#val has mail

[youre-ackermine]

𖥸If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog𖥸

Hello lovely anon ❣️

Thank you for your ask & here are 3 facts about me

1 - When I was younger & lived in the Alps, I used to practice ice climbing (a lot !!!) It was really fun, even if we had to practice mostly by night for the water to be well frozen ⛏️⛏️ Now I practice the sofa climbing that I can practice night & day whatever the weather may be 🌧️ I'm sofa climbing right now, my feet in front of the fireplace, a chocolate milk on the coffee table & a big black fluffy cat purring on my thigh 🐈‍⬛🐾

2 - I don't like "my own ass" so much & I always feel insecure about myself... So I recently decided to challenge & I started to write 2 Levihan smut fics 😈😈 I decided to do so after reading so many awesome nsfw fanfics by my faves @thedeadqueenwritingcorner @levmada @djmarinizelablog @m-jelly 😈 It's exciting & a little bit scary, but I think it's a good thing to get out of our comfort zone sometimes 😉 We'll see what happens when the fics are written ✍️

3 - Challenging myself, since I'm not really a Val fan, the 3rd random fact will be a random act with a face reveal OMG It's the worst thing ever for me but I'll do it & run away to hide the very second after 🏃‍♀️💨

Levihan art by my dear friend Ash 💖 I love you & I love your art @ashh-ketchup

Is that you Erin, my lovely anon ❣️ of today ?? @erinthelfdoll

[inkykeiji]

I need to know how you imagine kissing vox because i literally can't get the flat screen out of my mind😪

like this!!

vox has an actual mouth—as in, a deep cavern in his face—and a tongue. i know the voxtagram posts aren’t technically ‘canon’, but we do also see him eating in those as well! just showing he has a mouth with depth and dimension to it.

but i also do think kissing him would hurt and would result in your face quite literally smushed against his own/his screen. if you have a tablet, and you kiss it, i think it would feel like that, if your tablet had a mouth you could stick your tongue into.

[wanderingaldecaldo]

Cyberpsychosis: 2, 6, 8 and 15 for Valerie. Thank you! 😊

Thank you for the ask, @dieselfusion! You get both versions of her. 😁

2. Lt. Mower: What is the worst betrayal your OC has faced?

Streetkid!Val: Travis. He sleezed his way into her pants (and heart) and convinced her to join 6th Street. Later Val found out he targeted her because she was a talented netrunner, and he had been tasked with scouting new talent. He lied with every breath, and cheated on her constantly. She stayed only because she didn't think she could make it on her own. After two years of his bullshit and listening to a bunch of NUSA losers deserters whine about things being better under Myers, she finally had the courage to leave and find work with fixers. Once she made the decision, Travis dropped the truth on her -- that she'd only ever been a job to him.

Corpo!Val: Everything that happened with Arasaka. She worked hard to achieve her position and produced results for the corp. It didn't matter that she was following orders from her superior, who would not hesitate to kill her for disobeying. She gave her youth to the corp and, though she received an education and training, feels they left her with nothing.

6. Bloody Ritual: Does your OC have any pre or post mission rituals or superstitions?

Streetkid!Val: if it's a big job, she'll hit up Vik to tune her cyberdeck, otherwise she will do some basic maintenance, like rebooting it and reinstalling her quickhacks. After, she usually hits up Tom's for a burger and fries.

Corpo!Val: She didn't have any before Jackie, she considered herself too practical for things like that. After his death, she usually ends up at The Afterlife and has a couple of his drinks post-gig.

8. House on a Hill: Is your OC easy to trust or are they paranoid? How vigilant are they?

Streetkid!Val: Very slow to trust now, but once someone has proven themselves, she trusts them completely. She's not very vigilant and she has been burned by trusting the wrong people, especially in her first few years on the streets, and later with Travis.

Corpo!Val: She learned very quickly as a teen at Araska not to trust anyone, and her time in intelligence/counter-intel only increased that lack of trust. She is very vigilant and has very few people she trusts fully.

15. Smoke on the Water: What does your OC actually truly think about the sex industry in Night City?

Val (both): she has no problem with it, though she wishes the street joytoys had a union and protection. Her mother was a joytoy and she knew how hard Victoria worked to keep them afloat. She also has no problem with dolls, given that they don't experience any emotional trauma from their jobs. She gets into it with Johnny every single time he makes a misogynistic comment about dolls or whores.

Cyberpsychosis Asks!

[easy-revenge]

back from the dead to say that this is the most matt song ever and im over here hitting my furniture bc of it

[vaugarde]

team starfall for the bingo :3

ok so i was gonna mash em all up in one bingo and be like "lol guess who is who" but then i. well. uh. well i ended up splitting it into 3 lol

valerie

asha

skylar

[hashtagbiitch]

🌙do they need an emotional connection or are one-night-stands an option? 🫂how do they feel about friends with benefits?

sinday headcanons accepting !

do they need an emotional connection or are one-night-stands an option? she usually has one night stands or hookups that sometimes develop into something more long term. she doesn't need an emotional connection to be aroused.

how do they feel about friends with benefits? velvette is very career oriented. she focuses more on work than relationships and that makes her a selfish partner. friends-with-benefits suit her more than serious relationships.

[bloodwards]

assembling a letter with various goodies for a bestie from another city 🥺

[valkwise]

Hi! Today I want to introduce you to my husband and I's dear friend, Abdelrahman Hajjaj.

This campaign is verified by the Butterfly Effect Project. Click here, find the "Verified Campaigns" tab, and check line #947.

Abod is 34 years old, and lives in Al Maghazi camp in Gaza. He is raising money to evacuate himself, his wife Aya, his daughter Leen, his parents, and one of his brothers. Leen was born premature and needs special care. His mother has blood cancer, his father uses a colostomy bag, and his brother is diabetic. Abod is desperate to leave Gaza and build a better life for his family elsewhere.

Abod's life is extremely dangerous. Something I especially want to highlight is the condition of his house. He lives on the top floor of his building, which has no doors and is missing walls. Thin blankets are the only thing separating him and his family from the elements, and the occupation's ammunition.

His daughter Leen just turned one on September 2nd, and she's able to crawl around more every day. What should be an exciting milestone also comes with a lot of dread. Abod has built barriers around the house to try and prevent Leen from crawling where it's most dangerous, but anyone who has young children knows it can be difficult to keep them out of trouble. Parents should not have to worry about their baby falling off the edge of their house, three stories to the ground below. Yet, this is just another everyday terror for Abod and Aya.

Abod and my husband are very close. They talk for hours every single day, sharing their hopes and fears with each other. A couple of weeks ago, gfm flagged Abod's campaign for verification, something you have probably seen happen to a lot of Gazan campaigns (this often leads to them being arbitrarily shut down). My husband assisted Abod with gfm's intense verification process, and thankfully it was successful. His campaign is also finally connected to a friend's bank account so he can receive funds.

Abod's campaign has not received much attention since it was created in June, and donations have been very slow. Abod does not have much hope for his campaign's success. Please help my husband and I prove him wrong.

He has only reached €7,860 of his €30,000 goal

Please share this post, and give generously and consistently to Abod's campaign. Even small donations add up quickly, so please don't hesitate!

I'm mailing mystery prints to anyone in the US who gives at least $10 (or the euro equivalent), and if you donate any amount and send me an email, I'll send you some comic PDFs (more info here).

