#I fuckin' LOVE and am OBSESSED when he shows off his chain!!!!! It makes me feel so feral and all around insane/unhinged!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs | Tumgik

#I fuckin' LOVE and am OBSESSED when he shows off his chain!!!!! It makes me feel so feral and all around insane/unhinged!!!!!!!

tampatom12 · 3 months

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Tom Brady out golfing while promoting his new Brady Brand x No Bull crossover clothing line // via Instagram Stories // Sunday, February 18th, 2024

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vikkisixxpixx · 8 months

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Originally wrote this as a scenario for my Motley Crue DR (shifter rep), decided to post it since there's a severe lack of this kink in bandfic

To clarify, I am a cardiophile. UrbanDictionary describes cardiophilia as "the act of being obsessed with the heart," though personally, I prefer the term "fascinated." Depending on the person, it can be sexual or nonsexual (it's both for me), however, since this is a smut, this will be focused on the sexual aspect. Now, as the song says, on with the show.

Dr. Feelgood

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(Source)

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Suki Taylor (my DR self), is in first person from the perspective of Suki Word Count: 1,236 Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+ content), cardiophilia/heartbeat kink, medfet, fingering f!receiving, piv sex (protection not mentioned because I forgot, could go either way in your imagination), multiple orgasms (on the part of Suki), explicit language, mentions of alcohol (in passing), nicknames, a very corny joke mid-tango, lmk if I missed anything. Don't like? Don't read. Extra Notes: we needed more of this kink anyway. also Quiet Riot's Cum On Feel The Noize came on shuffle when I wrote the second orgasm and I still find it hilarious Based on: Dr. Feelgood by Motley Crue (in name), the horny thoughts I got after viewing the attached photo No beta, we die like real men

Nikki sighs as he sits next to me on the tour bus. Tommy’s at a payphone calling Heather, while Mick and Vince are having a few drinks on the bus.

“If I don’t have one night away from Tommy, I’m gonna fuckin’ scream,” Nikki breaks the silence. “He’s about to drive me batshit crazy!”

I stifle a giggle. “Do you wanna get a hotel for tonight?” I ask. “You have another show here tomorrow.”

He presses a kiss to my cheek. “That is an amazing idea.”

It’s about an hour later that the two of us are checked into a room at some chain hotel; not sleazy, but definitely not the Ritz.

“It’ll look like shit after we’re done anyway,” Nikki says with a shit-eating grin on his face.

I snicker, rolling my suitcase to the corner of the room. “I wish the show wasn’t so soon. Then we could…”

He stalks over to me before lightly brushing his fingertips down my arm. “I don’t have to go.”

I laugh slightly. “You’re in one of the most popular bands in the world. You’re not missing a show!”

He plants a sloppy kiss on my lips. “Maybe later I can do something special for you.”

I smirk. “I’d love nothing more.” I give him a quick kiss before saying, “Now, you need to go.”

He kisses me again before walking out the door.

The show, like usual, is very loud and very successful. But, for the first time I’ve ever seen, Nikki is ecstatic to get off stage.

As we’re walking out to the car the venue lent us, he throws an arm around me. “Ya know, babe, I think that was my best performance yet.”

“What makes you say that, honey?”

“Because I played the best I could so I could go back to the hotel as fast as I can.”

I laugh at his comment as the two of us get in the car.

The drive to the hotel is largely quiet, though the sexual tension is palpable.

“I’ve got a surprise in my suitcase,” Nikki speaks in a singsong voice as we enter our room.

“You do, do you?” I ask with my eyebrow quirked.

“Mhmm. Go in the bathroom and don’t come out ‘til I say so.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply with a smirk. He chuckles and smacks my ass as I walk away.

It’s a silent moment later that I hear, “The doctor will see you now, Miss Taylor.”

“Dr. Feelgood?”

I walk into the room to find Nikki wearing a white coat—and only a white coat—with a stethoscope around his neck.

“Yeah, I heard you’ve been under the weather, Miss Taylor,” he says with a devious smirk.

I giggle. “Yes, Doctor, I’ve been feeling very, very sick.” I fall onto the bed dramatically with a hand on my chest.

“What seems to be the trouble, Miss Taylor?”

“My heart just feels all sorts of funny, Doctor.” I blush when I realize what I’ve said.

Without wasting a second, Nikki walks over. “Hmm, sounds like I should check that out.” In one swift move, the stethoscope is gone from his neck and has found a new place, with one end on my chest.

A few silent seconds pass before I blurt out, “That thing’s not even real, is it?”

Nikki chuckles. “You bet your ass it is.” He smirks as we both feel my heart rate skyrocket. A blush makes its way across my cheeks as he says, “Now that is interesting. Take a deep breath for me, would ya, babe?”

My stomach does flips at the way it sounds when he says that sentence, but I obey nonetheless.

He listens silently for a moment. “Miss Taylor, could I get you to be my guinea pig for a second?”

“Of course, Dr. Feelgood,” I reply. “What do I need to do?”

“Just stay still for me.” He plants one of his signature sloppy kisses on my lips, listening to the effect it has on my heart. “Hmm, just like I thought. I gotta operate, Miss Taylor. Now. With your permission, of course.”

“Oh, absolutely, Doctor. Is there anything I need to do?” I ask as dramatically as I can.

“Let me do all the work for you.” He kisses me again before slipping my battle vest off to hit the floor, followed by my tank top.

With more of my chest exposed, he starts placing kisses on every inch of my bare skin, occasionally just above my heart, which is the only time he moves the stethoscope. Each one earns a moan.

“Beautiful sounds, baby,” Nikki says between kisses. “From your mouth and your heart. Got one more in you?”

He slinks a finger past my shorts and underwear after his words, curling it inside me; an action which elicits the loudest moan I’ve let out so far.

“Good girl. Mind if I take these off?”

My brain is already so foggy from pleasure that the only thing I can do is release an affirming noise before my shorts and panties join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. With them out of the way, another slender finger joins the first one.

“Fuck, Nikki!” I shout.

He chuckles. “I will, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.” His white coat falls to the floor before he removes his fingers to put them in his mouth. “You are delicious.”

Before I can even think about his statement, he’s got me in a new position on the bed, before thrusting himself inside me.

I let out another “Fuck!” as Nikki starts finding a rhythm. I can only imagine the sounds filling the earpieces of the stethoscope as he’s fucking the daylights out of me.

“How does it feel, Princess?” he growls. “How does it feel knowing I’m fucking your pretty pussy to the beat of your own poor little heart?”

“Feels good!” I manage to moan out, my body bouncing with his every move.

He chuckles. “And that’s why they call me Dr. Feelgood. Because I’m the one to make you feel alright.”

Normally I would’ve laughed at his joke, but I’m so cock-drunk by this point that my only response is to throw my head back and mewl.

It’s hardly even a second later that I feel the telltale knot of an orgasm building in my stomach. “Fuck, I’m gonna— Aah!”

Nikki chuckles once more. “Go ahead and let yourself cum, Miss Taylor.”

A scream of “Nikki!” comes out as I give in to the pleasure.

As my body quivers beneath him, his thrusts start to become unsteady.

“Nikki, I wanna listen to your heart while you cum,” I whine.

He smirks and quickly switches the stethoscope around. Now my ears are filled with the beautiful sound of his heartbeat. A moment of counting reveals it to be at 130 beats per minute.

“Fuck, Nikki, your heart’s racing,” I blurt out.

“It’s cuz I love you so much.”

His unsteady thrusts paired with the sound of his heart in my ears is enough to send me over the edge again, and the two of us climax in sync.

Panting fills the air as neither of us say anything at first. After a moment, Nikki takes the stethoscope and puts it back on me.

“Your heart sounds like a fuckin’ jackhammer, babe.”

I slap his arm playfully. “Shut up!”

#mine #nikki sixx #motley crue fanfic #motley crue #mötley crüe #mötley crüe fanfic #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx fic #motley crue smut #mötley crüe smut #nikki sixx smut #vikkisixxfixx

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

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the thing about life was that a flame could be so easily blown out, so people fought like hell to keep it alive. the tip of the candle could easily be cupped for protection, gentle breath given to let the flame flutter back to life. (is that what she did? when she pounded his chest again and again, her magic stronger than any human could be? when she pressed her lips to his and breathed the very essence of life back into his body?) what people often forgot was that you could simply relight the candle.

bernard hadn't thought about darla in years. people on online forums, ones he'll never tell tim how often he visited, spoke of their experiences with metas and myths and anyone in between. he knew what happened to people accosted by magic, knew of chains trapping them with their own terror, their minds turning against themselves as their nightmares came to life.

bernard, on the other hand, could say that he wasn't all that haunted by darla. she'd lifted his car off the ground in a display of power, told bernard she was laura fell now, no matter the fact that she looked and walked and talked like darla aquista, then threatened his life on behalf of her seemingly never-ending obsession with tim motherfucking drake. seemingly, because when bernard had brought up old times they used to spend with darla over lunch, casual as you please, tim had grinned a little before dismissing his fears. darla was training with some sort of enchantress to try and be good, growing more powerful by the day.

bernard wondered, for a moment, if all of his friends could make the earth quake with a press of their fingertips. if all of his friends could bend those figures of myth and meta and magic with only their will. if he'd spent his life in the company of gods in everything but name, right down to the perfect muscles pulling under skin and battle-worn glimmer in eyes too old to be on a faces so young. (bernard wondered, for a moment, if there was any way he could join them. if the madness in darla's eyes as she demanded tim's whereabouts and the screams of terror on his boyfriend's lips as he woke up with a knife in his hand were worth it.)

bernard knew there was nothing he could have done for darla. probably not now but definitely not back then. he had no power over life and death, he couldn't have saved darla from the bullet wound that cost her nearly everything had he even attempted to try. sometimes, darla shifted in his memories, morphed into someone with the same dark hair and same blue eyes, but with broader shoulders and a kinder smile.

there was the fear that one day, something would take tim down, a dark shadow grappling with his boyfriend's shining, golden soul before snuffing it out as surely as a candle. then there was the fear that one day, something would bring tim back, clawed fingers opening his boyfriend's eyes and twisting that golden soul into something dripping and jagged, as poisonously yellow as laura fell.

(bernard learned of what happened to jason todd on accident, a couple years after the cult of dionysus. there were some horrors he could force himself to speak aloud, some fates that he couldn't stomach.)

(if tim was surprised at the way bernard's fingernails dug into his back as he held the vigilante close, at the way bernard took advantage of the inches he'd lost to tim's late growth spurt to curl himself completely into his boyfriend's arms, then tim never showed a whisper of it.)

the quickest way to avoid all of that, bernard thought, was to just make sure tim didn't die in the first place.

"hey," tim said, bringing his hand up to flick bernard on the forehead. "only shit nurses get distracted when they're treating their patient."

"only shit patients have such abysmal bedside manner."

"oooh, abysmal," tim waggled his eyebrows. "that word-of-the-day calendar is really coming in handy, huh?"

bernard sniffed. "i'll have you know that i am a well-read intellectual. fuckin' sherlock at this point."

in the movies, people with wounds like the glaring one on tim's shoulder sagged into the wall, made tearful confessions through a mouth full of blood, shuddered in pain at the slightest touch. tim's fingers hurt where he hit bernard's forehead, he didn't lose his smart mouth for anything, and was tapping his foot in impatience before bernard propped it up on the sofa.

"you're fucking sherlock? that's such a sweet pet name, you should use it more often," tim teased.

"don't get a big head, you're not that good."

bernard opened the first aid kit, unusually large and unusually used. his fingers found the small pipe bottle of water and the gauze. he tore a small piece off before wiping off the rest of the dried blood as gently has he could.

"you know," tim sounded almost contemplative, musing. completely disregarding what should have been a throbbing pain. completely trusting bernard to take care of him. "ra's al ghul called me detective once."

bernard's fingers closed around the saline solution with more ease than what was comfortable, but he had plenty of practice pushing those thoughts aside.

"i have no clue who that is," he said, feeling tim tense only the barest bit when he poured the solution over the wound. it had to have stung something fierce. bernard had seen grown men whimper at the sensation. tim sighed and tipped his head back instead.

"no one important," tim chuckled. "but i do kinda wish damian was here to hear that."

antibiotics next, and if tim felt the urge to shy away from bernard's fingers as he brushed the wound with ointment, bernard couldn't tell; he suppressed it as impressively as always.

"come on, no sibling talk when you're shirtless and i'm on top of you." bernard joked. neither of them mentioned the blood staining tim's undershirt-slash-makeshift-bandage, the dried blood flakes all over tim's lap, the way bernard's thighs were clenching tim to the point of pain.

between one blink and the next, tim was all wrapped up, gauze in place and bandage taped on top. his boyfriend's lovestruck little smile gleamed up at him, one bernard recognized. a pinch of awe and a dash of trust and a sprinkle of comfort. mix them together and bake at 350, bernard thought a bit hysterically, and you get love for a man who's terrified at how fast he can use bandages.

still, tim took precedent. every night bernard spent washing his hands too roughly at the sink was another night his boyfriend was breathing on the bed in the other room. every night bernard opened that unusually large and unusually used first aid kit was another night tim's soul stayed whole and shining and untarnished by whatever creatures took people beyond the veil only to drag them back. every night bernard spend trying to rub the scent of copper and the spill of liquid poppy off his fingers was another night bernard used his bloodstained hands to keep tim's flame alive.

i mayyyyyyyy have gotten a little too excited every time i used the word "boyfriend."

tag list: @woahjaybird @anothertimdrakestan @birdy-bat-writes @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bonkybearjpeg @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @buticaaba @comics-observer @newsical

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sydxo · 3 years

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my latest obsession: chrollo lucilfer

listen so,,,, im not really crazy about loving characters and i dont really jump around with my faves, they're pretty consistent for the most part but lately i've been overly fond of a man named chrollo.

