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#i can stop thinking about them as radio hosts at all
losersclublol · 1 year
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head stuck on stozier as radio hosts on halloween
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jinxed-sinner · 6 days
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Alright here's my full (possibly hot) take on redesigning Hazbin Hotel characters and making a video showcasing those redesigns while you criticize the official designs.
First and foremost, you are redesigning someone else's OCs. Hazbin Hotel is, in essence, a passion project for Viv. How she talks about it makes that incredibly clear to me. The only difference between Hazbin Hotel and, for example, the story I'm developing surrounding some of my D&D OCs is that Hazbin Hotel got picked up by a streaming service and is significantly more popular than most passsion projects get.
Personally if someone wanted to redesign my D&D OCs, I wouldn't mind it, in fact I'd probably think it was really cool that someone would want to redesign one of my OCs to be closer to their tastes in terms of what they like to draw. I would, however, be made incredibly uncomfortable if someone made a video redesigning them where they also pointed out everything they thought was wrong with the designs. I didn't design these specific D&D characters to be 1-to-1 accurate to their classes in D&D or to look professionally designed. I designed them how I wanted them to look for the story I'm telling because I don't plan to ever play them in a campaign. The main character Avlan is a paladin, and I can acknowledge that his design might not look exactly like a paladin. One of the tabaxi in the story (Ice) is a bard and the other (Spark) is a ranger, and I acknowledge that their classes might not come across well in their designs. The single tiefling I've designed for this story (Tragedy) is a cleric but might not come off as one in their design. But I specifically designed them to be easy for me to draw because I want to be able to tell this story through my art. Having someone say "oh, Avlan's armor isn't paladin enough!" or "Avlan's fur colors and patterns should be closer to a wild rabbit's because harengon shouldn't be based on domestic rabbit colors!" would fucking hurt (especially because I'm so attached to Avlan, but it would hurt just as much if similar comments were made about Ice, Spark, or Tragedy). I am so passionate about these characters and being told their designs are bad or wrong in some way would be like a stab in the heart, and it would still feel like a stab in the heart if this story ever got a massive fandom behind it. Giving Avlan more complex armor because you think it'd look cool or just want to see what it'd look like? Sure, if I could draw more complex armor I'd give him more complex armor too. Giving him more complex armor but also shitting on the armor I decide to draw him with? My motivation to draw him in his armor, potentially draw him period, would be dead for WEEKS.
Why is it suddenly okay just because someone's passion project was picked up by Amazon Prime? Why is it suddenly okay to be "fixing" someone's character designs just because the project has a much bigger budget than most artists get and is on a popular streaming service? It's not. I don't care if you're a professional character designer, or think a specific character would look better with certain traits, or just don't like the character designs.
Hazbin Hotel is still Vivienne Medrano's passion project, and redesigning her characters and making videos talking about everything you think is "wrong" with them is, honestly, disgusting. You can make videos explaining your choices in your redesigns without putting down the designs that already exist, whether you like them or not. Me thinking Lucifer looks better with his tail not restricted to his full demon form doesn't suddenly mean I don't like his official design, because I fucking love it. If you wouldn't do it to an artist whose passion project is just a webcomic here on Tumblr, don't fucking do it to an artist whose passion project got picked up for a cartoon by a big streaming service (or any company for that matter).
#hazbin hotel#vent#kinda#i just think it's a weird double standard#'yeah don't fix people's art! unless theyre working on a project that was picked up by a big company then it's fine to fix their art'#like???#why is that a mentality that exists?? they're still viv's characters#and you can still redesign them without shitting on the official designs#pretty much all of my redesign notes for hazbin hotel are 'how can i make this character easier and more fun for me to draw'#because i specialize in furry art. i don't usually draw humanoids lol#so giving vox some shark traits for example or making adam more birdlike would make them more fun for me to draw#why can't we redesign them based on that without saying 'i think it's weird that this decision was made for this character's design'#they're still viv's characters. they're still her designs. stop pointing out everything you think is wrong with them for fucks sake#we don't need to talk about hazbin's character designs. we don't need to 'fix' them#just say they aren't for you and move on. there's literally nothing inherently wrong with them#i also feel like not enough people actually do research into the historical contexts of some characters#and i think it'd be really fuckin cool to see people redesign characters more based on headcanons based on that than anything#look into how the mafia operated in new york in the early/mid 1900s for angel. look into radio hosts in the 1920s for alastor.#look into las vegas culture during husk's lifetime for husk. look into the culture surrounding tv hosts in the 1950s for vox.#LOOK INTO THE CULTURE OF THE ELIZABETHAN ERA FOR ZESTIAL.#(i just presented zestial ideas to anyone who wants them on a silver platter. you're welcome)#(also new headcanon that zestial was friends with shakespeare in life because why the fuck not)#(when the tags get wildly out of hand)
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jinuaei · 17 days
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Cleaning up
Yandere! Husband! Alastor x Fallen Angel! Accidental Spouse! Reader
Part 1 --- Additional art
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Maybe it was a bad idea to be married to this man. You thought as you saw other demons run away and cower from him, you would have also ran with them if only the person that everyone is so terrified of wasn't holding your arm hostage. 
It would have been embarrassing getting dragged around by this tall deer if it wasn't the fact that you're also pissing yourself sacred. But the good thing is he actually believes that you are his ‘spouse’, so you don't think you'll be hurt…much. Besides, he’s such a gentleman that he gave you his coat to cover up your wings so that it wouldn't be exposed to any more harm.
After a while of trying not to trip, actually stumbling, and Alastor dragging you up again and again, you manage to notice the change of scenery, from tall depressing buildings to smaller, more quaint establishments. The demons that also frequent the streets changed from shark demons, to red imps, and finally to black eyed demons with sharp teeth. 
Well, at least they look friendly.
“This place here is the cannibal town! We’ll be visiting a good friend of mine, I’m sure she’ll be able to clean you up in no time!” your ‘husband’ exclaimed. 
I reclaim that statement.
The town is charming, and rather calming in contrast to that chaotic, overstimulating city you crashed landed in. Despite being in hell, there were flowers growing here, clearly being taken care of wonderfully by the citizens of this town. Vintage cars roam around the road and you see children playing in the parks you've passed through. It’s almost identical to what you see in heaven, but more demonic and nobody uses cars because well, everybody has wings. When you are reminded about the wings, yours twitches in response, rubbing against the deer’s coat. Because of that, feathers, still stained with blood, fall off. Alastor’s shadow tendril grabs it midair and pockets it into his trousers.
Finally, the radio demon abruptly stops, giving you enough time to stabilize yourself properly. With a wave of his hand he shows off to you a building named ‘Franklin and Rosie Emporium’, and you notice on the side there is a huge line of people waiting to enter. Whatever they sell here must be quite popular. Now that you think about it, it might be related to the ‘cannibalism’ part of the town.
