#but it's nice to just have a character that you love a lot

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.

Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?

— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!

— wc: 3136

⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)

masterlist | AO3

As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.

“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.” 

You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown. 

You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.

“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.

“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”

“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.

“Absolutely not -”

“What? No -”

Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.

“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”

“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.

You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.

His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better. 

It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.

Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.

“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her. 

“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!” 

Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug. 

“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.

Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.

“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.

Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.

“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”

Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.

He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted. 

Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum? 

Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.

Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.

But you were going to.

You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.

The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.

“Spencer?” You asked in surprise. 

Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.

The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”

“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.

“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”

Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.

“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.” 

“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.

“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”

You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”

“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”

And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.

Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.

“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”

“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”

His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”

When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.

“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear. 

His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.

“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?” 

The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.

After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.

“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.

He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”

He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.

You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.

“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.

His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.

“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits. 

“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.

“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.” 

Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.

“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.

“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.

“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks. 

“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”

“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”

He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.

But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.

“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.” 

You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.

He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.

You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.

You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.” 

Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.

Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.

“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.” 

The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.

“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.

“Mphm! More - I need more.”

“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.

“I - I’m gonna cum.” 

It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.

Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.

It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.

“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”

“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.

There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”

“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment. 

“How about ice cream?”

“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

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[churipu]

hii i hope ur midterms r going well !! ive binge read so many of ur work n js wanted to say theyre so amazing (´꒳`) i wanted a request for toji + any other character of ur choice x reader who stays up late n has difficulty sleeping (fluff),, thank u !! 🤍

𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗔𝗠 !

────── 𝕴 . featuring. toji fushiguro x reader

────── 𝕴 . warnings. cursing, and mentions of toji being soft, i love him.

note. hi nonnie! thank you so much, you're too nice to me, and yes, my midterms went well! it's been so long since i've done the requests in my inbox, which is the sole reason to why i have closed my ask box so i could finish them all! although, the next time i open them, i won't accept requests for a bit. sorry for those who have visited my inbox and have waited for a long time for your piece to be done. // anyways, new theme = new layout!

"why aren't you in bed?"

toji's voice came out hoarse — he cleared his throat and approached you, sitting himself on the couch despite his heart caressing his ears, pleading for him to go back inside the bedroom and just lay back down on the bed.

the cotton surface of the couch dipped just as he practically threw himself down on it, holding back a loud yawn. you raised a brow, shoving the spoonful of cereal you mixed with milk five minutes ago, just before toji emerged from your shared room.

small yellow chips of cereal that had grown soggy, seeping in the white tasteless liquid dispersed into a mush inside your mouth. they weren't even solid as they're supposed to be, "can't sleep, you?"

"you weren't there."

old habits die hard. that's how the saying goes, and you undeniably agreed to that. the night is an old friend to you, never did your eyelids felt heavy when you were supposed to be in bed, asleep. it's not healthy, you're killing yourself doing this.

"you're such a baby," you mutter out, staring into space, feeling your eyes slowly dissociate — jaw moving in a slow motion, biting into wet and mush before you swallow them.

"y/n, it's three am, y' can't keep doing this stuff," toji scratches his nape, leaning his head back onto the couch rest.

despite your eyes staring into nothing, you could hear his words pretty well. in fact, toji had repeated the same words countless of times that you found yourself engraving it into your mind, "i know, i can't sleep. i know it's not healthy, if i could stop it, i would."

"you're scooping nothing, y/n."

this time, his statement pulled you back into reality. looking down to see that you were indeed scooping no soggy cereal chip, nor a drop of milk onto your spoon. chuckling out lightly, you stood up and sauntered over to the kitchen, dumping what was left of your cereal pieces into the sink.

"you should go to bed," you tell him, wiping your wet hands onto your shirt — crumpling up the fabric to soak them in the access waterdrops lacing your fingers, "'ts late."

toji scoffs lightly, "shouldn't i be saying that shit to you?"

no mistakes there. you emitted out a soft sigh, "i'm fine, i'll be back in bed in a few . . ." toji raises a brow skeptically. he never forgot the last time you said that, he woke up alone on the bed — and you were wide awake on the couch, watching the morning news.

"hell no. it's two of us or nobody goes back to bed, 'm not kidding." he mutters out, not realizing how harsh his voice came out as.

brows furrowed deeply, he looks at you. your disheveled (h/c) hair going all point in a compass points, the visible dark shade of exhaustion coloring under your eyes — and the light creases on the corner of your beautiful, tired eyes.

"can you not?" you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose; honestly, you can't blame him at all, he's just a worried boyfriend and you were being stubborn.

"can i not what? worry about my own—" he stops mid sentence and shakes his head. toji was never a man of words, he doesn't express his affection to you through words. he's had moments, not a lot, but he's had them.

toji's a man of actions. he thinks that words mean nothing, which you knew, "'m tired, but i can't sleep, okay? i'll just hang out here a few more minutes and i'll come back to bed. you don't have to stay awake just because 'm awake."

"just shut up."

you stare at him, surprised. parting your lips, you try to speak again but toji beats you to it.

"can't i worry about you or something? you're my partner," he said, his then exhausted eyes now fully refreshed. a tinge of frustration coloring his greenish iris.

your eyes darted around for a bit, searching for words to spout out as a reply, "you don't have to worry about me, 'm fine. i promise. so, can you please just go to bed and stop worrying about me?"

"fuck that," he stands up, with heavy footsteps he darted towards you.

his figure grew in your view as he closes the distance between you and him. with a quick motion, he threw you over his shoulder, letting you dangle over his shoulder. at this point, you were too exhausted to even move a limb so you just laid there, not having the cell to even open your mouth.

toji walks over to the bedroom and he sat you down gently on the bed. on most occasions, he would throw you onto the bed playfully — but this was serious. he's pissed, and you're pissed.

"sleep."

you crane your neck upwards, face scrunching into one of annoyance, "i just told you that i can't—"

"try."

shaking your head, you said, "i can't, i've tried."

his finger brushed over your hair, smoothing them back down. he didn't reply to you. frankly, he finds it hard to be in the current position — as a kid, he was taught to never show his weakness. he grew up in a household full of so much hate that he forgot what love is.

here you were. vulnerable, in a weak state that toji has seen a lot before throughout your relationship. if this was anyone else, toji swore he'd tell them to suck it up because life isn't always what they think it ought to be.

but this isn't anyone else, it's you. y/n. the only person toji has showed his own vulnerable sides to — it's like a punch to his gut when he saw a bit of his younger self in you. he had nobody, and nobody had him.

it's different this time, it's not about him anymore. it's about you. you had him, and he had you.

toji inhaled sharply, his large hands slipping underneath your pits as he gently pushes you up. your feet dangled as he then pulled you into him, his right hand traveled onto the hollow of your back — and his left hand prepped your legs around his torso.

you felt like a child, "what're you doing?"

"shut up," he mutters out into the crook of your neck, "just try to get some sleep."

he pressed his lips onto your skin tenderly, making you shudder at the sudden contact — but you liked it. toji didn't stop, with an arm around your waist, and another under your thighs, he held you close to him.

warm and shallow breaths blew onto your skin like warm lights, it didn't tickle, you bury your head into the crook of his neck. copying his actions, "'m sorry."

toji grunted, "for?"

"just . . . everything," you murmur out.

his grip around your waist tightened, "'ts not somethin' to be sorry of, you can't control it. so just try and get some sleep," he muttered out, rocking side to side gently.

a faint smile appeared on your lips as you pulled your head back slightly, "you're too nice to me."

"don't get used to it," toji rolled his eyes.

"i love you too," you planted a kiss onto his lips briefly before returning your head into the crook of his neck, letting him lull you to sleep for the night.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #toji fluff #toji oneshot #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro fluff

[hazelfoureyes]

⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

Alastor demands you tell him what you’d consider a nice date, which makes a surprisingly lovely time in the library. Dancing leads to… not dancing and a minor rearranging of your guts. And finally, you try to shame Alastor out of Mania and Alastor finds himself having to explain, well, Alastor.

「warnings/promises: Smut, guts➡️rearranged, kinda dub➡️con cuz Alastor still doesn’t listen, but funnily enough neither do you?, lots of interrupting each other, Luci’s hat, you’re down so fucking bad lmao」

🎶 minors DNI 🎵

Angel was live blogging everything you said when you recounted what happened to you after returning to the hotel.

“Wait there’s a character limit, I gotta make a new post.” He was wiping actual tears from his eyes, “Fuck this is funny.”

“Hmmph,” Alastor offered a small noise from his end of the sofa. Neither of you had mentioned or even referenced the sex. There was a strange feeling between you that it didn’t happen so it didn’t need a discussion. But also that it had absolutely happened, as Alastor’s hands found renewed vigor in their search for you when in public and private and your body seemed to respond in kind. You’d still occasionally move his hand off of you, but there was a pulse of electricity every time. When his hand would come to rest on your upper thigh while seated beside each other in the common areas, you let it linger. What harm was it? Heaven wasn’t fucking watching.

Everything aside, the sex had done nothing to dispel his interest. Perhaps you’d only made it worse, for both of you. 

By midweek you found the sling useless, happily tossing it aside and beginning gentle stretches. That was more progress than you'd made in your main task. 

Every morning you woke up beside Alastor, every day you had him in your orbit, every night you fell asleep feet from him.

Had Mania not taken him he would be a prime candidate for showing the virtue of true love. He was already fucking there, a captive audience. But that wasn’t how it worked. Cupid-induced manic love could never be true. Nothing you created was true, really. But atleast with Eros or Agape you could still have added the notion of  true love to the mix. His heart would still be receptive and open to the idea. The way he was now, you could proselytize until you were blue in the face and he’d still think manic love was true love. 

An unintended consequence of living with Alastor was discovering you both had quite a bit in common, as much as that information irked you. He enjoyed horror movies such as ‘Dracula’, you enjoyed horror movies as well, just newer ones. Ones in color. He could cook quite well, something you enjoyed to do. And his taste in music was actually lovely. You had assumed he listened to screams on a 7 hour loop.

Actually, upon closer inspection, Alastor was nothing like you had initially assumed. While he had shown you he was capable of terrifying feats of strength and power, he was also remarkably gentle. Every time you descended the stairs his hand was barely felt as it hovered at your elbow ready to save you. 

Early in the week you fell asleep watching the group play a board game, somehow redemption related, and awoke with his coat laid over your body. When you thanked him, he just smiled and continued enjoying watching Niffty hide the play money.

You were finding yourself more and more wishing the arrow had never fallen. If you’d just met him as you fell, perhaps you would be staring into that portal home. There were definitely worse options around. Even his imposing height had begun to…not bother you, perhaps was the best way to say it.

Or his large hands. There was a safety in the way they rested on your back. Speaking of…

Your throat ran dry when he leaned into you, one of those hands sliding across your thigh,  and asked against your ear, “Ready to go?”

He had to have seen you licking your lips to unstick your teeth. With a nod, he stood and offered a hand to you. 

You both were already out of the elevator and walking to your room when he slowed, coming to stop just in front of you. 

His room, fucking hell. 