If you know me you would know of my love for hunter x hunter

so when i really got back into the series i began looking at chrollo a lot more. when i watched it during the summer of 2017 i loved chrollo but he was never someone i obsessed over. yea he was a hot, strong villain so of course i would like him. but rewatching it recently i started looking at him much more.

to begin with, from the surface you would look at chrollo as a cold psychopath (thats extremely good-looking) but theres not much to go off of. he doesnt really have much of a personality. hes not kind, nor is he mean.. hes kind of emotionless. he doesnt not harbor anger or resentment shown in the manga and anime.

only when ~~uvo dies~~ does he really begin to show us his vulnerabilities. many can argue that him showing sadness is a mask only to show the troupe members that he cares. but the thing is,,, he doesnt cry infront of any of them? so what would be the point?

he truly cares for the troupe with his heart. each one of the members he holds close to him although it may not seem like it, he really does mourn for the loss of his loved ones (a.k.a. the troupe members).

he was brought up in meteor city, meaning his past most likely is not a very pretty one. my theory being that he was probably abused as a child. he mostly likely ran away and lead a life of having to steal and kill to survive at a young age. the abuse affected him to where he was so traumatized that he completely left his past identity behind and became **CHROLLO LUCILFER**, most likely he created that name for himself.

he lost his identity so he searches for validity of himself within the troupe, using each member as a defining part of himself.

loosing a troupe member is like loosing a part of himself. that is why he mourns so deeply for the loss of ~~uvo, kortopi and shalnark~~ and vows to kill hisoka ~~for the second time~~ after he learns of ~~kortopi and shalnarks deaths~~

chrollo really is such a misunderstood character and im so so so upset that we dont get a look into his past. that literally physically pains me that i dont know more about this man! i would kill for just a little insight of him and how thinks, how he loves, his days off, what he likes to do for fun, his hobbies, things he enjoys, his favorite foods.... i really would just want to know more about him.

i cannot possibly put into words how fucking much i love this man, yes hes quite terrible, and yes hes killed thousands of people, and yes i love him to death even knowing this. hes such an interesting chracter although we dont know much about him and his inner workings. the mystery that surrounds chrollo is what attracts me the most. i have the freedom to make all these headcanons and obsess over him, everything is up to my imagination and im okay with that.

the little details we are provided about him i cherish, his little quirks and kinks i cherish.

when he looks like steve carell i still love him.

hes the sexiest man alive? theres absolutely no doubt about that. hisoka tried it, yea killuas pretty but is he as pretty as chrollo? nah fam...

chrollo deserves the best and i really with hes able to find himself and his own identity one day. just like everyone else, chrollo deserves happiness, in large sums... he might deserve it more than anyone else to be quite honest.

hes worked his way up from the very very bottom of the chain to the top. now hes the boss. if you have watched hxh and know about meteor city, its a city of nobodies, its a dump where people send all their crap and unwanted items too, even children. chrollo growing up there had to have an extremely hardtime and due to those circumstances he became a specialist. meaning hes extremely strong and has his own unique abilities. not to mention his power?? Bandit's Secret is badass?? like imagine stealing other people's nen and being able to perfect it like chrollo? i ... im just completely stunned by the skill, power and talent this beautiful sexy man possesses. hes had to work his ass off day and night to get where his is now and i i ... im just completely stunned by the skill, power and talent this beautiful sexy man possesses. hes had to work his ass off day and night to get where his is now and i am so beyond proud of him for not being more fucked in the head considering his past.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE CHROLLO SO SOSOSOSOSOSO MUCH SO MUCH! HES SO PERFECT AND STRONG AND POWERFUL AND TALENTED AND SEXY AND WOW IVE NEVER SEEN SUCH A FLAWLESS MAN!!

i love him to death and wish for his eternal happiness and i would do anything for him to have it what the actual fuck..

losing a troupe member is like losing a part of himself. that is why he mourns so deeply for the loss of ~~uvo, kortopi and shalnark~~ and vows to kill hisoka ~~for the second time~~ after he learns of ~~kortopi and shalnarks deaths~~.

chrollo really is such a misunderstood character and im so so so upset that we dont get a look into his past. that literally physically pains me that i dont know more about this man! i would kill for just a little insight of him and how thinks, how he loves, his days off, what he likes to do for fun, his hobbies, things he enjoys, his favorite foods.... i really would just want to know more about him.

i cannot possibly put into words how fucking much i love this man, yes hes quite terrible, and yes hes killed thousands of people, and yes i love him to death even knowing this. hes such an interesting chracter although we dont know much about him and his inner workings. the mystery that surrounds chrollo is what attracts me the most. i have the freedom to make all these headcanons and obsess over him, everything is up to my imagination and im okay with that.

the little details we are provided about him i cherish, his little quirks and kinks i cherish.

when he looks like steve carell i still love him.

hes the sexiest man alive? theres absolutely no doubt about that. hisoka tried it, yea killuas pretty but is he as pretty as chrollo? nah fam...

chrollo deserves the best and i really with hes able to find himself and his own identity one day. just like everyone else, chrollo deserves happiness, in large sums... he might deserve it more than anyone else to be quite honest.

hes worked his way up from the very very bottom of the chain to the top. now hes the boss. if you have watched hxh and know about meteor city, its a city of nobodies, its a dump where people send all their crap and unwanted items too, even children. chrollo growing up there had to have an extremely hardtime and due to those circumstances he became a specialist. meaning hes extremely strong and has his own unique abilities. not to mention his power?? Bandit's Secret is badass?? like imagine stealing other people's nen and being able to perfect it like chrollo? i ... im just completely stunned by the skill, power and talent this beautiful sexy man possesses. hes had to work his ass off day and night to get where his is now and i i ... im just completely stunned by the skill, power and talent this beautiful sexy man possesses. hes had to work his ass off day and night to get where his is now and i am so beyond proud of him for not being more fucked in the head considering his past.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE CHROLLO SO SOSOSOSOSOSO MUCH SO MUCH! HES SO PERFECT AND STRONG AND POWERFUL AND TALENTED AND SEXY AND WOW IVE NEVER SEEN SUCH A FLAWLESS MAN!!

i love him to death and wish for his eternal happiness and i would do anything for him to have it what the actual fuck..

—————

ok so there’s are so many reasons why i really really love chrollos character and just admire him honestly. so i’ll space them out:

1) his character design!!!

-kuroro obviously is... a very attractive looking character!! and usually i’m not ?? idk i don’t really like characters /like/ him with the slicked back hair and crazy ass abs and weird fur coats but it honestly just started growing on me??

-HES SO CLEAN CUT!!! this man owns suits, fur coats and versace sweaters. ... he constantly gets HATED ON and made fun of ppl bc think his hair is fuckin greasy?? GREASY?? AREYOU KIDDING ME?? ur gonna tell me a man who wears belts and fur coats doesn’t shower?? bjtch his hair is gelled and he is KILLING IT!!!!

-throughout the series his style changes a lot!! he looks so good?? mans is so very fashionable (i’ll send examples)

-his mobage cards!!! BITCH HE LOOKS SO FUCKING GOOD IN HIS MOBAGE CARDS!!

(mobage cards are from a hxh game that you can collect, they come out with official art of the characters in different situations and daily life, so just like characters dressed normally i guess)

he has this one mobage card of him in a casual outfit and OH MY GOD BITCH HE LOOKS SOOO GOOD!!! he’s wearing a white tank top and has this blue button down over it that’s not buttoned up with these jeans and his hair looks so good!!!!! also can’t forget his cross necklace.. we love a religious faithful man!

-SPEAKING of hair chrollos hair is constantly changing?? just like killua with the outfits, chrollo is the only other character that normal changes his clothes while the rest of them stay the same?? he’s so clean and gorgeous it makes me cry!!! from when he’s first introduced his hair is gelled back, to when he meets neon his hair is down nd .. bitch oh my god chrollo has semi long hair and it makes me deadass sob it looks SO GOOD. and right now in the recent manga chapters he has this messy down bedhead style it’s so sexy!!!

ok that was just part 1 about his character design let me start with part 2/3 what attracts me

2)HIS MYSTERY!!

-so chrollo is kinda i guess from the surface he’s a boring dude. there’s nothing noteworthy about his character. he isn’t funny nor is he kind. he’s kinda like... an empty shell of where /something/ should be. and it seriously ..... just adds to his character. his personality might not “shine” and he’s only really popular because he’s a hot antagonist but there’s SO MUCH MORE!! that people don’t look into revolving him.

-he gives off sooo many hints and foreshadows his identity loss so many times while he’s given screentjme and its sad??

sad that this amazing man that has worked so hard and become so very strong still cannot i guess identify himself within a crowd. he’s just ~there~ giving orders for the troupe.

-he truly believes that no one cares for him or relies on him. that everyone would be absolutely 100% unaffected should he die. and that?? i literally wanna smack him.-

(continuing i wanted to give a little background on the phantom troupe given chrollo is the leader)

-PHANTOM TROUPE-

so the phantom troupe is a group of 12 people all given numbers

ok so head = chrollo and legs = the rest of the members because the phantom troupe are also known as the spiders.

they’re thieves with chrollo as the leader and they come from meteor city which is basically a dump where nobodies live a.k.a. they lived a harsh life growing up.

-

ok so continuing with chrollo thinks he’s replaceable to the troupe. couldn’t be more false and it makes me upset that he thanks that? the troupe really really cares about him a whole lot given he’s literally the leader and he created the phantom troupe!! basically the only place these “thieves” feel like they belong. they’re all family. they fight like brothers and sisters and care so much for one another.

ok that brings this section to a close. this is getting extremely long so let me write my very last part. jeez i could go on for ages.

3.HIS STRENGTH.

-chrollo fights very uniquely and i know it’s kind of a weird thing i guess to bring up his fighting style and powers when discussing why i like him as a character but i really cannot help it.

-out of all the characters in hunter x hunter, chrollos powers have to be my favorite coming from an unbiased standpoint. it’s not even because he’s my favorite character, do i love his power, it’s just so fucking unique and interesting.

-

•when you watch hxh you’ll learn about powers and such (they call them nen) and the different types you can have, manipulator, conjuror, transmuter, etc.

there’s one power class that stands out from all the rest. while the normal powerclasses have built in powers you know things that are already predetermined, there’s one class called “specialist” and this is the rarest class.

-you guessed it, chrollo is a specialist. being a specialist gives you crazy overpowered abilities for short amounts of time like super regeneration, speed, etc. things like that. chrollos power is called “Bandits Secret” him being a thief and all its so fkn badass. he can literally steal other people’s power from them and use it for himself!! his power is lowkey complicated and has a lot of conditions that need to be met before he can use it but let me just say, the fact that chrollo can steal powers that aren’t even his and use them even better than the original user is so amazing. he’s BEYOND talented when it comes to combat skills hence why hisoka got obliterated in there fight. not only that but he’s an extremely graceful and careful fighter. he’s crazy good at planning strategies against his opponent and extremely smart.

——

ok so that’s all for my chrollo rant... uhh this was longer than intended i’m so sorry but yes i love chrollo with my entire heart he truly is my favorite character of all time and nothing will change that. thank u for coming to my ted talk.

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racebox-of-higgars · 3 years

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Christmas Kisses - sprace oneshot

It may not be Christmas anymore but I’m still gonna write it

Crossposted on Ao3 at Racebox_of_Higgars

Enjoy!

“I think I’m having a feeling,” Spot groaned, flopping down onto Jack’s couch. “Make it stop.” Jack looked up from his painting, frowning at Spot.

“How did you get in my house?”

“I picked the lock,” Spot said simply, as if it happened every day.

“As you do.”

“Yes.” Jack narrowed his eyes slightly, then shook his head. Today was not the day for questioning things.

“What feeling?”

“Fuck if I know.” Spot gestured at the air in front of him. “ Racetrack! ” That only made Jack even more confused.

Spot, he didn’t really do feelings. He would always bottle them up and ignore them until they became anger, which was far easier to deal with than whatever it was before. That earned him his reputation as the kid with the anger issues, which suited him just fine. It meant no one messed with him, or people around him, and as long as they were okay, he was happy.

“You got a problem with Race?” Jack asked, turning completely away from his painting. He was invested now.

“Yes! No! I don’t know.” Jack grinned, finally catching on to what Spot was getting at.

“You like him, don’t you?” Spot screamed into the pillow and Jack snickered.

Jack loved Race. Not in a romantic way, but Race was pretty much his little brother, and he would do anything to make Race happy. He had seen Race fall in love too fast then each time they would leave and he’d watch Race fall apart, each time losing another part of himself. Slowly, it had worn Race down, and though he didn’t let it show, he was always hurting. Every time he got into a new relationship, he would keep his distance, trying not to get too close Every time he would get his heart broken. Jack never liked any of Race’s boyfriends, but he liked Spot.

“So what do I do about it?” Spot asked. “Do I ask him out, or do I like stab him?”

“You ask him out, dipshit!” Spot screamed again.

“What do I do?” Spot sat up slightly, looking a Jack, and he actually looked worried. God, he was whipped.

“Ask him on a date.”

“What kind of date does one ask Racetrack fucking Higgins on?” That was a good question. Thankfully, Jack had known the fucker since they were basically fetuses, and therefore knew exactly what he would want.

“Take him to the ice-skating rink, then get hot chocolate together and watch a Christmas movie.” Race was a sucker for Christmas, and it being just weeks away now, it was perfect timing. “If you’re feeling bold put up some mistletoe. He loves that shit.”

“Race loves Christmas, right?”

“Yup. If your house isn’t decorated he’ll fly through there like a glittery rainbow tornado.” Spot smiled at that. He could practically picture it, and he felt the blush creeping up his cheeks. “Dude, you’re fucking whipped.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’ll still kill you in your sleep.” Jack just smiled and turned back to his painting.

“Enjoy your date.”

Spot knew what he wanted to say, but actually asking Race out was a whole other story. They were in the library together, a usual hangout spot (hehe get it), when it was cold, and Race was rambling on about some new thing he had grown obsessed with and Spot had listened diligently, completely enraptured by Race’s excitement. His sparkling eyes lit up with a childlike glee and a grin spread across his face as he looked out the window.

“Spotty, look!” He cried. “They’re turning on the Christmas lights!” Race was entranced by the lights, almost like a child, but Spot wasn’t watching them. Spot was gazing at Race. He watched as the colours flickered over Race’s pale skin and the rainbow of lights reflected off his eyes. God, he was so in love with this boy it hurt, and if he didn’t get at least a date with him soon he was pretty sure he’d combust.

Plans went out the window.

“Go on a date with me?” He blurted, screaming internally the second it left his mouth. Race turned to him, shock written all over his face.

“What?”

“I-uh-I wanted to know if you, maybe, wanted to go on a date with me?” Spot stammered out, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Race smiled, somehow wider than he had when he was watching the lights.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes!” Race rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, like he always did when he was excited and Spot couldn’t help his smile.