Alastor must be important here because people moved away from him as he waltzed through the entrance and into the door. As soon as you both step in, an exclamation of his name catches both of you and your ‘husbands’ attention.
“Oh Alastor! It's always a delight when you come to visit the Emporium, how have you been? And oh! Who is this adorable birdie? Though they look absolutely filthy,” the demon steps into the view, a sweet looking lady with a polite smile who gingerly holds your hands.
“Rosie, meet mon cher, sent by the heavens to become my beloved spouse,” the radio demon lifts up your chin with his fingers, moving your head side to side as if to show you off to Rosie, “Also, would you be a dear and help them clean up? I expect my spouse to be absolutely pristine considering they're married to the greatest radio host of all time!”
“Well, I’ll be delighted to play dress-up with the sweet thing, maybe you can run to the tailors real quick and find them new clothes too.” 
Agreeing to that, Alastor waves you goodbye and leaves, Rosie then ushers you to follow her while shouting at Franklin to man the store while she's out. You both emerge to a room above the shop, Rosie leading you to a spare bedroom with an en suite bathroom. It's quite homey, with mostly red as its main colour, other than that, nothing stands out to you.
“You can stay here for the time being as you wait for your husband, bathrooms over there, and there should be bandages and such under the sink. I will be down below to help Franklin with the customers, just find me if you need help!” Rosie closes the door to the room and leaves you to your lonesome. It's time to clean up, you think.
Stepping into the normal looking bathroom, a bathtub greeted you, thankfully it's big enough to fit you and your broken wings. You absentmindedly fill up the tub as you think back to before you fell, trying to determine what happened to cause you to fall from heaven's graces. Nothing comes to mind and eventually the tub fills up. 
Shrugging off your ripped clothes and Alastor's coat, you sink into the water, seeping into the open wounds on your body. As much as you want to climb out the tub, it's important to rid yourself first from the golden blood and debris that cover you. You look over your whole body under the tainted water, you are covered in cuts and bruises but other than that, there's no concerning wounds to be found. Well, other than the numbing pain of your wings. Now that you think about it, your halo has been missing the whole trip. You can sense that it's there, but you cannot feel it above you, nor do you see it illuminate the room.
Maybe it's just hidden? 
As you think that, the halo starts to manifest just above you, the glow weaker and flickering just slightly as if it's a broken bulb. You frown at the sheer difference from when you were in heaven, when it was incredibly bright, the other angels would tease you for being a walking lighthouse sometimes. When you lift up your hand to touch the halo, you notice a mark on your ring finger. Looking closer, it seems like a tattoo, of two snakes twisting into something akin to chains. How odd.
A knock pulls you out from your thoughts and a voice from the other room calls out to you.
“I’ll be leaving out your clothes on the bed my dear, Rosie will come by in a moment to help you with your hair!” 
You quickly finish the bath and stumble in front of the mirror. Eyes darting to your mirrored self, you gaze upon the broken wings and dim halo, you are ashamed to see what you are now. Though you have done nothing to cause the fall, you still feel the undeserved guilt of being wrong. Ingrained to you during your time alive and dead, but you yourself know you've been good, so why berate yourself over other people's definition of good and evil?
Still, you try to will away the angelic limbs attached to you, and are successful in hiding it, leaving only red patches of burned skin on your back. Thankfully, you were able to soothe the irritated skin and patch up the area fairly well. 
You close the door behind you and check out the clothes Alastor got for you, it's similar to his in design but also suited to you. How he was able to get your size right you're not sure. Regardless, it fits you perfectly, and there's even an opening at the back for your wings, though you've already willed it away, still you appreciate the sentiment.
“Are you done honey?” a knock reverberates in the room and you answer with a ‘come in!’. Rosie does and is pleasantly surprised at the lack of wings on your back. You remember the coat left in the bathroom and grab it, shrugging it on to cover the exposed skin and bandages. 
The cannibal guides you to the vanity, starting to brush your hair.
 “So you're Al’s little angel hm? How’d he manage to catch such a cutie pie?” The woman's Boston accent grabs your attention from the various tools in front of you.
“Well… As he said earlier I’ve been assigned to him as his spouse haha…” you laugh awkwardly,”but enough about me! How about Alastor…What is he like?”
“Oh! He’s such a sweetheart! Well he is an Overlord, he eats other demons, and kills for fun, but don't you worry about that! You're his darling, he wouldn't do anything to harm you. You're in good claws sweetie.”
“Sorry, what???”
“Hm?” 
Rosie just smiles at you before finishing up your look. And might you say, looking at the mirror you look absolutely breathtaking. Coming out of the room, you find Alastor in the kitchen cooking. The smell wafting around the house is magnificent, you are reminded how hungry you are after falling from heaven.
“There you are my dear, I made some Jambalaya for you! My momma always said once I got my own cherie I should always provide for them for the rest of our days. So, expect more of this dear,” the man hums an upbeat tune as he gives you a plate of the food. 
Adorably, he wears a yellow apron that says ‘Deer-est cook’ at the front, you also notice that he had his hair up with a ribbon in a low ponytail.
You were excited to consume the meal right in front of you but then you remember where in hell you are now.
“...Did you put demon meat in the Jambalaya…?”,eyes glancing up at him, the question lingers in the air as he catches your eyes and stares back, still smiling. A few unnerving seconds pass before he answers with a ‘of course not!’
You breathe out in relief and trust your so-called ‘husband’.
Or maybe I shouldn't trust what he says, but he's still staring, what if he gets angry that I won't eat it?? Oh heavens, please forgive me.
With closed eyes, you finally bite down on the food. Praying to all things holy, hoping that you did not do anything blasphemous by accidentally eating demon meat, you find yourself pleasantly surprised at how delicious it was. You almost forget proper etiquette when you start ravenously gulping down the rest of the food. 
The demon before you chuckles in delight at the sight of you enjoying your food. As much as he would like to feed you his exotic diet, he would rather not force you to do anything you don't want to. And oh…the pleased shiver that ran down his spine at the trust you've shown him by not questioning him any further regarding the meal was truly delicious.
Dear angel… MY dear angel. How perfect you are… I'll never let you go. After all, you were made for me weren't you?
“I forgot to tell you how absolutely darling you are in that outfit! I must say I have quite the taste! Haha!” he laughs at his joke,“might I ask where your wings are? I could’ve sworn it was there when I left! Unless you cut it off? You should’ve asked me though, I’m sure your wings would be a delicacy…”
“I was able to hide it, I don’t want to be a walking target you know? An angel down in hell seems like a bad thing to be.”
“Oh don’t worry about being a target! I’ll kill whoever tries to even look at you wrongly,” crooning at you, he brushes away invisible dust on his coat, “also you may keep my coat dear, it’ll be a good way to show people that you belong to me now, that is until I can find a ring worthy enough to be worn by you!”