Thank you for reading. Here is a video of Leen and her grandfather's cat :-)

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

[ughdontbeboring]

only you.

Thor x WoC reader

reader comes home a little tipsy and Thor has to remind her, she’s the ONE.

Warnings: Slightly smutty? Insecurities, Thor is that man. Reader is tipsy but she’s totally ok with her man dickin her down.

note: this is my big story back, I don’t think I’ve posted in like a year? not sure, also this is super rushed so not super proud but I had to get it out my head. Also there’s going to be an alternative version of this because I couldn’t decide how I wanted this to go. That will be posted in a week or 2. I have a hard time writing Thor idk way, he’s one of my favs but such a complex character I think. Also only one mention of readers complexion but can be read by anyone.

don’t give permission for my works to be used in any form. If you likes it reblog, share it, love it all that good shit.

⚡️

He watched her as she stumbled slightly in her high heels to where he laid in their bed. How she had managed a whole night out with Val, Natasha and the other women in those things he’d never understand. She made it look so effortless, the way her hips and loose hem of her mini dress swayed with every step she took. Women were definitely magical creatures. His heart thumped against his ribs a little harder as he watched his lovely little woman approach. 

Even in the low lit room mostly covered in darkness he could make out every detail of her, maybe it had nothing to do with the ability to see as much as it did with the fact that he had memorized every part of her years ago. 

She was wearing a brown chain mail dress as she called it, her hair down and loose, very little makeup and matching high heels. How Thor had allowed her to leave him without taking her on sight, he could only make sense in her power over him. What she promised when she returned to him that night if he allowed her to leave unscathed by his need.

She stood at the side of the bed with her arms cross her chest, a slight frown on her beautiful face as she stared down at him. Thor lay slightly sitting up against the reinforced headboard. 

“What is wrong my love” He questioned up at her with genuine curiosity though he had a sneaky suspicion of what kind of mood she may be in. Even if she didn’t admit it, he was sure he knew what she’d need tonight. 

“I-you-“ She started before being cut off by her own hiccup.

“Do you need water little one?” 

“Yes, No! I- no listen” she started again before her voice drifted off and her eyes started to shift lower along his naked chest and torso before landing on the thin cool sheet that hardly did anything to cover his muscler thighs and slightly soft cock. 

She bit back a moan as Thor watched her pretty thick brown thighs clench within arms reach of him. His stomach fluttered slightly at the scene before him and at the sweet scent that started to fill the room. 

She seemed to focus on something she wanted to say to him before squaring her shoulders.

“Did-uh did you love that one uh barmaid on that planet..uh the..-“ she started determinedly as her buzzed mind would allow, her eyes rolling up as she tried to remember. 

“No” Thor answered swiftly and honestly as he cut her off. He was so sure it almost made her angry at him and it annoyed her more because it’s not even something to be upset about she should be happy he seemed so sure but her tipsy mind wasn’t fully on track yet.

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at him. 

“Wait, you didn’t let me fisnish you-you don’t know which one-“

But Thor was quick as he pulled her over his lap and into the empty space next to him, his large body quickly finding his place between her soft thick thighs. 

They both let a groan slip as their bodies came in contact. Thor’s bare cock between their bodies, laid snuggly against her panty covered cunt. The wet patch his veiny shaft rocked up and over making him groan. 

“It does not matter, I’ve loved none of them” he spoke truthfully again without hesitation, one arm holding him up as his eyes followed the moment of his cock. 

She felt like her world as spinning as she looked up at him. She knew she shouldn’t have but the mention of significant others, their ex’s and flings left her mind to wonder too much about Thor’s long life. It was something she really never let herself focus on in the few years they’d been together. But even the girls night out and plenty of shots couldn’t shake her mind from Thor’s earlier comment in front of everyone, about a planet so bizarre, it led to the new information of a one night stand. 

“Not even, not even, that one Loki said uh the” she tried. Remembering when she first met Loki, he had tested her by trying to rile her up with talk of Thor’s past lovers. Only to apologize shortly after when he realized for himself she was the one, the only one for his brother. But now that information did nothing for her jealousy. 

“No” was Thor’s firm answer as his body slowly rocked into hers harder. His deep eyes raking over her. She looked like a vision. Her hair all around her surrounding her head like an halo, breast basically coming out of her dress from the lack of a bra. Her chest heaving. She was an Angel, Thor was sure the only one in all the universe and she was his. 

“Thor! You’re not letting me finish!” She kicked her feet very childishly causing Thor to bite his lip to stop from laughing as he stared down at her. Nothing but amusement and love in this bright blue and brown eyes. “Ok the one from-“

“No. No. No and no, little dove the answer to that question will always be no” he said cutting her off again. 

His large hand grips her face, as the other continued to hold himself above her, as she stares up at him completely doe eyed and utterly in love despite her little outburst. He loved her all ways but this way, so open and so needy was one of his favorites, his cock twitched and thicken at the sight and feel of having her fully willing for anything he’d do beneath him. 

“Little queen, it matters not who you mention, who anyone could mention from over the centuries of my life. I have loved none of them, even when I thought it could be love you’ve came into my life and shown me how foolish of a God I was to ever consider that love” he spoke truthfully. 

The tears swelled in her eyes as she took him in, her fingers dancing all over his face before tracing her thumb along his bottom lip before he started to speak again. 

“Because in all these centuries, in all the galaxies, in all the universe I have ever only loved you, I could never have loved another, not when your love exist and even in death it could not fade” 

“Thor-“ she sobbed lightly. 

“Shhh little queen, I know, let me remind you there is only you for me, there is only we” Thor spoke against her fingertips, before sucking her thumb softly into his wet mouth and rolling his hips into her. She moaned at the contact of skin to skin, she hadn’t even notice Thor rip her thong, his veiny cock pushing up along her bare wet cunt. 

“I am yours completely” Thor said before he swiftly buried his thick cock in her til the hilt, her eyes rolled back as her loud gasped filled the quiet room. 

[radioisntdead]

Hey could I request a scenario where the reader is Alastor's niece and the vees have a crush and alastor's reaction to finding out as well as the Vees. Honeslty if you have it where he beats up basically goes ha no for Vals part and beats him up I'd love that

Good evening my dear after writing I'm realizing you may have meant for them to be separate categories but I went love square [???]

Warnings!!

Valentino, the Vee's being weird, OOC, Vox being a voyeuristic creep, reader has deer features

You know after aiding your favorite [and only] uncle in murder and falling to hell while your mother and grandma ascended above, having a trio of overlords falling head over heels for you was NOT on your bingo card.

You didn't notice them having a crush on you until Auntie Rosie pointed it out when Velvette had a large shipment of not only clothing mailed to you but with flowers, Vox had sent electronics and more flowers [that Alastor would have such joy destroying] and Valentino had sent you erotica.

Classy.

Velvette would be the most aggressive in getting your attention, she probably also has the biggest chance to win over your affections, shoving people out of the way to talk to you, affectionately calling you things, giving you a new woredrob every other week, flowers, personally inviting you to her fashion shows and giving you VIP seating.

Vox watches you, I imagine you at least have a phone probably not Voxtech though so I imagine it's probably slightly harder to watch you through that, but with drones and other devices he watches, probably calls you something like Doe-eyes or Dollface, he's called you mini Alastor a couple of times which you did NOT APPRECIATE, once he realizes that Alastor keeps destroying the technology he sends you he switches to flowers, with cameras in them, he sometimes teleports through them and is often met with you swinging something at him and breaking his screen, unfortunately for you he's into that.