“You know, I was thinking,” he wasn’t looking as he spoke to you, which was odd given how often he stared at you. “If you’re going to be here with me from now on-“

You opened your mouth to argue but he put his hand up, “I’d like to know the things you enjoy doing with your romantic interests.” His smile was almost pure, you could tell he was genuinely asking.

“Well I don’t have any so, why would you care?”

“No things you enjoy?”

“No romantic interests.”

His head lolled to the side, “Sometimes I think you say things just to bother me.”

You did.

“I do.”

You thought if you kept being rude maybe you could keep him at an arm’s length. Not get too attached. You’d been kind to people you didn’t like before and eventually you started to like them. This was that. But opposite.

He stared down at you, taking a step closer. You took one back. That smile shifted from pure to sinister, his eyes half lidded. You could almost see the thoughts playing on his face.

“Alastor-,” your back hit the elevator doors. The pounding of your heart when he brought his face to yours drowned out the sounds of the button being pressed. When the doors opened you fell backward with a yelp, but a strong arm caught you by the waist.

“You have twelve floors.” His hand hit the first floor button, “You can share with me your idea of a quality date. Or I can show everyone,” that clawed hand came to your neck, sliding down the evidence of your pounding heart, “how pretty you scream.”

As soon as the doors closed you were pressed against the elevator wall, right leg pulled up and around his waist. “You wouldn’t dare.” You had meant it to sound strong but instead it was half whispered with a shaky voice.

He popped a button off your blouse, “Maybe!” Warm mouth now on your neck, his tongue ran over your pulse, “I wonder if everyone is still in the lobby.”

Over his shoulder you watched the numbers counting down. The hand that cut off the button slid down to your bottoms, slipping under the waistband.

On the 3rd floor the elevator stopped. When the doors opened a demon you didn’t recognize was standing there, eyes wide and mouth open. He didn’t make a move to enter, Alastor looking over his shoulder and sharing what you could only assume was a death glare. The flickering lights were a giveaway to his anger.

His fingers dipped down and cupped your sex, hot palm pressing into your folds. 

The doors closed again and you watched the second floor light up. A finger bent and pressed into you.

A nibble at your ear, “You know I’ll win, regardless.”

He was right. Which was the smaller defeat? Humiliation or just telling the bastard your idea of a nice time?

“Books. Drinks.” You squeaked, the first floor lamp now aglow. His hand pulled away just as the doors opened. 

Expecting him to gloat you were surprised he just hit the 10th floor button. The library. 

He opened the door for you. The library’s main area had two reading chairs bookending a long antique sofa. You took the chair furthest from the door, hearing the door lock.

With a snap, the entire bar with Husk included seemed to fall three inches out of thin air.

“Oh for fucks sake.” Husk looked around, already annoyed, “You coulda just fucking asked for drinks to bring with you. You know cups are portable, right?”

It was nice, actually. Husk poured, you both read. There was an unnecessary fireplace crackling behind you. Cozy. And it got cozier and warmer the more you drank. Your shields softened as the glasses emptied. 

Your book was good, but as you felt the alcohol hit you were reminded of the last time you’d gotten a little past tipsy. Sneakily, but not at all, your eyes wandered over to Alastor.

His legs were crossed, but you could remember looking down and seeing them spread open beneath you. Open. Did many people see him like you had? Had his talk about a disinterest in sex actually been a trick to intrigue you? It hadn’t worked, you genuinely didn’t care what his preferences were. If anything it made you less likely to make a pass.

Your eyes wandered down his slender neck to his wide shoulders. Less than a week ago your arms were resting there. Further down, you remembered that soft bit of fur at the base of his cock, a small trail from his belly button. 

Husk watched your face turn pink, “You good?” Your head whipped around, looking confused. “You’re getting red.”

Oh. I was just thinking about my pussy drowning in Alastor’s cum.

No, obviously not!

Alastor’s eyes left his book and found yours. They were so red; his eyes, not your cheeks. No one in heaven had such wicked an appearance. When you didn’t reply, busy staring back at Alastor, Husk groaned, “Aah fuck.”

“What are you reading?” You asked, clearly able to see the book title from where you sat. 

Alastor held it up, “Oliver Twist.”

“Never read it.”

You had read it.

Setting your book down, you tried to walk as straight as a line as you could to him. You took the book from his hands and sat down on his lap, back against his chest, before picking it up again. “What page are we on?”

“You can leave, Husker.” Alastor didn’t even look at Husk when he said it, eyes still on your face.

When the door closed and Alastor could lock it with a snap, he uncrossed his legs. “Would you like to start over dear? From the beginning.”

Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Can we?” You leaned your head onto his shoulder. When had he become so comfortable…?

“We can.” The book was set aside, his left hand pulling your chin up, “I think we skipped a few chapters before.”

You opened your mouth, “I don’t like kissing.” 

“You will.” 

The front part of your brain dissolved, you were sure of it. Your decision making abilities were entirely eradicated as his lips pressed into yours. Fuck, maybe even your basic motor skills had been fried, his tongue swiping across your mouth before you just—opened. Your hips ground down into his lap, and you felt his smile widen against your lips.

“Stop smiling. I just like warm bodies.” You reached for the book and opened it to the first page, “and you’re so fucking warm.”

He began to read, but between the rumble of his chest, his voice in your ear, and the heat of his body, you fell asleep.

No matter. Alastor just hummed. With a summoning of his shadow you both sank into your shared bed, where he continued reading with you against his chest.

You dreamt about home. About red eyes and warmth.

Was it so bad, being in hell? Sure you had a fucking deer demon as guard dog but it seemed his mania was … not so terrible. Honestly he seemed relatively normal now. He would wander off for significant lengths of time, even leaving in the mornings while you were still lazing about. A kiss to your hand was the indicator he would be popping off somewhere.

Alastor still wouldn’t let Lucifer alone with you, but otherwise everything was okay. You’d even come to enjoy certain aspects of his possessiveness. That ever present hand, for example. Even when it wasn’t on you, you could still almost feel it. It had become second nature now.

The week was actually peaceful. Your pain was entirely gone, you could move about freely. Despite that Alastor still would press up behind you and offer to help dress you. An offer you declined, but every time he asked you paused longer and longer before saying no.

Alastor was happy to find you in the library toward the end of the week, you having wandered off when he was called away. He summoned a confused but pissed off Husk again, who was midway through making someone else’s drink. He set it aside, pouring Alastor his whiskey. You decided against drinking, you knew you always made poor decisions. Like sleeping. 

Delighted by the impressive collection you found a non-fiction and settled into the same large chair.

“Reading is a virtue.” He said to himself yet out-loud, taking a seat and setting the radio on from across the room. Etta James. ‘Somethings got a hold of me.’

“A little past your time, isn’t it?” You smiled, you liked songs about love. Not because of who you were, you just liked the idea of someone so enamored they have to make art.

He laughed, “Nosey little bird, have you been asking about me?”

Well shit. You had forgotten to play dumb. The past couple weeks you had casually inquired about Alastor from the other staff members. A modest collection of facts to help you better understand the man. A quick recovery. “Know your enemy!” 

He cackled, “Sun Tzu! What does Cupid need ‘The Art of War’ for?!”

What, did he expect you to only read romance novels and Roman mythos? “You can’t make a shadow without light. In fact,” you put the book down, “The Greeks thought Cupid was a child of War and Beauty.”

Okay well, Greek mythos is a little different than their Roman counterpart’s. So. There.

Alastor watched you leaning over the arm of the chair, no sign of pain as you did so. Your injury must have mended well. “Do you have parents?” He asked, genuinely wondering how your kind were created. 

“No, we're just… made. And then sent off on assignments.”

“You must be terribly busy, just one person for all of earth.” If Alastor could pull some limbs and find out more from anyone but you, he would, but unfortunately no one but Vaggie would know anything about you and he had a feeling her time in heaven was never spent thinking about love. 

“Oh, actually not so much! When I’m with humans I can travel around without worrying about the concept of time at all. But it takes a toll.” Or so you were told. There were never two Cupids at one time so you couldn’t really ask your predecessors. Alastor’s brows rose, unsure how exactly a Cupid could be taxed if they didn’t feel pain and couldn’t be hurt. “Every trip to Earth weakens us. Until our bodies just, I guess, give out.” A smile crept across your face, unsure what expression you were supposed to be making.

“Is it just Earth? Or,” he lowered the radio volume with just a glance, “Every time you leave heaven?” It would take a great effort to not notice the weight suddenly blanketing the library. Silence was heavy with what he was really asking you. Would remaining here kill you?

It was a great question. Wow he’s really good at this. It almost seemed like he gave a shit. No one had ever asked you about your creation, about your work. It was nice. Even from him. Maybe especially from him.

You had never been to hell, so you couldn’t be sure, but, “I think it’s a human-world time-thing. But I guess we’ll find out!” Another misplaced smile before you awkwardly leaned back and picked up the book.

While you hadn’t noticed the slip up you had made, Alastor had. “I suppose we will.” 

You would find out, because you wouldn’t be returning to heaven. He was glad you, even if unconsciously, understood that. And perhaps you could live forever if you never returned to earth.

When the song ended, you offered one of your own. 

Alastor was pleasantly surprised to hear you request Nat King Cole’s ‘It’s almost like being in love’.

Standing, he offered you his hand for a dance. “Ugh I hate this cheesy shit.” You said it but stood anyway, putting your hands in his.

Alastor laughed, swaying side to side, “Not a fan of romance? Has Cupid never been in love?”

Those were two seperate things. How could you explain? “Drug dealers number one rule. Never get high off your own supply. That would be—.”

Lonely. Pathetic.

“A bad idea.” His cheek rested on your head. It was a shockingly tender act. “Can you understand? Why would I want something I made. What’s special about that?” 

“And what of true love? It isn’t made by you, yes?” Asked into your hair.

“Yeah but when will I ever find the time to make a connection worthwhile. Winners and Angels are gluttons for choice, I am obviously built for a fun time not a long time.” Which you were…fine with. Yeah. I mean, what choice did you have? “And I don’t want to force it…so…” you trailed off. The rest didn’t matter.

He nodded, suppressing another laugh.  “I see. Well, allow me to give you something you inspired, how about that? Not made. Would you say no, my muse?”

Inspired? Like a song? “Ha, what have I inspired in you, heathen.”

Alastor stopped dancing, his hand pulling your face up for a kiss which took you by surprise.

“Seriousl-,” Husk mercifully disappeared in a flash of neon green.

You couldn’t remember exactly how it happened, much like many of the moments you surrendered to Alastor. It was so fast and he was so strong, his hands large and confident in how they moved you. Before you knew it you were bent over the sofa’s arm getting fucked so hard your leg was shaking and your stomach nauseous.

This was much better than songs or art or whatever you inspired in others. You were gasping with every breath, the action somehow heightening the sensations. The little huffs and groans your body was pulling from him had your heart racing.

His cock was smashing your womb into your guts, the entire organ suddenly feeling like a new pleasure spot. Every jolt to your cervix made a novel kind of bliss pool in your stomach. 

You cried, head empty as he completely left your heat before bottoming out again, “Stop, Alastor. Stop.” A strained moan, hands gripping the wooden sofa arm, “stop, stop, fuuuuck.”