“I-uh thank you…” 
Crap. If I don't escape soon I'll be officially married to him. Then again…if he keeps cooking me good food I guess it won't be too bad…
With that in mind, you hope your future will be brighter than your descent to hell.
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A/N GODDD THAT TOOK SO LONG. Honestly, the more people kept asking for part 2 the less inclined I was to actually make one but here I am.
That being said, I will be making more fics at my own pace. Finals is coming up so please do not expect new parts for this fic. Truth is ITS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE MULTIPLE PARTS! It was merely an idea I had while I was in an art block. Nonetheless I hope you enjoyed it :DD
(I unfortunately do not do taglists)
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weebsinstash · 3 months
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I know the show isn't out yet but Stayed Gone is stuck in my head and I'm chugging my yandere Vox juice so hard right now. I think he has the capacity to be absolutely insufferable
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---for starters THE SPYING POTENTIAL WITH THIS MAN. You're telling me he can directly plug himself in to the city power grid and see through all televisions, potentially even phones and computers too? Could he put himself on your phone and start going through your texts? Could he even just put himself on your phone real quick while you're sleeping to check in on you? You couldn't even have privacy in your own home because of whatever screens are around he could potentially shoot himself to or watch you through. Imagine just being in your apartment completely alone and he's suddenly on your tv. Like what if you had just been sitting there topless or with your dick out or something or 👀 I mean. He could see so much, really...
---God honestly like. You know I keep mentioning the Instagram without ever attaching pics or anything because I'm on mobile and I'd have to use the hazbin Instagram archive blogs here on tumblr to go find them back like, you know Val would openly post the meanest shit, would literally post Vox's face being busted up because he woke Val up from a nap or i think it was he literally just brought him the wrong soda (which to be fair was taken from Velvet and was half empty), and then you go over to Vox's account and his pic was taping his pieces back on while being really frustrated and kinda lowkey looking like he would cry
Like Val's out here "women are stupid also men are stupid too" and talking about how he adopted a dog and killed it within like 48 hours and here's Vox celebrating his pet's birthday with cake and a party like. Why are these men together. Why. Why. Don't get me wrong I love to be the involuntary third in a toxic codependency but--
look all I'm saying is... do any of you get really really upset when you see someone being mistreated, especially more so a friend of yours?
READER JUST LOSING THEIR SHIT GETTING FERAL ANGRY SHOUTING AND SCREAMING AT VAL BECAUSE HE PULLS SOME SHIT and like that's IT for you because 1. Valentino might like actually backhand you one as well, do you think he wears rings so it hurts, 2. Vox sees you defending him and like, it's based on your own preferences really but if he wasn't already gaga this CEMENTS it and 3. especially if he watches you have to take a blow for trying to stick up for him. Like what if you cry. I have a low pain threshold, I'd be sniveling and crying at the least. Valentino storms off and Vox is helping peel you off the floor cause you curled up into a ball or some shit and he's sitting there thinking "wow they suck at this but they still did it for me 🥺"
---during his song with Alastor, it's a little confusing because they show an actual camera crew when he's turning the TVs on, but i think it's pretty clear that he can control whatever the screens show visually, thus his little zany sketches and being able to talk to himself and at one point, showed the visual of himself blocking the radio Alastor was projecting on right next door. I can just see him using this to kind of.... fuck with you, really! Or do whatever he wants? He's trying to suck up to you and he's surrounded by roses, or you're his co-host/guest host and he thinks your joke was funny and gives a little audience laughter as a treat
Or you know... you're running from him down the street, passing all these different screens and displays as they power on and show things like, him "jumping in front of you" while demanding you stop or, trying to show some kind of blackmail publicly, or just, begging you to just ACCEPT HIM and showing you all the fun things he could do with you, "cmon, I said I was sorry, stop freaking the fuck out! We can- we can do that thing you've always wanted to do, what about that?!" as he tries to project you two doing something fun, but most importantly, doing it TOGETHER. You're running from him terrified and he's showing you images of like you two smiling and happy or, it becomes scarier as he's more desperate
"Don't-don't make me do something fucked up!! I'm serious, STOP RUNNING" and he's like freaking out, showing shit of trying to hold you down, tying you up, and/or shoving you into a locked room
Sudden thoughts of "what if the more emotional and unstable he becomes, the less he can control his intrusive thoughts and shows his more impulsive darker desires". He's tweeking and the screen glitches and you briefly think you see yourself completely restrained, blindfolded, gagged--
---he's just like OBVIOUSLY so prideful but also immature and whiny ("who gives a shit about alastor?" Well you, mr hes just quietly minding his own business and I'LL start beef because i feel threatened and STILL LOSE, like awww my poor little pogchamp got publicly humiliated in an argument HE started out of nowhere, he's my little sad wet baby lmaoooo) and we already know his relationship with Val can become physically abusive, so, you pair him staying in that kind of relationship, being codependent, with this personality of his, and I can just see.... ACTUALLY FUCKING TRIGGERED LIKE LITERALLY CRYING UPSET VOX BECAUSE YOU REJECTED HIM like he's pissed he's hurt he's lonely he's heartbroken and HELL NO IS HE GONNA ACCEPT THIS
Vox would be over here proudly claiming on his TV show that NO HE REJECTED Y O U, not the other way around! He's not upset! He's totally fine! Meanwhile everyone watching can tell this man is manic and visibly hotboxing copium, "I didn't even really like you anyways!!.... no, I mean, shit, fuck, COMMERCIAL BREAK--" *cut to technical difficulties screen because the man is CRYINGGG*
-- Valentino and Reader bonding over teasing Vox and making him flustered and of course, obviously, the inverse. I still kinda like the idea of "they both think you're cute but like nothing exciting until one night they bump into you unplanned and you're all dressed up". Like Val is from the 70s or 80s so they go to a roller rink disco whatever kinda place because I'm sure the coke game there is INSANE and you're just like, swaying your hips spinning around to Let It Whip or September or something dressed in some shorts that make your ass look just right 🤌
You're sneaking back into the studio after a night out and they're both lounging somewhere and Val's like "uhhhh who is THIS coming in without saying hi to Daddy?" and you pull your sunglasses down like "SIR??? 😳" And now HE'S flustered because he didn't know that was you and Vox is feeling some new kinda way because he's used to seeing you in like, your work uniform or casual wear
Val who then makes your work uniform really slutty and you have to serve him and Vox wearing it 😩❤️
---I have this thought of like lmao imagine walking down the sidewalk with Angel and seeing Vox on TV and Angel is like "ya know he can see everything outta dese things when he's plugged in" and you're like "bullshit, he couldn't possibly process that many screens at once, it'd overload his brain, he wouldnt be able to concentrate" and you're like "here I'll prove it, hey Vox, check it out you fucking dweeb" and flash him your bare titties or you MOON HIM
scenario A would be that he INSTANTLY barks out laughing, "hey Val, that dumb slut who brings you drinks just flashed me!" And he just totally shows it on the air, maybe partially censored, maybe not at all, your phone is ringing IMMEDIATELY, of COURSE it's Val, and Vox is broadcasting your mortified embarrassed expression, "our big story tonight: drunk bimbo fucks around and finds out! More updates after this word from our sponsor!" and the man will noooootttttttt stop bullying the fuck out of you afterwards, because he's got a crush on you and you're like someone weaker than him his insecure ass can punch down on
Scenario B is that he instantly turns pink and about 5 seconds later he blue screens and the entire city experiences a blackout and when he comes back on the air he's like stammering and, glancing at, it FEELS like he keeps glancing at you, but, is he really?