Valentino, arguably the WORST one to have pinning over you, dude manages to pop out at the worst times offering to make you a star, asking you to warm his bedroom, uncomfortably leaning in and touching you.

You ripped off his antenna.

The three of them bicker over you in private.

Now after you figured out WHY they were sending you shit and giving you special privileges you immediately snitched to Uncle Alastor because you did NOT want to deal with the whole dumpster fire that was the Vees.

Now Alastor wasn't naive about the Vee's... Affections towards you, again they sent you a concerning amount of things, but he didn't do anything because you're an adult and you can make your own decisions.

But when you come to him saying that Valentino sent you erotica and made you uncomfortable?

Well you are his one and only niece! The only family he has down here! The least he can do is squish a little purple moth for you!

You wonder if restraining orders were a thing in hell and if they'd work.

Now the TV guy and fashionista surprisingly were NOT completely thrown off by their buddy's screams getting absolutely blasted on Alastor's radio broadcast, they kept their simping to a more low-key level with only flowers getting shipped to you from Velvette and weird love emails from Vox.

Vox for some reason thinks asking Alastor for your hand in MARRIAGE, was a good idea.

It was NOT.

He's lucky he didn't meet the same fate as Valentino.

Maybe one day you'd choose one of the remaining Vee's or both if you're into that, or maybe neither.

But for now you'd use their infatuation with you to your advantage.

Good evening folks! I hope you enjoyed and I think it's probably obvious at this point that Velvette is my favorite out of the Vee's.

Am I ever going to write a fic where Valentino isn't injured or straight up dead in some way? No, no I'm not.

Anyways as always thank you for tuning in!

[youre-ackermine]

Do you believe in God, Val?

Dear anon, you ask me about a tricky subject to discuss & I hope I won’t hurt anyone’s feelings or beliefs in my reply… This is my personal point of view about God, everyone is free to disagree, but any hater’s aggressive comment will be deleted.

I was raised in a pious catholic family, but I have always practiced religion  more as a tradition than as a true faith. Growing up, I gradually gave up. Well, I don’t believe in God strictly speaking, but I think there is some universal energy out here that we can rely on. I practice reiki for instance, within my intimate circle of family and friends.

I also believe in the power of the human mind, which is capable of creating well-being or its opposite, of bringing relief & comfort as well as angst. I wanted to become a psychologist, but for several reasons I could not achieve my goal.

As a conclusion, maybe believing in God might have soothed me from angst & mental suffering, but I can’t force myself to have faith in God. The very idea of someone or something driving  my life beforehand is unbearable to me.

Freedom and free will are very important to me, even if it means making mistakes. Life is not a long quiet river, but somehow I manage to live a good life 😌

Have a nice day, dear anon !

[signedkoko]

i want to request you headcanon when Y/N is manipulated by a demon hostile to Vox (which may not be Alastor) to try to physically harm Vox against Y/N's will.

I'm sorry if my sentence has something wrong (_ _;)　

i'm Japanese so i don't have enough English skill

Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which a demon manipulates you into trying to harm Vox. Reader is genderneutral.

Warnings - Attempted drugging | Vox yells at you for a bit </3

You've been together for many years now, long since you shared vows and became a celebrity couple all of hell wish they could be

You'd developed a schedule together, waking up in each other's arms, taking turns cooking meals, and planning your next date night, vacation, outing, whatever distracted you both from the work ahead of you

Many people came and went in either of your lives—too many to track—so you came to trust those closest to you

Velvette and Valentino never went; the three Vees flourished while you watched, one of the many moving parts of the machine that pulled their franchise above all others

Neither of you would have expected it to be someone so close to you trying to ruin it all

Valentino had many people come and go in his romantic life, but only one returned again and again, no matter how much you and Vox hated him: Dia

He was Valentino's assistant, one that was obsessive—you knew it was unhealthy, but Valentino liked that sort of thing, so you stayed out of it

Every time you spoke to Dia, they always got too close, too personal, asked you if you were cheating on Vox, if you wanted Val, and if you'd ruin his relationship

It always escalated from there, so you avoided them

But obsessiveness doesn't go away so easily, and being Valentino's personal toy meant they had all the drugs they could ever want on hand

Even the kinds only demonic princes could handle

" Oh! Hey! "

Dia called out to you one evening as you were just entering the building, home from running some errands

They handed you a gift box, seemingly in a rush

" Val says its for Vox! "

Your curiosity was piqued, but you knew better than to go snooping into anything Val did

So you did as per with any mail and sat it on Vox's desk since he was out

His office was on a separate floor from where you lived, but you knew he was more likely to get more work done before coming to see you

Hours later, while cleaning up from a hobby of yours, Vox slammed into the house, startling you to the point where you dropped your things

" Did you think that was funny? I could have died! What the hell is wrong with you!? "

You were so caught off guard by his screaming that you were completely silent

" Had my auto scanners not gone off, I would have eaten that; it would have melted me from the inside out! Are you crazy??? "

" Vox please! What are you talking about? "

" I already saw the footage of you putting this shit in my office; you put your name on the tag and everything! The chocolates? "

" Chocolates...? "

You managed to connect the dots, covering your mouth

" Check the lobby footage, 1:20 pm-ish, please Vox! "

When he eventually rolled it back, he was just as frustrated

Hes a swearing mess for a moment, until he apologetically pulls you into him

He feels absolutely horrible; of course you wouldn't do that to him- hell, how would you even get your hands on hydrofluoric acid?

But as the guilt subsides with your comforts, he becomes more than frustrated

Fuck, he's absolutely livid

Not only did they almost kill him, but Dia tried to frame you

He can't imagine what might have happened to you had they been successful

" Stay home and don't let anyone in. I think it's about time Val gets a new side bitch. "

Author's Note - I hope I understood your request well! My requests were closed when you sent this in, but I liked the prompt a lot so I'll let it slide this once... Thank you 🖤

[weebsinstash]

ever since u said vals sort of a cuck whenever i see that hotel chair meme i think of him. its CRAZY

NO but ACTUALLY THOUGH! That meme had been absolutely RUINED for me now!

Valentino is like. Such a weird spot you know? Because he's canonically possessive as fuck, but he also objectifies, like... everyone. Like, I mean, since I have a prime account I don't know what the pirating scene for Hazbin is which is why I've been reblogging and linking clips for you guys, but like... Val will literally be rapid cycling like actually potentially fucking manic or just drug related emotional dysregulation

like have you guys heard his fucking voice-mails like the canonical voicemails he will leave on Angel's phone????

The clip ends too fucking early but Valentino's final voicemail is him literally saying "do you really think an addict whore like you is worth loving?" and it fucks Angel up emotionally and makes him depressed

Valentino will watch you get fucked by other people BUT it has to be completely with his consent and on his terms or else it's like you're being STOLEN from him, you're being DIRTIED. For you to fuck someone else without his permission, to put it crassly, is like his personal sex toy being used by a completely random who-knows-how-unwashed person who puts it back in his belongings without washing it first like EW NO GO AWAY he practically shoves you into a decontamination bath

Like yandere or at least possessive Valentino is over here "ummm hmmmyeah Angie sweetie baby, I need you toooooooo get raw dogged by this group of drug smugglers so I can get a discount on coke. Wait, what's my baby doing over there? Is she KISSING someone?! Bitch YOU KNOW you have to get TESTED now, get your ASS over here or I'll kill that guy's entire family!!!" and he treats you like a leper the entire trip to his private doctor because I'm sure the Vs have some rich concierge doctor shit going on

[1000dactyls]

I wanna know if you have any thoughts on Valka and Sroicks parenting and how that affects hiccup? Because I'm loving so much of your content rn, especially your drawings!! But when I see stuff like Tgirl Hiccup while I think they would be supportive, I don't think they would be ... the best because their not really the best. Like ofc they tried even Val when she came back, but it doesn't and won't ever make up for everything else it's so complicated, and nuisanced would love to hear your thoughts!!

