimmy chews on his lip, turns his gaze to the tiled kitchen floor. "I'm just . . . I'm tired of being messed up in the head."

There's not really a cure for that, though.

As infuriating as it is, mental illness isn't like a cut to be stitched up and bandaged. It isn't a pulled muscle that can be healed with an ice pack and a little rest. Mental illness is a cancerous tumor writhing inside the brain, and the excising is painful and exhausting and almost certainly doesn't get all of it out.

"I know it's hard," says Scott. "I don't know how hard, but I know it is. And you've still made an incredible amount of progress."

Jimmy shrugs. "Maybe. I . . . I wish I didn't have to."

Scott doesn't know what to say.

So he just offers a sympathetic smile and waits.

It's cruel. It's cruel that Jimmy was ever pushed to such lengths, that he ever felt so hopeless.

Scott knows it's cruel.

He knows that it hurts to look back, to remember oneself in such a dark place, swallowed up in the pain.

At least he has a few years' difference. Jimmy's still at the place Scott was when he was nineteen.

What would Aeor do when nineteen-year-old Scott would lash out, angry and tired?

The answer comes quicker than Scott expects.

Aeor would send him to bed.

"Well, I'm ready to go to sleep," Scott says, not quite having to fake a yawn. “We can take care of these dishes tomorrow, yeah? Let’s take the rest of the evening off.”

“But—”

“Nah, leave ‘em.”

“The movie?”

Scott shrugs. “I’ve seen it before,” he says nonchalantly. “And we can watch something else next time. Maybe Lord of the Rings.”

Jimmy makes a face.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like them.”

“I—they’re just so long,” Jimmy protests. “I don’t have time for a three hour movie.”

“That’s not the important part, what matters is that they’re a classic.”

“They’re boring.” “Clearly, you haven’t been watching them right.”

“I’ll lock myself in my room again. Don’t think I won’t.”

“You would never.”

“I would! And I will!”

[postmail]

hey guys i love you. its my birthday in three days have some queeshmael (and other assorted stand-alone ishmaels and queequegs) moby dick fanarts that ive drawn over the course of like... several months that i never posted because i thought they looked like shit. and tbh i still do. but also theres beauty in everything and also also i need to lead by example of fearlessness in posting shitty ass fanart just for funsises. just because it makes me happy. some of these are outdated but idgaf. enjoy inconsistent character designs lol

its under the cut cause uh wow thats actually a lot more than i expected? whoops?

okay funny story i actually lied up there a little bit i drew this several months ago and was so madly in love with how it turned out that i never posted it because i didnt want the inevitable lack of attention to sour it for me. its a little outdated now but i still love it, i just want to put here so i never lose it. ishmael please go to therapy

newer art yet somehow even more outdated designs? i think i was trying to be a bit more experimental and didnt like how they came out. i still dont like the designs very much but looking back now i dont think the art itself is actually that bad.

never posted because i just couldnt get the anatomy quite right. i actually kind of miss when i colored grays like this idk how i forgot that actually wait i should start doing that again-

this one was for mermay, just pure silliness and cringe for the soul. more of that awesome gray shading line stuff that i need to start doing again, but i didnt like how queequeg's face looked. and also i think i felt a bit silly about this? like i thought it was too cringe or something? idk why tho its kinda cute to me now. best of wishes to ishmael in his goal to fuck that fish man

more inconsistent queequeg designs! i really liked this one when i first drew it, but i thought it was too small to post on its own, being just a itsy little doodle for shading practice. now i can post it :). wonder who it is thats talking to him?

another little drawing! this one i never posted because 1) i fucked up when drawing it and accidentally drew it way too small and 2) i accidentally made it waayy too similar to another moby dick fanart by another more popular user and i didnt want other ppl accusing me of copying or smthin... i jusr didnt think this piece was particularly worth the risk of that. i think its fine now tho.

incredibly shitty doodle i really only made for myself ft. incredibly innacurate drawing of a sperm whale. ngl i still think the joke is funny tho.

shhh dont tell the cringe police about this one but this is a queeshmael fankid i made. her name is rachael and she cannot make normal facial expressions to save her life. she loves listening to her dad infodump its interesting to her. she knows so many incorrect facts about whales! whoopie!

this might have been a valentines special? idk. i was gonna redraw it but then i forgor. let this be a lesson to you: finish your drawings, or else you'll only have the older version to show to people (its okay i still like this a little bit)

oh shit i ran out ok bye guys hope you liked your gay whalers peace and love on planet earth

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

summertime sadness

pairing: steve harrington x fem byers!reader

summary: a quiet night only a few weeks in the aftermath of starcourt mall.

A/N: y'all i'll be honest, these in-betweens are gonna be short and below average. was thinking about not posting them, but you know it's the small moments that count the most.

series masterlist

previous chapter next chapter

August 14, 1985

The room is quiet. The whole house is quiet, the only sounds being the refrigerator humming as it made ice and the crickets chirping outside with Steve’s windows pushed open. The late summer moving into fall breeze toyed with his heavy curtains, the bright light from the pool spilling into the small space.

Both of you lay on his bed. You are on your back with a pillow under your head, your left leg bent with your knee in the air. Steve laid on your front, his head tucked under your chin. His puffs of breath ticking the exposed skin of your collarbone as you mindlessly carded a hand through his hair. His arms were wrapped tight along your stomach, his palms pressed into your spine, his fingers spread out.

Your eyes stared blankly into his plaid wallpaper, probably something his mother picked out when he was just a kid that she loved dearly. Now it felt outdated and you wished to peel it from the structure.

You rolled your head on the pillow to the right to peek at Steve’s alarm clock, the giant digital numbers of 3:33 stared mockingly at you. Dry eyes stinging with each slow blink you did, not being able to keep them closed for more than five minutes before they snap open. You didn’t want to bring your nightmares into Steve’s room as he finally got his bits of sleep.