------
I dunno... like I'm sure Valentino is gonna wind up being unstable in his own way but I guess there's a certain, ALLURE to Vox being a little bratty and whiny while also having these very VERY handy, actually quite scary abilities and resources 👀 like boy show me what that screen do 😫💦
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helluvapoison · 2 months
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how would the overlords propose?
Say Yes
how the overlords would propose
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Carmilla Carmine ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Romance isn’t an afterthought to her, as hard as that is to believe. Carmilla is a very passionate woman… it just comes after logic. Whether you knew it or not, you’ve been put to the test much earlier on. (How you treat her daughters and how they like you is the most important part, if you didn’t pass you wouldn’t have made it this far)
By now she knows you’re worthy and she’ll bring you into her world permanently. Carmilla plans something intimate. She surprises you in her office for a candlelit dinner, courtesy of her private chef! She is a businesswoman first so she gets straight to the point and asks for your hand, literally, slipping the band into your finger.
“Marry me,” Carmilla says, uncharacteristically soft, “With you at my side, I will be complete.”
˚✧₊⁎ Zestial ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Telling himself there’s no rush, that he could wait a thousand more lifetimes to make you completely his, doesn’t cure the urgency to do it anyways. He’s seen any ounce of goodness down here nabbed before anyone else can take it for themselves. Zestial never claimed to be unselfish, only patient. He tests the question to himself first very early on. Then he phrases it differently to you or refers to himself as your husband to others. You mistake it for a slip up and smile anyways. A delightful sign in his eyes.
Zestial is pleased that you don’t suspect it. How could you when he’s merely being his usual, charming self? He takes you strolling down the same path you took when he first began courting you. Ever the gentleman, he pauses before the bridge over the river of magma and actually kneels.
“Would thou spend the rest of this infernal afterlife beside thyself? Say yes and I swear never to stray and never to allow harm to befall thee. Thou shall only know happiness from this moment on.”
˚✧₊⁎ Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Love at first sight doesn’t exist so do not twist his words when he says he knew you belonged to him the moment you met. Feelings were bothersome and you flooded his entire being with them with a simple gaze. Lingering between the emotions was always pain, which he was familiar with. Unfortunately for him, the cure for his ailment was always you. Marriage was not in the cards for either of you. Alastor thought he had no intention of going through such hassle until he couldn’t stop staring at the vacant spot on your ring finger. Bothersome.
Truly you had no idea what he was plotting. It wasn’t uncommon for him to bring you to his radio tower, going over notes with him or just quietly hanging about while he worked. He told you there would be a guest on his next show and he wanted to rehearse the questions. Simple enough. Before you even read the last one Alastor stopped you with a finger to the lips,
“Pardon my dear, you’ve been a wonderful co host— utterly indispensable these past few years— but that’s my line!” There’s a flicker of hesitation before his smile takes a slightly gentler form, a side of Alastor only you’re privy to, “Will you marry me?”
˚✧₊⁎ Rosie ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Since she was married a few times already, you thought Rosie would be over the whole thing by now. Well you couldn’t be more wrong if you tried! She adores weddings, from organizing them to being in them; the whole shabang is right up her alley! There was a reason her ex husbands didn’t work out but you don’t have to worry about the whys and whatnots. You’re oh so very special to Rosie, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing you!
The fact you think marriage is off the table has her giddy. She loves having the element of surprise! Cannibal’s left and right are in on the plot, making sure you’re exactly where you need to be all day long until you reach the town square at sunset. Crimson rose petals lead you to the gazebo where candles are lit all around your Radiant Rosie. She smiles so fondly at you it makes your knees weak as you climb the steps to reach her. She poured her love into two pages, prepared to make it her best speech ever but the second you were in front of her everything went out the window!
“Oh! I can’t wait another minute! Marry me, won’t you?”
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ the vees might get their own part cause, i feel, they’re particular about marriage
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alientee · 2 months
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This is a 3 shot series inspired by the amazing writer @gyoongim. They did amazing with my ask and I’m in love with Alastor x Jessica rabbit .🤣
Fun fact It’s said that Jessica rabbit is also asexual!
Charlie felt defeated, she tried her hardest but there wasn’t shit she could do against that damn Adam or the council. Sera took pity on her stopping her for a moment “Charlie…… while you were not successful maybe we can come to a compromise?”
Charlie looked back up with her with hope in her eyes while Vaggie continues to glare.
“How about this we send an angel down with you, they spend a day in your hotel and we get to learn about all your progress. Maybe that will help sway the masses and myself.
Charlie instantly nodded thanking them over and over again. “So where’s the angle joining us”
“Emily has gotten her….. ah there they are”
Emily bounced forward happily introducing you
“Charlie this is y/n she’s one of the angels that actually believe In your cause!”
Sera looked down at you giving you a stern look.
“You’ll stay there for 1 day and then come right back y/n. Stay safe and good luck”
You walk into the portal with Charlie and Vaggie leading to the hotel. The demon princess didn’t stop talking about how she was going to give you a tour, show you everything they have to offer, even take you to the few nice places in hell. She started to ask you questions. She seemed really sweet and excited to get to know you. “Can I just say you look absolutely gorgeous, you’re like wow!”
You giggled. “Thank you hun I used to turn a lot of heads when I was alive. Too bad I only had eyes for one man.”
Charlie looked even more excited “ Oh my gosh tell me everything!”
You went on and on about your past, how you were a singer and a model, how you were married to a radio host. How you got married and ended up retiring to be a housewife. You stopped your story when you ended up in front of a hotel looking around shocked.
“So this is hell huh? Now tell me more about the hotel”
Charle links her arm with yours pushing the doors of the hotel open. “This is the hazbin hotel! Were we have 2 residents ready to rehabilitate and reform there life into good! It may not look like much but I garuntee you everyone here is dedicated to making there life better!”
Vaggie scoffed “not everyone”
“Okay almost everyone hehe” Charlie rubbed her neck nervously.