Im going to break this post into addressing stoick and valka separately because valka is such a non-entity in hiccup and stoick’s familial life. valka’s section will be underneath the ‘read more’

But I definitely agree! Unfortunately for Hiccup (and also not to project ijbol), it’s so hard because stoick’s best isn’t enough. Oh, stoick tries! He tries so hard — between the movies and the shows, he so clearly cares for his son. But he can never be just Hiccup’s dad; Stoick is the Chief of Berk before he’s Hiccup’s father, and both he and Hiccup know that. Hiccup grows up self sufficient and is used to a lonely home. The kind of free reign that he gets (and the resulting knee-jerk reaction he has to any kind of responsibility after 15 years of said free reign) doesn’t make for great conditions to cultivate a healthy, loving, traditional parental relationship

Still — i think stoick is more supportive than we give him credit for, at least going off the RoB/DoB characterizations. (Again, I haven’t finished watching RTTE, so Im not gonna speak for anything there.) When Hiccup makes moves for more freedom and responsibility, even as early as s01e01 “How to Start a Dragon Academy”, Stoick works with Hiccup to grant him that freedom. He makes attempts to connect to his son, albeit misguided and inevitably circling back to his own interests/role as the chief of Berk and not just Hiccup’s dad. For example, s01e07 “How to Pick your Dragon” shows Stoick ending up listening to Hiccup about getting a dragon, even though he mostly gets a dragon because it further suits his interests as a chief, which he realizes on the flight Toothless and Hiccup take him on. Which also leads to the core conflict of the episode! Because Stoick’s attempts to understand Hiccup are ultimately rooted in his own narrow perception of the world, that there is a Right way and Wrong way to do things, and Hiccup’s way is most definitely not the right way.

But Stoick listens. Over time, he picks up the signs when his child is frustrated and genuinely asks how he can help (s02e15 “A Tale of Two Dragons” 3 options talk). And after the events of the first movie, Stoick makes more attempts to involve Hiccup in his going-ons, such as the portrait of the chief’s family or contacting Johann to find a beloved childhood plushie. So i think stoick tries, and his best isn’t enough, so thank god hiccup isn’t dependent on only stoick and the both of them know this. And just because the both of them know this doesn’t mean that stoick doesn’t try to improve their relationship at all. In the end, he’s just really set in his own ways and his own traditions.

So in a world where Hiccup is trans, I do think Stoick is supportive no matter what direction Hiccup ends up going. Is he confused? Yes, always, because there isn’t a very established tradition even if Berk does have a history of trans folk. I think stoick has to try really really hard, and he messes up a lot in the beginning. Like, you know when your parents are trans affirming in a really weird and even insulting way? That happens a lot for Hiccup and Stoick. But they work together and Stoick works to try and get on Hiccup’s level, whether that means sending terror-mail to Johann to inquire about trans literature or gender-affirming clothes or dialing Gothi to move Hiccup’s t/e prescription to the front of the line.

……..argh, Valka.

Of course Valka tried when she came back, but the conscious decision to stay away for twenty years and miss some of the most important milestones in your child’s life says a lot, and I think Hiccup also knows that. Especially because of how similar they are, even though Valka would immediately accept and adore and absolutely love Hiccup and all his Hiccup-ness right off the bat… I think he’s aware of how different and better his life could’ve been with Valka’s understanding presence. In the end, one parent stayed and tried their best. And one didn’t really try at all, not until they reconnected again.

And like! I dont think Valka and Hiccup would ever be as close as Stoick and Hiccup were. Like it is one thing to idolize your parent in absentia and build up this idealistic wholesome perfect image of who they are, getting your characterization from their partner who never got over them even after 20 years. And it is another thing to meet that parent and realize… wow! They also don’t measure up to what I needed them to be as a child.

And so for all of Valka’s understanding, for all of the easiness it is for Valka to understand Hiccup, especially in a world where Hiccup is trans — it’s not Valka who had to deal with the bureaucracy of Hiccup’s gender change, nor aided in the social transition for people Hiccup has spent his entire life with. It’s not Valka who asked uncertain, blunt and somewhat invasive questions about Hiccup’s new identity, or found weird and strange ways to support it. It’s not Valka who would’ve gotten an entirely new wardrobe commissioned or talked to Gothi about medical transition.

Like, I think Valka tries, and it’s easy for her to understand the idea and support Hiccup. But i dont think she’d ever be Hiccup’s first choice when it comes to questions about who s/he is, not when there are people who stayed and tried much harder than her, and know far more about Hiccup than she ever did and maybe will.

[blakelysco-pilot]

The Trees Keep Growing

From the Love Letter Series

Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)

All’s fair in love and war. When Croz is out for the count, Rosie is left to navigate D-Day without his best friend. While things are changing rapidly in East Anglia and in the course of the war, the same could be said for Jo back home. While Rosie has Harry Crosby by his side, Jo is never far fromJean Crosby. The pair embark on a new adventure that leaves their respective airmen both baffled and impressed. Who says that the boys are the only ones who can be part of the war effort?

Read part 6 Here Follow along with the Love Letters Playlist

Spring had turned to summer at Thorpe Abbotts and with the time that passed since Rosie’s reenlistment, he found himself struggling. He would often contemplate whether he had made the right decision in staying when his entire crew had taken their ticket home. Back to safety, their families, their wives and sweethearts; they had gone back to someplace that brought happiness. Rosie would often need to conjure up a vision of happiness in his mind in order to even feel a single ray of it some days. Despite having friends on base, it sometimes stung a bit more than he wanted to admit that he felt guilt after the fact. Guilt for not following his crew, guilt for not going home to his worried Ma, and most of all he felt the guilt that came with knowing he was keeping Jo waiting longer than she should have. He thanked whoever was up there watching over him that he had found love in a woman who remained waiting, but he hated that he was making her do it. 

Thankful that she had found sisterhood with Jean and now, Juliet, he knew she was doing what she could to stay occupied, however he wondered how long she could remain occupied with simply afternoons with Jean or lunch with his mother. He could tell in her last few letters that she desired more- more excitement in her life, more adventure, and he knew that if he had taken the ticket home, he’d have been able to do that for her by now. Instead, he remained here, fighting with the others who either hadn’t made the required mission count,or were also devout to stay and finish the fight. 

He found a brother in Croz, who’s own wife was also at home waiting, and friends in Ev Blakely and James Douglass. The four of them, all newly promoted Majors, stuck close to each other. All part of what was now considered the Old Regime, along with Jack Kidd, they kept the 100th breathing. The Red Cross girls were there every morning with fresh coffee and donuts and smiles on their faces, but Rosie had begun to notice that they didn’t joke with the new fellas the way they used to with the original airmen. Most of their friends had either died or were being held in the Stalag, and outside of him and the Majors, the girls stayed clear of creating friendships with replacements. He couldn’t say he blamed them. Val had been an immediate sense of home for him when they met so many months ago; her Brooklyn accent and bright smile set him at ease that first night in the officers club, and because of her closeness with the others, he and his original crew had been welcomed into that fold with open arms. He was thankful for that familial bond that was created amongst friends, but now he was ready to bring all of that back home and carry on with his friends with Jo by his side. 