It’s been a rough two months for everyone. El moved into the house and she would either sleep in Joyce’s room or yours when Steve wasn’t around. But it felt like he moved in as well, and you knew why. He was always alone in the giant two-story house and he didn’t want to be alone after everything. And you didn’t want to be separated from him.

You heard the deep inhale from Steve and felt his arms tighten. Eyes moved away from the empty walls and down to see him leaning back so his eyes were able to meet yours.

“Hi.” A gentle whisper in the silent room. Your hand continues to card through his soft tendrils.

He kissed your collarbone followed by, “Hi.” His eyes squinted just a bit while observing your face. “Can’t sleep?” Knowing he noticed the darkness making a home under your eyes.

A simple quirk to the right corner of your mouth, “Nothing new. What ‘bout you? You were doin’ okay.” Noting he slept for about four hours.

Steve tickled his nose against your skin as he readjusted his head, tucking himself into your neck. “I’m better when I’m in your arms. Keep the darkness at bay.” His voice was rough from nonuse.

Nails scratched at his scalp, “Same with you.” A simple white lie. He usually did help at keeping the nightmares and horrid memories at bay, but this time…

This time they couldn’t leave you alone for just an hour of sleep.

Steve deeply inhaled, “You’re lying, but also not. I understand though.” He held you tighter, “We’ll work through this, together.”

You didn’t bother saying anything back in response, only leaning forward to place a heart-heavy kiss on the crown of his head. You heard Steve as his breathing evened out and his limbs grew heavier. Your eyes just moved back to staring at his plaid wallpaper with your hands mindlessly touching him, wanting to keep him sleeping through the night.

-

taglist: @heartyhope / @preciousbabypeter / @dessxoxsworld / @piper3113 / @animiacorn / @burn1ngw00d / @drxwstxrkxy / @m-rae23 / @noisyeggsmoneystatesman / @yournan69 / @thats-s0-ravenn / @ameliabs-world / @mayonesavegana / @gracella0709 / @gengen64 / @alecmores / @choclate32 / @stvrdustalexx / @redheadedfangirl / @agustdeeyaa / @yappydoo / @liberhoe / @hehehehannahthings / @ladybug0095 / @sweeter-innocence-fics / @j-6o / @voteforevilthoughts / @harrysflowercrownrry / @ilovereadingfanfics / @sorrow-has-a-place-here / @80strashbag / @sunsumonner / @sweet1peach / @cierrajhill / @we-out- here-simping / @nix-rose-a / @x-theolivia / @stylesyourmine / @starkeylover/ @ihatepeanutss / @yeehawbrothers / @parkershoco / @scorpiolystoned /

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Damage Control - 3x14 Long Distance Call

“I’m scared, Sam. I’m really scared.”

Dean’s admission echoes in Sam’s aching head as they sit beside each other, on their respective motel beds, drinking beer and nursing their bruises, while the TV flickers ominously in the darkening room. Dean’s found an old horror movie that he must’ve watched so often he knows it by heart, mouthing some of the lines in sync with the characters, his swollen face lighting up in childlike joy at the outdated, involuntarily comical jump scares.

Sam could never get behind his brother’s enthusiasm for horror flicks. In his opinion, they’re dealing with enough horror in real life as it is. Why Dean would find relaxation - even joy - in watching people getting terrorized and torn apart by monsters, aliens or (worst of all) other humans is beyond him. Why he would fill what little downtime they have with even more fear and blood and pain is something Sam will never understand.

He also can’t get behind the sudden insouciance that Dean is showing, sitting rapt in front of the TV, their earlier conversation about Dean dying in three weeks seemingly forgotten. Very possibly, it’s just a front - a mask he’s put on to disguise the very emotions he admitted to only twenty minutes ago. Up to anyone’s guess whether he’s protecting himself or Sam by sliding back into the brave act he’s put on for months now. Pressed, Sam would guess the latter. In the end, it’s his modus operandi, and as much as Sam rebels against needing protection - he’s twenty-five now, for god’s sake - he believes that, by correlation, it’s what keeps Dean together. Taking care of Sam means he can’t fall apart. Not even three weeks from going to Hell.

Sam shudders.

“Ohhhh– that was nasty, wa’n’t it?” Dean grins at him, pointing at a slashed-up body on the TV screen, the insane killer silently walking out of the frame, machete dripping blood.

Sam shakes his head, albeit carefully, his brain still sloshy from getting knocked out earlier. How can Dean find gory murder amusing when he’s about to get ripped apart himself? He suppresses the ‘A little too close to home, don’t you think’ he’s got on the tip of his tongue.

Dean slaps Sam’s leg. “Oh come on, Sammy! Admit it - it’s funny!”

Sam doesn’t laugh. “Haha.”

“Wuss.” 

A knock on their door pulls Sam out of his thoughts and Dean away from the screen. 

“Papa John’s Pizza!” someone announces cheerlessly outside and knocks again, impatient. “Your order’s here!”

Rubbing his hands in anticipation, Dean gets up and, after checking through the window, he opens the door to a weary-looking twenty-something in a red-and-white uniform holding a family-sized pizza box out to him. Dean pays and tips him generously. That, too, is his modus operandi: they may be near-broke most of the time, but Dean never lets a person with a shit, low-paying job go without a tip. He’d rather not order at all. Sam can’t remember if that’s something Dad taught him, but he doesn’t think so. 

Door shut and locked, Dean returns to his bed with the steaming box and opens it, his eyes already swinging back to the TV where the crazed machete murderer is stalking his next victim.