You look around and see the interior with a scary looking bar there were a couple of demons one looks like a spider the other a snake, two cyclops and the last one was…. a bird cat?
“Everyone this is y/n! She’s gonna be staying with us for the day to prove to heaven that demons can change!”
They all introduce themselves and the spider named angel comes up to you, looking you up and down. “ Beautiful and Busty they should’ve never sent you down here toots! Now you can give me a run for my money”
You laugh it off giving him a wink “I’m a tough lady I can handle myself. It’s nice to meet y’all”
Charlie gives you a tour of the hotel and you meet up with group once more “So what do you think y/n!”
“I think y’all have something really nice going on here”
“Thank you-“
“Charlotttttteeee~ why is there an angel in our premises didn’t I tell you the couldn���t be trusted”
You turned around at the sound at the static like voice.
“Y/N… is that you?”
Alastor still keeps his signature smile but his eyes are wide with confusion. He walks up to you pulling you into his chest. Alastor kisses both your cheeks putting his forhead against yours. “It’s me mon amor”
“Alastor!? Honey you look so different and your smile is even bigger than I remember”
“Well you know you’re not fully dressed without a smile. Y/n darling what are you doing here? Someone sweet as you doesn’t belong down here”.
You hold him close snuggling into his chest “oh Al it’s alright I’m just here to see the hotel on behalf of the council. I missed you so much ! What are you doing here honey ? I was so confused when I never met you in heaven what on earth got you down here?”
Alastor looks away sheepishly “Well about that-“
“UM EXCUSE ME!”
You both turn around to see everyone looking at you both in shock. After a long silence Charlie speaks up.
“So you two know eachother huh”
You looking at everyone shyly “You remember how I said I was married to a radio host”
Alastor smirked pulling his arm around your waist. “This gorgeous gal has had my heart since I first laid eyes on her” He kisses your forhead
None of them could believe it! You were Alastor’s wife?!
Vaggie moves forward while everyone else is looking at you in shock. “Hold on, wait a minute let me get this straight. You! A gorgeous, kind hearted, helpful angel…… are married to that thing?!”
Alastor squints his eyes his static going off “what are you trying to say Vaggatha”
Angel interrupts her before she could speak
“ it means she’s waaaayyyyy out of your league smiles. I mean Vaggies right, she’s hot and your….anyway, how and the hell did a dame like you end up with old freak face anyway?”
Alastor rolls his eyes “ I won her affections with my charm and manners. Something you clearly don’t have my feminine fellow”
Angel looks at him uninterested “yea I ain’t buying that. Toots why you with this stuck up prude?”
You hold alastor arm cuddling up to his side “He makes me laugh, how could I turn him down when he always put a smile on my face” you giggle softly
Everyone was still shocked by your answer none of them could really see someone like you with someone like alastor but decided to accept it (everyone accept Angel and Vaggie) Angel smirks
“Ok so I was right it definitely wasn’t for his looks”
“Well beauty isss in the eye of the beholder, I guesss he jussst got lucky”
Alastor rolls his eyes “Are you miscreants quite done”
“Now we always know why Mr fancy talk creepy voice is always smiling. Thinking about his busty wife gets him through the day haha”
“Angel dust if you wish to redeem your soul and make it into heaven I suggest you watch your mouth before I end your life.”
“Oh Al leave him be he’s just joking, now tell me why your down here”
Alastor sighs giving you his arm. You grab it not questioning it as he walks you both to the door. He doesn’t even look back at the others .
“I’m talking my wife for a walk we’ll be back shortly”
As the two of you walk out everyone stays silent until Angel speaks up. “I don’t care what any of you’s say, he was definitely not hitting that right”
As you both leave Alastor stays silent. You don’t rush him to talk, you never did. You two never fought when you were alive you always talked it out and took it one step at a time.
“You should know that I didn’t tell you this because I didn’t want to hurt you or scare you. You were the only good thing I had left after my mother. So I hope you can forgive me for keeping it from you.”
“Go on hon I’m listening”
“The bayou serial killer, that was me doll….i died getting shot in the head with a rifle, being mistaken for a deer while I was burying a body. And I may of…. ate a few people, but they were never in your food!”
You looked at him in shock but you never let go of his arms. “Oh my gosh….. that’s what you were doing out there, they never told me, just said it was a hunting accident….. I should’ve known! You would always go one these nature trips at night when ya barley had friends plus I shoulda known someone like you doesn’t like outdoor activities like that! How ya wouldn’t let me in your tool shed because it was to much “dangerous” stuff in there. How you’d come home from the radio tower early hours in the morning. I thought you were stepping out on me for a time but you still showed me all the same amount of affection so I pushed that thought out the window”
Alastor laughed a laugh track playing in the back ground “Oh daring why would I ever step out on the most beautiful woman in the world. I’d be a fool to have eyes for anyone but you”
He squeezed your hips pulling you into a hug “Do you regret marrying me, please tell the truth?”
“Oh Al of course not, even if you are a killer you were so sweet and gentle with me I’ve never felt safer than when I was with you. Your a wonderful husband I’ll never regret you honey ”
Alastor pulled you close his smile getting wider. “How about I make it up to you darling let me take you out on the town, it’s been a while and you deserve to be spoiled doll.”
“I’d love that Alastor”
You both walked down the street in silence with you both linked arm and arm as always. Until Alastor spoke up again”
“And by the way sweetheart Tu portes l'enfer hors de cette robe, j'ai raté ces courbes”
You blushed “Still a charmer I see”
Part 2 comming soon~
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cherubfae · 2 months
Note
Can you write Alastor x a Reader who works in radio? I don't think Alastor would let them on air since he doesn't seem the type to have a co host to me but maybe he'd have a intern who gets him coffee or a script writer.
Good To Be Back On the Air || Alastor x reader
tags: gn!sinner!reader (described to have horns but is an otherwise ambiguous demon!!), fluff, pre-established relationship, mentions of death, true crime, vox being vox lmao, jealous alastor, blood/bloody play (sorta??), Valentino is his own warning (threats of SA but nothing happens), mentions of injuries and being kidnapped (use of chloroform), implied VoxVal
a/n: I hope you enjoy!! This got a bit long!
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Much like Alastor's life before he died, you were also quite the popular radio host for your time. Engaging, funny, and respectable. Your audience loved tuning in the early hours of the morning to you recanting the strange occurrences of the multiple killings of men from the late 1920s until that stream suddenly stopped during the year 1933 within New Orleans, Louisiana.
True crime has always been your passion, in life and in death. You certainly didn't think you'd end up in Hell for taking the life of someone trying to mug you on the street. A tall, masked man who saw to it that you'd never see the light of day again. A couple gunshot wounds to your abdomen proved effective as you rest against the wall, bleeding out onto the concrete with your soon-to-be killer lying facedown and dead mere feet from you. Killed by the very thing you sought to bring awareness towards. Quite poetic in a way.