He was pulling out too far and too fast, hitting back too hard and too deep. Your cunt felt swollen around him, your entrance so soft and wet he didn’t need precision to sink back in.

“Does it hurt?” He said quickly on the down beat of his thrust.

“Nngh no.”

“Theeen, no.”

Alastor pulled you up by your chin, back bending as he titled your mouth to his. Despite your mouth hanging open with your tongue out as salacious as you’d ever been,  you told him, “I really don’t kiss during sex.” 

The look in his downcast eyes sent a shiver along your spine, a power there you couldn’t push against, “You do now, my dear.”

When in hell, you supposed. You didn’t even try to argue, accepting his tongue wrapping around yours and exploring your mouth while his dick churned up your insides. Full from top to bottom. Full of Alastor. Safe. Wanted. Needed. 

You pulled away when there was an overwhelming bone-deep sensation spilling through your hips and down your thighs. The muscles felt weak there, and you had an urge to runaway from it but Alastor held you still. 

A scream of ecstasy as both legs shook violently, you finally got your hands free orgasm but to your shock it didn’t stop. As it appeared to wane, it just started mounting again. By the third roll, Alastor came with a push so deep your chest fell over the arm of the sofa. If not for the hands bruising your hips, you would have fallen off entirely.

The ache in your stomach began immediately, you’d have thought someone had been punching you in the gut. Well, more literally than they had been. When you groaned and complained to Alastor about what he had done, he pulled you up by your waist.

You were drawn into him, back to his chest again with your body between those long legs. His hands came to your stomach. Alastor massaged deep circles into your abdomen. 

“Does that help?” His high voice lowered, husky and kind into your ear. You nodded, the pressure relieved the discomfort. 

You wondered if he was used to taller demons than your shorter heavenly form, or perhaps he wasn’t used to anyone at all. Maybe sinners had more room than you did. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Believe it or not,” probably not, “I’m never trying to hurt you.”

Was it terrible you actually did believe him? Yes he was a serial killer, and considered one of the most cruel overlords in recent memory. But he was always gentle when his hands were on you. Flits of memories of him washing your feet came back to you. 

“I know perhaps,” his hands kept moving, your back already stuck to his with well earned sweat, “I have at times been easily incensed.”

You nodded quickly.

“But, It’s just,” you heard him swallow hard, “ah I absolutely hate this,” He whispered it to himself. “I’m just scared you’ll leave before I’ve managed to convince you how much happier I can make you here.”

It’s not that it was funny, necessarily, but the very idea hell could be happier than Heaven was laughable. It was Heaven. It was made to be happy.  It existed purely to please. 

The smile faded from your face. Well, for the winners. It was made to please the winners. It wasn’t made for you, but you still got much enjoyment. You had…sex. Great sex. Not held aloft in a radio tower great, but…You always came. Everyone did. Wasn’t that the point of it?

Wasn’t that the point?

What was the point?

 A warm and lonely bed is better than an empty one alone. So.

Well, your bed was always warm and never lonely in hell now that you’d been “moved”.

You had… Hobbies. You liked swimming. 

Okay well the hotel had a pool. And yes, if you weren’t running off to earth on command you’d have more energy for hobbies.

What were you thinking about this for again?

You gathered the scraps of your relevant thoughts, “Happiness isn’t being confined to a hotel, Alastor.”

“As soon as you show me you won’t leave me, I won’t care where you go. As long as you’re safe.” One of his hands left your stomach to stroke your cheek, “I’m just waiting for you to realize what I already know.”

If Alastor were to ease his grip on you, could you enjoy yourself? Well, more than you did. But it was more than that, you had to admit you hated the idea of losing, of just running away. “I don’t like giving up.” 

His laugh was quiet but it rocked you as his chest moved. “Darling they threw you to hell and told you you’re not allowed to leave unless you do homework. Giving up what? Being a servant to heaven?”

If he had said it a couple weeks prior, you would have left the room indignant. But now, settled against his hot skin and being so softly touched, it sounded like tough love.

“I don’t belong here though.” You were talking to yourself. So many excuses.

His arms wrapped around your chest to hug you into him, “You belong wherever I am.” His cheek pressed against yours, “I won’t let you go.”

A threat. A threat you leaned into and warmed yourself with. A threat a quiet part of you hoped he kept his word on.

You were getting too comfortable. Every morning you woke up to Alastor curled into your body, holding you tightly to him and you found yourself smiling before your consciousness clicked on. At some point in the last week he grabbed your chin and kissed you good night and suddenly every time he left your side you allowed a kiss to your cheek before he parted. What was worse was how you’d talk in bed about your recent reads and what happened the few hours you weren’t with each other. 

The thing that made you realize you were getting honestly too deep was when you went to go to bed early and actually took the elevator past your floor, walked all the way to his station and told him good night. You’d made it to his chair and were leaning down for your kiss when your face fell flat. 

He asked what was wrong but you shook your head. A poorly faked smile offered to him.

You sat in your bed. His bed. Your bed?

You sat in bed and wondered how to press forward. Two months, nearly, you’d been in hell. At this rate surely heaven had made a replacement. If you could make it back quickly you could still keep your place.

A decision was made, you’d never confronted Alastor head on. You had misunderstood his illusion of you. But maybe if you just forced it into his thick skull he’d been controlled and puppeted by an arrow, not his free will, he would abandon it to save his pride. 

Knees to your chest, why were you crying again? Did you want to go home?

No, you wanted to curl into his stupid fucking lap and listen to him hum his stupid old, forgotten songs. You wanted to dance while Husk groaned and rolled his eyes. You wanted to feel loved.

But you weren’t made to want things. And Alastor didn’t love you.

Okay, one more night to enjoy yourself before you pissed him off so much he kicked you out of his bed. Or took such a turn into obsession he never let you leave the room again, allowing you to shirk responsibility for not returning to heaven.

When you turned the handle there was resistance, the door pushing in. 

“Alastor? Done already?” He’d seemed busy earlier.

He closed the door and locked it. Oh. A blush. The sound of a locking door had come to mean certain things to you.

“You seemed bothered.” His thumb wiped where your tears had already dried, “What ever is the problem? Did someone upset you? Some neck I should wring?” You shook your head no. His other hand came to join in  holding your face, those goddamned red eyes melting you to nothing, “Some limbs I should snap?” He took a step toward you and you took two back, hands holding his wrists. Another no. “Or some cheeks I should kiss?”

Stop crying.

An eager nod. “Don’t cry, my love.” Soft lips catching your tears, thin fingers wiping them away. He kept walking forward and you kept walking back until your legs hit the bed. 

One more night, just in case. In case he forfeits the mania.

You kissed his neck, startling him. “Rare form. Did you need some more intimate attention, darling?” You tried to avoid initiating, never knowing what he wanted or when, never wanting to enjoy his touch too much. “I could indulge you.”

What you wanted was to be reduced so thoroughly to just a physical creature by way of pleasure that your mind disconnected from your brain. Fucked dumb, as people said. Alastor wouldn’t know what that meant but you were confident he’d enjoy sussing out the finer details of the meaning if it meant your full surrender.

You bit down on his neck, getting you pushed onto the bed in return. “I need overindulgence. I don’t wanna feel anything tonight but you.” You should practice your manners, for heaven's sake. “Please.”

There it was again. That look that turned your bones to jelly and your brain to cotton; that downcast half lidded stare as he towered over you that promised to devour you whole. His hand pulled at his bow tie and loosened his collar, knees on the bed as his legs spread you open at the thighs.

 “Good girl.”

No punishment or inspiration, just that mental numbness that turned off all your worries. We’re you making stupid faces? We’re your sounds embarrassing? Didn’t matter. You didn’t care. You clung to his body like you’d fall apart without his skin on yours. Because you would, in some fashion. 

Every gap between your bodies felt like room for doubt. So you filled them with flesh and sighs and moans. 

With his height difference you were smothered by him when in traditional heaven-approved missionary, but you liked lying on top. Your head only made it to his chest when your hips were positioned above his cock. You could go slack and let him move you on and off himself. You had been lying when you said you preferred to not move or make noise, but you’d learned he got harder and more feral when you let him manipulate your body any way he pleased. 

He smelled like sweat and leather, probably from the chairs in the lobby. No one sweats in heaven, this seemed like a mistake now. You’d have to be sure to not wash your clothes after you left hell, or else you’d forget his scent.

After finishing, he was surprised to find you still clinging to his torso, arms under his armpits and hooked onto his shoulders. He offered to pull out and let you lie down but you just held on tighter in response. He glanced around the room, soft light and softer music on the radio. Your quiver and bow rested against the armoire, practically dusty. He asked if you were alright, a hand coming to your back with large claws gently scratching.

“Yeah I will be.” you lifted your head, waiting.

Both of his eyebrows rose, unsure what you were waiting on.

Complete surrender. “Good night kiss.” You had to stretch to meet his lips before settling back into his chest, “okay bore me to sleep with your day, sinner.” He gladly did, you falling asleep yet again to the sound of his slow heartbeat and the rumble of his words.

You awoke nauseous, already knowing your day was going to fucking suck and it’d be your own fault. The idea of approaching Alastor and initiating the conversation felt impossible, your feet became stone when you thought of it.

The coward’s option. Wait for time alone and then pace the library until he came to find you.

After an hour or so he did, smile brightening as he entered. “Should I summon the bar?”

You shook your head no, struggling to speak. He sat in his chair, book still on the small side table.

Heart pounding, you considered doing this another day or week or maybe year but knew you’d already lost so much time. “Alastor, I need to talk to you about my task.”

He snapped the book shut, eyes not leaving his hands. “Oh?”

“I need to leave the hotel or at least need serious time alone with someone. I need to change someone’s heart on true love. I can’t go home—,” you were cut off, Alastor standing quickly.

“Home?”

“Alastor.” You stood your ground even as his spine stretched and antlers widened.

“Your home is wherever I am.” A pained smile now, something akin to hurt in his eyes that did damage to you too. “Ah. So last night— and people say I’m cruel.”

“I’m not supposed to be here!”

A snap, his anger and desperation eclipsing his pain, “Why don’t you ever listen-,”

Your turn to cut him off, “Because you’re under a spell! You act so fucking tough like you’re in control all the time. But you’re not! It’s just the effect of the arrow.”

He laughed, but you kept going, “Don’t act like you’re sooo strong you can fight the effects of my shot. You don’t fucking love me. Not really, not naturally. It was an accident. You’re just— it’s been made by me. I don’t want it. I want something real and true.”

“My feelings are true, just let me speak. I can make you understand if you’d just listen to me.” Pupils like pins, teeth somehow sharper.

“Alastor you can’t have true love. Nothing triggered by my arrows can ever be true.”

Another ring of laughter, “Tell me then how your true love is different than mine, Oh Wise Cupid.”

You huffed, “Don’t talk down to me, radio demon. True love means caring deeply for someone else that occupies your heart and mind-,” he opened his mouth, looking around the room for where you found the audacity but you snapped twice to get his attention back, “not just that! You put them first without fear because if they truly love you they would never take advantage of that. It’s trusting them with the most fragile parts of yourself. It's a best friend. Someone who makes you feel like a better version of you, makes you want to always be improving yourself.”