“He’s in for a surprise with that one,” he comments cheerfully before he maneuvers a slice of pizza out of the box and bites off, sauce dripping down his chin and onto the bed. Sam wants to say something about the sheets and using napkins, but he doesn’t have it in him. As much as he complains all the time about Dean’s messy eating, he knows he’s going to miss it when–

No. He’s not gonna go there.. They’ll find a way to save Dean. It’s not gonna-

“Dude! You’re not even looking!” Dean admonishes, chewing. “This is the best part! The Final Girl!” 

There’s screaming on the screen, blood splattering all over the place, and the killer growls and snarls like some rabid dog. It sounds way too much like a Hell Hound. Sam swallows.

“Dude, you okay? Lord of the Flies leave you with a concussion after all?” 

Dean’s eyes are on him now, giving him the full Winchester-X-ray scrutiny, pizza and movie momentarily forgotten.

While it’s true that the Crocotta knocked him out, Sam doesn’t think he has a concussion. His head hurts, and he’s a little dizzy, but he can see straight and he doesn’t feel like throwing up the two beers he just drank. No, the lump in his throat is nothing but dread, pushing up through the bravado he, too, has been putting on for Dean. 

“D’you want a poem?” he’d joked earlier, to kill the tension and knock Dean out of his panic. It had worked. Humor sometimes was the only thing that worked when his older brother was spiraling. Humor or pure, physical force. And Dean needs him. No matter the show he’s putting on, Sam sees it in the taut line of his shoulders and hears it in his exaggerated laughter. Behind the pretend mirth, despair still glimmers in the green of his eyes. 

For once, Sam’s got to be the one to lean on. He can’t waver now.

“I’m fine,” he says, waving at the TV. “Just that Pizza Face over there is not exactly making my mouth water.” More blood sprays on the screen as the triumphant Final Girl takes an ice pick to the killer’s ugly face. Sam pointedly wrinkles his nose. “Yuck.”

Mollified, Dean chuckles. “Lightweight.” He takes another hearty pizza bite and licks a string of cheese from his split lip. “Wait till you see what happens with the teacher in part two! Guy knows how to handle a chainsaw, I’m not kiddin’!”

“There’s a part two?” Sam asks, horrified. Why anyone would want to watch a sequel to this ludicrous garbage eludes him.

Dean grins devilishly, although it must be hurting his badly bruised cheek. “Yeah, and it’s on right after. A marathon, in fact. Parts one through four back-to-back.”

Sam has to keep himself from sagging in dismay, and he stops the agonized groan that wants to slip out of him. A whole night of battling insomnia and the monsters waiting for Dean in Hell with badly made-up, fictional monsters prowling over a scratched TV screen - it’s not his idea of conquering fear. But, apparently, it’s Dean’s, and if this is what his brother needs, if this is what helps him face the nightmare waiting ahead, Sam will be by his side. In this dismal motel room and in the three weeks to come.

“Alright then. Pass me a slice,” he says, gesturing at the pizza, to a crescendo of screaming coming from the TV. “And another beer.”

Dean’s grin widens, and if he’s still scared underneath the twinkle in his eyes and the bright flash of his teeth, it’s hard even for Sam to detect. “That’s my boy!” 

He balances a slice from Sam’s veggie half of the pizza onto a napkin and hands it to him, followed by a fresh beer that he pops open with his ring.“Get comfortable, dude,” Dean instructs joyfully, rearranging the pillows between his back and the headboard. Then he lifts his beer bottle to toast to Sam. “It’s gonna be a looong night.”

Sam toasts back, a twinge in his chest. Twenty-one nights left. It’s time they start making them count.

The Damage Control Series Masterlist

Read the whole series on AO3 here:

[tamamatango]

“Holy shit they actually froggin did it”: A Keroro Gunso anime revival preliminary info and speculation post (late as hell edition)

Okay first of all,

AWAKEN

That’s right, vanished-into-the-void bastard Kirb here, I am an alive person still, though I’m certain a lot of stuff on this blog is horrifically outdated. Don’t get too used to my presence, I’m a whole ass adult with a 9-to-5 now and don’t really have the energy to put into consistently maintaining this account, at least not to the degree that I used to (took me well over a whole ass MONTH just to write this post). However, I’ve returned for a special occasion, as basically anyone still in this fandom is already aware considering it’s been forever now:

We are so fucking back

It took thirteen years and counting, but here we are, a brand new Keroro anime project is in the works—no “the short anime of all time” Flash series here, this is the real deal, straight out of 2004–2011, and goddamn is it beautiful. I might’ve been off the mark when I called it for the 15th anniversary, but it’s now the 20th, five years later, and the madmen did what was once thought impossible by many.

So let’s break down what the hell is actually going on here, because when this got revealed last month, Keroro fans on all sides of the globe basically started collectively running around like headless chickens. I’m gonna divide this aggregation post into the following sections:

Where did this even come from

Clearing up misconceptions

Okay so like what is “““Project”””

Collection of statements from official accounts, staff and cast, etc.

The Localization Question (TM)

Miscellaneous thoughts that don’t really fit anywhere else

I was originally going to make this a living document of sorts but some small stuff has already happened since I started drafting this the day after the reveal happened, so this should be it for the time being. It’s a hefty enough post as is. I am just a master procrastinator :V

That takes care of all the goofy intro nonsense, now for the parts you actually want to read, starting underneath the cut!

Section 1: The Signs Were There

As previously stated, 2024 is the 20th anniversary of the Keroro anime, along with the 25th anniversary of the manga’s serialization but apprently even they don’t care about that since they’ve made no fanfare around it whatsoever, unlike the joint 15th & 20th anniversary back in 2019. Maybe they will as we get closer to the manga anniversary in November, but for now-obvious reasons the anime has been overshadowing the manga side by a lot.