As your gaze clouds and vision becomes unfocused, you look up at the stars. The ares around you was beautiful. It was one of your favorite parts of town, even your death wouldn't taint the beauty of the stretching oak and maple trees reaching tall towards the skies. The faint sound of smooth jazz playing from the record shop only a few paces away mixing with the swirling scent of coffee. At least you were dying in a place that you loved.
Now, here you are. In Hell. Doomed to total damnation for all fucking eternity. You'd been down here for a couple months, taking up residence near Cannibal Town, yet still unsure of what to make of all the carnage, debauchery, and depravity. You didn't think you belonged in Hell, even if you took the life that simultaneously extinguished your own.
"What's wrong, dearie? I've known you to be quiet but today you are exceptionally so." Mused Rosie, her gentle tone pulling you out of your reverie. You glanced down at your tea, sighing.
Leaning your cheek against your palm, you meet her charcoal-black eyes. Genuine concern etched onto her politely beautiful face. "I'm just feeling lost is all, I guess. I told you how I ended up in Hell, right?" Solemnly, Rosie nods.
Placing down her tea cup, Rosie wiggles towards you a bit. "Maybe you just need to find that old spark again! Something that roused you when you were alive! I have a friend who was a radio host, same as you. He may be able to have a job for you! Alastor is as charming as they come!" She grins, her mouth full of pointed teeth on full display.
Your brow quirks. "Alastor? The Radio Demon?" Rosie nods, excitedly. Alastor had been the prolific serial killer that haunted New Orleans back in the 1920s. It felt weird that the main man-- subject, you studied in life would soon be your acquaintance and potential boss in death. You'd heard many hushed tales about the aforementioned Radio Demon dealing in bartered souls and how he wreaked havoc against his fellow Overlords overnight. He definitely seemed like the kind of demon you didn't want to make light of, or worse, be on his bad side.
"He's a quirky one, for sure, but don't listen to all those rumors and gossip!" Rosie waves her hand with a laugh. "Alastor is still a gentleman and I'm sure he'd be delighted to offer you a job! Maybe you can intern for him? Besides! If he's ever rude to you, ol' Rosie will kick him in the shins! I'll wear my extra-pointy boots!" She giggles, holding your hands in hers. "You'll be in good hands, my dear! I'll let Alastor know you're coming right away!"
Staring down at the neatly folded paper in your hand, you double and triple check the address scrawled in neat calligraphy.
Hazbin Hotel.
Was it normal for a former serial killer slash radio host to become a hotelier that's trying to rehabilitate sinners?
With a shrug, you made your way up the incline taking note of the rather ominous looking radio tower jutting out from the far-right side of the hotel. A sign displaying the words on-air was currently unlit and it looked quite dark inside from what you could see from the ground. Perhaps the great Alastor wasn't at home.
Knocking on the front door, you're greeted by a tall, deer-like demon with two-toned hair and sharp yellow teeth dressed in a dapper red-pinstripe suit complete with a microphone-like cane. Scarlet eyes stare down at you like a lion watching a gazelle. You feel utterly and completely exposed, like he's peeling back your every layer, surveying you, before he even said a single word.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear! Quite a pleasure! You must be the little darling that dear Rosie sent, yes?" Alastor places his hand on your lower back, guiding you past the hotel's front doors and into the welcoming comfort of the establishment's front lobby and reception area. "This is a place where wayward sinners such as yourself can find peace and be led on the path of redemption to ascend to Heaven by Hell's very own princess, Charlie Morningstar!"
On queue, a blonde-haired girl sprints up to you squealing and flailing her arms a bit. She takes her hands in yours and offers you a big, delighted smile. You like her immediately. "Oh, my gosh! Welcome, welcome to Hazbin Hotel! I see you've met our gracious host Alastor! He's mentioned that you're going to be interning for him-- how exciting! We are so thankful to have you!"
To think, all those months ago had been the start of your journey with your friends. You had felt so out of place in Hell, in your new skin, uncomfortable with the weight of sharp horns protruding your skin and the strength of your clawed hands. You were quite pleasantly surprised at what you could withstand now as a demon.
With the attention directed back at him, Alastor grins with a whine of radio static. It was the equivalent of a lazy smirk with his half-lidded scarlet eyes taking you in one more, searching for any potential risks you may pose though you didn't intend any of that sort. You felt your skin begin to heat the longer his gaze remained on you, and hesitantly break the eye contact with the demon in favor of Charlie, who has been excitedly talking about all of the hotel's features.
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"I brought your coffee, sir." Alastor hums out a soft 'thank you' yet continues to fiddle with the buttons and tracks on his console, not raising his head to look at you. "Rosie gave me some venison for you. She said aid it's your favorite when it's fresh and raw." Placing Alastor's simple black coffee on a small side table, you revere your boss with a fond expression. Rosie had been truthful she said he was the charming sort. There certainly was an air of respectability about him that men lacked from your time.
"Our dear Rosie is certainly a clever one, and she is quite correct. There is no better way to enjoy meat than having it served fresh. Preferably off the bone but this will do." Alastor tilts his head, turning to the side to regale you from the corner of his eyes. Those damn beautiful scarlet gems. "Something the matter, my dear?" Alastor's voice is a soft crackle.
Stumbling in surprise, you wrack your brain for a plausible answer. When you find none, you shake your head from side to side cursing the heat that sets your cheeks ablaze.
Alastor smirks, standing from his stool and approaches you. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger; his claw lightly dragging across your lower lip. Blood beads up following the path his claw created. He swipes it up, licking it in front of you.
"Tasty," Alastor grins, leaning down and bumping his nose into yours. "As I said, meat is best when fresh." He squeezes your cheek lightly, chuckling at the exudes into his palm. "If I wasn't certain, I'd say you have a little crush on me, hmm?" He turns his back to you, those damned scarlet eyes that see straight through your soul strike you where you stand. "That'll be all now, dearest. Thank you for your time and your blood."
You couldn't get out of there fast enough. You weren't afraid of him, no, you were more scared of kissing him now more than ever. A fantasy of both of you pressed tight to one another with mouths soaked in blood would be all you can think of for hours.
Whatever was going on between you and Alastor continued on much like a game of cat and mouse only he seemed to be going out of his way more and more to fluster you, saying things that would catch you off guard.
"I don't think of myself as much of a man who desires a relationship beyond friends and family, but cohabitating with you as lifelong partners does sound desirable."
"Hmm, tell me. Are your horns sensitive?" His breath ghosts then one day, causing you to shriek and cover them. You pout, turning your head to glare at him. Alastor's grin only seemed to stretch further. "Only teasing, darling, no need to get so uppity."