Alastor was still smug, staring at you from his unnervingly demonic height, “Lovely! Last question, expert, is true love ever one sided?”

You thought for a beat, “It can be.”

He hummed, body swiftly resuming his smaller but, again, still too tall scale, antlers remaining fierce as his sinister smile dropped to just a small upward turn of his lips. “I see. You’ve truly enlightened me. I believe you.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on you.

You rolled your eyes and licked your lips to go off when a portal opened beside you.

Heaven was just beyond the shining circle.

You looked from Alastor to the circular doorway, taking small steps towards it. Your hand pressed through, confusion wiping your own smugness off your face.

Alastor began a mocking slow clap. “I’ve been convinced. Happy now? Task complete.”

“But- the love Mania causes…It clouds the mind, you can’t even process the idea of true love properly.” You searched the floor for some clarity.

His hands stopped, eyebrows meeting his bangs as a laugh that started typically but quickly morphed into maniacal filled the room. You just kept pushing your hand in and out of the portal. Alastor finally quieted, antlers fully drawn back into little prongs. He stared at you. A shiver as his smile reached his ears. That look again. You took a deep breath, ready to be eaten.

“Your little arrow didn’t pierce me, you glorious fool. It literally fell into my pocket. I was never under the effects of your magic. I said that many times.” He straightened out his suit jacket,  “Very plainly, might I add. You just never listened to me. So sure you knew better than I did.”

You sputtered, too many thoughts trying to express themselves, “Why did you act like that then?!”

“Because I wanted you. Something something first sight, as I recall the adage goes.” He crossed his arms and looked at his claws, “Perhaps my love happens to be manic by default. I am a murderous overlord, darling.”

All the energy left your body, shoulders relaxing. “Oh.” 

“So, here I am,” he opened his arms, “trusting you to not hurt me any further today. Does that fall into your narrow view of true love?”

A good question. You shifted your weight onto your other foot, looking back at heaven. You could see the shining gates.

He sighed and brought his arms down, “I can’t promise how long I’ll let you stand there and look at anything other than me.”

A warning.

A deep breath, another shift onto your other foot again as you shook the anxiety out of your hands before finally making eye contact with him, “Well, eldritch horror, prove it.”

You heard the door lock from across the room. 

You decided heaven could wait. It took about two days before they seemed to notice you hadn’t entered the portal, which closed on its own some time between Alastor pushing you onto the floor and you begging him for more. Luckily St. Peter wasn’t privy to your escapades.

It was a fact Sera was aware you had completed your task, because a knock came to the library door on that second day after you did so. Entering without waiting for a reply, which was brave, Lucifer and his hat popped into the room.

“Heeeey giiiirl. I got a message from heaven asking what’s the hold up, worried you were incapacitated.”

From your seat in Alastor’s lap you lowered your book, “How nice of them to suddenly care about my well-being.” You brought the book back up, “Little late.”

He nodded, “Uh huh, uh huh. Yeah I can understand that. Sooo,” his fingers tapped the door, “What should I reply with?”

Alastor turned the page and hummed a reply, “Finders Keepers.”

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re

@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

@sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic

#alastor smut #alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader smut

[fire-lizard-ro]

Aventurine angst/comfort

CW: spoilers for 2.1, Aventurine’s real name, talk of death/genocide, deep seated trauma, trying to heal from trauma, Aventurine's past, talk of slavery (his time as a slave), self loathing, esteem issues, talk of ego and sense of self, identity crisis???, a bit of a character study I think, meandering around because I cannot structure my thoughts whoopsie, there was a single Projecting Moment oops my b

Long post, so buckle up. I might add more later ehe-

No mentioned gender for reader.

Writing under the cut (SFW):

I had the sudden realization that Aven probably doesn’t know as much about the culture he lost as he’d like. Or at least as he’d secretly like to know. For years he was preoccupied with surviving and putting on a mask seared so deep into his ego that he might have forgotten those wishes were even there. But when the dust has settled, and his job is done? Once he’s “slipped the collar” and found his freedom? There’s… a lot less external noise to distract him from the noise inside.

It's just like he said. You must first fool yourself in order to fool everyone else. Aventurine must have tried his damnedest to forget the silly little wishes of Kakavasha. Those wishes needed to be buried in the dirt along with his name. They could never come true, so what was the use of having them in the first place? But that doesn’t stop the heart from yearning for the things it lost.

The longer he’s away from the stage, that place full of dazzling lights where it was always all eyes on him and he was always the circus act of balancing on a tight rope- always gambling on the knife’s edge between life and death… The more Kakavasha seems to remember what he used to dream of. It’s like the slow trickle of water from a crack in the tank.

Once he’s with you and he’s comfortable enough to tell you about his story… Once he’s given time to really trust you. The tank breaks and it’s like he’s a fish out of water, all of his “self” exposed under your gaze. It’s terrifying. But at the same time… healing. You’re his safe space. He’s never needed anyone to save him- that’s not what you are. You’re not some savior swooping in to save their damsel in distress. Sure, maybe it would have been nice had there been someone there for him back when he was just a scared child who had just lost everything he’d ever loved. But he fought, tooth and nail, for what he has now. Clawed his way out of the bodies that littered his past and wiped the blood from his mouth in order to finally gain his freedom. He doesn’t need someone to save him. Doesn’t need someone to fix him. But he loves you because you’re there to hold his hand while he finds his way to the end of the tunnel.

Nowadays he feels more Kakavasha and less like Aventurine. It's a struggle, because he doesn’t know if he should be Kakavasha.

Kakavasha was the name of the coward scared boy who could only run when his sister told him to run. Kakavasha was the name of a boy who lost everything and it was his fault. Kakavasha was the name of a boy made slave who was only seen as a pretty face and a tool it was all he was good for. Kakavasha was the name of a boy who could do nothing to save anyone all because of this damned blessing curse favor. Kakavasha was the name of a failure.

But he also didn't know if he was allowed to be Kakavasha.

Kakavasha was also a child who was untainted by the greed of life.

Kakavasha was an innocent child who knew how to trust people.

Kakavasha was allowed to want and to have. Kakavasha was loved.

Could he ever be loved? Having done what he'd done? Been what he'd been? Been who he'd been?

Was he Aventurine? Or was he Kakavasha?

Who was he, really?

Back then it was so noisy. He just wanted to cover his ears to shut out the screams and the voices of the people who wanted to use him and the chants of those who wanted to kill him-

But now all the noise was inside and he couldn't just cover his ears. It wouldn't help. It wouldn't stop these thoughts from running rampant in his head.

Sometimes it felt like Kavasha was a lifetime ago, detached from Aventurine when his mask he always wore took hold of him again. Both a helper and a jailer. He couldn't stop himself from falling into old habits.

But sometimes Kakavasha was all he could be. Remembering what his sister's smile looked like and how his mother's lullabies sounded and how his father's hugs felt.

Remembering how those last hugs felt and those last goodbyes weren't supposed to come so soon.

Remembering what it felt like to be chained up like some unruly pet dog and what it felt like to kill a man.

Remembering what how it felt to bury his past and his name and his family and everything else he ever loved and become a new person.

Remembering what it felt like and what it took to become Aventurine.

With time, your encouragement and support, and some self reflection (and likely some therapy)... He slowly allows himself these things.

But it gets worse before it gets better.

He learned how to hate himself long before he had the notion that he could love himself.

He learned to love others before he learned to love himself.

He gives away all the love he cannot give himself. To you

(There's the projection help- THE CALL IS COMING FROM INSIDE THE FUCKING HOUSE-)

With time he learns that he is not the sum of his actions. He can be loved. He IS loved.

You help him find what things researchers have managed to scrounge up from the remains of his people's home- from Sigonia. What they recorded even while they were still around. He sifts through painful memories to find the good ones. Remembers the once forgotten feeling of his people's language in his mouth. Teaches you all the curse words first just for fun but doesn't tell you what they actually mean. Gives you a nickname in that pretty mother tongue of his. Murmurs stories and sweet nothings in your ears while you fall asleep on his chest, the rumble of his voice and the beating of his heart lulling you to sleep.

You help him regain some of what he lost. You stayed and weathered the storm with him. You didn't leave and you made him realize with eyes wide open that you love him. That he's worthy of being loved by you. That being worthy was never even a question in the first place.

And he can never thank you enough for it.

His shoulder to lean on, his hand to hold, his ear to listen.

He is Kakavasha and he loves you.

#Roro writes #Aventurine #hsr Aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #hsr x gn reader #aventurine x gn reader

[dri-willowtree]

I see why people like the idea of Labru. I think it’s kinda fun like I love mashing silly little characters together like Barbie dolls. HOWEVER canon Kabru was a dick to Laois. He made Laois think he was interested in monsters just to gain his trust but then secretly resents him.

Kabru fucks him over multiple times on the basis of petty things that are mostly misunderstandings of Laois’ intentions and personality instead of being direct and open with him.

From a character standpoint it’s interesting because it shows us how Kabru interacts with the world though social manipulation motivated by his own trauma and goals. From the perspective of his relationship with Laios though it’s very hurtful and we don’t see him really atone for that completely in the main series after coming clean to Laios (I haven’t read all the extras though so idk).

Laios already struggles with reading people, he couldn’t pick up on how Shuro felt about him, but Shuro was not deliberately manipulating him like Kabru. Esp from the neurodivergent representation standpoint to have yet another person be nice to your face but secretly can’t stand you like damn let him [laios] get upppp.

Even if the text points to Kabru also being neurodivergent it doesn’t negate how he treated Laios and in a relationship idk how you get over that.

Just some thoughts from my worm infested brain

Edited addition: just bc in the end Kabru supports laios and his ruling does not negate his treatment of him. And a lot of it is only motivated by him being the only viable alternative to the elves to avoid what happens to Utaya. And laios works so hard to be good intentioned to everyone around him even though they don’t get him ugh. laios has resentment towards people but generally he’s just so kind. You can see it from the very beginning in how he pays attention to and motivates the party to how he gives everyone the benefit of the doubt at first.

#dungeon meshi spoilers #labru thoughts #I just really love Laois and how he cares for people AND monsters in different and special ways #not ship shaming just having thoughts

[treasureofmammon]

💛 Our future together 💛

🔎Summary: You've been studying non-stop for the last few days since finals are coming. Your boyfriend, Mammon, doesn't like it but changes his mind when you reveal why you need to study hard.

👥️Characters: Mammon x gn!reader.

⚠️Warnings: None, just fluff (But if you catch any, let me know). Established relationship with the raven boy.

📝 Note: We are back with our usual Mammon lover content, after some petty revenge for dinner for all the brothers. MC here is a nerd (and so am I).

✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️

Finals are coming, and you've been studying non-stop for the past days, only coming out of your room to eat, go to school, and give a small peck to your boyfriend once in a while. However, this arrangement is not desirable for him. Mammon constantly sneaks out of Lucifer's grip to knock on your door. As usual, you can't say no to him, so you end up letting him in.