Things were changing, and fast. He knew that with the invasion of Western Europe on the horizon they would either be close to the end of the war, or prolonging it even further, but what he hadn’t counted on  realized how fast things at home were changing as well. When Croz came bursting through the door of the office he shared with Blakely, mail in hand, and running on fumes and no sleep, he had assumed something big was percolating in the Operations office.  

“Christ, Croz, where’s the fire?” Blakely mumbled, cigarette wedged between his lips, barely looking up from the papers on his desk. 

“Mail call fellas!” He frantically waved the envelopes in his hand, gesturing to Rosie with a nod of his head and a smile. 

“Do you ever sleep, or are you taking on a job with APO too?” Rosie joked, snatching the letter from his friend and immediately smiling as he saw Jo’s perfect cursive on the envelope. 

“Just doing Tattie a favor,” Croz rolled his eyes, dropping the envelope for Blakely on his desk next to his coffee. “Ev, one for you.”

“Thanks buddy.” Ev waved him off, again, not looking up. 

Rosie nodded, retreating to his desk with the envelope in hand and a smile on his face. Without waiting for the other two men to open theirs, or offer their privacy, he tore into the seal of the envelope and pulled out Jo’s letter. 

The paper smelled faintly of her perfume, a fresh floral scent that immediately brought a smile to his face. Eyes closed, he lifted the paper to his nose and gently inhaled, letting the scent of her take him back. Back home, to safety, to happiness, to her. Unfolding the paper, before he could even read a single line, a small square photograph fell out and onto the desk. It was face down, and he noticed she had written on the back Jean and I at Coney Island. Flipping it over, there was a photo of Jo, and Jean Crosby, standing in front of The Cyclone. Their sunglasses were shielding their eyes, but their smiles were bright. His Jo, the smile on her face, and Jean standing where he felt he should have been. Or, that he and Croz should have been there with them together. 

“Croz, c’mere!” He looked up from the photograph, but was met with the retreating form of Harry as he exited the room, the door slamming shut behind him. 

“He’s a mess,” Blakely groaned, his own mail still in the envelope on his desk. “Whatcha got there?”

Rosie handed over the small photo to Blakely, the pilot careful not to get too close with his cigarette, let it rest in the ashtray on his desk before bringing the picture closer so he could get a good look. 

“Is that Coney Island?” He looked over at Rosie, one side of his mouth curved in a half smile. 

“Yea, usually we go every year and I drag her on the Cyclone with me.”

“Jeez Rosie, you take that poor girl on that thing?”

“I think she secretly enjoys it,” Rosie laughed. “Otherwise she’d have put her foot down a long time ago. Or my mother would have given me a smack.”

“Val says that thing is scary,” Blakely laughed, handing the photo back to Rosie. “Said Curt used to drag her on it when they were kids.”

“From what she’s told me about him, that sounds about right.” Rosie laughed, turning back around in his seat so that he could dive into his letter from Jo. 

My dearest Robbie,

It’s summer in New York, and I miss you terribly. I have some exciting news, though, and I do hope you haven’t already heard it from Harry- par for the course though if you have, since I heard your big news from Pappy. I’ve taken on a job with Jean at the War Department in the city, working on the switchboard! And will be moving in with Jean until you and Harry return. Though, by the time you get this letter I’ll probably have already started working and will be moved into the Crosby home. My father put up a bit of a fight, but in the end, I’m not sure I need to tell you that he softened up and let me go. My mother won’t say how she did it, but I know she did something. 

Jean and I spent so often shuttling between her home and mine, it just made sense when she asked. Having someone to talk to at night who is going through the same things makes a world of difference, and I’m so glad I can be there for her. She’s been in their home now for over a year, all alone and I’m not quite sure how she managed. It will be nice to have a roommate, and if things work out, Juliet may be coming to spend some time with us this summer as well. Lord knows she’s missing John Brady terribly and could use the distraction now that school is out, so when Jean and I spoke with her last, we suggested a bit of a getaway for her. 

I quite like it in the city, Robbie, so you would not have to twist my arm much to move here once you return. We’d be much closer to our friends than if we stayed in Flatbush, though I fear our mothers would miss us terribly (even though we’d be a cab ride away). I am dreaming of those days, Robbie. I pray this war is over soon so that we can begin again as we were meant to. 

I know I said it before, but I do miss you, so much my darling. Summer days are bright, and warm, but there’s such a din over each day that you’re not here. By now, we’d have been to Coney Island at least once, and you’d have taken me to ride the cyclone. Against my will, I might add! You’ll be happy to know that Jean and I rode it on our visit a few weeks ago and it’s still as frightening as ever. But the beach was wonderful, even if we only dipped our toes in the water, and the cotton candy was sweet. The only thing missing was you (and Harry). I hope that by the time next summer arrives, we can carry on as usual with our friends. I do hope you like the photograph I sent along- no need to fight Harry for it, Jean sent him the same. 

We also had Juliet with us on our day out, as well as a friend of hers from home, Ruthie. What a sweet girl she is, and I hope we get to see more of Ruthie over time. It’s very sweet that she and Jules remained friends from school until now. Have you had any word from John Brady and the rest of the fellas that are stranded? Juliet mentioned that her last letter from John had been a few weeks ago now- I can’t imagine the post is very reliable in Germany, especially where he is. I pray they all find their way home safely, and soon! 

Speaking of friends, Pappy wrote to me again. Much less frantic this time. It seems I’m not the only one missing you, though for different reasons entirely, my love. He wasn’t sure if he should write to you on base, assuming you’d be busy with your new crew, so he wanted to let me know he and the rest of the Riveters all arrived home safely, so I’m passing that news on to you. I think it would make Pappy’s day if you wrote to him when you had a moment. I’ve already done the same. 

How is your new crew doing? Have you been able to bond with them, or is it so entirely different from the boys? Your new copilot has big shoes to fill, in my opinion, and I know you’d never tell him that, but it’s true, Major. 

My darling, I’m counting the days until we’re together again, and praying that each time you’re up in the clouds you return safely. I fear that I may never recover should anything ever happen to you before I’ve had a chance to hold you in my arms again, and even then. Please, come home to me soon, Robbie. We have a life to start living together. 

Sending you all of my love, hugs and kisses. 

Your Jo

Rosie read the letter again before letting the paper fall to his desk. Leaning back in his chair, he scrubbed his hand over his face, feeling the effects of Jo’s words; her updates from home, stories of time spent with friends, and how much she missed him. The eager way she described wanting to begin their life always left him feeling an empty pit in his stomach, willing the days to pass him by so that he was closer to those promised days of dancing in the kitchen, building their life together. 

Letters from her always left him feeling a certain way about reenlisting, the guilt creeping into the edges of himself, telling him that he was stupid and could have been home with his girl by now. He would resolve to tell her in every letter, any chance he could, that he was fighting for her, for their future, and he would be home with her as soon as he could. He fought because he loved her, and needed to keep her safe. It was those words to her that would subsequently smother the guilt each and every time. 

“Rosie, you good?” 