“Alright, uh, I’ll pick you up at 7, is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, and wrap up warm,” Spot added, thinking about how cold it was likely to be on the ice later. Race nodded.

“Okay, I’ll – uh – I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, see you.” Fuck yes!

In Which Race Is A Third Wheel

Racebox of Higgars: GAYSGAYSGAYSGAYSGAYS!!!!

Mom: Do you really need that many exclaimation marks?

SantaGay: GAYSGAYSGAYSGAYSGAYS????

Mom: Don’t encourage him

Racebox of Higgars: GAAAAAAAAAAAYS!

Mom: What do you want?

Racebox of Higgars: SPOT ASKED ME ON A FUCKIN DATE!!!!

SantaGay: HELL YEAH!

Mom: Finally

Mom: It’s only taken him nine years.

SantaGay: what are you doing?

Racebox of Higgars: i don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me

SantaGay: oooh, a man of mystery

Mom: Be safe.

Racebox of Higgars: i always am

Racebox of Higgars: OH FUCK WHAT AM I GONNA WEAR

Mom: Did he give you a dress code?

Racebox of Higgars: no, he just said dress warm

SantaGay: black skinny jeans, that cream turtleneck you literally never wear, your fancy black coat, doc martens, a lil bit of eyeliner

Mom: Jack, you have fashion sense?

Mom: Why do you never dress up nice for our dates?

Racebox of Higgars: o shit

Racebox of Higgars: thanks gays

For the fifth time, Race examined himself in the mirror, scrunching up his face. Something was missing from his outfit. He had to admit, Jack’s taste was good (the eyeliner was amazing), but something was still missing. He rifled through his drawers, eventually pulling out the silver chain Spot had bought him when they were 14. It was simple, plain, but spoke volumes.

Race had only just come out as trans. He was slowly swapping out his wardrobe for more masculine clothes, and they were going through his old jewellery.

He held up a necklace with a small owl charm at the end, grimacing. He hated that necklace. It wasn’t anything against it particularly, but more to do with how feminine it made him feel. He hated it.

“Y’know,” he began absent-mindedly, “I used to love this necklace, but now I can’t stand it. It makes me really dysphoric for some reason, which sucks since I love wearing jewellery and stuff, but I can’t wear most of this.”

“You can get more masculine necklaces,” Spot answered from where he was sitting at the foot of Race’s bed.

“Well, yeah, but I can’t really afford it.” Spot frowned. “I don’t get any money at the moment, and I can’t work.” An idea slowly formulated in Spot’s mind.

“Race, I got you something,” Spot said sheepishly. Race turned, brow furrowing.

“It’s not my birthday, or Christmas. Why?”

“It ain’t much, but you were saying about it the other day and then I saw it and thought of you.” He held the box out to Race, who took it tentatively.

“This isn’t gonna explode or anything, right?” Spot laughed, but shook his head. It reminded him of their prank war a month or so before, which only ended when Spot had broken his nose.

“It shouldn’t do.”

“Alright, good.” Race tore into the packaging with a newfound fervour, dropping it to the floor because he was a firm believer that gift-giving should always be carnage, no matter what the occasion, then opened the lid of the box. Spot watched nervously, suddenly thinking that this was probably a bad idea, but Race’s face cracked into a grin.

“You bought me a necklace?” He said incredulously as he carefully lifted it out of the box.

“Well, yeah. I was out with Hotshot yesterday and I saw it in a window and it reminded me of the other day. If you don’t like it I can take it back I jus-“ Spot was cut off by a weight crashing into him, and arms wrapping tightly around him.

“I love it, thank you.”

Since then Race had kept it in pristine condition, carefully making sure it didn’t rust or otherwise get dirty or break. He carefully lifted the chain out of the box, much like he did all those years ago, and fastened it around his neck. Looking in the mirror, he smiled. It offset the outfit perfectly, matching with the silver buttons on his coat and just providing that extra little touch to the outfit. He took a quick photo and sent it to the group chat.

In Which Race is a Third Wheel

Racebox of Higgars sent a photo

Racebox of Higgars: GAYS DO I LOOK OKAY

SantaGay: damn bitch

SantaGay: if i wasn’t dating davey and you weren’t like a brother to me id tap that

Mom: He means you look good.

Mom: He’s right, you do.

Racebox of Higgars: thanks gays

Racebox of Higgars: OH FUCK HES HERE

Spot shuffled slightly outside Race’s door, flowers in hand. Were flowers too much? Fuck it, it was too late now. Race opened the door and Spot’s breath caught in his throat. Oh god, Race was gorgeous. Spot’s eyes slowly glanced over Race, taking all of him in, from stylishly messy curls, to his bright eyes rimmed by just a little bit of eyeliner to make them stand out, to his breathless smile, to the necklace at his throat, to those criminally tightly jeans, and Spot needed to stop staring.

“Christ, you look gorgeous,” Spot breathed, still hardly able to take it all in. A blush crept up Race’s cheeks as his eyes skirted over Spot.

“You can’t talk, you’re-“ he gestured wildly at Spot, “beautiful.” Spot had been called a lot of things, hot, sexy, handsome, but never beautiful. It surprised him, he loved the sound of it on Race’s lips.

“I bought flowers,” Spot said, holding them out. “I hope it’s not too much.” Race smiled taking them from him.

“Cyclamen,” Race pointed out with a smile, taking them from him. “You remembered?”

“I’ve been doing some research into flower symbolism,” Race said, half hanging off the end of his bed. Spot looked up from his homework.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s actually pretty interesting. It’s weird to think that plants have so much meaning . Like, take hyacinth flowers. Apparently they were created when two Greek God’s were fighting over one guys love and one of them got hella jealous so fuckin killed the guy cus if he couldn’t have him no one could. The other one created the flower from his blood.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“I know. It symbolises rebirth now.”

“Huh, but the guy wasn’t reborn?” Race shook his head. “Fair enough. Do you have a favourite flower?” Spot asked, partly out of genuine curiosity, partly out of hope that someday he’d be the one buying Race flowers.

“Cyclamen,” Race answered easily. “They symbolise love and tenderness.” Spot smiled. Of course Race would like something like that. He was a hopeless romantic at heart. “Do you have one?”

“Not at the moment. I’ll have to do some research and get back to you.”

Spot liked lavender roses – blossoming romance.

“Of course I remembered. I, uh, I had some lavender roses put in too.”

“Your favourite,” Race recalled. “Blossoming romance, right?” Spot nodded, embarrassed. Race smiled. “I’m gonna go put these in some water real quick, wanna come in?”

Race couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he carefully organised the flowers in the vase. Spot had remembered the offhand conversation three years ago. Not only had he remembered, but he had gone out of his way to get the specific flowers Race loved. The blush on Race’s cheeks darkened slightly, doing a little dance as he placed the vase on the coffee table.

“You’re wearing the necklace,” Spot pointed out. Race rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah.”

“You still have it?” Spot was genuinely surprised. That had been eight years ago now, and yet the necklace still looked like it did the day he bought it.

“Of course I do. I’ve kept everything you’ve bought me over the years.” Spot laughed.

“Even the stuffed dinosaur?”

“Especially the stuffed dinosaur.”

“You’re gonna think it’s stupid!” Spot cried, a blush creeping up his cheeks. Race laughed, holding Spot back with one hand as he clutched the wrapped gift in the other.

“Nope!” He answered, popping the p. “I’ve never found anything you’ve bought me stupid, why would I start now?” Spot groaned and backed off slightly, rubbing a hand over his face. Race eagerly tore into the paper , throwing it onto the pile left by Spot. He grinned, laughing. “I love him!” He said, pulling the blue stuffed dinosaur against his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around it. “I shall name him Steeb.” Spot shook his head, laughing. He had genuinely thought Race would hate it or think it was stupid. Race had been going through an obsession with dinosaurs, and of course he was always a sucker for stuffed animals, and thus Steeb had been bought.

“Steeb?”

“Yup!”

Race pulled him into a tight hug, still laughing. “Thank you.”

“Where are we actually going?” Race asked as they walked outside onto the freezing street. Frost coated the grass, and their breath hung before them, pockets of heat suspended in the cold air.

“It’s a surprise,” Spot said simply. Race forced his hands into the pocket of his coat to shelter them from the cold.

“You know I don’t like surprises,” he mumbled.

“Yes you do, you just say you don’t to try to get me to tell you shit.” Damn Spot and damn the fact that he knew Race better than anyone.

“You brought me ice skating?” Race asked, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah, Jack said you used to go a lot as kids.” Race grinned, kicking off his shoes and replacing them with skates, lacing them up tightly. Spot copied him, putting their shoes and bags into lockers.

Race quickly made his way onto the ice, gliding like a pro and kicking off with a small spin, just to test it out. Spot got onto the ice and promptly fell on his face. Race, however, was lost in the moment, gliding and spinning and twisting, then leaping into the air. Spot watched in wonder as Race closed his eyes, lost in his movements.

Race closed his eyes when he danced. Losing himself in the music, he would just close his eyes and let it take over. It would decide his movements for him, and he would follow along. Spot stood in the corner, mesmerised by the boy in front of him. A small smile crept onto his face as he watched Race. It was rare for Race to let Spot see him dance, so he took any moment he could. Watching Race, it was like he was made for this, with the way his body moved so gracefully, so purposefully. Spot loved every moment. No matter how hard he tried (not that he was trying), he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Spot!” Race said excitedly, opening his eyes and pausing the music. “You came?” Spot smiled.

“Of course I came, dumbass. I wasn’t gonna miss this.” Race bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly.

“I’m on in half an hour. Just going through some basic stuff now to get ready.” Spot scoffed.

“You call that basic?” Race ran a hand through his curls, damp with sweat.

“I mean yeah, compared to what I’m doing in the show.”

“What are you doing in the show?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Race said with a wink.

“Ever the cryptid.” They stood in silence for a moment, then Spot had to break it. “You’re not binding, right?” Race’s face fell and he subconsciously crossed his arms over his chest. “C’mon, you know it’s not good for you. Can we take it off before you go on?” Race shook his head.

“I don’t have anything else to put on.”

“I brought a sports bra, could you change into that?” Race hesitated for a moment, before nodding. Race always struggled being safe when binding, so when he had events like this, Spot would always bring a spare sports bra and one of his hoodies for Race to change into. Just in case.

He handed Race the sports bra.

“I have a hoodie for you to wear after,” he said, handing him the hoodie too. Race smiled as he went into the bathroom to change.

“Thank you.”

“Spot!” Race cried, skating over to his side and offering out a hand. “Are you alright?” Spot shook himself out of the memory and took the hand, shakily getting to his feet. He immediately slipped again, but Race caught him, laughing. “You can’t skate, can you?” Spot shook his head. “Why did you bring me ice skating if you can’t skate?”

“Because I knew you’d like it.” Race took both of Spots hands in his, so they were facing each other, then he slowly began skating backwards, locking eyes with Spot.

“Thank you.” Spot tried his best to mimic Race, and soon they had a steady speed and rhythm going. “By the end of tonight I’ll have you skating on your own.”

“I doubt that.”

“Bet.”

Race won the bet.

“Wanna go get hot chocolate?” Spot asked. “Not the shitty watery stuff they serve here, we’ll go and get the good hot chocolate from the library.” Race rubbed his hands together to try to regain some feeling in them and he nodded.

“Hell yeah.”

The library’s café was a big reason why they always hung out there. They’d found it while studying one night, and it had slowly become ‘Their Spot’ over the years. All the staff knew them and their orders, and always greeted them with a smile. They knew all the staff by name too.

“Thanks for this, Race.” Spot said, setting his books down on the table. Race smiled, setting his bag down on an empty seat.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” He glanced around. It was a cozy, quaint place. Squashy armchairs surrounded tables and the whole place was filled to bursting with old wooden bookshelves. Towards the back was the café, a large chalkboard with all the prices hanging above it. “Wanna grab food and stuff before we start working?” He asked, gesturing towards the café. Spot looked up, and nodded.

“Yeah sure.”

“I’ll pay,” Race said as Spot reached for his wallet.

“But-“

“No buts, I’ve got it.” Race tapped his card on the reader and took his mug of hot chocolate, laden with sprinkles, whipped cream and marshmallows back to the table. Spot sat down shortly after him, lifting the mug to his lips. Race took that moment to admire Spot, backed by the sunlight streaming through the large windows. His brow was furrowed slightly as he concentrated on his mountain of a drink, and the contended smile on his face brought out his laugh lines.

There was whipped cream on his nose.

Race burst into laughter at the sight of Tough Guy Spot Conlon with whipped cream on his nose. Said Tough Guy Spot Conlon looked up, brow furrowing more in confusion.

“Is something on my face?” He asked.

“There’s – there’s whipped cream on your nose,” Race said through laughter. Just to make Race laugh more, Spot attempted to lick it off. He loved watching Race laugh. It was the most magical sound in the world to him.

“Boys, can you quiet down a bit,” a waitress asked, “this is a library.” Race pressed his mouth shut to muffle his laughter and Spot wiped the cream off with his finger. That was the beginning of their library ‘study sessions’.

They settled into what had become their corner of the library, curling up in two opposite armchairs, setting their drinks on the table. They had chosen a spot right next to a large window so they could watch people go about their days on the streets beneath them. Sometimes they would make up ridiculous stories about the people walking by, just to make the other laugh. Often, it would turn into a competition about who could come up with the funniest story. It would reach the point where they were howling with laughter, tears streaming down their faces, and the library staff would shake their heads fondly as they told them to quiet down.

“Thanks for tonight, Spot,” Race said, a small smile on his face.

“It’s not over yet.” Race tilted his head. It had already been one of the best nights of his life, how on Earth was this not the end? “We’re gonna go back to my place one we’ve finished these, get takeout, watch a movie.” Race grinned.

“A Christmas movie?” He asked excitedly.

“Even better – a crap Christmas movie.” Race’s eyes lit up and he wiggled a little in his chair with excitement.

“Oh my god, you are the best.” Race was obsessed with Christmas movies, but the shitty, cheesy ones that you laugh at because of how unbelievably bad they are, and Spot was his long-suffering companion who had put up with this bullshit for nine Christmases in a row now.

“Can we watch a Christmas movie?” Race asked, draped over Spot’s lap. This was their first Christmas as friends, and Race was going to make it a good one.

“Which one?” Spot smiled down at Race, automatically starting to run his fingers through his hair.