You sit at your desk, reading, marking your textbook, making small annotations, and overall, trying to understand the subjects at hand. Meanwhile, Mammon lays in your bed, playing with a plushie he gave you on one of your first dates, tossing it up and catching it in both his hands, just to toss it up again; however, he quickly gets bored and decides that what he needs it's your attention.

—Treasure?—.

You answer with a —Hm?—, not parting away from your books.

—All ya do is study and study. It's so f*ckin' borin'!— Mammon states. Immediately, he stands up and hugs you from behind, setting his chin on the top of your head, his arms resting in your shoulders. Although you blush a little, studying is more important, so you continue with your task. Mammon kisses your head, and with a low and tender tone of voice, he suggests —Hey, why doncha stop studyin' so we can hang out?—.

You sigh, closing your eyes briefly, and start explaining: —Mammon... If I don't study hard, then I won't get good grades. If I don't get good grades, then I probably won't get a good job. And if I don't get a good job then, how am I going to provide for you?—.

Mammon jumps back immediately, —Wh-What?—. His reaction catches you by surprise, so you finally look back at him, trying to understand his behavior. He continues, —Y-Ya think about our future, together?! How far have you thought on us?—.

You are amazed by how much this surprises Mammon. A small silence spreads between you two, and you realize that Mammon is meaning his question, expecting a coherent and honest answer, so seriously, you answer: —All the time. I want to make a family with you. Since you have your own spending problems, I should be the one in charge of the financial stuff so our children can live well enough—.

—Children? With me?—, he says without even thinking, astonished.

—Yeah, two; maybe three—, you admit, —... and we can have a nice house next to a lake...—.

—A lake?—.

—Yes. Close to a hippodrome so you can watch whenever you want. But not gambling too much!—.

—So I can gamble?, really?—.

You nod, —... yeah, with moderation, though. Oh! And we could ask Barbatos to create a door close to the house, so we can visit the Devildom when we want to—.

—So I can visit my family whenever I want?—.

—Of course! And so they can visit us too—.

—What 'bout Goldie?—.

You sigh, —You can have a card, a debit one, though...—.

—What 'bout my car and my crows?—.

—We definitely would have a cool garage so you can work on your car... Oh! And your crows can come too, I'd love to have them around. But I want to have lots of pets too—.

—Pets? Like cats and dogs?—.

—Yes! I want a golden retriever called Butter. And a cat called Jiji, like the black cat on that human anime movie we watched with Levi... Oh! And once out of school, you can focus on modeling without worrying about money. So..., you know? Studying is important for me, for us—.

Another silence fills the room again. You observe Mammon's handsome face with tenderness and love. His surprised facial expression shifts slowly, and you realize tears are coming down his cheeks. You stand up and move quickly to him, —Sweety, are you okay? Are you... crying?—. You can't help but smile at Mammon's cute display of happiness. Meanwhile, Mammon lets you take him in your arms, rubbing his eyes and sweeping his cheeks clean, —I'm- I'm not cryin'!—, he says before sniffing.

✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️

[Notes: The character(s) depicted here belong to the mobile game "Obey me: shall we date" and are owned by Solmare Corporation. The text here was made by me: Treasure of Mammon, meaning these are fan-made. | GN!Reader | English is not my first language, so there might be orthographic and syntax errors. I urge you all to interact kindly with this post].

📌 Masterlist

#Treasure of Mammon writing #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey me mammon #mammon obey me #mammon avatar of greed #mammon #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x gender neutral reader #obey me mc #obey me mammon x mc #obey me gender neutral mc #gender neutral reader #obey me fluff #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me writing #mammon om #om mc #om mammon #mammon om! #om! mammon #om! mc #the great mammon #obey me mammon fluff #mammon fluff

[mostrovskaa]

Hi! I love your art, your color and shape work is amazing!!

I wanted to ask if you have any Polish media you can recommend to us non-Poles - movies, shows, stuff like that

Hi! Thank you so much for the ask! It is a great pleasure for me to share some Polish media to the people! I just have to preface this and tell especially my fellow Poles that: I am by no means an expert on the subject, I like a lot of bad media, I like a lot of children's media and mainstream media that I love to shape by my own creativity ok and I don't know every single niche thing so please don't come for me. Be nice please or I'll die of embarrassment! With that being said, here are just some of my picks of some cool things I like that I would recommend to check out! (Again I don't know about how available these are around the internet and what would be the subtitle situation but still, i love these pieces of media and think they are interesting to even just read or check out visually if anything!)

- The Akademia Pana Kleksa movies (Akademia Pana Kleksa, Podróże Pana Kleksa and Pan Kleks w Kosmosie) (1984-1988)- These children's fantasy and fable inspired beautiful movies based on a book incorporate beautiful puppetry and set designs, visually they are one of my biggest inspirations. Having both dark,whimsical and sci-fi elements they have been in my visual language since I saw them as a kid! Really really recommend looking into them, even though they may be wacky and strange at times! 

And they contain absolutely amazing songs :

Available to watch without subtitles unfortunately here, but worth to check out the visuals of all the movies in the series: https://www.ninateka.pl/vod/dla-dzieci/akademia-pana-kleksa/ 

- Poszukiwany, Poszukiwana (Man- woman wanted) (1972) (one of my favorite movies ever!) - a comedy film about a museum curator who gets accused of stealing a painting and goes into hiding as a maid. You would think with polish humor it would be the typical: haha man dressed as a woman, hilarious! type stuff but no! It’s funny, charming, sweet and smart and surprisingly based. Marysia, just one chance please queen. 

available to watch with subtitles here (alongside many other great Polish movies): https://35mm.online/vod/fabula/poszukiwany-poszukiwana

- Ranczo (tv show, 10 seasons, I believe it’s available on Netflix) - the epitome of Polish society. This is just pure Poland in tv show format. A timeless classic, never gets old, never stops being funny and relevant. Watched it a million times and could watch a million more and not get bored. An American woman with Polish heritage comes back to her family village and chaos ensues. I think the characters are so well defined you don’t need to know so much deep Polish lore to get what is going on so I really recommend it!

Other stuff you can find on Netflix I recommend are: 1670 - comedy show about 17th century Poland, Rojst (all seasons)- crime show set mainly in the 90’s.

And something that’s a Polish phenomenon that I absolutely love is media based around popular copypasta: a short film Fanatyk  based on this timeless classic of a copypasta, and a tv show called Emigracja XD - about polish guys finding work in the UK.

And obviously the shows I make art for are always something I encourage people check out like Czterdziestolatek (amazing old show with a cult following) and Ojciec Mateusz (absolute shitty formulaic 30 season tv show that i love with all my heart).

Thank you again, sorry for the long post! There’s obviously many more cool Polish media to watch but this is just what immediately popped into my head! :-))

#long post #asks #:-)

[undercoverpena]

HAPPY HOUR with jo 🌶️

it’s been a little while since the last one, and I thought (not taking away from how horrible things have been this week, but also to lift one another up) we could do another Happy Hour? this is our safe place to escape to, and while I can’t bring cake or flowers to everyone, I thought this is a nice way to let people celebrate/feel celebrated. so let’s have a Thursday happy hour (will continue until the asks stop). you can begin sending in now, but I’ll begin answering on Thursday 6pm BST (so lots of time to send things in).

rules:

✨ be positive

to enter happy hour, either send in:

✨ something good that happened to you this week that you want to share and celebrate

✨ share that you completed making a challenging gif set, writing a oneshot/series or creating a piece of art? send in a link, let’s eat cake over it it! (only rules for this one is that it has to be the one you’re proudest of to do date — only because there’s lots of lovely fic rec spaces and im not trying to smother over them with this)

✨ a nice message to someone you love on tumblr dot com

✨ a game you want me and you to play: fmk, would you rather

✨ share a happy thot, thot or even just an idea over characters — let’s ramble

✨ share your fave photo of pedro or ppcu character

✨ anything positive you’d love to share

and just add #HappyHour within your ask

for those that reblog, if you’re inspired to start your own, please feel free to copy my rules and guidelines, but please just link back to this/tag me so I can see all the positive! ☁️

NPTs: @thetriumphantpanda @goodwithcheese @secretelephanttattoo @psychedelic-ink @hellishjoel

@rhoorl @joelsgreenflannel @joelscruff @swiftispunk @mrsmando

@fuckyeahdindjarin @5oh5 @julesonrecord @kedsandtubesocks @imaswellkid

#jo’s happy hour ✨ #fandom fun #happy hour with jo #jo’s thoughts

[jellysxtarr]

Question! Do you do Miss Thavel and Miss Bloomie? If so, I would like to request Miss Thavel and Miss Bloomie [separated] x Wife!Reader. Please :3

Ignore if you don't! It's Fine. :D

Ofc ofc!! If the characters are possibly ooc, do forgive me since there isn't much information about them yet.

Miss Thavel + Miss Bloomie with a Wife! S/O

Warnings: // (just them being ooc really)

MISS THAVEL

— ʚ Dating, or even being married to Miss Thavel is one hell of a ride! She can actually be nice (at least to you), so there isn't anything you should be concerned about.

— ʚ She isn't near being shy or hesitant to say about being married to you, saying it loud and proud while even showing it off.

— ʚ I don't really see Miss Thavel as an affectionate type, nor is she repulsed by showing it in public. As said previously, she has no reason to hide the fact that both of you are married to each other and will openly shove it into anybody's face.

— ʚ She can be possessive, growing jealous sometimes too quickly and way too easily. Miss Thavel can get a bit violent, using more force on somebody if saying both of you are married won't work.

— ʚ If you were also a teacher that was going to the same school, she definitely would be near you at all times. Inviting you to the teachers lounge, randomly popping up in your classroom (which might even cause your students to have a sudden feeling of fear), and the list goes on!

— ʚ I'd have a feeling she would tell you "I love you" or call you nicknames in a different language since she is a language teacher, which she has done in every language available!

EXAMPLES BEING "Ich liebe dich" "meine schönste" "je t'aime" "ma chérie" "mi corazón" "te amo" etc..

— ʚ She would, and probably will, get rid of anything that might be bothering you, may it be a random person (even though that would end badly) to an object nobody would really care about, it's gone before you could even reconsider!

MISS BLOOMIE

— ʚ Miss Bloomie, who is more introverted, wouldn't really be as open about being married to you unless someone asks about it, which she will answer proudly.

— ʚ Since she is married to you, she will act more open with you (chaotic even), feeling more comfortable around you will let her go loose! Which has it's own perks of being married to her.

— ʚ She doesn't get jealous as often, seeing that you won't be leaving her anytime soon (nor plan to), makes her not have a reason to be. Even when she does get jealous, it ends up more violent rather than peaceful at the end.

— ʚ She would probably be near you at all times, which would be even worse if you were a teacher at the same school. Being at least a few steps away, often times sitting right next to you at the teachers lounge and being the one to appear more often in your classroom.

— ʚ Miss Bloomie would be more clingy, while being more restricted on showing affection in public, she wouldn't care at all the moment both. of you are alone and would show her affection without a care in the world.

— ʚ she would be more attached to your hip, making sure you're doing fine or bothering you (and even if, she'd also be one to get rid of whatever is bothering you). I see her form of affection being mostly words of affirmation than anything else, so be prepared to hear a lot from here when she does show her affection!