It was a slow evening, Alastor had sent you off on another errand. There was a sense of apprehension worrying his brow, glancing at the analog clock. The hour hand strikes the 3am mark. He'd sent you off almost an hour and a half ago, so where were you?
Interference crackles onto his radio, Alastor hissing as the feedback screeches. With ears pinned back, his eyes narrowed further when a familiar voice crosses.
"Ugh, I will never understand why thr fuck you use this shit, Alastor." Groaned Vox. "Anyway, I got your cute assistant here. You should see them, shaking like a leaf." The radio glitches in tune with Vox's laughter. "Valentino here has been itching for a new plaything, doesn't that sound good, sweetheart? Maybe we can broadcast that for all of Hell to see, right Al--"
Smash. Alastor's fist smashes through the radio cutting off Vox's boastful rant.
On the other side of the city, Vox blinks in confusion. "I lost the radio signal? Oh, fuck, God this shit is so old." He sighs, leaning back in his chair. Spinning around, he gives you a wry smirk. "Guess we'll see if the Great Alastor comes to rescue his lost pup, hmm?"
Glowering at him, left bound and gagged, sitting on the cold, hard floor. Valentino gives a harsh tug on your hair, your teeth sinking into the cotton gag shoved in your mouth, a muffled grunt leaving you.
An electric feeling in the air has your hair rising. Vox and Valentino share a confused look. A large fist blasts inside of the V Tower, claws sharp as they did through the metal like it was butter.
"Oh, fuck, it's Alastor!" Vox shrieks, scrambling to get away from the broken window. A second fist smashes through sending Vox into the opposing wall with a deep thud. Valentino runs to his friend's aid, helping him up.
"Well, this is what you wanted, honey."
Vox groans in protest. "I know."
Green electricity crackles, a dark shadow pooling into the room and with a shriek, manifests into Alastor.
Paying the two no mind, Alastor crosses the threshold and kneels down before you. His clawed fingers are gentle as he removes the gag around your bruised mouth. "Sorry it took me so long, mon cour." A tentacle bursts through his back, spiraling directly into Vox and Valentino, sending the two into the neighboring room with a loud crash.
Scooping you into his arms, Alastor calmly walks through to the next room, his hand cupping the back of your head. "Rest." He regards the other two males with a snarling crackle.
"If I didn't have more important matters to attend to, I would eviscerate you two gents. Touch what is mine again and I'll broadcast your fucking screams all over Hell." Alastor hums, exiting V Tower.
"Holy shit! Did you see?? He finally sees me as his rival!" Vox cheers, tossing both arms into the air in celebration.
"This may sting, but I trust that you can handle it." Alastor says, rubbing off the blood from your brow with a cotton ball doused in isopropyl alcohol. Wincing softly, you take the moment to look at him closely. You'd never seen Alastor so disheveled. Even with dealing with enemies, he was always composed. But, tonight, he had been anything but the picture of composure. He looked positively feral.
Valentino sighs, "Honey, you need psychiatric help."
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"Is there something about my face you find interesting, dearest?"
Squeaking, your face flushes, shaking your arms frantically. Gasping you quickly place a hand to your ribs. Guess they really did fracture something when they knocked you out.
Alastor stills your hands with his own. "Easy now, pet. You're in no state to be moving around like an interpretive mime. I was only teasing you, my dearest. You had me worried tonight."
Hanging your head low, you turn your gaze away. "I'm sorry, Alastor. I don't know how they got the drop on me. I was walking home and smelled something odd--," you gasped in realization. "Chloroform. It had to be."
Alastor growled tensely at that. He tied the bandage around your arm and with a snap of his fingers the medical kit disappeared and a serving tray appeared carrying a kettle full of hot chocolate and a staple 1920s dessert: pound cake. This one was drizzled with a bitter chocolate and filled with strawberries.
Alastor takes your hand and gently kisses your knuckles. "Care to join me for a treat?" His tone was a touch more gentle than it had been a heartbeat ago. You smile, nodding eagerly. He grins and begins to cut the cake, serving you first. "One more thing."
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
Softly, Alastor kisses your cheek. It was the lightest of touches and over as soon as it happened. He busies himself by pouring two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, the apples of his cheeks were a rosy hue.
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circeyoru · 1 month
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You Think It’s That Easy? _ Part 2 = Requested
[Yandere Human & Demon!Alastor x Arranged Marriage!Reader]
Part 1 — Part 2 (here)
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You heard of Alastor’s death from the news, an accidental while he was in the bayou in the dead of night, mistaken as a deer by a couple of hunters and feasted upon by their hunting dogs. When the mistake was realized, it was already too late. Alastor was already dead
But that wasn’t what concerned you. It was the news that tied Alastor’s death to the death or disappearance of another individual. The Bayou Serial Killer, which has been ever so active as if possessed, stopped all activities after Alastor’s death. Loyal fans of Alastor’s radio show said it was a coincidence, some even trying to provoke the silent killer to prove Alastor’s innocence. To everyone’s horror, Alastor was not so innocent
The Bayou Serial Killer is and was Alastor, the famous radio host. Though to you, Alastor was more than that, he was your childhood friend and a good partner of a false marriage to satisfy both side’s parents, then later continued to ward off suitors for either of you two. Now there was one more identity of Alastor in your mind
A heartless killer
You realized that the late nights Alastor had before you left were all Alastor’s murder playtime. You should have known when he brushed off your worries for his safety, he whispered that he’ll be fine since he is confident in his self-defense. He didn’t tell you it was because he was the killer everyone feared
Yet the moment you felt a chill down your spine was when you remembered the promises Alastor made to you
“I’ll keep you safe.”
“You know I can deal with your troubles if you just ask, right?”
“I won’t let anything or one harm you, never.”
“Anyone that crosses you will face so much misfortune, you know?”
“Hahaha! How dare they prey you like vultures when you have me.”
The suitors that came to you and disappeared soon after… You now know what happened to them. Alastor happened. He killed them all. But you can’t understand why. What was the reason behind the killing and how had you never known?
That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that you felt guilty and fearful of the news. Couldn’t you have prevented all Alastor’s killing if you were more attentive? If you two hadn’t been as distant from each other to living your preferred lives, would things be different?