If you’ve been monitoring the Keroro PR account on Twitter (you bet your ass I’m still calling it that) you’ll have noticed an increasing output of Stuff over the last year or two, even compared to the prior anniversary. These include but are not limited to:

In 2021, the series opened an official YouTube Channel, where they’ve been doing reruns of the anime (region locked to Japan), PR podcasts, etc. It’s also where the revival announcement premiered on April 1 at midnight JST.

In 2023, the series opened an official Fan Club with a paid membership. Originally it was a temporary project meant to last for only the two anniversary years (2023 for the pilot oneshot’s anniversary, and 2024 for the anime/manga), but was ultimately extended indefinitely due to “good reception” (my guess is it was always planned to be more than two years but they didn’t want to make it too easy to guess as early as last year that the anime was returning lol). They have a merch store, giveaways, and some kind of social component. I don’t know much about it otherwise because it’s a paid membership that I don’t have access to.

The series has had an overall increase in merchandise and collabs since 2022 or so. This has pretty much always been the case, but there was a bit of a lull between the Flash series ending and the ramp-up period to this (I’d start at 2021 when the YouTube channel opened). Save for the 15th/20th stuff in 2019, for which the major project was Keroro UC, a spinoff manga/plamo line that just…never released all the models and has never been brought up again. Guess it didn’t do very well :V

A number of international releases/rereleases happened as well, but I’ll get into that a little bit more in its dedicated section. For now let’s just say that the anime being finally licensed and put up on streaming in North America may indicate the new series will be English translated in some capacity. It’s also made a resurgence in Korea, its biggest market outside Japan, where it’s had new exhibitions and collab cafes, a redub (that only got through 2 seasons I think), and even a new mobile game.

And finally, a week or so before the announcement, a new Twitter account was created specifically for the anime side of the brand. I think this was really the big tip-off, as Keroro PR has been the hub for all things related to the franchise for the last nearly 15 years, even when the original anime itself was still running during Twitter’s infancy. Keroro PR has posted everything for every other anime anniversary. The fact that now all of a sudden they had to sector off the anime stuff into its own account made it clear something bigger was going on. (Accordingly, the Keroro Anime account has labeled Keroro PR the “original work” account, AKA the manga side of things.)

Essentially I think they’ve been planning this to some degree since as long ago as 2021, the first time the president of Bandai Namco Pictures (animation studio comprised of Sunrise staff that took over the Keroro IP in 2015 and are now producing the new anime) openly acknowledged the possibility. I’ll just link my own tweet with the translation of his statement here. This was right around the opening of the YouTube channel, so I don’t think it’s a coincidence.

tl;dr Momentum for the anime component of the franchise has been building for the past couple of years pointing toward a new anime around the 20th anniversary, so I wouldn’t say this comes off as a huge surprise, though I was expecting something smaller scale than what we might be getting (more on that in the “what is this” section).

Section 2: No It’s Not April Fools, Guys, Plus Other Clarifications

With the announcement spreading across the internet, I’ve seen a few points of confusion going around that I’d like to clear up before I go any further.

As I’ve made clear in the section title, yes the new anime was revealed on April 1, no this is not a prank. A lot of Japanese companies do post April Fools pranks, but keep in mind April also marks the start of the new fiscal year in Japan, so many legitimate announcements are made as well. Plus, the original anime’s exact anniversary was on April 3, just a couple of days after the announcement.

I’ve seen a lot of people call this a new series, season, etc., but officially, the only term used to describe this so far is “new anime project”. That could mean literally anything, from TV series to movie to ONA and so on. I am leaning closer to a certain interpretation, which is what the entire next section is for, but for the time being, calling it anything other than “new anime” is technically not concrete info.

There seems to be a little bit of confusion on what studio is working on this, but in short: it's Bandai Namco Pictures (BN Pictures or BNP for short). As previously mentioned, this is the studio that inherited the Keroro IP when it spun off from Sunrise in 2015. Sunrise, the anime's original studio, is now a brand name for the larger anime management company Bandai Namco Filmworks. Although they've held the IP for almost a decade, this is the first time they've really gotten to do anything with it besides merchandise licensing and some anti-piracy commercial from a few years ago that they’ve ironically scrubbed from the internet now. If you've seen the name Studio BIND (Mushoku Tensei, Onimai) floating around, they're assisting with the production but are not the primary animation studio. Of course this is all assuming this setup continues on to the final project and not just for the PV, but I see no reason to assume otherwise at the moment. It would be rather unusual for BNP to outsource anything if it was solely for a 30 second trailer.

I think that does it for the main points of contention I wanted to address for now, so moving on to the thing we all really want to know…

Section 3: Okay But What Is It Actually???

Well, as I said in the previous section—we don't know, lol. At least not officially. But if we put our thinking caps on, we can make a few deductions:

The anime project will be broadcast on TV. In other words, it won't be an ONA (original net animation). This is determined based on the fact that TV Tokyo, the network the original anime aired on, is on the production committee. For those who don't know, a production committee for an anime is the collection of parties/companies who contribute to the production and funding of the anime. For comparison, the Keroro Flash Series, which aired only on the TV channel Animax to accompany a dedicated timeslot for the original anime reruns, did not have TV Tokyo in its committee. So, it will likely air on TV Tokyo once again.

It's (probably) not a movie. This is going to be more evidenced by point 3 than anything, but BNP has been pretty clear about when something is a movie specifically in the past, such as when Kaiketsu Zorori had various feature films in the 2010s before getting an actual TV anime revival in 2020. Still, we can't be 100% sure until someone directly says otherwise.

It's going to be more than a one-off. I will post the statement in full in the next section, but the Keroro PR account uses specific wording (“resumption,” “new start,” etc.) that sounds very much like they’re making a longer term commitment, so this is straight from the horse’s mouth, essentially.