#fundamental paper education #fundamental paper education x reader #fpe #fpe x reader #fpe miss thavel #miss thavel x reader #fpe miss bloomie #miss bloomie x reader

[yuujispinkhair]

Mannn at this point Sukuna gonna be Yuji’s dad omg 😭😭 I’m crying, I literally just woke up to this mess, what’s going onnnn, but him being Yuji’s hot uncle is fine too 🤭🤭

I mean... now that you mentioned it, I am beginning to see the potential ;) Modern AU, where Sukuna is the rich, successful, arrogant uncle in his 40s, who runs the family business. He had a fallout with his brother Jin years ago, and now holds a grudge and only interacts with the family if he really HAS to.

Now, I am not sure if you are one of my Sukuna x Reader lovers or a Sukuita lover... but both options have nice potential. The following ideas obviously contain incest, so please be aware of that and don't read it if you are uncomfortable with it!!

For Sukuna x Reader (all characters are of age): Reader is part of the extended family and sees Sukuna after many years again at some wedding, and can't take her eyes off him. And he thinks he could really use a little fun distraction at this family event he hates so much... also wouldn't it be sweet to corrupt that young thing and make his family even more mad at him??!! ;)

For Sukuita (all characters are of age): Sukuna grudgingly lets his nephew work for him, but he is so snappy and so rude to Yuuji, while Yuuji is low-key drooling over how hot his uncle is. First, he thinks it's just that he admires Sukuna and wants to be like him, but soon, he has to admit that he is actually attracted... And Sukuna is furious with himself because that damn brat is so eager to please him and so cute and so innocent in such a dizzying way that it makes Sukuna want to do all kinds of bad things with him.

Ngl, I love those a lot!!

#tw inc*st #cw inc*st #sukuita

[zabiume]

I really like the fact that Ichigo is a translator it wasn’t something that i ever thought he would do but it somehow works. I never thought he’d become captain I just don’t see it for him which is why it’s confusing when people say he should’ve become one ?? Like no way 😬

What do you think about him being a translator ? Also what did you think about the use of him being captain ?

ohhh, this is such a dead horse topic on my blog at this point, but yeah, i've never vibed with ichigo being a captain, mainly because a) he's much, much stronger than the average bleach captain😅, b) the thematic point of the story was that he's the living world protagonist and rukia is the soul society protagonist (at least during the first arc), and honestly if anyone has a believable motivation for "changing the system," it should be rukia, who grew up in the worst side of that system, and c) it's hard for me to wrap my head around what he would even do there. his duties and narrative goals have long transcended the mere hollow-purging he was doing in the first arc, i mean he was literally fighting a god in the last arc to prevent the collapse of the three worlds 💀 if anything, ichigo cares about all the realms, given how many times characters in TYBW comment on how virtuous he is because he's willing to rescue even his past enemies if they're no longer causing any trouble to him.

i think the reason this comes up a lot in fan circles is not because of how people perceive ichigo, but how they perceive soul society. shinigami characters are very popular, so it's easy to assume a lot of fans see them as the good guys. personally, i think kubo writes them as a very "do whatever is necessary to keep up the status quo" guys who act in soul society's best interest first and foremost, but aren't all necessarily bad people. it's the classic "good individuals ≠ good system" set-up.

i don't think kubo concerns himself with whether a side character is morally good or bad, he just writes them as having motivations that are consistent with who they are as people. for instance, mayuri isn't "good" but he acts in accordance with his own specific set of values. rukia and renji are "good" because their values often align with ichigo's. it's kind of like...the individuals might be likeable or even nice, but the system itself has done some pretty corrupt things. systems are slow to change, so i'd find it pretty unrealistic for one individual to be able to change centuries worth of practices overnight. of course, soul society has changed because of him, but so has everyone else. byakuya met ichigo and byakuya changed, grimmjow met ichigo and grimmjow changed, riruka met ichigo and riruka changed, etc etc. he's the consistent one, it's the others that change because of his influence. he's already done all of this without being captain, so i don't know how it would be interesting, narratively, for him to attain that role. what would it say about the character that hasn't already been said? it's implied that soul society aspires to reach his level, not the other way around, so it doesn't make sense to posit them as aspirational here. as the hero, ichigo is the aspirational one for most of the characters in the series.

also, i know this isn't a popular opinion, but i like that ichigo has parts of every "identity" in his blood (shinigami, hollow, quincy, fullbringer etc etc😂). therefore, it makes sense to me that he's got allegiances to every group, just as he's got enemies. he's bigger than any one particular group.

coming to his living world job, i think it makes perfect sense and i love how kubo phrases it

from a watsonian perspective, we knew from the very start that ichigo is good at english, likes it, etc etc. we also knew from the very beginning that he wasn't much help around the clinic and that isshin actually urged him to stay away from it, even though i would've been equally okay with him being a doctor. ichigo is smart and he has a great sense of compassion, so that's not at all a bad job for him either.

HOWEVER, my most favorite thing about it is, again, coming back to how kubo phrases it. ichigo as a character has always had insight into both sides, the dead and the living, that's what makes him special as a human, so in a way, he's always been a translator, it's just the language that changes. he's understood the language of grief, managed to bridge the gap between the dead and the living. he's been able to convince soul society to return ginjou's body by communicating the real anguish that ginjou felt as a soul reaper. he's been able to understand the arrancars even as he was fighting them, and in silent victory, he's even been able to empathize with aizen! ichigo is all about understanding, as you can see here in one of my favorite bleach chapters:

ichigo is very intuitive, very eager to understand another heart and build connections, and what else is translation other than accessing a whole other language, a whole other mind, trying to understand it? it might not be accurate or exact, but it comes close, and that's the joy of translation, isn't it? finding the most resonant way to have one world connect with another? the way i phrase something might be different from the way you phrase it, but feelings are universal and no one gets that better than ichigo, who has repeatedly understood the feelings of characters whom he shares no culture with. there's also a meta-ness to the "connecting two different worlds:" bleach has always had contrasts (the modern world, which ichigo lives in, vs the ancient world soul society is modeled on; the western influences on bleach's aesthetics, while bleach itself is a japanese story). ichigo ties everything together, so it's just very fitting and satisfying for him to occupy a position like this!

obviously, it also makes sense for practical reasons, considering the work-from-home nature of the job allows him to be on stand-by in case of any emergencies that need him, and it allows him to break the shonen generational curse by being very involved in his son's upbringing😂. kubo mentioned on klub outside recently that kazui's room was built according to ichigo's specifications, and that's a level of involvement i've always expected from ichigo😅 he's a homebody at heart, he loves having a home and a family and i think any job that allows him to be close to them is a good one! kubo gets a lot of deserved criticism, but i think he's always known his characters well, so i like it! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#bleach has plenty wrong with it but i think a lot of it's criticism in the GP stems from people projecting their nrt trauma onto bleach😂 #and like. i'm sorry you had a bad experience there but ichigo is not naruto & ichi/hime isnt a nrt endgame ship & bleach is not nrt! #it might be only slightly better but it IS still...better😅 #do i even tag this....i never check the ichigo tag so idk what the vibe is like there #ichigo kurosaki #asks #i personally enjoyed the idea of it even back then because some ichihime writers were writing him as one well before it was even canon lmao

[greenerteacups]

I’ve meaning to send this ask for ages and finally found the courage to do so :) I started reading lionheart on a whim in the beginning of November and since them after reading everything a couple of times, all I can say is that it is a masterpiece. I am so in love with your writing, especially with how you give Draco the space to be gracious and grow up. I love for example when they are in the Slytherin common room and Draco see for himself that the mermaids are sentient beings just like him. Also, I am completely enamored with the golden quartet (?), the relationships between them feel much more balanced, and I have so much love for Harry, Hermione, and Ron. I do think you does the characters justice, if not written in a better and more honest, human way. Btw, I love your Narcisa because I am such an apologist for her and her crimes. (If Narcisa has million fans, then I'm one of them. If Narcisa has one fan, then I'm THAT ONE. If Narcisa has no fans, that means I'm dead.). This also aplies for hermione. Anyway, all I am trying to do is to put into words what the world you design means to me, but alas I do not seem to have. When the time comes for my unborn children to read the Harry Potter series, I am showing them your books and telling them it is canon.

Now that I am done showering you with complements, I have a couple of questions. First, after reading the last chapter (which I adored), the fight between Draco and Sirius, one of my favorite moments, kept coming to mind. Was it intentional for Draco to give such honest wake up call for Theo basing himself from the talk he had with Sirius years ago? Secondly, I am not sure with you already answer this, if so, feel free to tell me, but if you could choose Poet, Soldier or King for each – Draco, Harry, Hermione, and Ron – which one would they be?

Thank you for taking the time to read. I usually download each chapter because I like to highlight my favorite parts, I will try to be more present on AO3! And sorry for any English mistakes, it is not my first language!

Thank you, my friend! This is a completely lovely ask, and as I often do with lovely asks, I've hoarded it for a while to re-read whenever I want a nice treat. However, I've left the question unanswered long enough.

If we're going to do the Soldier/Poet/King test, I want to complicate it a little. You can either do it by personality (the way we do when we say "I'm soldier!" or "I'm poet!") or you can do it by narrative role, i.e. what you actually do in the context of the story. Those can be different. For instance, you can be a poet-coded soldier (your chosen weapon is your word, but you're pushed by your circumstances to fight), or a soldier-coded king (you carry a mighty sword, but you're forced off the battlefield to rule, i.e. you want to fight but you can't). That opens up the range of ways to fill the role. So it's like:

Obviously, the central axis here is going to be the most satisfied/content with their lot in life, but there's a broad range of happinesses.

If you ask me, Harry is a poet-coded king, because he's incredibly reluctant to take leadership, and he doesn't want anyone to fight for him. He runs away in Deathly Hallows because he can't stand to be at the center of a war (which is going to happen anyway) and has only accepted Ron and Hermione's sacrifice begrudgingly. It's also worth saying that Harry's best moments come when he's trying to talk someone down: he's telling Remus to go back to Tonks, he's telling Slughorn to preserve Lily's memory by being noble for her sake, he's telling Riddle to "try for remorse." Harry is at his best when he's giving consolation and understanding, not when he's fighting; his signature spell is Expelliarmus. Kid's not a soldier. And he hates the idea of being a king. (This is, not coincidentally, one of the unhappiest combinations.)

I read Ron as a true soldier, not because he enjoys fighting, but because that's almost always his knee-jerk reaction to conflict, and it's also where a lot of his strengths lie. Ron is brash and bold and he will swing if you step to him, and that's why people love him (or hate him, if they do). Even in his best moments, when he's being a strategist and tactician, he's employing his skills in the service of battle. And the narrative is happy to put him in positions where that's the skill he has to contribute. He thinks of the basilisk fangs and the house-elves in the kitchens; he's good at tactics, but he doesn't do broad-strokes strategy.