Shaking his head, he turned to find Blakely staring at him, now finished reading his own letter, and he realized he must have lost himself in the moment. 

“I’m good,” He nodded. “Just….”

“Missing home?”

“Missing Jo.” Rosie sighed. 

“Figured as much. What’s going on back home? Anything exciting?” Blakely’s attempt to get him to talk about it was kind, and Rosie realized after a beat that his friend was asking because he cared. Because his Jo had become friends with Val, and they were now intertwined and would be far beyond the days of war. 

“Jo moved in with Jean,” Rosie laughed, watching as Blakely’s eyebrows shot up, a look of surprise on the pilot's face. “And they both took a job on the switchboard with the War Department.”

“Croz know this yet?” 

“I’m assuming it’s in the letter he got from Jean.”

“Give him a minute and he’ll be through the door like a bat out of hell.” Blakely shook his head, laughing. 

“Honestly, has he slept at all?”

“Can’t really say, but it’s grating on Doug’s nerves. Says he keeps making all these mysterious phone calls to someone called a Subaltern?”

“Not good,” Rosie shook his head, already knowing that Croz had something going on with a woman in London, but unsure if Everett and Douglass knew the same. “He’s gotta sleep, it’s been three days now, and we’re not getting through this if we don’t.” 

“We should send in the big guns.” Everett grinned a devilish grin, and Rosie knew he was thinking of something troublesome. 

“Pretty sure Jack would just drag him to his rack kicking and screaming.”

“Not Jack,” Ev shook his head. “Olive and Val.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“No, the uppers Smokey keeps giving him are a terrible idea.”

“Okay fair.” Rosie chuckled, but stopped as Jack Kidd’s voice rang out through the Operations office, the Air Exec sounding more panicked than he usually did. 

“That's not good…” Rosie groaned, standing from his desk and making a beeline for the door, Blakely hot on his heels. 

“Nope…”

As they emerged from the office, they were greeted by a crowd of people gathered in the middle of the room, Jack Kidd and Douglass crouched on the ground next to Harry Crosby, who was face down and passed out. 

“What happened!” Rosie called out, not wanting to crowd him more by joining them. 

“He was in my office, slurring about how he had more to do,” Jack sighed, standing to his full height. “Stumbled out after refusing to go to bed, and passed out.”

“You call Smokey?” Rosie looked at Jack, already knowing the answer. 

“Yea, said we need to let him sleep it off.”

“We?”

“Yes, so would you get him off the floor and into a jeep?”

Rosie exchanged a look with Blakely who turned to Douglass, the three of them silently arguing over who would be the ones to carry Harry Crosby out of the Operations office and outside to a jeep, and then, get him undressed and into bed. Jack sent all three of them, if only to get them out of his hair and stop the arguing. 

They were on the heels of D-Day and Croz was out for the count. 

——————————————

“What the hell happened to him!” 

The jeep rolled to a stop outside the Officers Hut, Rosie behind the wheel while Douglass tried his best in the back to keep Croz from falling over onto him. Tattie and Helen were walking past with a stack of mail from APO when the boys approached the hut, eyes wide as they saw Harry slumped over. 

“Stupid son of a bitch passed out.” Dougie groaned, pushing him off his shoulder again as Rosie hopped out of the jeep and around to the back to help him. The pair of them lifted Croz from the jeep, Rosie holding his ankles while Doug held under his arms. 

“Jesus Christ,” Tattie groaned, moving to pull the door open for them. “You need me to get Smokey?”

“No, Smokey said he’s gotta sleep it off.”

“Does one usually sleep off a coma?” Helen followed the boys into the hut, knowing no one was in there at the moment, and also that neither Rosie or Douglass were going to get Harry out of his uniform and into bed properly. 

“Helen, you shouldn’t be in here,” Rosie turned to her. “We can get him sorted out.”

“You’re going to take his clothes off, Rosie? Douglass?” She fixed them both with a look that had Tattie following her inside, the pair of them quickly shooing the boys out of their way as they made quick work of getting Harry out of his uniform and under the covers. 

“Go on, we can sit with him for a bit.” Tattie ushered them out of the way and towards the door of the hut, a stern look on her face. 

“Tattie, we can’t leave you girls in here.”

“Then someone better go tell Colonel Bennett that Croz is half dead and you two can’t keep an eye on him.” Her arms were crossed over her chest and her eyebrow was raised so far it almost disappeared into her hairline. Rosie knew that arguing with Tattie, head of the Thorpe Abbotts  Red Cross girls was never a good idea, but now, they were being given orders from Tattie Spaatz, General’s daughter. 

“We’ll let him know.” Rosie sighed, taking Doug by the elbow and leading him out of the hut.

“Good,” Tattie nodded, pulling up a chair from one of the desks in the hut next to Harry’s bed and promptly taking a seat. “Might be best to put an MP somewhere to let guys coming in and out of here know I’m here.”

“Noted, Tat… thanks for staying with him.”

“Of course,” Her face softened to a smile, and Rosie knew that Harry was in good hands. “This son of a bitch better wake up soon or he’s going to miss all the action.”

“You ain’t kiddin!” Doug crowed as he followed Rosie outside and back to the jeep. 

Once outside, Rosie stopped to actually take stock of everything in the last half hour, and he couldn’t stop himself when he started laughing. Elbows resting on the side of the jeep, he let himself have a good, long laugh; something he hadn’t had done since Pappy and the boys all left for home. Something he didn’t think he could do without his friends, until suddenly he realized, he was still with his friends. 

“I can’t believe he passed out…”

“This is going to spread like wildfire,” Doug shook his head, lighting a cigarette amidst his own laughter. “Harry Crosby, greatest navigator, passed out in the Ops office.”

“The greatest navigator was just put to bed by Tattie Spaatz.” Rosie added, trying to calm himself before they went back to their offices. 

“Now that is funny,” Doug barked out a laugh. 

Rosie spent the next two days juggling the invasion of Western Europe both on the ground and in the skies, and sitting with Harry while he remained asleep. They had all taken turns watching over him, especially when Rosie had to fly, so the Red Cross girls would slip into the unoccupied Officers Hut and sit by him, waiting for any signs that he may be coming back into the conscious world. It was Saturday morning when Rosie had woken, and looking over to the rack next to his, saw that Harry was still asleep. He went about getting showered and dressed, and slipped out to the Clubmobile for a quick coffee from the girls. 

He found Val and Olive at the window, Meatball tied to the pole outside. The husky perked up immediately upon seeing him, and Rosie stopped to shower him with affection before carrying on with his morning. 

“Hey Meatball, hey pal, yea you having a good morning buddy? I bet you are, soaking up all this sunshine and hanging out with the ladies.”

“Oh he’s quite the ladies man,” Val called out to him, and when he looked up he could already see her preparing him a cup of coffee. “Not sure what he’s going to do when DeMarco comes back.”

“Howl and complain about it for a bit I’d imagine.” Rosie chuckled, standing and crossing the distance to the window of the Clubmobile. 

“Morning, Rosie.” Val smiled, handing him the coffee and a newspaper that he hadn’t asked for, but was grateful for regardless. 

“Heya Val,” He nodded. “Thanks for the paper.”

“Figured you’d need something to read while you’re sitting with Sleeping Beauty.” She rolled her eyes good naturedly. 

“Thanks, I’ll get to it after I write Jo. I owe her a letter. She wrote before D-Day and with everything going on here, I haven’t had a spare minute.”