The series will be a continuation of the 2004-2011 series rather than a reboot. This one’s probably my flimsiest prediction as the PR statements sort of obfuscate whether it’s one or the other, but the character bios section on the new anime portal site gives away a big hint: the Garuru Platoon, Pururu included, is there. This means that we can reason that, at minimum, all or part of Season 3 has already occurred. The character bios themselves also summarize things that weren’t revealed until a little while into the show, such as how Momoka and Tamama met. That all said, the Garuru Platoon members do not have bios, so I suppose they want to keep what’s being done with them a bit of a secret; perhaps they intend to reintroduce them with some kind of dramatic arc again. Either way, if the series does retread/retell some old material, it probably won’t be the bulk of the story. This makes sense to me, as it’s not like the show has been so hard to find in the last decade that a reboot is necessary to get a modern audience on board—it reruns constantly on kids’ TV channels like the Japanese version of Cartoon Network, is available in full on multiple streaming platforms (movies included), and is now on its second rebroadcast of the whole series episode by episode on the YouTube Channel. Unless you’re a literal toddler, if you’re interested in the series, you’ve probably watched at least some of it already.

In conclusion, based on the above (admittedly sparse) evidence, I am inclined to believe the new anime project is a TV series that will air on TV Tokyo as the 2004 anime did and will be a continuation rather than a reboot; however, there is no way to determine episode length, episode count, etc. at this time. It could be a cour (for those who don't know anime, "cour" is your average 12-episode season), it could be consecutive cours, it could be split cour (in other words, goes on break for a season before returning), it could even be a year-round anime if they really wanna go all the way with it. Granted, I hesitate to believe that they would do the latter simply due to the nature of anime production these days, and as far as I know, BNP has not done a single year-round airing since its founding. Even the aforementioned Kaiketsu Zorori revival was a two cour (24-25 eps) series each year from 2020-2022. My guess is we're looking at something similar here, but Keroro is a pretty big deal, so could they make an exception? Maybe, but this setup would already lead to more episodes than the vast majority of anime these days, so it would still be plenty enough to be happy with.

Considering all this and the list of numerous hints that we were potentially getting a new anime as far back as three years ago as bulleted in Section 1, you might question what made me doubt that it could be a series in the first place. Well, besides just the series being so old and it being so long since the anime ended that it felt a little like wishful thinking, at least three members of the cast said that a new series was not something they were specifically looking to do...I think, anyway. Let me explain.

Last year, on December 9, a Keroro birthday event with Kumiko Watanabe (Keroro), Etsuko Kozakura (Tamama), and Takeshi Kusao (Dororo) was hosted in person and livestreamed on TwitCast for fans that paid for a ticket. There were two timeslots for the in person event, and only the evening show was streamed, with the afternoon one being in person only. Now that I have adult money, and being the impulse driven gremlin that I am, I paid for the virtual ticket. Most of it was just cute little segments like the three cast members doing live commentary on some of the birthday episodes, discussing the results of a “favorite lines from their characters” poll hosted on Twitter a few weeks before the event, and a brief visit from Jashin-chan of Jashin-chan Dropkick/Dropkick on My Devil, a series that Keroro recently collabed with for a series of merchandise. Unfortunately the event wasn't archived publicly and they specifically asked to not upload materials to social media, and I'd like to respect that request mostly out of consideration for the cast, so you will just have to take my word for it :P (besides those who were watching me talk about it in real time on discord).

The reason I'm going on this tangent is because, at the end of the stream, a special prerecorded video featuring the three cast members was shown exclusively for virtual attendees. In it they essentially explained that they still greatly enjoy the characters/series and would love to partake in more events and projects, but "not necessarily a new series." I promise you I listened to this clip over and over the entire time it was available and that's what I heard. Now look, the room they recorded this in was echo-y, and my Japanese is pretty decent (enough for my N2 anyways, yeah I did that while I was away from here clap clap) but listening comprehension is my weaker area, so maybe I just take a massive L here. When I started writing this post there was a sentence here guessing about whether they were just being cheeky or didn’t know yet, but an interview came out last month that gave what’s all but a conclusive answer to that. More on it in the next section but tl;dr, they likely did not know it was happening at all. Well, at least they got to be as surprised as we were :V

Anyways now that the thing has been revealed none of the last two paragraphs even matter, so I just prattled on for no reason besides to admit my own shame. Next bit.

Section 4: SAUCE PLOX??? (Current testimonies from relevant people/entities)

Naturally, when the trailer dropped, we got a pretty decent handful of comments from whatever staff and cast are on social media. Most of these are just people going “yay we’re back hooray!” (paraphrased) but the Keroro PR account statements are actually kinda sorta hints? So I’ll start out with those. There’s two tweets that I want to highlight here:

First is from April 1 (JST), the day of the reveal. In this tweet the account wishes everyone well for the new school/fiscal year, but the important part is the last sentence, This can be translated any number of ways (thanks to yoroshiku onegaishimasu and its 50 potential meanings, every Japanese translator’s worst nightmare), but essentially it’s something along the lines of “we hope you’ll support the restart/resumption of the Keroro anime for a long time to come.”

The keywords here are obvious: 再始動 (saishidou) meaning either restart or resumption. I know you’re probably thinking those are two very different things, but the nuance here is that it’s more of a restart in production than restart of the continuity. For the latter, I think it’s more common to see リメイク, which is just the English word “remake” in katakana. Worth noting that the Flash anime used none of these words in its marketing, but it did use language such as “brand new invasion plan,” “rebirth of Keroro,” and so on…in addition to, you know, having a completely different artstyle and a title change to just “Keroro”, which this clearly does not (the artstyle is relatively faithful to the old one and the project is under the original Keroro Gunso name).

The other big word is 末永く(suenagaku), which…also doesn’t have one exact translation, but implies somewhere between years or even an indefinite period of time. I didn’t want to say a specific unit of time in my translation of the statement because well, we can’t really be sure of anything here, but either way, they’re signaling that they’re most likely in it for the long haul.