“I dunno, something super cheesy. The kind so bad you have to laugh at it.” That was Race’s favourite kind of me. Probably why he enjoyed the Twilight Saga. Not because he actually liked the films (Edward was an abusive douche, he had physically fought someone on that before, and he would do it again), but because it was so easy to laugh at how unbelievably shitty they were.

Spot nodded, opening Netflix and putting on some shitty movie.

Neither of them actually watched the movie though. Spot was distracted by Race’s soft smile and how peaceful he looked. Race was distracted by the feeling of Spot’s hand in his hair and Spot’s arms around him.

It had been a while since Race had been in Spot’s apartment, (they usually preferred to hang out at Race’s, he had a bigger TV for movie and game nights) and he looked around slowly. It wasn’t a big place, but it was still nice. He had a large, squashy sofa, plus an armchair, a coffee table that clearly had been cleaned recently. In fact, the whole apartment had that smell like it had been cleaned just a few hours before. Had Spot cleaned for him?

“Do you want tea or coffee or anything?” Spot asked from the kitchen.

“Coffee would be good,” Race answered, getting comfy on Spot’s couch. Spot set to work making it as Race glanced over the takeout menu. Then, he had an idea. “We should build a pillow fort!” Spot turned to face him, one eyebrow raised, a bemused smile playing on his lips.

“A pillow fort?”

“Yeah!” Race’s smile dropped slightly. “Unless you don’t want to. We don’t have to-”

“Of course I want to.” Spot set the coffee mugs down on the table, plopping down next to Race. Race’s eyes lit up when he saw the mugs.

“You still have those?” He asked excitedly.

“Of course I do.”

“Spot look!” Race exclaimed, pointing at a shelf. Spot put down the mannequin hand he was turning into a middle finger and turned to look at Race, who was holding up a matching mug set. They were plain white, except for black lettering. One said ‘his bitch’ on it, while the other said ‘his slut’. “They’re for gays!” Spot laughed, looking at the price tag.

“And they’re only like, $3.” Race’s eyes lit up with mischief, the way they always did when he had a stupid idea.

“We’re absolutely gonna buy them, aren’t we?” Race said.

“Obviously.” Spot took them from Race and paid for them.

Later, Spot handed Race the mug reading ‘his slut.’

“Why am I the slut?” Race said indignantly.

“Come on, we all know you’ve slept with like, half the guys in the school.” Race’s face fell a little.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“You sleeping around?”

“Yeah.” In truth, Spot did mind, but he wouldn’t say that. The only reason Spot had an issue with it was because of his huge crush on Race. But he supposed he had no reason to be jealous, it wasn’t like Race was his.

“No, I don’t mind. It’s your body, you do what you want with it.”

“Sometimes I worry if I’m doing something wrong. If, I dunno, whoever I end up dating doesn’t like it.”

“Have you ever dated anyone long-term?” Spot asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. Race shook his head.

“Nah. There’s people I’ve seen for a couple months or so, but never longer than that. They realise I’m fucked up and leave.” Race laughed bitterly, trying to add humour to the situation.

“You’re not fucked up.”

“Mhm, that’s not what they think.” Spot took Race’s hand in his.

“Look at me.” Race hesitantly met Spot’s eyes. “You aren’t too fucked up. There’s no such thing as too fucked up to be loved.” Race blinked back tears.

“Thank you.”

“It’s alright, now shut up and take your slut mug.” Race laughed.

“You do realise it’s gonna have to stay at your place, right? No home will let me keep this.”

“We can keep it for special occasions.”

They curled up together on the couch. Spot reached for the remote and started flicking through Netflix, putting on a shitty movie. Both pretended to watch the film, but they were both too focused on the close proximity. Both wanted to make a move, but neither knew the right moment. The distance between them was painful.

Slowly, achingly slowly, Spot reached an arm around Race’s shoulders. Race wiggled slightly, getting comfy, before relaxing into Spot’s side, resting his head on Spot’s shoulder. Warmth spread from every point of contact, and he couldn’t believe he’d spent nine years missing this. He had spent so long pining for Spot, but never worked up the courage to make a move, instead throwing himself at any other guy who would take him to try to distract himself from his helpless crush, but nobody gave him the same feelings as Spot did. Spot was it for him, he had known for the last nine years, and he knew it now.

Spot was screaming inside. Race was right here, in his arms, and he wasn’t pulling away. They were on a date, and it wasn’t painfully awkward. Since meeting Race, Spot had hardly dated anyone. He had a couple flings here and there, but none lasted long. None could hold a candle to the brightness of Race. Nothing could compare to the warmth in Spot’s chest he felt around Race, or the safety and comfort he hadn’t felt before, but with Race it seemed so easy. Everything was easy with Race.

Race took the moment to look around the room. In the corner, there was a photo frame, with 9 photos in it. He looked closer at it, and realised it was one of the two of them together, each one taken a year after the one before. The first one was taken when they first met, before Race had come out, before he had cut his hair. The second one was just after he had cut his hair. He still remembered each one being taken.

“Spot, can we take a photo together?” Race asked, fiddling with the ends of his hair.

“Why?”

“I like having photos with all my friends, I like keeping the memories.”

“Sure. You want a selfie or are we gonna make someone take it for us?”

“Should we get someone else to take it?” Spot nodded. “Can you ask them?”

“Alright.” Spot took Race’s phone and walked up to a middle aged woman walking by. They spoke briefly, then Spot came running back, throwing an arm around Race’s shoulder. Race grinned, looking at the camera, wrapping his arm around Spot’s waist. A few seconds later, the woman gave them a thumbs up, and Spot ran back to take the phone back. Spot handed the phone back, leaning over Race’s shoulder to look at them.

“Are they good?” Race nodded, smiling.

“Yeah, really good.” Spot backed off slightly, wrinkling his nose.

“Your hair got in my nose.” Race frowned.

“Sorry. I’m gonna cut it shorter at some point.” Spot tilted his head.

“Really? How short?” Now Race was gonna do a special trick called lying to avoid outing himself.

“A bob, so around my chin length.” Spot smiled, picturing it.

“Yeah, that’s gonna look good.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be good.”

Race pounded on Spot’s door, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Wha- oh.” Spot opened the door, face scrunched up in annoyance, but softening when he saw Race. “Oh, Racer, come in.” Race came in, sinking down onto the couch, fiddling with the strings on his hoodie.

“Can I crash here for the night?” He asked, voice breaking. Spot’s brow furrowed with concern as he crouched down in front of Race.

“Yeah. What happened?” Race hesitated, before pulling his hood down, revealing his messily chopped hair.

“I cut my hair. I just- I couldn’t look at myself with long hair anymore. I got kicked out.” Spot frowned.

“What do you mean you couldn’t look at yourself with long hair?” Race’s breath hitched and his heart hammered in his chest.

“I-uh-I'm trans. I couldn’t deal with the dysphoria anymore. It hurts too much.” Spot’s eyes softened and he wrapped Race up in a tight hug.

“It’s alright. I don’t care. Do you have a new name and pronouns you want me to use?” Race rested his forehead on Spot’s shoulder, trying to keep from crying.

“Could you call me Antonio? I mean, I’ll still go by Racetrack and everything, but Antonio for my real name. And he/him pronouns.”

“Sure, Antonio,” Spot said, trying the name out on his lips. Race’s face split into a grin at the use of the name.

“Thank you.”

“It’s alright.” Spot reached up to touch the choppy hair. “Now how about I sort your hair out?”

“Please.”

Race ran a hand through his freshly cut hair, examining it from all angles in the mirror, and he smiled brightly.

“Thank you,” he said, turning and wrapping Spot in a hug. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Why don’t we update that photo we took last year?” Spot suggested, and Race’s eyes lit up.

“Could we?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Spot threw his arm around Race’s shoulders, just as he had a year ago, and Race wrapped his arm around Spot’s waist, and they both wore matching grins as they looked into the camera. The woman taking the photo gave a thumbs up and Spot ran to take the phone. They looked at the photo, then back at the one from the previous year.

“You look happier,” Spot commented. Race smiled.

“I am happier.”

“You kept those photos?” Race asked, nodding slightly to the frame. Spot tore his glance away from Race momentarily to look.

“Of course I did. They’re my favourite pictures.” Race smiled, settling back on Spot’s shoulder. A blush rose in his cheeks as he felt Spot press a kiss to his hair, then his hand replaced his lips, fingers slowly carding through his curls. Race hummed contentedly, wrapping an arm across Spot’s stomach and leaning into his every touch. Now this, this was something he could get used to.

The credits rolled, and by that point it was well past midnight. Race slowly sat up, regretting the loss of contact with Spot.

“I-uh-I should go,” he said, moving to stand.

“I’ll walk you home?” Spot offered.

“Are you sure? It’s cold out.”

“I’m sure, c’mon.”

Somehow, the street was even colder than when they had gone out before, but neither of them seemed to mind. A snowbank piled up on one side, and Race struggled to contain his grin as the idea formulated in his mind.

He knocked once, twice against Spot, playing it off as an accident, before shoving Spot into the bank. He erupted into laughter, but maybe it was too soon, as Spot grabbed his coat on the way down. Both of them shrieked as they landed in the snow, Race landing on top of Spot. They breathed heavily, making eye contact for a moment, faces flushed, but whether that was the cold or something else was anyone’s guess. Just as they had been staring long enough for it to become awkward, Spot finally made his move. He leaned in, like he had been longing to for years, holding the back of race’s neck and gently pressing their lips together. Electricity sparked through his body and he couldn’t quite believe he had spent years missing out on this. One of his hands subconsciously moved to tangle in Race’s hair, who tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss. The world around them seemed to melt away, and all that mattered was them, and this.

“Fucking fags!” A voice yelled next to them. Spot was about to shake his head at Race, tell him to leave it, but Race was already on his feet.

“Hey! What fucking century are you living in? So what I happen to be dating a man, please inform me of how I’m hurting you by loving him.

“It’s against God’s will. You’re digusting,” the man said, rounding on Race.

“No, I’ll tell you what’s disgusting – discriminating against people who have done nothing to hurt you, just because of a fucking book that was mistranslated. Wake the fuck up. People fall in love, they don’t hurt you by doing that, they just do it.”

“Fuck you!” The man spat, turning to walk away.

“I bet it’s fucking tiny!” Race yelled after him, turning back to Spot, who looked at him in amazement. “Sorry about that.” Spot shook his head, taking the hand Race offered to him and pulled himself to his feet.

“That was amazing,” he said honestly, smiling.

“I just- I couldn’t let him just say that y’know? I mean, I’ve heard shit like that for years, but I wasn’t gonna let him say it to you.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“That’s not the point.” Spot leaned up to kiss him quickly.

“Either way, that was wonderful.” Spot had never seen Race angry like that before. Not when the Delanceys had constantly torn him down, not when he moved from foster home to foster home, not when he had gotten detention just for trying to use the right bathroom. But one homophobic comment and he had gotten furious like Spot had never seen before, and god Spot didn’t think he could possibly love Race more.

Race smiled, hesitantly lacing his fingers with Spot’s as they walked the last few blocks to Race’s apartment.

“Your house wasn’t decorated,” Race commented.

“Yeah, I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“I’ll come over tomorrow and help you decorate.” Spot didn’t get a say in it. Race was gonna deck that apartment out in so much glitter and coloured lights it would be like a very gay tornado had gone through and left parts of itself all over. Not that Spot minded. He would take any opportunity possible to spend time with Race. “I expect you up early.” Spot’s face dropped. “I’ll bring coffee,” Race added, solely because he knew coffee was the only way to bribe Spot into getting out of bed before 10am.

“Alright, I’ll be expecting greatness. It better live up to the expectations Jack’s given me.”

“It’ll be worse, I promise,” Race said with a grin.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

They slowed when they reached the door to Race’s apartment, lingering a moment before Race unlocked the door.

“Uh, thanks for tonight, Spotty. I had fun,” Race said, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t really want the night to end, but at least he would see Spot tomorrow.

“Yeah, so did I.” They shuffled slightly, neither wanting to end the night. “Are we- are we gonna do this again sometime?” Spot finally asked.

“Are you kidding me? If we’re not doing this like, weekly, we’re doing something wrong.” Spot chuckled a little, before looking up. He laughed, seeing mistletoe hung in the doorframe. Race’s eyes widened, before he looked at Spot, blush rising in his cheeks.

“Do you wanna-” Race’s question turned into a squeak as Spot crashed their lips together, pulling Race close. He was gonna take every damn opportunity to kiss Race that he could. He had already missed out on nine years, he wasn’t gonna lose any more.

Slowly, they broke away, neither wanting to, but both knowing they had to. Their faces were flushed, eyes wide.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, or would it be today now?” Race asked.

“Technically today.”

“I’ll see you later today then,” Race said with a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.”

They kissed quickly once more, then Spot disappeared down the street.

In Which Race Is A Third Wheel

SantaGay : did you guys enjoy my surprise???

Mom: I told you not to.

Racebox of Higgars : YES!

#sprace #newsies #fanfiction #fluff #spot conlon x racetrack higgins #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #first date #yes steeb is based on something my joyfriend bought me #i love these boys #soft

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

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Survey #259

"i went straight to heaven, but i kept on knockin’.”