Hermione is king-coded soldier, because I think in a different series of novels, she is absolutely the protagonist, and she kind of thinks she should be. She's proactive, driven, clever, and calculating, and she orders people around like she's the boss of them — usually with good reason, but she still does. She sees herself as the HBIC, and she often gets a bit irritated when other people don't jive with that idea. It's funny how often Harry gets along by just doing what Hermione tells him. That being said, her narrative role is being sworn in Harry's service, and as the books go on, she increasingly embraces that. She defends him and offers to risk her life for him, sacrifices volumes (her parents!!) and compromises her safety (gets tortured!) for his sake, all without complaining or seeming to begrudge Harry at all. He's her king; she's his knight. Which is another way of saying soldier.

Draco is a poet-coded soldier, or possibly a poet-coded king, depending on what direction you take his arc from the source material. In the books, he's kind of a flop, God bless him, he doesn't really manage much in the final days of the war. Besides refusing to identify Harry (after identifying both of Harry's well-known travel companions... booboo you tried), he's basically fit for neither use nor ornament from Book 6 onward. But taken more broadly, he is someone who absolutely does not want to be here — he doesn't want to fight, he doesn't want to be in danger, he doesn't want to risk people — getting conscripted forcibly into a conflict that was running for years before he was born. And he's conscripted, like Harry, because of his heritage; it's a position he was born into. Depending on how you read his relationship to power, and having it, he can either be a soldier or a king, or someone teetering on the cusp between them.

#i've deliberately leaned into their canon characterizations here to avoid spoilers #but I don't think they're fundamentally different in LH #I think of LH as just... sitting down at the DJ booth and changing the mixing #also by the way you never ever have to apologize for your English to me. I make typos all the time #and I don't know what your first language is but I'm willing to bet you speak a lot more of mine than I do of yours #so you're the one putting the effort into allowing us to communicate with each other #the correct response to that act of generosity is gratitude #greenteacup asks #lionheart spoilers

[supernovafics]

hiiii i just read your entire i’ll be there for you universe and I’M OBSESSED❤️❤️ Friends to lovers is my favourite trope ever and I love how you wrote a cute slow burn without characters being toxic and mean towards each other bc that happens a lot!

I was wondering how would their parents react to them being together?? And when do they decide to tell their parents, and how it goes down? It’s totally okay if you don’t want to write it but I thought it might be cute!🌸🌸

𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k words

warnings: explicit language, fluff, implied smut, very slight parent drama

summary: in which your parents finally find out that you and steve are dating 

author's note: thanks for the request! (also for @hippiefairy02 since you requested basically the same thing like a week ago lol). i didn’t really know how to end this one so it kinda just ends lol<3 enjoy though<333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Spring 1986

The movie became long forgotten after only the first twenty minutes, which was somewhat of a routine at this point. It was a good thing that you both had seen this one already. 

If you were to look back at who started everything this time around you’d toss the blame onto Steve for initiating the first kiss, but he’d put the blame on you for settling yourself close into his side and giving him a “certain look.”

You were far from thinking about who started what, though, because all you could focus on was the feel of Steve settled on top of you and his mouth against yours. 

Your hands started traveling underneath his plain white t-shirt and one of his took hold of your hip, teasingly slipping a finger or two beneath the waistband of your small pajama shorts. Your legs were tangled with his in a way that was a bit awkward because the couch was way too small to do anything completely comfortably, but you two were okay with making it work for the time being. 

You maneuvered a bit, attempting to push up so that your head could find the pillow that was leaning against the arm of the couch, and the abrupt movement made your forehead bump his.

It didn’t even hurt, but Steve still pulled back and looked at you concerned. “You okay?”

You nodded as you tilted your head up a bit to press a quick kiss against his nose. “I’m fine. You okay?”

“‘M good.” He nodded too and then slotted his lips against yours again.  

You were pulling away after only a second. “Wait, let’s switch. I feel like I’m gonna accidentally knee you or something.”

“Or we can just go to one of our rooms,” He suggested as his lips found your neck, which immediately made your eyes slip shut and you had to bite your lip to hold back the contented sigh that you wanted to let out. 

You almost said yes to Steve’s words, it would’ve been so easy to say yes, but you were trying to keep your thinking somewhat rational, so you shook your head instead. “If we do that, we’re not gonna come out for the rest of the night. And we said that we’d at least try to study for the test we have on Thursday once the movie’s over.”

“The movie we’re not watching,” He mumbled against your neck. 

“Still counts,” You said, lightly pushing him away, and he conceded as you shifted things around so that you were on top of him, settled nicely in his lap with your legs on either side of him. “See? Much better.” 

Before he could potentially say anything in response, you pushed a hand through his hair and leaned down to kiss him. His fingers started teasingly playing with the hem of your t-shirt before simply finding a home on your hips and squeezing you there. 

It was almost too obvious what should’ve happened next and both of you could feel the energy shifting into something a bit more heated, more needy. You would’ve lifted from his lap for a second so that he could slide down his sweatpants and boxers, and then you’d simply pull your underwear and shorts to the side because it would’ve been too much work to fully shimmy out of them. 

But then the phone started ringing in the kitchen and everything that felt like it was right on the verge of happening was pushed out of the window.  

You detached your mouth from Steve’s and sat up. “I’ll get it.”

He let out a groan, head falling back against the throw pillow and hands still on your hips. “Don’t.”

“We have six needy kids and a Robin, I think we have to answer it.”  

“Sadly, that makes sense,” His grip on you loosened and you finally maneuvered off of him after pressing a quick kiss against his forehead. 

You went to the kitchen, where the phone was, and picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hi,” It was easy to decipher your mom’s voice on the other end of the line. “What are you doing Saturday?”

It wasn’t surprising to you that your mom completely skipped past any sort of small talk; the “How are you’s” and “How’ve you been’s.” She always got straight to the point. 

“Me and Steve are gonna be out of town this weekend,” You answered. “I planned this whole date thing and we leave Friday night.” 

It was completely accidental; so accidental that at first, you didn’t even register what you had just told her.

“You and Steve are what?” 

“We’re gonna be in Chicago this weekend for—” You stopped abruptly, finally realizing what you said before. “Oh. Oh, yeah, um, we’re dating.” 

Her gasp was immediate. “Oh my God.”

You couldn’t decipher what that reaction was. She sounded surprised, definitely, but you couldn’t tell if it was a happy kind of surprise or upset.

“How long has it been?”

“A few months.” You shut your eyes then, bracing yourself for what you knew was about to be nothing short of an interrogation.

“What? Why haven’t you told us sooner?”

In all honesty, it wasn’t like either you or Steve were planning on keeping it from your parents forever, it had just never come up in the handful of conversations you’d had with them over the last few months. 

“It’s just, I don’t know. It hadn’t come up yet,” You ultimately answered. “And plus, you never really cared that much about my other relationships.”

“Sure, but Steve’s completely different. This is great!” She told you, and you inwardly sighed in relief that she was happy about the news; even though you were certain that you wouldn’t have cared about having her “approval” either way. “Does Christine know?” 

“No.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna call her right now,” Your mom told you, and you were actually perfectly okay with her ending the call with you right then to go call Steve’s mom instead. “Oh, this is so great!”

She was hanging up before you could say anything else and you were sighing as you placed the phone back on the hook.

“I’m sorry,” You told Steve as you joined him back on the couch. 

He looked at you, confused. “What happened?”

“I accidentally just told my mom that we’re dating, and now she’s calling your mom to tell her too.”  

“Oh, okay, that’s not that bad,” He shrugged. “I guess it had to happen eventually.”

“Yes, but I was kinda hoping that that day would be years from now. Like, when we sent out wedding invitations or something.” 

In your head, telling your friends about you and Steve was one thing, but telling your parents was something entirely different. Your friends were heavily involved in your life, and you knew that you couldn’t keep it from them forever because of that; and then it eventually just felt right to finally be honest about it, anyway. 

Telling your parents, on the other hand, was the farthest thing from your mind. 

“They would probably kill us if we did that. Especially our moms because you know that they’re gonna wanna be involved in the whole thing,” Steve told you, and you knew he was right. 

There were some few and far in-between moments where your parents would switch and pretend to be real parents that were actually involved in their kid’s life. Usually, it only happened during the holidays; Christmases spent pretending that you were a happy and normal family or Thanksgivings that were used to prove the same thing. In a way, it made sense for this news to warrant that same kind of treatment.

You groaned as you leaned further into Steve. “I hate that you’re right.”

Your mom was calling back barely twenty minutes later, right as the two of you were in the middle picking up where you had left off before the first call. Steve answered that time, pulling his sweatpants back up and heading over to the kitchen, and you slipped your shirt back over your head.

“Oh, um, yeah, that’s fine. That night is good,” You heard him say. “We’ll be there.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at whatever he was agreeing to right then.  

He hung up a few moments later and gave you an apologetic look. “Okay, now I’m the one that needs to say sorry.”

“What happened?”

“It was your mom,” Steve started as he sat next to you again. “She said she talked to my mom and they’re both really happy about us dating. And they decided that they wanna have a “celebratory dinner” kind of thing with us.”

“No.”

Steve nodded. “It’s gonna be at your parent’s house on Thursday since she knows that we’re going to Chicago for the weekend. I couldn’t think of an excuse on the spot, so I was just agreeing.”

“Oh, God. I feel like this is gonna be like Thanksgiving all over again.”

“Hopefully the dessert is better this time around,” He said, attempting to lighten the mood, and you let out a laugh. 

“If not, then we will definitely be ending the night at Third Street,” You told him and he nodded in agreement before pulling you into his lap. 

“Can we please go to my room?” He asked, arms circling around you. “I feel like the couch is cursed.”

You smiled, lips finding his for a brief second. “Okay, yes, I’ll allow it.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

This night didn’t feel anything like the Thanksgiving dinner that you and Steve had been forced to have all those months ago; at least, not at first. During that night, your parents had gone on and on about their ski trip that was coming up and there were barely any moments where the conversation was focused on you and Steve. 

Now things were different because all they cared about was talking about you two, which did make sense given the reasoning for the dinner. But still, you knew your parents, and this amount of excited fanfare surrounding the two of you felt entirely unexpected. 

Your dad was jokingly giving his “stamp of approval” for the relationship, and Steve’s dad was saying something about how you’d always been a good influence on Steve. And then your moms went on tangent after tangent going down memory lane and telling stories about you and Steve as kids. 

“I’d been hoping this would happen ever since the cruise,” Christine said, a happy smile on her face. “You two were practically attached at the hip the entire time, and that still hasn’t changed.” 

“Yes, you guys were always so cute together. Oh, and remember when you took each other to your proms? I think I still have the pictures somewhere,” Your mom said, smiling happily as well, and you honestly wouldn’t have even minded if she brought out the pictures. 

Eventually, though, things shifted, and toward the end of dinner, the conversation moved away from you and Steve. Instead, your parents started reminiscing about old moments from their collective friendship that didn’t involve you and Steve at all. This made sense to you; you knew that it could only be a matter of time before they finally started talking about themselves.   

With the topic of you and Steve long forgotten, you two slipped away from the table, no one noticing or stopping you, and retreated to your old bedroom that was just down the hall. 

You sat at the foot of your old bed and watched as Steve simply walked around, taking a look at the things that you had decided to leave behind and not bring along to the apartment. 