“Rosie…” She fixed him with a look. “Don’t leave that sweet girl waiting for you any longer, I’m sure she’s worried. They’ve been reporting on the invasion back home round the clock, so I’m sure she’s heard enough of the news by now.”

“Yea,” He sighed, knowing Jo was probably worried sick.  “I ought to write to Jean too, and let her know that her husband slept through the invasion.”

“I’ll take care of that. You worry about Jo, yea?”

“Yea, thanks Val.”

“What are friends for, if not to tell them your husband neglected to sleep and is now in a self inflicted coma.” She shrugged. 

“I’m starting to wonder if we should get Smokey to come look at him,” Rosie confessed. “This is three days now, and he hasn’t budged.”

“Give it till tonight,” She conceded. “If he hasn’t woken up, we can pop in on Ole Doc Stover and see what else we can do.”

Rosie made his way back to the Officers hut with a prayer in his head and a plan to put pen to paper and write to Jo. Val had been right, he was sure of it. News of the invasion had made its way to the states and was being reported round the clock; he should have realized sooner that she would be worried. Especially now with her new job, who knows what she was hearing as it passed through the switchboard, or as she walked through the halls of the War Department. 

I’m sorry for neglecting your letter for so long, my sweetheart…

__________________________________

The sun was still shining brightly by the time Jo and Jean got off the bus, another week of work at the War Department under their belts. When Jo had talked about getting a job, after Jean had offered her a room in her house, Jean had wasted no time in getting on board with her plan. Initially, Jo had wanted to contribute to living with Jean- even if it was just the occasional bill and some groceries. So the pair of them had settled into the most comfortable routine of living together, taking the bus to work in the morning, and then either having dinner at the Automat or picking up groceries to cook at home. At night they would listen to the radio, gossiping about the women who worked on the switchboard with them, or writing letters to Rosie and Harry. What had started out as a friendship forged between two women whose sweetheart and husband were stationed overseas together, had turned into a sisterhood. Quite frankly, Jo couldn’t picture not having Jean in her life; and it was only right that both Rosie and Harry, thick as thieves and best of friends in the Eighth Air Force, would come home to their sweethearts much the same.  

“Do you want to pick up dinner or do you feel up to cooking?” Jean asked as they walked up the block in the direction of their house. 

“What do we have in the icebox? Anything worth rushing home for?”

“We have that casserole Mrs. Rosenthal dropped off when she came by.”

“Oh Jean, that can’t still be good,” Jo scrunched up her face. “It’s Friday, no, let's pick up something at the Automat and bring it home.”

“You would have said that even if we had something worthwhile at home.” Jean teased, bumping her shoulder to Jo’s as they continued on past their block to where the Automat was. 

“Who wants to cook on a Friday!” 

By the time the pair returned home, dinner in hand, the sky was just beginning to turn that delightful golden color that only comes with warm summer nights and clear skies. It wasn’t late, not by any means, and so once in the house, Jean had set to making them both a cocktail while Jo sorted through the mail before dinner. It was a simple routine, but one that kept the pair of them happy given the circumstances. From the kitchen, Jo could hear the methodical clanging of the shaker as Jean measured and poured, the telltale sound of her stocking feet padding back into the kitchen to retrieve the olives that they kept in the cooler. 

“Almost forgot!” Jean victoriously held up the jar before retreating back to the living room. 

As Jean began vigorously shaking the martini’s she had prepared, Jo picked up the stack of mail that had been on the floor, on the other side of the front door, when they got home, and began shuffling through the envelopes and catalogs. Woolworths, Macys, the electric company, ahh, there it was, letters from Thorpe Abbotts! 

“Mail call!” Jo hollered with her head sticking out of the entrance to the kitchen, the young woman jumping back as Jean rounded the corner with two glasses in hand. 

“Oh lovely,” She passed one off to Jo before moving further into the kitchen to sit down at the table. “I love when there’s mail from the boys!”

“Me too,” Jo took the seat opposite her, glass next to her on the table, she pushed the miscellaneous mail off to the side, and kept the small stack of letters in front of her to dole out appropriately. “Let’s see, one from Major Crosby, for Missus Crosby.”

“Josephine!”

“What, I know you sign your letters from Mrs. Jean Crosby.”

“Go on, what else have we got there?” She rolled her eyes,taking a sip of her drink. 

“Hmm, oh, from Val to Jean!”

“Oh, how sweet of her!” Jean smiled, accepting the two envelopes from Jo. “Is there mail from Rosie as well?”

“Yes,” Jo sighed in relief at seeing his penmanship scrawled across the envelope. “And one from Juliet for the both of us.”

“We can read that one together,” Jean nodded. “Come on, let’s get dinner on the table and we can tear into these letters.” 

They made quick work of getting dinner out of the takeaway bag and onto plates, moving with a bit more haste than they might after a week of work. Anxious to hear from both of their boys, the club sandwiches and french fries were plated almost haphazardly before they were back in their seats. The sandwiches remained untouched, but the french fries were picked over slowly, one by one, as their mail was devoured in place of the main course. 

My dearest Jo, 

Sweetheart, I’m sorry for not writing sooner. I fear I neglected your latest letter far too long with all that was going on over here in the last weeks. I’m sure by now the news of D-Day has reached the reporters back home and you’ve heard it told over and over on the radio. Before you worry too much, I promise you I am fine, and unscathed from my flights during that day. The crews that we trained, and all of the planning and maps that took up days and nights, did not go without success. Things here seem to be shifting in our favor and I am feeling good about it. We all are. A lot of the new fellas celebrated the invasion in the Officers Club, but I chose to stick close to my regular crew of friends. We found a quiet spot out on the airfield and had a toast- it felt bittersweet to be celebrating such a big accomplishment with so many of the boys who helped get us there, trapped in Germany, or worse, not with us any longer. 

Speaking of those not here, I wrote to Pappy after hearing that he had written to you. He’s good in that way- now that he’s home he will probably continue to write to you, if only to make sure you have a friend other than Jean and myself. I’m sure he’s happy to be back home with his family, but I’d be remiss to say you were right, and no one could fill his shoes in my Co-Pilot’s seat. If anything, I laugh a bit less when I’m up in the air, because he always had some kind of witty remark. 

Rest assured, I do laugh, though not the way I’ve spent many a day doing with you. I feel bad for saying I had a good laugh at Harry’s expense, but rest assured he’s alright now. Our friend got a bit too invested and determined in the planning leading up to the invasion, and thought he could go three days without sleep. He was surviving on copious amounts of caffeine and uppers from the med hut until it was just too much. Harry collapsed, face first, in the middle of the Operations office. Surrounded by everyone in there, Douglass and I had to carry him out and into a jeep. The whole ride back to our hut, Douglass kept Harry from toppling over onto him, until we finally hauled him into bed. Thankfully, Helen and Tattie spared us having to get him, uh, changed for bed. Harry was out cold for three days- Val says it was a mini coma, but we’ll never know. Meatball spent three whole days curled up on the foot of Harry’s bed while we all rotated who sat with him. The girls were so good, and took shifts while the fellas and I continued working. If you’re wondering what caused me to laugh so hard, it was that our head navigator was stripped down to his skivvies and put to bed by General Spaatz’s daughter. Jean should have received a letter from Val letting her know Harry is alright but I didn’t want you hearing secondhand. 