Then there’s the tweet from the PR account commemorating the actual anniversary of the original anime (April 3). This one uses 新しいスタート, “new start”—no real multiple definition shenanigans here, this is about as literal and straightforward as you can get. In terms of the reboot or not question, this could lean either way, but it definitely adds to theory that it is a series of some sort.

Okay, that’s all for the individual tweets I’m gonna totally overanalyze, otherwise I’d be stuck here for even longer than I already have been. Here’s a quick list of involved staff who tweeted about the reveal:

Unsurprisingly, Kumiko Watanabe (Keroro) posted that day, reiterating that it is real and saying “believe usssss!” (As a reminder, half the internet was convinced it was April Fools for like a whole week)

Adding to the cast comments, Etsuko Kozakura (Tamama) says, “Whoo-hoo! Can’t wait for more news! Keroro Gunso is still the greatest!!”

Jouji Nakata (Giroro) didn’t make a specific comment about the trailer, but has been retweeting the other official accounts and such and replying about it, so he has acknowledged it otherwise. As a substitute, here’s a picture of him visiting the Keroro Exhbition in Ikebukuro a day early.

Here’s an interesting one—Haruna Ikezawa (Momoka) said about the trailer, “Really?! Is this real?!?!?!” While no cast members outside of the Keroro Platoon were officially revealed to be reprising their roles, I’m assuming they’re going to try their best to reassemble as much of the cast as of season 7 as possible—besides Keiji Fujiwara (Paul/Narrator), who sadly passed away in 2020—so I kind of figured Ikezawa would know about this, but maybe not…? Well, considering that the main five were completely blindsided by this to the point where they weren’t even sure this was a real thing until they were in the middle of recording it (as I said previously, more on that later), I suppose the other cast members were just. Not told. I don’t really doubt Ikezawa would return (she even stated it could happen someday all the way back when the then-final season ended in 2011 and did come back for Flash)…but unless they were like really worried about leaks why even keep them in the dark to learn with the rest of the public, idk man :V (so much for not overanalyzing tweets huh)

On to production staff now, here’s the tweet from Satoshi Koike, animation director of the latter third of the original and also the reveal trailer, indicating that he’s most likely back for the new project. It’s just a simple “Welcome back! (de arimasu)” but the images he used were drawn back in 2019 to commemorate the start of the Reiwa era, spoofing the original lyrics of the first opening. The reveal trailer tweet itself from the Keroro Anime account does this too (“Starting today, the Reiwa era shall be known as the Keroro era!”).

New to the staff is Jouji Furuta (yes we have two Joujis now har har), who did the storyboards and direction for the trailer. He’s relatively new to the scene as a whole, with his most well known project being Shaman King Flowers. Although he never worked on the series before, he did a pretty good job emulating the original, and based on the last line of the tweet, it seems like he will be staying on for the full project as well.

And now for a kind of weird section where I talk about the few related accounts that the Keroro anime twitter is following but haven’t made any kind of verbal acknowledgement yet.

First and foremost is Mine Yoshizaki—you know, the guy who created the fucking series, whose name is on the copyright string and whose explicit permission they had to get to do another anime in the first place? Yeah so it’s been over a month since the reveal now and there has been zero acknowledgement from him. I do know his personal social media account has been inactive for quite a few years now (I feel like the anime account is only even following it for symbolic reasons), but he had multiple other opportunities to say something at this point. He did contribute some signed artwork to the anime-focused exhibition that just ended but nowhere in it does he directly mention the new adaptation, and so far he hasn’t commented on it in Shonen Ace (maybe in the next volume, assuming that’s soonish). I have my theories about his relationship to the anime, especially now that the Kemono Friends fiasco has occurred, but that’s all a story for another day or never. I’m sure he’ll contribute something later, but even so it’s just really bizarre to have nothing to say about your biggest creation’s first new adaptation in over a decade. Oh well.

Character designer Fumitoshi Oizaki, who has been around since the beginning if I remember correctly, has been retweeting things, but no official comment just yet. (He discretely left a message at the expo apparently, but didn’t post it online, so no idea if it mentions the new anime.) He isn’t credited on the trailer, but considering he’s still been pretty involved with the franchise’s promotion over the last few years, I would be very surprised if he wasn’t returning.

Last but certainly not least is Junichi Sato, the chief director for the original anime for the first two seasons, arguably its most well-known and critically praised era. He’s also a very notable director in his own right, having headed other famous series like early Sailor Moon and Ojamajo Doremi. Sato didn’t direct the original anime for the majority of its runtime (though he did direct the first four movies), but he still directs and storyboards on projects to this day, including for other franchises’ major anniversaries (namely Doremi and Precure). Though not certain, I think it’s very possible that he returns for this in some capacity, if not as director than perhaps for storyboarding or general advising.

To close out the testimony section, I’m going to share here the translation I did of the aforementioned interview with Kumiko Watanabe in last month’s issue of Newtype (anime-centric magazine published by Kadokawa). I won’t re-summarize it here since it’s not particularly long, but the main takeaways from this in terms of hints as to what we can expect are that a) the cast was surprised by this and potentially didn’t even know back in December when they last discussed the possibility of working on Keroro again, and b) as I previously speculated, this is going to be a long term enough project that at least Watanabe feels the need to physically prepare for it lol. And thankfully, it seems they’re all excited to go back to the series. I spent a long time thinking they might not be up to it again since it’s been so long and they’re much later in their lives/careers (Nakata just turned 70 oh man) but I’m glad I was wrong! Though I don’t expect this to be another 300 episode commitment anyway; in spite of the PR comments I don’t think we’re going for that long with the nature of anime production these days lmao.