You kicked your shoes off and crossed your legs under you. “Tonight actually hasn’t been completely unbearable.” 

“Yeah, weirdly, it hasn’t,” Steve agreed as he walked over to you and leaned down to press a kiss against the top of your head. “There’s no dessert though, so we’ll have to go to Third Street.”

“Do you think they’d notice if we slipped out of my window right now?” 

He laughed a bit. “Fifty-fifty shot.”

“Personally, I wouldn’t mind taking those odds,” You said, smiling up at him. 

“I would say okay, but I think I have to be the reasonable one here and say that we should just walk out the front door like normal people.”

His words only made you smile wider because usually, it was you who would say the logical thing to do in situations.

“We’ve swapped roles tonight,” You said as you stood up and put your shoes back on. “I think you do a great job as the reasonable one.” 

“I don’t like it. You can have that job back after tonight,” He told you, smiling as his hand found yours.

You only nodded as you and he headed out of your bedroom. Your parents were still at the dining table, laughing about something that you didn’t hear. 

“Hey, we’re gonna head out. We have to wake up early tomorrow, so yeah,” You said, pulling their attention onto you and Steve. It was a lie, but it felt like it would be a plausible enough excuse. “Thanks for tonight.” 

“Yeah, it was great,” Steve agreed with a quick nod. 

A slew of “Goodnight’s” and “Drive safe’s” came from your parents, which you two nodded and smiled at before exiting your house. 

You let out a sigh of relief once you were sat in the passenger seat of Steve’s car. 

The night hadn’t been horrible, you’d experienced much worse dinners with your parents. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t glad that this one was over. 

“So, are we gonna be basic tonight and do milkshakes, or have whatever pie Mary made for the night?” You asked as you played with the radio and then left it on a station that you’d probably end up changing in a minute or two. 

Steve took a quick glance at you and smiled. “If she made apple, then I think the answer is obvious.”

“Very true,” You nodded and smiled back at him. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington series #stranger things series #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #posting this and running away for the rest of the night🫡 #see yall in the morning🫶🏾

[oh-my-may]

LET'S TALK HSR PENACONY 2.1 (or rather, have my impressions and thoughts on the main quest and some other stuff)

First of all, I went out of it with so many thoughts and emotions. This is not gonna be spoiler free (duh).

ACHERON IS SO FUN TO PLAY. Like, really really fun. Finally Simulated Universe is not an annoying pain anymore, and much quicker too. Thanks to a good friend of mine her relics aren't too bad either. She's already so fun to play with Black Swan, can't wait for a Kafka rerun now 💀

Aa for the story now: I FUCKING KNEW MIKHAIL WAS THE WATCHMAKER. I KNEW IT. Now to wait for them to confirm that Misha is connected to him, either as a ghost of his past self or a child or some sort. It's the only way.

It's also really refreshing to see that HSR is giving 4star characters significant roles in the story. First it was Tingyun, now it's Gallagher (and maybe Misha? I'll die on this hill).

Loved the pacing. Story was quite long and lots of gameplay but didn't feel overwhelming at all, probably because we didn't just stick to the MC the whole time. The characters split up and we didn't just follow the express crew but also Aventurine, I really loved that. It felt so dynamic and immersive.

WELT AND ACHERON INTERACTION. BRO. The way I gasped the whole time. We still don't have a canon confirmation of how Raiden Mei and Acheron or just generally HI3rd and HSR are connected but it's sp clear that Acheron is by far the closest connection yet. So sp excited to find out more about this. Raiden Mei, I'll love you in every universe.

Aventurine and Ratio are also very interesting to me. What does Ratio gain by involving himself in all of this? What does he get out of it? Anyway, their little journey through the mansion was nice. GIGANTIC RATIO. The kinda stuff my dreams are made of tbh.

Generally the whole Aventurine story got me right from the beginning. He's generally one of the most interesting characters to me (although this game has plenty of them). I gotta admit of course I was suspicious of him (as one should be of all Penacony characters) but I liked him nevertheless. This patch supported my feelings, my GOD HE xkdjjdjdjd. The way I cried. Since I played the story so late ofc I saw some spoilers/screenshots of his backstory but I never expected it to hit me this hard. Just wow. His ending, too. It's so bitter. Kinda hope we get to see him again, since he'a mot really dead, right? Just in some limbo.

His boss fight was really something. Not a lot of different patterns, but I still had to try a bunch of different teams, since you're kinda fucked even with just a single single target character in your party. Had to unbench Clara, and I gotta say, she came through for me. I might not have used the most meta team, but it worked soooo...

And just as I was glad I had managed the fight they hit you with that big cut scene, woah. AND THEN WITH THE FIREFLY SCENE? AND SUNDAY????

First of all, apparently it was common knowledge among the community since last patch that Sam was Firefly. Yeah, I gwt it bc of the leaks and stuff. But I'm just so confused as to HOW. Like HOW and WHY and just generally HUH. I can't wait for them to explain this connection (if you're reading this and you wanna spoil me with non-confirmed stuff then leave it, please, I might as well wait another 3 weeks).

And then Gallagher and Sunday... Just as I was admiring Sunday's beauty because he might legit just be one of the most gorgeous male character designs... THEY KILL HIM. When I tell ypu I was SHOOK. Mouth agape and all. Didn't know what to do. What a cliffhanger.

Now I don't have a real theory as to what I think will happen. If I remember correctly they said the main story will stretch until 2.3, right? I really wonder what else will happen, the story already seemed so huge this patch and I really wonder how it'll conclude. There's still so many questions and stories. Might add on to this post later when I have more thoughts.

Also Aventurine's banner just dropped but as of writing this I haven't pulled yet. Might add a little post later about it.

For now, have some screenshots I took during the story:

ALSO I GOT AVENTURINE. SECOND 50/50 WIN IN A ROW IN THIS GAME HAVE I FINALLY BROKEN THE CURSE. Now for the long and treacherous road of farming his trace mats and relics ... Since I never really prefarm 🥲

A pic I took in my excitement. Forgot the screenshot button exists.

#may's gaming #hsr #honkai star rail #star rail #penacony #acheron #hsr acheron #raiden mei #hi3rd #welt #welt yang #hsr welt #aventurine #hsr aventurine #dr ratio #veritas ratio #hsr veritas #gallagher #hsr gallagher #sunday #hsr sunday

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Miraculous is always weird about apology but it's also weird about the thing that count as joke and not. Like Marinette stalkery behavior? It used to be a joke but then BAM! S5 say nope, Marinette is just mentally unstable. And then there's the whole LB throwing CN to the trash can, "it's a joke!" Fandom said, except CN reaction said otherwise. He's basically beat himself for almost half of the episode because of his untiming joke.

I don't know what part of throwing someone in the trash is supposed to be a joke. Maybe if the character isn't affected by it at all, but considering he even talked about it to Marinette then it's not supposed to be a joke!

Miraculous' main humor style is absurdist humor and throwing someone in the trash is pretty classic absurdist humor.

To give a quick overview, "absurdist humor" is humor that is based on the absurdity of the situation the characters are in or the things the characters are saying or the way they're reacting to things. A key component of this humor style is irreverence. Even the darkest of topics aren't taken seriously, making it a terrible humor style to use in serious scenes assuming that you want the scene to actually feel serious.

If you want an example of absurdist humor done right, then watch some Looney Tunes cartoons. They're classic absurdist humor where nothing is sacred and nothing is ever treated seriously.

That doesn't mean that you're not allowed to be upset by one of these cartoons. It's perfectly understandable if one of them gets under your skin because a lot of what we see in Looney Tunes would be terribly cruel or straight up horrific if someone did the same thing in the real world. For example, this Daffy Duck cartoon always makes me laugh, but at the same time, I feel kinda bad for poor Daffy. If he was a real person, then this would not be okay:

The trash can stuff in Glaciator 2.0 falls in line with the above examples. It's very clearly there to be an absurd punch line:

Marinette: She doesn't hate you! Cat Noir: She threw me in the trash today.

But just because something is clearly a joke doesn't mean that you need to think that it was a good joke. Even if you think it was a good joke, you can still think it was a poor call for the overall narrative, which is where I fall. I love absurdist humor, but I'd never use it to have my romantic leads treat each other poorly because - joke or not - it's still establishing part of their relationship dynamic. The more you make jokes about them being cruel to each other, the more that's just who they are, jokes or not.

Circling back to Looney Tunes, when I think of Bug Bunny and Daffy Duck, I don't think of loving friends who cherish each other. I think of two characters who delight in torturing each other. If you asked me to write these two in a more serious story without any of the humor, they'd be toxic and abusive because that's the only dynamic they have. I can't think of a Looney Tunes story that shows them being nice to each other.

That doesn't mean that you can't use absurdist humor between people who love each other. You just have to be careful about what type of jokes you tell. If you stick to situational absurdist humor such as Marinette needing to steal Adrien's phone to erase a message, then you can get away with a lot more questionable behavior because there's a strong argument that a serious show would just never put her in that situation, making her actions easy to ignore.

Stuff that's a lot harder to ignore would include things like a running gag where Ladybug throws Chat Noir in trashcans when he annoys her. The more you do that, the more it comes across like she actively dislikes him. Eventually, it will reach a point where, even if you remove the joke, you still feel like you can't write her as actually liking her partner because the show never writes her as liking him. This is a problem I'd argue that the show actually has. They massively overplayed the pushy Chat Noir/annoyed Ladybug dynamic to the point where it was painful. I can only overlook it in my own writing because of how massively it goes against their intended character roles.

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical #adrien deserves better #marinette deserves better

[forecast0ctopus]

what do you like about star trek the most?

i dunno.... its just really fun i guess. not going to categorize what i like The Most since im bad at that but ill just put my scattered thoughts about it below lmao

lit has some Deep and Heavy topics but its generally rather optimistic + hopeful for people to do better which is nice. personally i cant stand doom and gloom type stuff – drama and violence and stuff is great stuff in a story, but when its approached from a point of view of outright pessimism just feels bad

the character relationships are great, im a huge fan of things being left somewhat vague because theres a lot of room for speculation – makes examining the actions/interactions characters have vs what they say etc etc fun.

oh it s COLORFUL.... the colored lighting the costumes the set dressing. idk i think a lot of tv/movies gets caught up with things looking too real (especially with lighting) but man im there to watch a film im there to watch a story.. not to look at real life.......

the scripting of a lot of it sounds a lot more subtle in what the characters are saying which again goes to the point of vagueness, i dunno i like that theres a lot of room for interpretation

to the point of vagueness again – sci-fi technology is also very fun to speculate about. give a hand wavy explanation and its very fun to try to think of how any of it even works. i need to know more about the relationship between the ship's artificial gravity, inertia, and orientation POSTHASTE

AH the fight scenes are fun. like no its absolutely not good fighting irl but its like watching cartoons to me. tom and jerry type stuff except theyre writhing on the ground much more. i love it when characters shove each other around lmao

im sure thats enough of all that though

#cant stand “dark” “edgy” shows they piss me off you can have dark themes and approach hard topics without being awful about it #(see: twin peaks) #ask #anon