What's something that makes you feel more creative? Music. What are the last three nail polish colors you wore? Wow, idk the last time I wore nail polish, but probably black or maroon. What's the last thing you binge watched? Avatar: The Last Airbender w/ Sara. Do you watch youtube videos or tv shows more? YouTube is essentially my TV. Quite literally - I don't have a television in my room because I never watch it. What's a DIY project that you don't think actually works? Oh dude, plenty. I have DIY-obsessed friends online as well as a Pinterest, I know this shit, lmao. I can name one though with total certainty because I was with a friend when she tried that disgusting "YOU CAN MAKE cuPCAkES IN A C uP!!!!!" crap. It's the most eggy shit you'll ever try. Do you collect Mason jars to use for crafts? No, but I think those crafts are generally super cute. Have you ever gotten rid of something and then regretted it? If so, what? (or what's one thing?) Oh yeah, one of my biggest being my senior prom pictures, but not for the reason you'd expect (save for two pictures of us that're just REALLY fuckin cute): I want them back because goddamn I was pretty ok and I miss that now that I hate my body every waking moment of every day. :^) What color is the zip-up hoodie you wear the most? Don't have one w/ a zipper, they're ugly. Do you live in an apartment that has inspections? No. Do you hate taking naps during the day? Nooo I love naps and usually take one a day. I tend to feel really tired all over again a few hours or so after I wake up. Who in your immediate family has the best natural hair? MEEEEEEEEEEEE. Would you ever audition for American Idol? Hell no. Do you know anyone who thinks they're more talented than they are? Lol wow, this is mean. I don't think so. Do you buy gum? Rarely, even though I like it. What's your favorite dollar store? I don’t have a favorite, I'd say? But I think we normally go to Dollar General. How many cell phones have you had in your lifetime? Maybe like, six? Have you ever been inside a Victorian mansion? BITCH I WISH!!!!!!!!!!!! I would kill to get married in one, omfGGGGGGGGGGG. What was the most boring field trip you ever want on? I don't remember a bad one. I loved going on field trips. The last time you went, what were your favorite rides at Cedar Point? I’ve never been. Which country would you most like to visit? Eeeeek idk, but probably South Africa. What are your favorite types of videos to watch on YouTube? What I watch on YouTube has become pretty diverse, but I know my favorites are easily Mark's actual big projects w/ egos 'n shit alksjdflk;w gOOD SHIT MY FRIENDS. I still love let's plays, of course! Are you a hoarder? No. Is there a guy (or girl) that you wish things had worked out with? Yes. If you were to start a collection, what would it be? I'd loooove Shadow of the Colossus stuff, particularly the amazing figures they used to have only in Japan. And World of Warcraft stuff; all I have rn is an Illidan poster and a fae dragon plushy hanging from my ceiling that Jason got me. If you were rich, what things would you get done cosmetically? Mother of god, a lot. #1, make me skinny again for the love of fuck. Which would result in loose skin being taken off and probably a breast lift because being overweight ruined my comfort with them laskdjfw. Whiten my teeth and give me laser hair removal surgery on my legs, please. Are your parents too controlling? Not at all. Who is your favorite fictitious redhead? VOL'JIN Blizzard what the FUCK give him BACK What shows have you seen on Broadway? None. Who is the prettiest Asian YouTuber that you can think of? Bitch Mark is Korean and he's gorgeous as fuck goddamn it ain't fair. But this is a weird question. What is the best news you've heard lately? When my mom got a follow-up blood test, things looked good!! She especially needed to level out her sugar, which she did well on. She also didn't lose or gain any weight, so that's wonderful. Have you ever flown first class? Hunny I am v poor. Have you ever had food SO bad in a restaurant that you sent it back? I don't believe so, anyway. Do you talk in your sleep? Very regularly now. Have you ever locked yourself out of your house? OOF, yes. Are you the type of person who can shake insults off easily, or do they tend to stick around in your brain & bother you? They stick with me for a long, long time. At least two I remember from years upon years ago. Who was the last person you cut out of your life intentionally? My old therapist that I trusted and loved when I fucking shouldn't have. Where were you raised? By who? Eastern NC, by my parents. What were your first words? "Dada." What were some of your favorite things when you were young? DINOSAURS, Webkinz, Pokemon, and Spyro, to name a few. What did you grow up listening to? Mostly country and pop music. What games did you play in the past? Spyro was my obsession, and I also loved hunting games (ironic, as irl I would never even consider it???) as well as fishing ones, plus Crash Bandicoot. What was the best birthday party you ever had? I'm not sure. How about the best vacation? I'm unsure; I haven't really been on a lot. Do you have any secrets you never intend to tell? Yup. What memory would you like to disappear from your mind forever? A nightmare I had about my dad. If you were someone else, would you be friends with the person you are now? Yeah. Do you consider yourself a smart person? No. What friend in your life has been the greatest influence to you? I don't know. Where is the scariest place you’ve ever been? What made it so terrifying? I shared a bedroom with an EXTREMELY volatile, violent woman once in the mental hospital. As in she had to go in solitary when she had a violent episode, during which she became very destructive to her surroundings, so as you could guess, I was worried about my own wellbeing. She was eventually moved because I was that uncomfortable. Did you celebrate Easter? Are there any holidays you are more inclined to celebrate than others? If so, which? Well, Easter hasn't come yet, but we'll probably go to my sister's house for the kids. We'll celebrate Christmas and Thanksgiving without fail. We don't pay much attention to others. I'd LOVE to do something for Halloween, we just never have anywhere to go/anything to do. What was the last thing you deleted? Pictures. What colors make up the majority of your wardrobe? Is there any color you like, but don’t wear often? There's black there. Oh, there's s'more black. What's that???? More bLACK????? MAN, I wish I could pull off pink. When was the last time you were in any amount of pain? I had a pretty intense headache yesterday. Who was the last person to hug you? Do you hug this person often? My niece, and yeah, every time I visit. What are you most likely to argue or debate about? The fact I almost never leave my pajamas lmao. What was the last show you watched? Have you seen it before, or is it something you’re watching for the first time? A few days back, I was reeeaaally bored and actually watched TV deliberately, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?????? It was The Witcher; wasn't bad. I'd be willing to watch more. How would you describe your taste in clothing? What would a dream outfit look like to you? uuuuuggggGHHHHHHHH let me be GOTH. Give me a corsette if they weren't notoriously uncomf with plenty of chains 'n stuff. BIG, SPIKY BOOTS. SKINNY LEATHER PANTS. UUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHH. Have you ever tried snowboarding? No. What’s your favorite planet besides Earth? Saturn is dope. Would you ever be a coach for any sport? Nope. What color of eyes do you have? Blue. Do you like tacos? NOOOOOOOOO. White or red wine? Wine is gross. Do you prefer foxes or wolves? Foxes. What’s the youngest you would consider dating? No younger than 21. Do you think suits are sexy? mmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Did you go to high school with your current best friend? No. What is your boss’ (or school prinicpal’s) name? N/A Were you a fan of Michael Jackson before he died? I was never really a fan. Respected him immensely as a musician, I just didn't care much about his music. Turkey or ham for Thanksgiving? Ham. Turkey is always too dry and stringy. Do you look good in hats? I wouldn't know, I haven't worn one in forever. Never with short hair. Colons or equal signs for your smiley face's eyes? Colons. Do you like architecture? If so, do you have a favourite style or structure that you’d like to make note? Yes, and I should really have an answer for this, as architecture was a big part in Art History... Ummm Etruscan stands out, and of course Roman/Greek (even after the class I don't remember their differences well...). I love Middle Eastern architecture, too. What is one of your favorite words, in any language, and why? I just love the sound of "serendipity," as well as uhhhh "sakura" in Japanese and "kanji" in Chinese. I'm trying to think of a German one, as there certainly are some, but they're evading me right now. Where is the farthest you’ve travelled on foot? JESUS FUCK probably going to get Sara's brother from school, mother of all that is holy. But it might just feel like it because it was during the peak of my muscle atrophy in my legs. Are there any songs that you perhaps like but avoid because it makes you sad when heard? A good number. Do you like the area that you live in? What do you like or dislike about the area? NO. There's not shit to do and it's not aesthetically pleasing at all. Do you have a memory of when you really thought that you have lucked out on something? If so, what was it? Uhhhhh. A handful, I guess? Oh, uh, the suicide attempt to name one and probably the biggest. I took way too many of those pills to experience almost zero symptoms of an overdose; I did look up what "too many" was, because I wanted that. I'd say I was pretty fuckin lucky. If you have apps on your mobile phone, which one do you use the most? Facebook. Which do you like better: fantasy or science fiction novels? Why? FANTASY!!! I think it allows more creativity and possibilities of something magically "making sense" because yeah, it's fantasy. Science fiction has more "realness" to it, more, obviously, scientific elements versus make-believe. Do you like opossums? Do you think it is ethically right for others to keep opossums as pets? OPOSSUMS!!!!!!!!! ARE!!!!!!!!!! FANTASTIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They're my second-favorite animals kdsja;lkdjaw. BUT ANYWAY, no, unless it's for rescue reasons. When was the last time someone asked you a huge favor or advice? Do you get asked often by this person? Oh I have no idea. Probably my mom? And no, definitely not. She hates asking for help. What are your thoughts on nihilism? I definitely get it, but it's not my personal outlook. Do you like the snow? More like love. What are your thoughts and feelings towards work/jobs in general? I don't know? I've never even had a real, steady job, so it's hard to really answer... I've only had bad experiences. It's kinda weird to me how you have to work your ass off (usually) to get a job you enjoy, as well as slave for some stupid green paper until the day you die just to stay alive and healthy. But at the same time, it offers a sense of fulfilment and is as well something productive and beneficial to the masses to do. Civilization would be very, very different and unadvanced if we were without them, so I guess it is a necessary thing. Humans gotta work together to keep where we're at. Do you believe in astrology? I've never actually elaborated why I don't believe in it so there ya go: not in the slightest. All it does is offer extremely broad characteristics that, in some light, almost anyone can relate to so they feel included in something. We naturally want to "belong" within something as social creatures, and astrology is an easy one with it being so vast. It gives equally indirect advice that can be applied to a multitude of situations, so people just mold what they read to fit their world. Don't base your goddamn life choices on the random positioning of shit in space. What is something that you’ve made/created? Do you take pride in your creations? Well, way way way too many OCs that I do indeed love a hell of a lot. If you have a Tumblr account, do you have any followers that you wish would not follow you? Well I'm sure there are bots. What kind of books do you generally enjoy to read? Fantasy stuff, mostly. But I also love novels with deep meaning, particularly about life in general. A good plot is mandatory. Does the quality of a video, on YouTube or a television, matter to you? I mean of course in some situations, like if I'm watching something educational/something to gain visual knowledge from. What is one situation that may cause you to become shy (if there is any)? Don't don't don't don't don't point out that my serious interests/things I massively love are "weird" like it's been years and I can still barely explain why my biggest tattoo is a tribute to some fuckface on the Internet lmao. When one is depressed, what can a friend do about it? Do you find that there is a good method to approach people in helping them combat depression? It is SO important to, first, ask them what they want. Do they want advice, an ear to just listen, just your presence, to be alone? As for combating depression, that greatly depends on the origin (if any) of theirs. There are so many factors in answering this question, but what I mentioned should, imo, always be the start. Do you tend to listen to music that embraces your mood or does music dictate your mood? Is it a little bit of both? Definitely both. When I'm sad though, I'm almost definitely listening to somber music too. Do you find yourself to be generally a forgiving person? I'm too goddamn forgiving. Do you have an embarrassing memory that you now look back at and can laugh? If so and if you’re comfortable, could you share one here? Omg I have a Bible-length collection of those suckers. I'd prefer not to. What is one skill that you have worked hard to develop? Is there still room for improvement on that skill? Damn, anxiety-coping mechanisms and actually trusting them to help me through attacks. I used to be convinced that they were useless because it just wouldn't work and weren't immediately effective, but you've gooooooot to trust the process, friends. What do you consider to be your main passion(s) and how did they come about? Spreading awareness of the seriousness of mental health and the comfort of knowing there's hope. You can never stop pushing. My own experience with mental health struggles is definitely the deeeep roots of that. Who do you think influenced you the most in your life so far? Why? Jason changed my life in many ways. Trauma does that. He taught me a lot about the necessity of having faith in yourself to survive on your own, a shitload about love and how it's not some fairy tale, and that people change, even those you least expect to. What is something that you have overheard people talk about that really bothered you? I could name more than a few things about race stuff, living where I do. What do you normally say or how do you normally act in response to a compliment? I usually do this shy laugh and say "thank you" with too much enthusiasm. How many books do you own? Do you have more physical books than electronic books? I've no clue where a lot of my old ones are. I have no electronic ones; I strongly prefer to read a physical book. What are your thoughts on higher education? Is it really necessary? In your opinion, what changes can be made? Depending on your aspiring career, it can be necessary, but just as easily, it can be unnecessary. I know for a fucking fact it should not be NEARLY as expensive as it is. Maybe even free, but I have no idea what monetary concerns that could cause with whoever runs the place. Have you ever received a heartfelt compliment from a stranger? Probably at some point. How many people would you consider to be extremely close to you? "Extremely"... like three lmao. Maybe one more or so. When was the last time you had to speak to a crowd? How well did that go? When I was taking pictures at a wedding last. It went okay. How would you describe your general outlook towards humanity? We by no means deserve to be the apex predator and Earth would be a shitload better without us. How long do you think you could last without any contact with your significant other, best friend, or a person whom you consider would be the closest to you? I'll use my mom here, in which case idk. I don't particularly want to find out. I talk to her at LEAST by text daily. Every day now that she can't work/is always home with me. Have you ever realised that someone was lying, but it was too late to confront them? Nope. Eventually speaking up is how I lost her, but.

#survey #quiz #questions

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babbushka · 5 years

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Blue Moon (2/?)

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New York, 1987. The air was filled with smog and the streets were ridden with crime. Just another day in paradise. Your quiet life turns upside down when a striking man moves in across from you. You’re falling, fast, into a love that could never, ever, happen…or could it?

Howdy y’all I’ve been really obsessed with this and couldn’t stop writing for it so!! Here’s chapter 2 of my Pale (from Burn This) x Reader fic! Also can be read as modern!kylo au for those who don’t know who Pale is lol

(Minor backstory/character spoilers for Pale!!)

Word Count: 4700

Warnings: N*FW (language, explicit material, drug use)

Chapter 2: No Promises

Pale had left after breakfast. He had needed to go to work, he put his dirty dishes in your sink. He smacked your ass and kissed you deeply, ate you out and left without a goodbye.

You had still been naked.

He didn’t say thank you for breakfast, for anything.

Then again, you didn’t expect him to. You didn’t really expect anything from him, how could you? That fucking wedding ring on his finger made you feel bad. You wondered if it was okay to ask for his phone number. You wondered if he even had a phone.

It wasn’t raining today, but you needed to bring Fishel back his umbrella. It wasn’t raining, but it wasn’t sunny either. You put on a pair of sunglasses anyway, wore a turtleneck. You needed to cover up the dark red splotches he had sucked into your skin.

You tried not to think about him at work. It was harder now that you had had his cock in you, had been fucked blind by him. You hadn’t slept at all, he kept you up the whole fucking night with that big dick and those big hands and that hot mouth of his. The bastard.

Didn’t your friend say he worked in the restaurant business? You wondered what he did. He looked like he belonged in the mob, not in a restaurant, with all that leather. You probably wouldn’t ask him any time soon, something about him said he didn’t like questions.

You could respect that, you didn’t really like them either. If he wanted to tell you, he’d tell you.