And now for a topic which I think many of you are concerned about…

Section 5: “But what if my 日本語 is not 上手???” (The Localization Question)

If you did not get the joke in the above headline without looking it up, it’s probably safe to assume that if you want to watch this Thing, you will need it in a language other than Japanese (and even if you did get the joke you will know if you are truly 日本語上手 when people stop saying 日本語上手 to you). I’m going to focus on English for this post since that’s the primary language of the audience here, though I would be very shocked if there isn’t at minimum a Korean translation—dub more likely than sub imo, since the most famous version of the show there had different names for the characters and was changed to be set in Korea, and the series is HUGE there to the point where it almost rivals the Japanese market.

So, English. Well, if it were a few years ago (say, if this came during the 15th anniversary like I was originally coping over), I would be markedly less optimistic about getting any official translation at all. At that time, the dub was explicitly dead and the only English sub had been delisted for a few years, and even that was only available in a select few countries in Continental Europe on a pretty obscure streaming service called Viewster for like a year or two before getting pulled. It’s no surprise that this particular sub eventually became more well known as the subs on the torrents compiled by ColdFusion (whoever that was, I’m still not sure myself). That was until…

…the magical year of 2021, when our heroes at Discotek licensed the ENTIRE SERIES (minus the movies) for an official English release using Viewster’s existing translations! That’s right, we got all of it. And not only that, the whole series was also added to Crunchyroll, though only the sub; Discotek had the Funimation dub but it seems it did not get ported to Crunchyroll when the merger happened this year. It does seem that Crunchy has still not made the series available outside of the US and Canada, which is a shame, but man is it still surreal to have the entire series legally available both digitally and physically after nearly two decades of scattered fansubs and hardly accessible official releases. Surely this was a huge win for Discotek, right?

Weeeeeell…no. Of course they weren’t able to say it out loud, but it’s been extremely heavily implied that unfortunately the BluRay/DVD releases flopped for them, and they did say they definitely won’t be getting the movies or the Flash series. They also stopped releasing the discs on a one season a year basis and started bundling them together, with seasons 5–7 coming out all at once later this year, so they’re clearly trying to just get it off their plates. To be honest, this was pretty predictable because…it’s been on Crunchyroll since before the discs even came out. Look, physical media is super cool and all, but who in this economy is going to pay $40-60 per box for a handful of seasons at most when they can get the whole damn thing on their phone for like $8 a month. Crunchyroll isn’t necessarily a disc killer; their release of Digimon Adventure, for example, still seemingly did well despite that series being available on Crunchyroll two years prior, but in addition to Digimon being more popular in the west, it’s one $60 purchase for the whole series versus having to spend like over $200 for 358 episodes. I applaud them for rolling the dice and trying to get this behemoth of a release out there, but I’m not surprised about the lack of financial returns.

However, since Crunchyroll now has set a precedent of having the original series available on their platform, we just might get the new series available on there as well—if not as a simulsub, then at least dropped in batches later on. I’m not 100% confident in this, particularly because technically Discotek still holds the license, but my guess based on the way they’ve talked about the series is that they’re pretty open to someone else taking it off their hands when they’re done releasing the original series (and the translations weren’t originally theirs to begin with anyways, they purchased them and did some touch-ups to the existing translation with added typesetting). As far as simulsubs go, the kids’ shows that get simulsubbed tend to be from Toei, with whom Crunchyroll has a known partnership. But if it is split into cours rather than being a year-round anime, I think the chances of a simulsub go up. Whatever the case may be, it’s for sure in a better position to get an official subtitled release than it ever was before. I’m certainly praying this happens because I believe most of the people capable of fansubbing (with good translation anyway) have gradually moved away from the fandom over the last decade for various reasons—myself included, though mostly I just quit fansubbing/scanlation in general for Personal Reasons(TM). Fingers crossed, everyone.

So subs remain as a not-guaranteed-but- definitely-not-low possibility. But what about a dub? If you recall, Keroro has had a very rocky history in 3D with English dubs, with the American dub being in licensing hell for years before finally falling into Funimation’s lap and subsequently failing to take off despite remaining a beloved cult classic to Some Fans (I am not as high on it, but longtime Kirb followers probably know that by now), and the only other English dub is relegated to the network Animax in Hong Kong + Southeast Asia with no official home release, leaving all of it besides parts of seasons 3 and 4 as lost media (and the voice acting sucked ass but at least the script was accurate). But we’re not in the mid 2000s to early 2010s anymore; this is the screamin’ ’20s, baby! So much anime is getting dubbed now, sometimes at almost the same time as the Japanese release! There must be a chance, right?!

Eeeehhhhhh I wouldn’t bet on it. Even the Toei kids’ shows Crunchyroll started simulsubbing usually don’t get dubs (Digimon is an exception, and the reboot’s dub took YEARS to come out). Anime dubs, as far as I’m aware, are not cheap to produce (though it’d be great if more of what the companies are pocketing went to the actors’ wages >_>), and if the show does have the potential to become somewhat of a long runner, I think they’ll need to see more interest around the IP to fund one, and both Funimation and now Discotek’s releases have proved that the audience for it isn’t always there. I also speculate they’d be doing a lot of recasting; the casting process is not as smooth and (I believe) more expensive than it is in Japan, and a lot of the original cast are not working as often in the field anymore and/or have been involved with some pretty serious controversies—I’m sure those in the know are thinking of a specific drawn-out conflict but I’m pretty sure it’s more than just About Him at this point. So let’s just say that while some of the cast still remembers the show fondly, I think trying to get them all in the same project again would potentially open some cans of worms better off left closed. It’s not 100% impossible it gets dubbed, you never know what the industry can manage to make work these days, but I’d wager it’s like 90% not happening. Just a hunch. If anyone more knowledgable than me on anime localization (this goes for both the dub and sub stuff) would like to argue me with better explanations than I have I’d very much be glad to hear it.