Now, the most important part of this letter, darling, is to tell you that you looked absolutely stunning on your beach trip, and I will forever be remiss that I wasn’t there to see it in person. You rode the Cyclone without me? Jo, how did you ever let Jean talk you into that? You put up a fight when I do it! Did you girls ride any of the other attractions, or go into the fun house? I think that’s sweet that Juliet made the train ride into the city to spend a day with you girls. How did you get on with her friend Ruthie? If she’s anything like Juliet, I’m sure you adored her just as much. I also want to hear all about your new job on the switchboard! What made you decide to go out and get a job? I’m so proud of you honey pie, and I bet you’re also having the time of your life living with Jean. I know you two enjoy spending time together, and I already told Croz, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together once we get home, simply because I believe you and Jean are already inseparable. 

Seeing you at the beach, it's made me miss you just so terribly, Jo. My days have been mountains of paperwork as of late, and the occasional flight. I don’t get up into the sky as much as I used to, which is both good and bad. It keeps me on the ground, being in Operations with the fellas, which I know you’re thrilled for because it keeps me safe. I am too, darling, because I promised you I’d come home to you safe and in one piece. I fully intend to keep that promise to you. But I can’t lie that I find a thrill with being up in the clouds, and I wish I could explain it better than that. It’s a thrill. Like when we ride the Cyclone and you scream your head off, and clutch my hand until I think you’re going to break it. You’re petrified every time we get on, but by the time we’re back on the ground you’re laughing like it’s the first time I took you on all over again. 

I miss that laugh, sweetheart. I wish I could have bottled it up and taken it with me over here. I doubt I would ever have a sad day on base if I could hear you laugh every day. I can admit to you that sometimes I feel a bit envious of guys like Blakely & Douglass who are so lucky to have their sweethearts here with them. I’ve seen them both have terrible days, reports on top of reports, and as soon as one of the girls pops into the office with coffee for everyone, their entire expression lightens up. While I take such comfort in knowing you’re 

home and safe, I do so wish I could spend my days with you, or at the very least my nights. Curled up in a big armchair in the Officers Club, sitting by the fire, a cocktail before bed and maybe a dance. I dream of being back at Minton’s with you, honey, and can’t wait to take you for a spin on that dance floor. Counting the days until we’re together again, Jo. Until we can have a place of our own, and everything you’ve ever dreamed of. I’ll make sure of it.  

All of my love, forever.

Your Robbie

Jo read the letter over again, eyes watering as they always seemed to do when she’d get a letter from Rosie. There was always something bittersweet in those letters; his constant declarations of love to her, and the anecdotes of life on base. She really felt for him this time, not ever realizing how difficult it had to be for him and Harry to see Douglass and Blakely with their sweethearts every day on base. To know that they were comforted in a way that Rosie was craving daily, but could not have because she was home in New York. It broke her heart more than she thought it already was broken with him so far away. 

When she looked over at Jean, she saw that she was wiping at her eyes, and just as she was about to ask what was wrong, she realized that her friend was laughing, the sound getting more and more hysterical as the seconds ticked by. 

“Jean? Are you alright?”

“He…oh my god!” She wheezed, wiping at her eyes. “Bing passed out and slept through the damn invasion!”

Jo immediately fell into her own fit of laughter, having wanted to chuckle when she read that in Rosie’s letter, but unsure if she should. 

“Robbie mentioned it in his letter…”

“Bing didn’t say a word! I had to find out from Val!”

“Did she mention that General Spaatz’s daughter stripped your husband to…to his… oh god, his skivvies and put him to bed because Robbie and Douglass couldn’t?”

“YES!” 

The pair of them were in stitches, wishing they could have been a fly on the wall to see Harry’s great fall, as Val had called it. She was sure he was too embarrassed to tell Jean himself, but you could always count on friends to tell you a good story and provide a good laugh. 

“Oh he must be so cross with himself!” Jo shook her head, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes as she righted herself. 

“From the sounds of it, he is, but the rest of the base had a good laugh at his expense.”

“I think deep down, Robbie felt bad for him.”

“Deep, deep down,” Jean shook her head. “The deep down part that wasn’t carrying my husband to bed.”

“Yes, that’s the part,” Jo nodded. “What else did Val have to say?”

“Oh, that was it. It was a quick letter, but she’s a pip that girl.”

“Oh?”

“She writes the way I imagine she’d speak…” Jean chuckled. “With an accent like yours but she talks a mile a minute.”

“Oh, I absolutely think the same thing!”

“Your husband passed out, and slept through the invasion, but oh your beach outfit was so cute!” Jean did what she assumed Valencia sounded like, and gave her Brooklyn accent the old college try. 

“Jean!”

“We’ll know what she sounds like when the war is over and she’s back home, but yes. I think she’ll sound a bit like you.”

“Have you read Harry’s letter?” Jo gestured, french fry in hand, to the other envelope on Jean’s side of the table. 

“Not yet,” Jean signed, and Jo knew she was worried it would be another letter of short sentences, without any of the love that he used to ensure she knew he felt. The war had stripped Harry of the things that filled him with compassion, and it was starting to break Jean down. “I’m almost scared to open it.”

“You shouldn’t be scared, Jean. He’s your husband and he loves you.”

“Lately, his letters don’t feel that way.”

“I know, honey, but he does love you. We have to remember that everyone is dealing with the war in their own way. He’s lost a lot while he’s been there.”

“Bubbles dying is what changed him,” Jean’s voice grew soft. “I can’t imagine that has been easy for him.”

“Go on,” Jo gently pushed the envelope closer to Jean’s waiting hand. “See what he has to say.”

Nodding, Jean quietly tore into the envelope before unfolding the sheet of paper containing Harry’s letter. She watched as her eyes scanned over the paper before suddenly lighting up, a bright smile coming to her face and a gasp filling the silence of the kitchen. 

“He’s coming home!”

“Oh! Jean, that's wonderful!”

“It’s only for four weeks, but he’s coming home!”

“Four weeks?”

“They’re giving him leave, he suspects it’s in part to his exhaustion.” 

“The man slept for three days straight, how can he still be tired?” Jo narrowed her eyes from behind her martini, causing Jean to laugh. 

“I’m not sure, but he’s supposed to arrive at the start of July.”

“That’s not far off, we’ll need to get you ready!”

“You’re not upset?” Jean suddenly looked at her, brows furrowed and eyes full of concern. 

“Upset? Why would I be upset? You get to see your husband, after him being gone for so long, Jean, that’s so wonderful.”

“I mean, that he’s getting leave and Rosie isn’t.”

“Robbie’s time will come,” Jo nodded. “Right now, they need him there, and if they need him on the ground, I feel a bit better knowing he’s there at least.”

“Safer on the ground,” Jean agreed. 

“I’m so thrilled for you and Harry, truly Jean.”

Jean reached across the table, her hand covering Jo’s and giving it a gentle squeeze. The girls shared a smile, both of them filled to the brim with emotions and excitement. Jean, at getting to see her husband again after so long, and knowing that Harry and Jo will finally get to meet face to face. Jo found solace in Rosie being safe once more, and even though he was sometimes buried under mountains of paperwork, she was happy that he was able to find his thrill in the sky when he could. A bit like riding the Cyclone, he had said, and she was starting to understand that analogy a bit better now. It made him happy in the end. She’d be sure to tell him that in her next letter, and make sure that he knew she never wanted him to stop finding happiness. 

Read part 8 HERE

My dearest Robbie… 

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Rosie & Jo, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

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