It was still early enough in the day that you were serving coffee. You had your regulars, Marty from the deli downstairs, Candace from the nail salon. Some truck drivers named Mac or Mike or Mark, you didn’t know. They all sounded the same and looked the same, big guys with flannel shirts and baseball caps, but they smiled at you and you smiled back and they left you nice tips.

The coffee was shitty before you started working there. You didn’t have a standard for much, aside from coffee. Fishel didn’t drink the stuff, you couldn’t believe that, but he had no idea it was bad. You came along, got a job there a couple years ago, and made him change brands. It was scorched before, but now people came in just because the smell was so good.

It was hard to find good coffee these days.

You were pouring coffee when the little bell on the door rang.

“Good morning!” You had said, not bothering to look at who it was. “I’ll be with ya in just a sec.”

“Take your time, I’m in no fuckin’ rush.” A deep voice said, making you still.

You came this close to spilling the coffee, overflowing it in Blanche’s cup.

Pale seated himself in one of the booths in the back. Folks weren’t supposed to seat themselves at the diner.

He looked like he had showered at least, that was good. He looked good.

You nodded to Blanche, made your way over to Pale’s booth.

“Morning honey.” He said, without a care in the world, striking up a cigarette. He pushed the table a little aways from him, patted his lap. “C’mere.”

You knew you shouldn’t – it was inappropriate, someone could see, not that anyone could actually probably see if they wanted to, the way the booth was shoved in a corner behind a plant, you could suck his dick and no one would know. Maybe you would suck his dick.

You sat on his lap, sitting sideways. One of his hands immediately went to grip you inner thigh.

“How come you’re not at work?” You asked, looping your arms around his neck. You kissed at his cheek, his ear, his neck. Worried the gold chain between your teeth for a little bit.

His hand wedged itself between your thighs, snuck down to your pussy and was teasing at the folds there. He didn’t shove his fingers into you or anything, not yet anyway. Your heart was beating fast, anyone could turn their heads and see.

Someone might have needed coffee and asked for you, and they’d see.

“I was drivin’ down eighth street – what a load of fucking shit that road is – in my fucking car trying to find a god damned parking space, when a cop pulls me the fuck over and says I’m speeding. I say, how am I speedin’, there’s no fucking sign telling me how fast to go. He gives me a ticket, made me late to work. I called up Jerry, you know Jerry?” He asked, but you shake your head, trying not to moan as he rubs at you, makes you wet. “Anyway I call Jerry and I tell the jackass that I’m gonna be late, but he tells me he’s closing up the fucking place for the day anyway. Something about his fucking anniversary, wants to spend it with his wife, like I give a shit. Who the fuck closes down a place of business for an entire fucking day to celebrate an anniversary? Not me I tell you that, I’ve never taken a single day of work in over five fucking years – anniversaries.”

“So you’re off today?” You asked, a little breathy.

“Didn’t you hear me? Yeah I’m off today.” He frowned.

“Are you high?” You asked again.

“I might’ve done a couple lines.” He sniffed. You kissed his nose.

He pulled his hand away from your pussy, sucked on the fingers with a loud pop. Your cheeks heated up, he let go of you. You still stayed on his lap.

“What are you thinking about? I’m a real good listener.” He said, turning your jaw to look him deep in the eyes. Oh yeah he was high, you could tell by his pupils, blown wide open.

“I’m thinking about how you found me.” You hummed, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Happenstance.” He smirked.

“You sure about that?” You smiled at him, and he licked his teeth. Smoked his cigarette.

“Yeah I’m fuckin’ sure.” He said, then gesturing to the empty mug on his table, “Give me a cup of coffee.”

You rolled your eyes, slid off his lap, and grabbed the coffee pot from the little warming plate you had shoved it on, on your way Pale’s booth. He watched you walk back over, watched you pour the coffee, watched you bend over to grab a napkin when you accidentally spilled some onto the table. You didn’t like coffee rings. You wanted to show off your tits.

Pale downed the coffee in four long gulps, you refilled it.

“I’m surprised you came into a diner in the first place, considering.” You said.

You had thought you fed him enough that morning, between the breakfast and then when he laid you out on the kitchen table and buried his face in your cunt once the dishes were in the sink.

He couldn’t keep his hands off you. Over the clothes this time, as you were standing in front of his booth with a hand on your hip, the other one holding the coffee pot. He reached over to you and had wrapped a big warm hand around your thigh, was trailing his fingers up the back of it, making you shiver.

What was he doing here?

“I saw you in the fucking window, can you fuckin’ believe that? Drivin’ by on the way back to my apartment after Jerry said he was closing the fuckin’ restaurant, stuck at a red fucking light and what do I see in the window? I saw your pretty fucking face and pull over. Watched you walk back and forth, and back and forth. Pouring coffee, serving pancakes, back and fucking forth. Taking orders wiping down the bar making fucking milkshakes back and fucking forth. Don’t you ever sit down? Made me dizzy. Had to pull over.” He said, exhaling smoke. It curled around the window, you saw his car out in the parking lot.

It was a nice car, a shiny black thing. You didn’t know the make or model or nothing, but it was the only one that was washed in the whole lot.

His hand creeped up your ass, you shimmied away. He grabbed your wrist and brought it to his lips, biting lightly, making you smile.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble.” You said, making him scoff.

“What, never been in any fuckin’ trouble before?” He asked, leaning back into the booth. You wanted to ride him. “Some trouble would do you good.”

“I’m a good girl.” You said instead, feeling very much the opposite.

That made him smile.

“What’s your name?” He asked, and you smiled back.

You walked away, you had customers you had to serve.

Pale stayed for two hours. Didn’t order anything but the coffee, didn’t touch you the whole rest of the time he was there. He just sat and smoked and watched you. He looked like he was on edge, you wondered if he didn’t know what to do with himself, being off work for the day. Not a day off in five years, he had said, right? He chucked a couple dimes in the jukebox, didn’t play nothing too obnoxious.

He left fifty bucks on the table when he left. Two twenties and a ten. You didn’t want it, despite needing it. Something in you didn’t want his hand-outs. You’d take his dick, you’d hog his time, but you wouldn’t just take his money. You were a lot of things, but you weren’t that. You barely knew him.

You knew him a lot better than you knew half the people in this diner.

You brought it to the register, paid the dollar ninety-nine for the coffee, and took the rest back to the kitchen where Fishel was working.

“Here,” You said, handing him the bills. “Some big shot told me to keep the change.” You weren’t in the mood to make this something it wasn’t.

Fishel made a face at the money, didn’t take it from you when you held it out to him.

“Why are you givin’ it to me?” He asked, “You earned it.”

“Nah Fish, he only got a cup of coffee.” You said, making him look up at you with his eyebrows raised.

“And he left you fifty bucks?” He clicked his tongue, whistled low, “Jeez sweetheart, that is some big shot.”

“Please take the money, Fish.” You sighed, not wanting him to think it was something it wasn’t. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t anything. “Split it up between the other waitresses, I don’t care. I don’t want it.”

“Was he bein’ mean to you?” Fishel frowned, the lines in his forehead getting all deep. Sometimes you thought about how old Fish was.

“No, he was real sweet.” You said, pausing for a minute and then trying your best not to sound suspect when you asked, “Didn’t you see him?”

“How could I have seen anyone (Y/N), I’ve been back here all day.” Fishel laughed, a low throaty thing.

“He wasn’t mean.” You reassured him. “Is Maria coming in tonight?”

He wiped his hands on the little towel over his shoulder, took the money from you and tucked it into your apron pocket. You smiled.

“No, she had to cancel.” He said apologetically, “Can you cover for her?”

“Yeah why not.” You shrugged.

“Thanks sweetheart.” Fishel said, going back into the office for a little bit.

It might be good for you to work the double, get some distance. You didn’t think your headboard could take it if Pale fucked you into next week like he had.

You went back out to the front and poured coffee.

You were dead on your feet by the time you were pushing the key into the lock of your front door, absolutely exhausted from work. You were grateful for the long days and the tips that came with them, but your legs were cramping and your back hurt and all you wanted was to have your soup and get some fucking sleep.

You closed the door behind you, dropped your bag right on the welcome mat and kicked your shoes off.

It was so quiet in your building, you could hear the last bits of traffic outside, the honking horns, the sirens. There were always sirens these days, people needed to stop calling the cops, you thought.

“You got a really shitty apartment, you know that?” A voice from the other room made you jump.

Pale was sitting on the couch in your living room, smoking a cigarette. From the looks of the ashtray on your coffee table, he had been there a while.

“Thanks.” You said dryly, then, “What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question, exhaling smoke through his nose making your apartment all cloudy. He ran a hand through his hair, and then waved it around at the room.

“Could use, I don’t know, some fucking flowers. Or something.” He commented, making you roll your eyes. “Some furniture.”

You had exactly enough furniture for what you needed, thank you very fucking much.

You shrugged off your coat and hung it on the hook by the door, inspecting the doorknob. It didn’t look damaged from this side or anything like that.

“How did you get in?” You asked, returning to the living room.

Pale smirked, stretched out his long legs and cracked the joints in his knees. He was looking at you with that same hungry expression as always, and you already felt your stomach start to flutter.

“Your lock ain’t too hard to jimmy, sweetheart.” He almost chuckled, quirked an eyebrow at you and took another drag.

“Did you break it?” You wanted to kiss him.

“Didn’t have to.” Pale shoved the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray and spread his legs, patting one of his thighs. “Come here, I’ve had a stressful fucking day.”

You had had one too, and you almost wanted to point it out, but you went anyway. Straddling his thighs on your old leather couch in your shitty apartment felt good. Kissing him and having him stick his hand under your skirt, fingers pull aside your panties and shove themselves into your cunt felt even better.

He smirked at the little noises you were making, the sharp intakes of breath.

“Don’t go shy on me you whore,” He said when you whined, “You ain’t at work now, let me fucking hear you, come on.”

He bit down on your nipple over your clothes at the same time as he pressed hard on your clit, dragging his thumb over it roughly. You cried out then, loud. It made him groan, he did it again.

His hands were so big, it spanned almost the entirety of your face when he grabbed at your jaw, took his fingers out of your pussy and smeared them over your lips, sticking them in your mouth so you could suck them clean.

“Blow me.” He said, and you slid off his lap easily, only wincing a little when your knees hit the floor.

Kneeling in front of him, you opened his pants and pulled his cock out. There was no way you were fitting that fucking thing down your throat tonight, but you could get in a decent amount. You thought about what he had said the night before, about training you to take his dick.

You wanted to be good for him, maybe he’d be good for you too. He wouldn’t, you knew he wouldn’t, but maybe.

Holding it in both of your hands, you swirled your tongue around the head of his oozing cock. You lapped up the pre-come there, sucked on it with enough pressure to make Pale tip his head back against your couch, fist your hair tight. He forced you down onto it more, making you gag, tears coming to your eyes out of reflex.

“Fuck, that’s it.” He grunted, as you choked on his cock.

Your hands flew up to his thighs to steady yourself, you could feel the muscle there tensing under your touch. He was thrusting into your throat, pushing his slick and your spit against the roof of your mouth. You were careful to watch your teeth.

His grip on your hair tightened. It hurt your scalp, but you couldn’t pull away to bitch about it. You were sweating, working hard to get him riled up, to make him feel good.

Your hands made up for whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth, jerking him off in a way that made those thighs twitch. Occasionally you rolled his balls, and he almost kneed you in the face. How would you have explained that black eye?

“I can’t fucking wait to get my cock in you after this.” He breathed out, and something like pride filled your chest.

You could tell you were doing a good job, switching from sucking to just opening your mouth as much as you could to let him fuck your throat was easy enough, but every now and again he would get too enthusiastic and pull out too far, slipping out of your mouth.

You took those moments to lick from the base of his dick to the very tip, trace your tongue under the head, in his slit. He cursed loud when you did that, hips pushing up into your face. You did it again, and again until he was panting.

Without any warning he yanked your head off of him just in time to paint come all over your face.

You stayed on the ground, on your knees for a minute, looked up at him through your lashes. You could feel his sticky come on your cheek, licked up what you could. Your muscles were sore.

“Do you like baths?” You asked. He had said he had a stressful day, maybe he could use one as much as you could.

“How’s that?” He blinked, too blissed out for the moment.

“Taking a bath, do you like to?” You repeated.

“Sometimes.” He shrugged.

You got up off of your knees, started taking your clothes off, right there in the living room. You could feel Pale’s stare burning into your skin.

“Take one with me?” You asked.

“Can I fuck you there?” He asked back.

“You can fuck me wherever you want.” You smiled, standing completely naked before him. He looked like he wanted to jump you, and you wouldn’t be that opposed to that, “But I’d like to take a bath.”

“So then let’s take a fucking bath.” Pale said, getting up too.

You smiled again and walked to the bathroom, Pale close behind you. He kept a hand on you, didn’t like to let go. It made your stomach do those stupid flips again.

“Jesus you really don’t got any fucking furniture, huh?” Pale asked, leaning against the doorway to the bathroom as you went to plug the tub.

You shot him a dirty look, and he put his hands up in defense.

You had exactly a sink, a toilet, and a bathtub, what the hell else did he expect you to have?

“This thing leaks.” He noted, when you turned on the faucet, dropped in some soap to make it bubble up.

“That’s what all the towels are for.” You gestured to the bunched up towels around the claw feet of the bathtub.

When the tub was as full as it was gonna get, he went in first. You had tried to judge the water level so it wouldn’t spill all over the fucking place when the two of you were in it together, but when you climbed in after him some sloshed over the edge anyway.

Whatever, you had the towels.

Pale sat with his knees up, rested his head against one edge of the tub. You sat on his lap facing him, your back resting against his knees. He looked at you for a long time, lifted his hand to rub bubbles against your tits.

“You look like you got mauled.” He commented, and you laughed.

“Yeah, a wild animal got me.” You teased.

“Hey I ain’t no wild fuckin’ animal.” He sat up a little, making you fall against his chest for support. “Didn’t you see the present I left ya?” He asked, kissing you, making you hot.

“Oh we’re giving gifts now?” You acted innocent, but your smile gave you away. The money was in your coat pocket, on the floor in the living room. Maybe you could sneak it back into his wallet without him noticing.

He kissed you again, slid his tongue against yours as he grabbed you around your waist and groaned when you reached down and guided his hard cock into you, sinking down on it.

“Shit.” He hissed, making you grin.