Section 6: The Stuff That Doesn’t Fit Elsewhere + Final Thoughts

There’s not going to be any real organization to this section. Here’s just some bullets of miscellaneous stream of consciousness thoughts related to whatever:

The character bios page on the site linked in section 3 has some WEIRD romanization choices. I don’t expect these to reflect on any official localization because chances are they’ll go with what Viewster used, which is largely what the fandom is used to besides the Kululu/Kururu split. It is indeed Kululu here and Kululu has been the de facto official spelling for a very very long time now but I still have a personal preference for Kururu because “Kululu” loses the onomatopoeia joke and I’m a rebel. But like. “Tololo”? Since when has Tororo ever been called that in any media? And worst of all, “Pole”? POLE?? That’s literally never been a thing what glossary did they pull these from.

Also worth noting, Alisa and the Narrator had merchandise sold at the Keroro expo (will talk about that next btw) despite not being on the characters page. This isn’t a confirmation of anything but I would be very surprised if Alisa doesn’t return at some point since she was pretty prominent later in the show and Yoshizaki seems to have a particular fondness for her, and the Narrator will obviously be there with a recast, though jury’s out on if his little ’sona guy will show up too. It won’t be the same without Fujiwara :(

I do want to touch upon the “Keroro expo”, officially known as the “Keroro Gunso Super Gerogero Museum” (expo is a fine shorthand because the Japanese word can mean exhibition also), since I’ve mentioned it a couple times throughout this write-up. This was an event that was held in Ikebukuro just recently from April 27–May 12 that was basically a walkthrough experience recreating settings from the anime, having artwork and stuff sprinkled in between (all reused, no new concept art or anything sadly). The main gimmick was that the venue had an exclusive app that let you take AR pictures with models of the Keroro Platoon. It also had an AI chatbot feature where you could talk to each member of the platoon, and not too many posted pictures of this feature but apparently the chatbots were uhhhhhh weird. I have no idea how much of it is generative from other LLMs, and I’m assuming they programmed it at least partially with their own original input/databases (which is the only way to make generative AI even close to ethical), but from the few screenshots I’ve seen their speech was just a little bit awkward and some of the stuff they said was really bizarre. At one point users started to turn it into an otome game and successfully romanced the frogs, which I’m assuming is a little bit out of the bounds of what they were expecting from this experiment. If they do release that app publicly at some point—they labeled the version at the expo to be a “test version,” so maybe—I sincerely hope they at least fine tune it because Good Lord. Finally and maybe most importantly, there were new voice lines recorded for the exhibit to give it an audio-drama type simple story, but unfortunately it was probably not archived because video recording was not allowed inside the venue. The platoon all had new voice lines along with Fuyuki and Natsumi, reportedly still played by Houko Kuwashima and Chiwa Saito respectively, so most likely they will return to reprise the roles for the new anime, though I don’t think those two were much in question. That’s really like the only important part of this for the purposes of this post I’m not sure why I mentioned anything else here actually. AI chatbot Dororo wants you to know he enjoys tickles from Giroro and Tamama. Yeah this thing’s a little fucked

I didn’t want to get too deep into this in section 3 because it’s not really a production related question, but…are Shin Keroro and related new characters gonna be in this or not? For what it’s worth the site seems to count the Flash series as part of the anniversary celebration, and screenshots with Shin in them are there even if he is completely absent from the character page. Flash was a total reboot so I don’t think it will be that exact iteration of the character if he is in the new anime, but there must be some way to work his stuff into the existing anime canon even with its many differences from the manga. Honestly I think the main obstacle to him appearing is just that the guy is not very popular lol. He’s hardly in the manga anymore and Tomosu and Myou are in it even less. I’m not sure if it was just franchise fatigue following the end of the anime but the reception to Shin was very meh across the board (at least among longtime fans, kids might’ve liked him I think. Which makes sense). So I could totally see them skipping him entirely. There’s still a lot of post-anime manga-only stories without his involvement at all, some that included him but he could easily be changed to some other character, and for the stories that revolved around him, well, the Flash anime got to a decent amount of them. This could really go either way but for now I’m going to lean toward him not being included. If he’s put in I think it will not be until the “second season” (whatever the definition of that ends up being) so we can be eased back in to the existing cast first before shaking things up significantly.

I like the new artstyle, assuming it carries over from the trailer to the final project. It looks like they hit a happy medium between the early and late artstyles of the original anime. This is the most obvious with the human cast who haven’t received new official artwork by Koike and/or Oizaki in a looooong time, and they look much better than the last time we saw them in season 7 where everyone got weirdly lanky for some reason.

Okay FINALLY I’m done here for now I think. At the time of writing we’re pretty much just in a “wait and see” phase with no other real concrete info around that I haven’t touched upon in this post. Trust me, I’ve tried digging for more, but I couldn’t find anything really interesting staff-wise and very few of the staff credited in the trailer are even on social media (sometimes staff can be a bit loose-lipped so it’s possible to get hints there). I’ve also checked every nook and cranny of the official sites of both animation studios and the companies on the production committee and turned up with nothing of note. I’m hoping we get some more info at least sometime between now and autumn.

Thanks for reading all the way to the end (or speedscrolling here, don’t worry I won’t be disappointed lol). I hope you found it informative even though I probably spent way too much time yapping about dumb shit. It took me entirely too long to write this post, but I don’t have as much time as I did as a teenager and it’s been a good few years since I’ve done a really deep dive into Keroro stuff. Needless to say, I’m beyond excited for this project and can’t wait to see how the last seven years of me huffing unhealthy amounts of copium pays off. I’ve had like a month and a half to sit on it now and it honestly still doesn’t feel real!

I will most likely return to report when we get some amount of substantial info—hopefully with way fewer words lmao. Until next time! Ge-gero~