You planted your knees on the bottom of the tub, held on to his shoulders as you rode him.

The hot water loosened up your muscles, made you relaxed. He thrust up into you easy, you moaned like a whore for him.

“Been fucking looking forward to this pussy all day.” He grunted. Water sloshed onto the floor as he bucked up into you.

“Oh yeah?” You gasped, feeling those butterflies again.

“Yeah.” He slid his hands up from your waist to grope at your tits, spread the soapy bubbles around and pinched at your nipples. “You didn’t fucking come home when I thought you would, you slut.”

So he had been waiting a while, you thought. You didn’t have much room for thought, not when you bounced on his cock like that.

“Not my fault, had to work a double.” You moaned out, let your head fall back. Your hair got all wet in the tub.

“I don’t fucking like it.” He grumbled, taking advantage of that to suck another mark on your neck. You whined, he sucked harder.

“You don’t have to.” You said, tangling a hand in his hair.

The wetness from your hand dampened his waves, made them flatten down against his head, made his ears stick out.

You nibbled on one of his ears, you thought they were sweet. Was just about the only fucking sweet thing about him, you thought.

He fucked you in the bathtub for a long while, sloshing water all over and panting against your lips. Hot, open mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulders, spitting out the soap when it got in his mouth. He loved to lay back and watch, always watching you. You liked putting on a show for him, you preened under his stare.

He came in you, stayed there for a bit. You wiggled your hips, impatient, you wanted to get off too.

“I’m too big for this fucking tub.” He said with a pleased sigh.

“Me too.” You licked your lips, “Bed?”

Pale fucked you into your mattress, your headboard smacking into the wall. You were gonna get a call from your neighbors, if that didn’t do it then your loud moans would.

You liked it when he was on top, the weight of him pressing you down. You liked it when he wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezed just enough to make you moan and not say or do much else.

He lifted your thigh up with his other hand, held it in place as he fucked into you hard, pushed you up on the bed with his thrusts. You were so close, so so close, all you needed was a little bit more and you could come and pass the fuck out and go to sleep.

You were glad you didn’t have work tomorrow, you didn’t know if you could’ve managed to stand after this.

“You like that you fucking slut?” He pressed down harder on your throat as he railed you, made you see stars.

“Yeah, Pale – yes!” You gasped when he let up enough for you to gulp down air.

He was sweating, so fucking sweaty from all the hard work he was doing, making you feel good. It dripped off the ends of his hair, his nose, his chain. You thought he’d need another bath when he was done with you, if he was ever done with you.

“Say it.” He grunted, baring his teeth.

“I’m a – a slut.” You hiccupped, having to breathe and speak and moan all at the same time.

“Who’s slut?” He gripped your thigh tight, it was gonna bruise, fuck you were gonna be just one big bruise.

“Your slut!” You cried out.

“That’s fucking right.” He licked at your open mouth, your teeth. “You’re my slut and this is my cunt.” He bit your lips, your jawline.

His hips snapped at each word, and you clenched down around him, remembering what he told you last night.

“Please, Pale, please touch me.” You begged, you couldn’t help but beg, your voice a high whine.

He nodded, wordlessly let go of your thigh to rub at your clit, press down on it until you were seeing stars, cursing loud in his ear.

He liked that, you could tell. You liked it too.

“Come in me.” You gasped.

He bared his teeth again, moaned as you went all pliant and relaxed from your orgasm.

You laid there, took his cock so well, pushed the sweaty hair out of his face and sucked on his tongue as his hips pushed you up and up the bed, until they stopped, and he had his face all pinched up, until it wasn’t.

You were both breathing heavy, he was this close to resting his forehead against yours. His hair fell in his face, you pushed it back behind his ears. He frowned.

He stayed in you, even as he went soft, finally spent for the night. He was heavy, but you didn’t mind. Fucked up part of you felt safe; being caged in by his arms, his wide back protecting you from the moonlight.

He was so sweaty, so warm. Was a person supposed to be this warm?

“I got two kids, you know.” He said apropos of nothing.

“I didn’t.” You said, your heart beating.

Cop sirens were blaring in the distance, you thought that was a bit dramatic.

He slid out of you, rolled over and settled down on his back next to you.

He leaned over, opened a drawer of your bedside table and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. You frowned, you didn’t smoke. He must have put them there. You wondered what the hell else he hid in your apartment when you weren’t here. Maybe you’d go on a treasure hunt tomorrow, you thought.

“You need a new fucking tub, one that doesn’t leak water all over the god damned place and that actually fucking fits a human.” Pale said, taking a deep drag of his cigarette, sighing out smoke. “I work hard, I got a lot of money, I could get you a new fucking tub. You need one.”

“I like my bathtub.” You smiled.

“What, did you fuckin’ build it yourself?” Pale asked, sarcastically pinching your cheek, making you smile bigger.

“Somethin’ like that.” You said, stretching. You shuffled around on the bed, tucked yourself against him. You didn’t know if that was allowed, but you did it anyway. He let you, anyway. “I’m off work tomorrow.”

“Good.” He said, and you hummed in agreement.

“I know you gotta work.” You said. No days off.

“Yeah.” He rubbed a hand over his face. He looked tired, you wondered if he had had any more coke since when he was at the diner. You wondered if he’d fall asleep with you.

“Will you stop by?” You asked. You didn’t want to piss him off again by not being home if he was gonna pay you a visit. Not that you were gonna leave the apartment anyway.

“No promises.” He said, but the way his lip twitched into an almost smile said otherwise.

You laid your head down on his chest, fell asleep to him smoking his cigarette.

He wasn’t there when you woke up. Of course he wasn’t.

Ahh! Lol that’s it for this one :) The next chapter is from Pale’s perspective, so be on the lookout for that sometime early next week! <33

Tagging some pals! As always, if you’d like to be added or taken off the list please just shoot me a message! @fullofbees @spinebarrel @oh-adam@dreamboatdriver @bad–bad–man @thecurlycaptain@bourbonboredom @driverficarchive@aweirdlookingtree@rosalynbair@redhairedfeistynerd@adamsnackdriver @glitzescape@arwarz @adamsnacc-kler @kyloxfem@fallin-for-youreyes @kylo-renne @reyloaddict55

#reader insert #pale x reader #kylo ren x reader #burn this #burn this broadway #adam driver x reader #blue moon #my writing #edit: fixed some dumb typos lol

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snarkybluechristian · 5 years

Text

Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 6

Vaggie immediately tossed the shoes to the side and began running through the house as quickly as she could. She bolted up the stairs and only allowed herself to catch her breath when she was back on the floor that she remembered her bedroom being on. As Vaggie leaned against the blood-red wall, her eyes settled on a mirror on the wall across from where she was standing. In the mirror, Vaggie could see the bruises on her neck. They didn’t camouflage into her purple skin at all. The spots were dark red, fresh, and plain to see. A shudder ran through Vaggie’s spine. Alastor was no genius at romance, but he was right about hickeys. They were a way to mark territory. Vaggie covered them with her hands fearfully as she remembered her “patrons” back in El Salvador and what they did when they started getting possessive. Vaggie felt a fearful tear run down her cheek before she took a deep breath to give herself strength. She would not be a rich man’s property. Not again… “I don’t care how obsessed you are with me,” Vaggie said turning away from the mirror and wandering around her room searching for Angel as she briefly reflected on Alastor’s behavior. It was beyond creepy, especially that line, “Women are made to bear and so are you…” Vaggie shook her head and forced herself to focus on the task at hand. What happened happened, but Angel still needed her help. Vaggie crept the hallway quietly listening for any sign of Angel. “Alright, if I were a freaky, sex-crazed Mary Poppins, where would I hide my victims?” Vaggie questioned out loud. Suddenly, Vaggie heard the sound of Angel’s screams coming from just ahead of her. “AHHHHHHHH!” Angel screamed out in agony before he laughed painfully. “Oh, baby! More! More!” His voice caused Vaggie to shudder fearfully in her tracks as she finally found the room, twisted the knob open, and peeked inside. Vaggie held her hands over her mouth to cover her horrified gasp. Angel was chained on a rack with his back exposed, his arms chained up, and his legs held in restraints. The poor spider demon had scars on his back from the leather whip Rosie was holding in her hands. In a flash, Rosie lashed her whip against Angel’s bare back again causing the spider demon to scream out in agony. Rosie turned the wheeled contraption Angel was strapped to around, wrapped her leather-covered leg around his waist, pushed her chest against his, and asked, “Are you sure about that, sweetie?” “I can take anything you can dish out, lady,” Angel said before his eyes locked with Vaggie’s. Angel’s eyes flashed in panic as Rosie’s wrinkled lips locked with his. Then Angel said, “Lady, please, this is torture…” “Oh?” Rosie asked licking Angel’s cheeks. “Yeah,” Angel answered with a smirk. “You pressing your sweaty, saggy tits against my bruised chest really stings!” Rosie then kicked Angel in the chest, spun him around, and began whipping him more viciously than before. It suddenly occurred to Vaggie that Angel said this on purpose so that Rosie would be distracted. She quickly glanced around the room for anything she could use as a distraction. Vaggie’s eyes settled on a vase on a table down the hall holding more of those blood red flowers. The vase gave her an idea. It was a bad one, but bad ideas were better than no ideas at all at this point. So, Vaggie pulled out a spare knife she had hidden on her person and tossed it at the vase causing it to shatter on contact. Vaggie then backed herself against the wall and held her breath as she heard Rosie stop her whipping and run into the hall. When she dared to look at her, she had to keep herself from gagging. Rosie was dressed in a leather dominatrix outfit with absurdly high stripper heels. “Oh, Vaggie…” Rosie called out upon noticing the broken vase. “You silly, silly little girl. You should know better than to interrupt my playtime…” In a flash, Rosie dashed right down the hall and disappeared out of sight. When she vanished, Vaggie breathed a sigh of relief and ran back into the room to see Angel panting in exhaustion. Vaggie quickly shut the door and said, “Angel…?” “Is she gone?” Angel quickly interrupted. “Yes, I think so,” Vaggie said quietly. “Oh, thank God,” Angel said breathing a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you’re here.” “Shhh…” Vaggie said running over to the other side of the rack to look Angel in the eye. “I’ll get you down, but you have to be quiet. You got it? How do I get you down from there?” “The keys are on that table,” Angel said gesturing with his head to a bedside table with a lamp and a book on it. Vaggie quickly grabbed the keys and began releasing all of Angel’s limbs from the rack. When she was done, Angel fell forward on the ground tiredly. “Angel, are you alright?” Vaggie asked fearfully worried that Angel was injured. “Can you walk?” “Yeah, babe,” Angel said with a smile as he reabsorbed his extra pair of arms and got to his feet while putting on his coat that was lying on the floor. “How about you? I see those hickeys. Alastor must be a rougher lover than I imagined. I’m jealous.” “It was completely non-consensual. I assure you,” Vaggie said angrily as she began pushing the contraption towards the door to block it. “Now, we need to get out of here before…” “There you are!” the merry British demon’s voice called out as she stopped the contraption where it stood. “What are you doing here, Vaggie? Did you want to play, too? Angel and I could always use another partner…” Vaggie pushed back against Rosie’s grip before she felt Angel grabbing her arm and pulling her back behind him just as Rosie rolled the contraption across the room to get a better look at her captives. Angel stepped in front of Vaggie as he summoned his Tommy gun and his bat. Vaggie looked around for a weapon and only found the book and the lamp, so she grabbed the lamp off the table with one hand and grabbed the book to use as a shield. “Oh, dear,” Rosie said with an amused smile. “Do you two intend to fight back? How adorable. I love it when I can get down and dirty!” “Bring it on, you dominatrix bitch!” Vaggie spat back. Angel stuck his tongue out and said lewdly, “I’m gonna screw you as you screwed me, ya crazy bitch. I hope you’re ready.” “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Vaggie said out loud. “Make your way to the window,” Angel muttered to Vaggie gesturing his head back towards the window. “And prepare to jump…” “Got it,” Vaggie replied with a nod. “Oh, I am so defenseless,” Rosie retorted sarcastically putting one hand on her hip and twiddling her fingers against her face with the other hand. “What’s a little old lady to do?” Then with a snap of her fingers, Rosie summoned her umbrella and six penguin familiars and said, “Ladies, how about you show these brutes some manners?” “Bring it, bitch!” Angel yelled back as Vaggie threw open the window. “Vaggie, grab on!” Vaggie dropped her lamp and grabbed onto Angel’s side as he dissolved his bat and picked her up with his extra arms, but unfortunately before Angel and Vaggie could jump out the window, the window slammed in their face. “Enough!” Alastor’s voice suddenly rang out. The three demons and penguin villains turned to look at Alastor who suddenly appeared on the other side of the room. “I believe we can settle this dispute in a more civilized manner,” Alastor said stepping between the two warring parties. “That is if you two are willing to cooperate…” Angel reflexively held Vaggie tighter against his side and took another step backward as Alastor continued, “How about this? Vaggie, if you stay with me, I will let this hairy mess go. Then as long as you are obedient and loving, I will let you visit the Hotel once a month. What do you say, dear?” Vaggie knew she didn’t have a choice. Angel couldn’t stay there. He had already suffered enough. If Vaggie said no, Angel would spend the rest of eternity as Rosie’s sex slave. Not even he deserved that. “I’ll…” Vaggie began before she felt a hand cover her mouth. “Hold it right there, bucko,” Angel interrupted as he pointed his gun straight at Alastor. “You have to fuckin’ insane to think that I’m goin’ to just leave and let you pound Vaggie like a goddamn piece of meat. I ain’t leavin’ without her. And if that means I have to claw my way outta here with her, so be it.” Alastor’s eyes twitched for a brief second before he flashed a cruel smile, snapped his fingers causing Angel’s gun to disappear and Vaggie’s lamp to disappear, and said, “Suit yourself then.” Before either Angel or Vaggie had time to react, Alastor tapped his staff on the ground and instantly teleported everyone present into a dark, cool dungeon room. The cell was built completely out of gray stone. It was oddly spacious and horizontally long, able to hold the four demons comfortably, and that was about the best thing about it. There were a toilet and a sink with a mirror on the back wall on one end of the cell to their right, a single bed with a bare mattress and pillow on the other end of the cell to the left, and chains hanging on the bare wall between them. The only light sources were a lightbulb with a pull-string hanging from the ceiling and a small, horizontal window about the size of a two-by-four board above the bed where the light met the ceiling. Iron prison bars made up the fourth wall. Their cold, menacing, vertical poles were spaced evenly and only interrupted by an iron bar door on the very right which at the moment was hanging open with a black key hanging in the lock of the door much like it would be in jail cells from the 1930s. Vaggie and Angel looked around fearfully at their new surroundings. The cell was oddly clean, but there were still faint blood stains on the walls where the chains were. That was enough to make Vaggie let out an involuntary gasp. “You know, Alastor…” Rosie began interrupting the thoughts of the two frightened prisoners practically backed up against the wall as she dismissed her minions and leaned back against the prison bars. “Vaggie hasn’t had a chance to answer the question herself.” “Hmmmmm…you’re right, Rosie,” Alastor replied with a smile glancing back at her before returning his gaze back to Vaggie. “So, what is your answer, Vaggie? If you stay here with me willfully, I will let Angel go, but if you refuse, he will stay and you two will both be at our disposal. So, tell me. What will it be?” Vaggie squirmed until Angel finally dropped her on the floor and then slowly walked up to Alastor looking him in the eye as much as her smaller frame would allow. “Vaggie…” Angel tried to complain. Vaggie held her hand up to tell Angel to be quiet and said boldly, “Alastor, I promise to spend every day for the rest of my eternal life fighting for my freedom. I will never give in to you!” Alastor’s eyes narrowed as he said, “Well, then. As punishment for your defiant behavior and your trespassing, you two can spend the night in this cell…” Alastor, Rosie, and Rosie’s minions instantly teleported outside the cell. Alastor quickly locked the door, took the key, and continued, “Rosie and I will come for you in the morning, Vaggie. Have a good night, you two!” The Radio Demon quickly right down the hallway out of sight. Rosie stood there for a second quietly flashing a cruel smile as her familiars disappeared before finally following behind her friend. Vaggie stood in place tensely as Angel laid himself out over the bed and stretched out his limbs. “Well, looks like you and I are spending the night here, Vaggie,” Angel said nonchalantly folding his arms behind his head on top of the pillow. Vaggie didn’t respond but continued staring at the hallway in front of their cell. A look of concern flashed through Angel’s eyes before he said, “Hey, doll? Vaggie? Are ya there?” Vaggie finally looked over to Angel. The spider demon tapped the old mattress and said, “What do you wanna do, doll, the day is still young?” Vaggie tiredly sat on the bed next to him holding the book on top of her lap and sighed. She glanced over to Angel and cringed when she noticed him staring at her with a smirk. “Why are you staring at me like that?” Vaggie demanded. “You still owe me,” Angel said playfully. Vaggie looked at Angel in confusion until she finally had her revelation. “Oh, my God,” Vaggie said in growing annoyance. “What?” Angel asked playfully. “You only stayed here because I owed you?!” Vaggie yelled. Angel sighed with a playful smirk that got on Vaggie’s nerves and said, “It beats the therapy sessions back home. Besides, this was too good an opportunity to pass up, babe.” Vaggie took a deep breath to calm down and conceded, “Okay, fine. What the hell do you want?” “Just give me a moment to…” Angel said nonchalantly allowing himself to wonder before he got his idea. “Wait. I know just the thing!” Angel sat up, threw off his coat to reveal his bare chest, posed dramatically, and said, “I want you to snuggle between my fluffy tits!” “WHAT?!” Vaggie asked incredulously. “You can’t be serious!” “I’m completely serious,” Angel said playfully running his gloved hands through his chest fluff. “My skin under my fur gets cold. I need warmth. Think of it as my way of saying thanks. I don’t let anyone do it for free. My customers say it’s like heaven in here.” “Forget it,” Vaggie said in annoyance putting the book at the head of the bed next to Angel’s pillow and laying down so that she was not facing him. “I’ll just use the book. I’m not resting my head on your STD-contaminated fur.” “Hey!” Angel retorted. “I’ll have you know that I wash it every day. But if that’s how you feel, babe, suit yourself.” Vaggie laid down for a few minutes but very quickly got uncomfortable. She turned over and stared at Angel’s chest longingly. His fluff looked so soft and silky… “Like what ya see, hon?” Angel teased. “Fine,” Vaggie snarled as she reluctantly sat up and climbed on top of Angel’s chest. “But this never happened. Understand?” “Whatever you say, hon,” Angel retorted playfully as Vaggie slowly lowered her head onto Angel’s fluffy chest. Vaggie lowered herself gingerly as if she were getting used to hot water in a bathtub. Angel rolled his eyes and used his lower pair of arms to push Vaggie’s head on top of his chest. “Angel?!” Vaggie yelled in protest before her head sank into the chest fluff. “Oh, my God. This is so soft…It feels like cashmere…” Angel chuckled as his lower arms pulled his coat over Vaggie and himself to keep them warm. “That’s it, doll,” Angel said soothingly as his arms rested on Vaggie’s back. “Just relax. We both need this.” Vaggie tensed up again as she began to realize the gravity of the situation that they were in. Vaggie began shuddering fearfully and taking shallow breaths, but before it could get any worse, Angel started rubbing her back. He didn’t say or do anything else. He just rubbed her back until her breathing finally returned to normal. Angel then took a deep breath and picked up the book next to his head. “What’s this?” Angel said before he read the title. “The Taming of the Shrew? Oh, my God! I haven’t seen this one in decades!” Vaggie lifted her head up and scowled. “That book again?” Vaggie asked incredulously. “Dammit. Alastor tossed me that fucking book yesterday to entertain myself while he ran off to talk to Rosie. The nerve of that guy. What’s that book about anyway?” “It ain’t a book, doll,” Angel replied excitedly turning open to the first page. “It’s a Shakespeare play. We read it in school. Oh, God, this one was one of my favorites! It’s been forever. Want me to read it to ya?” “We still have daylight and we’re gonna be stuck in here until tomorrow morning, so why not?” Vaggie conceded. “Alright,” Angel said excitedly. “I’ll try to explain all the stuff that’s kinda confusin’, but just let me know if you’re having trouble followin’ along.” Vaggie smiled and relaxed into Angel’s fluff as he began reading the story.

#hazbin hotel #hazbinhotelvaggie #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel angeldust

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alien-earz · 7 years

Text

about me

Fancy knowing anything about me?

1: Full name Kirstie Taylor King Turcotte

2: Age: 20

3: 3 Fears: deep water, creepy crawly bugs, pizza place doesnt deliver

4: 3 things I love: music, art, laughing

5: 4 turns on: if you funny, gentle, and can have deep conversations

6: 4 turns off: big ego, doesn’t show he cares, ugly shoes

7: My best friend: nobody wants to be close to me long enough

8: Sexual orientation: str8

9: My best first date: ohhh maaannnn.... somewhere in a waterfall in a foreign country

10: How tall am I: 5′3

11: What do I miss: not having to adult

12: What time were I born: 7:30 am!

13: Favourite color: dreamy purples and green and blue and anything lovely

14: Do I have a crush: yeessssss!

15: Favourite quote: let it go, let it leave, let it happen. nothing in this world was promised or belonged to you anyway. all you own is yourself.

16: Favourite place: new zealand or anywhere with a beautiful sunset

17: Favourite food: all da food! but mostly hummus

18: Do I use sarcasm: ....noooo :3

19: What am I listening to right now: bedroom-nostalgic feeling!

20: First thing I notice in new person: the beautiful smiles

21: Shoe size: 7

22: Eye color: bluuuueee

23: Hair color: dirty blonde

24: Favourite style of clothing: dirty mop grungy just crawled out of a trashcan unique

25: Ever done a prank call?: pretty sure i wasted my adolescence prank calling people

27: Meaning behind my URL: i like to get high

28: Favourite movie: oh maaann! idek. the grinch probs. i know err word.

29: Favourite song: i have a million favorite songs. but my favorite song at the moment is hodera-breathe easy because the guitar sounds so dreamy and beautiful

30: Favourite band: nevershoutnever is my guilty pleasure

31: How I feel right now: weird

32: Someone I love: everyone who ever made me feel loved

33: My current relationship status: d8ing

34: My relationship with my parents: terrible

35: Favourite holiday: halloweeny because i love being creepy

36: Tattoos and piercing i have: i only have my belly button pierced but i have 8 tattoos and ive had a million piercings in my life time.

37: Tattoos and piercing i want: i want to get my septum re pierced annnnndddd i want an avocado tattoo’d on my arm

38: The reason I joined Tumblr: because it was cool af in grade 10

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other?: no way, we were friends for a long time before.

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?: ermm... sometimes i guess

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?: yep!

42: When did I last hold hands?: yesterday in the car with my boyfriends mom cause i love her and she loves me and shes the best.

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?: 10 minutes at the most

44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days?: loool no? its winter.

45: Where am I right now?: at work :(

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?: probably my self or the cab driver. cabbies always pull thru.

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?: as loud as it can fuckin go

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?: no!!!! im a full time adult

49: Am I excited for anything?: summer time

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?: yesssssssssss, most of my greatest friends are boys

51: How often do I wear a fake smile?: mm 70% maybe.

52: When was the last time I hugged someone?: yesterday when i was leaving my friends house. noice warm hugs

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?: i would be confuuused.

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?: no! i learned the hard way not to trust a distrusting person.

55: What is something I disliked about today?: that i had to get up at 8 and go to the bank to get money for my rent. and than pay my grumpy landlord.

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?: Robert Plant

57: What do I think about most?: im mostly in dream land 99% of the time

58: What’s my strangest talent? i can spread all my toes apart and it looks like i have munky feet. its pretty bad ass.

59: Do I have any strange phobias? i dont think being closter phobic is strange. but FUCK that.

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? both! i like to capture beauty and be apart of beauty.

61: What was the last lie I told? i lied on my time sheet at work because i need the hours but i fucking hate working.

62: Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online? talking on the phone is nice, it keeps the mystery going.

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?: of course.

64: Do I believe in magic?: yes! i believe we all have abilities we cannot access, only some people get to that point.

65: Do I believe in luck?: sure

66: What's the weather like right now?: sunny, windy.

67: What was the last book I've read? celestine prophecy

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?: i would be dead if i did

69: Do I have any nicknames?: kerby/kerbz

70: What was the worst injury I've ever had?: uhm my brother snapped my pinky in half.

71: Do I spend money or save it?: both haha

72: Can I touch my nose with a tounge? no :c

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me? yes! my key chain.

74: Favourite animal? red panda

75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? roasting my brain on social media

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is? love

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? heaven must be missing an angel

78: How can you win my heart?: be sweet and semi obsessed

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? tried my best

80: What is my favorite word? rutabaga

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr: i dont go on tumblr enough

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? love everyone. every leaf. every ray of light. forgive.

83: Do I have any relatives in jail?: nahhh

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?: read peoples minds

85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? how do i feel honestly.

86: What is my current desktop picture? a red panda.. hahah

87: Had sex? i would be pretty sad if i was 20 and still a virgin.

88: Bought condoms? yessssssss

89: Gotten pregnant? noooo!

90: Failed a class? ha ha ha

91: Kissed a boy? yup

92: Kissed a girl? yupppppp

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? heh yes

94: Had job? unfortunately

95: Left the house without my wallet? all the time

96: Bullied someone on the internet? ya i was a dick in highschool

97: Had sex in public? how public? i had sex in a park at night. and in the forest. and in a car parked on the side of the road. idk how public that is. but.

98: Played on a sports team? soccer!

99: Smoked weed? everyday.

100: Did drugs? yea!

101: Smoked cigarettes? ive been ciggy free for awhile

102: Drank alcohol? if i could calculate how much vodka i have drank in my life i could probably fill an olympic pool. js.

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? vegetarian!

104: Been overweight? not really.

105: Been underweight? no

106: Been to a wedding? yess

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? probably.

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? when i was younger yeah

109: Been outside my home country? multiple times!

110: Gotten my heart broken? i think my heart is in a constant broken stage now.

111: Been to a professional sports game? yeah!

112: Broken a bone? if my pinky counts than yes

113: Cut myself? for a year i used to cut my self in highschool.

114: Been to prom? i live in canada

115: Been in airplane? yeaaaaaaa

116: Fly by helicopter? noooooo

117: What concerts have I been to? too many

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? mm no

119: Learned another language? no! :’(

120: Wore make up? sometimes

121: Lost my virginity before I was 18? i was 15

122: Had oral sex? duhh

123: Dyed my hair? not for 2 years

124: Voted in a presidential election? i voted in the prime minister election in canada last year. my dude won. of couuuurse because hes sick.

125: Rode in an ambulance? yea when my brother shattered his head

126: Had a surgery? yup!

127: Met someone famous? no

128: Stalked someone on a social network? haaaahaha i have issues

129: Peed outside? ya gotta do what ya gotta do

130: Been fishing? yes! i caught the biggest fishy at my bf’s cottage this summer. he was pretty impressed.

131: Helped with charity? i dated a christian guy in highschool and his parents would take us to the mustard seed to hangout with the less fortunate and feed them :) it was really nice.

132: Been rejected by a crush? YEAA! its the worst.

133: Broken a mirror? no thats bad luck

134: What do I want for birthday? a big hug and an awesome concert in seattle to happen.

135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names? 2 kids. they will be boys. Atlas/Onyx. maybe Eli?

136: Was I named after anyone? my dads highschool crush.

137: Do I like my handwriting? yeah! ive got pretty nice writing id say

138: What was my favourite toy as a child? barbies/teddy bears

139: Favourite Tv Show? one tree hill

140: Where do I want to live when older? somewhere peaceful, surrounded by nature

141: Play any musical instrument? ukelele!

142: One of my scars, how did I get it? my friend put a cigarette out on the back of my leg when i was passed out drunk. that was fun.

143: Favourite pizza toping? pineapple!!

144: Am I afraid of the dark? if i watch a scary movie or have a scary dream.

145: Am I afraid of heights? not really but sometimes when i look down it gives me butterflies

146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? HAHA ya. my mom is smarter than i thought i guess.

147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? all the time.

148: What I'm really bad at: expressing myself.

149: What my greatest achievments are: moving out all on my own and paying all my bills on my own without any help.

150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me: my first love told me to go kill myself and that i was spineless.

151: What I'd do if I won in a lottery: pay my parents debt off and move them somewhere they always wanted to go.

152: What do I like about myself: im funny i guess

153: My closest Tumblr friend: jen

154: Something I fantasise about: having my life be a dream pop music video

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