As a reminder to not be too involved with yourself and ignore others, you kept a red radio on the shelves by your books in the living room. Also a reminder that Alastor was gone
It wasn’t long before weird things started happening. First was that the radio would start up itself without anyone going near it, it wasn’t even powered so it was practically impossible for someone to turn it on or for the radio to play anything. First it was classic music, then it was love songs you’d hum from time to time, after that was eerie slow music with screams from time to time
Then items around your home would disappear and reappear somewhere. Your work left undone would be miraculously done when you wake up to continue doing it, even when you napped on top of it
You tried taking it to the shop to fix it but the shop owner said it was in perfect condition, no malfunction. You tried throwing it away even, but it appeared back on your shelf at its usual place
But when you tried banishing the radio with paranormal experts, those people that helped you all disappeared and then their bodies turned up like something clawed at them or poke something sharp into them. As weird as it was, police chalked it up with a raging deer or bears. Neither were good ends
What you’re worried about was how your lover, now husband was missing ever since the radio started piecing out your name and sweet nicknames that reminded you of Alastor
It wasn’t until once you got drunk and stumbled through the streets, trying to get home. You were pulled into an alley with someone trying to force themselves on you. In that drunken daze, everything was a blur and you weren’t in your right mind, so you didn’t even know why you called out that name
“Help… someone… Help me…” You tried fighting off or at least struggle against the grip but your limbs all felt like noodles. “Al… Alastor…”
“Of course, Love.”
You didn’t see the shadows raise and clawed hands gripping so tightly on your assailant’s arm that they released you. You knew you slumped down against the wall, your head bobbing back and forth and your hair all over the place to the point of covering one of your eyes
You didn’t hear your rescuer tear your attacker like paper, blood overflowing like a spring fountain, yet none got onto you. The screams of pain and the cries of mercy from your attacker who has now become the prey
The scene you saw, your mind didn’t register it, you were way too intoxicated from all the alcohol you drank to drown out your loneliness. You left Alastor, then he died and his secrets brought to light made you feel like you were not supportive enough. You missed your husband who’s on missing posters. Everything was so frustrating and sad at the same time
When it was all done, Alastor, in his shadowy form, kneeled in front of you, staring into your eyes. His fingers snapped and both of you reappeared back at your home. You in Alastor’s hold, carried like a princess, like during the wedding you two pretended to have and Alastor carried you all the way to the dance floor
“You’re so red, Alastor.” You slurred, eying his coat that was in a shade different from how you remember, why was it red? He wears dark brown ones. Your finger poked his cheeks, “Your smile’s too wide, if you smile this much, you’ll hurt your cheers.”
“It’s fine, Dearest.” Alastor spoke. Did you even hear the radio filter over his voice?
“I want to dance… I missed dancing with you…” You lamented as you lowered your finger to lay on your stomach with a pouty frown. “It’s been so long…”
“I think you need to rest, Darling.” Alastor started moving to your room. How did he know? No, did you even notice the way his eyes glowed when you mentioned missing him?
When you were laid down on the bed and tugged in, your clothes were magically changed to clean ones comfortable for sleeping soundly. “You’re leaving when I fall asleep… I just know it…”
The urge can’t be ignored. Alastor spent too long waiting and he is ready. “Well, if you agree, we can be together forever.”
“We’ll be back again?”
“Yes. If you shake my hand and wear this.” Alastor showed you a familiar band of gold. He kept it all these years, when he could first go to Earth due to your soul being binded to his, he searched high and low for it. 
Your confused and tired mind honed in on the ring. A familiar and comforting thing you given up, tears swell and a hand reached for it. “We’ll be back? Alastor…”
“Yes.”
“Okay…”
When your eyes opened, you were met with a major headache and an unfamiliar room. Looking around, you tried to get your bearings. While you did, you tried to remember what happened. Was this some stranger’s home? You immediately lifted up the blanket and looked under, sighing when that didn’t seem to have happened in your drunken state
You finally took in your surroundings. It wasn’t unfamiliar now, it was nostalgic. A replica of the appearance of what was your shared bedroom with Alastor when you two were still playing house. You shook your head, expecting all this to be your hallucination
Yet it didn’t fade back to what was supposed to be your bedroom. Confusion and fear set in. As did the memories of last night. What happened? Did you hallucinate Alastor appearing and saving you? But that didn’t look like Alastor. That can’t be Alastor. A monster. A demon. That’s what it was
Though Alastor was the only one to make you feel that at peace and calm and relaxed. The voice was his, just with an odd radio filter
The door to the room opened and the Alastor you met last night appeared in your sights. He closed the door behind him, smiling, “Welcome home, Dear Wife of mine.”
As Alastor had sworn, he brought you to Hell. You were his and he was yours. Try to run and it won’t be successful. For the two of your souls are bound together.
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Note: I'mma out of ideas for this one, so before you ask for a part 3. Just know that the likelihood of it happening is very very rare since I got other series that's more active now. There could be trivia or asks, that's what I consider to be extra parts to this one.
Circe Y. 
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onesidedradiostatic · 2 months
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One scene I simply CANNOT get over is the scene where Vox stops Val from going over to the Hotel and making a big scene all because of Angel Dust. Vox seems so disinterested/bored at first and only shows some concern when Val says he's going over to the Hotel. Even then as he's convincing Val not to go to the Hotel, Vox is putting up a similar front he does when talking to the public. It's a usual front you'd expect professional business men to put up when wanting to get a good deal. Or a game show host putting up the front to appear all nice, understanding, and friendly to the contestants and the viewers. Even after Val calms down, Vox seems to still be bored as he starts to rummage through some drawers. Even when Val says someone else is staying at the Hotel, asking "someone who owes you money?" in such done tone. But then Val tells Vox, likely knowing it'll set the TV demon off, casually mentions "the Radio Demon is also there" with a smug grin. That's when Vox reacts. He claws the counter/dresser in anger, asking Val what he said as to reaffirm that "yes, Alastor is at the Hotel and has been for a few days"...and Vox is not happy about it. Not only because his rival, who has been missing for seven years (Vox being the first to announce how long he'd exactly be gone and remembered exactly how long the minute he saw Alastor on the monitor), but that Alastor's been back for around a week...and he's just hearing about this NOW???
Then Val makes his "hey, killing Alastor is your kink~" comment...which Vox doesn't deny. At all. And then Vox literally can't take his eyes off the screen or focus on anything else when he notices Alastor on the monitor. Not even when Val was screaming at him, Vox couldn't stop looking at Alastor. Electricity sparking off his head as he's just so angry and excited that Alastor is back. It's like that one line from Val flipped a switch in Vox's head. Before he was told that, Vox seemed so detached from everything. Like life has become boring. But with Alastor in the picture again? He acts more motivated, interested, and sometimes even manic with how excited he is the fact his rival is in Hell again. I just love how after Alastor is mentioned Vox acts so fucking pathetic and stupid. I often think about that scene, and how you can just see a match being lit in Vox's mind or some shit
I still find it incredibly funny that because of how pathetic vox is when it comes to alastor, it's so easy to forget the fact that he is actually in fact smart and manipulative. him being intimidating towards his employee about the impromptu angelic security production, manipulating val by using leading questions, interpreting val's fucking stupid zero brain cells "put something inside them" comment as having an inside man. like wow! he is actually pretty smart! and scary to his employees! too bad that all goes away when alastor's involved or it would actually be very useful
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redclercs · 9 months
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— or, the one where you go back to square one.
✤ requested as part of the lavender haze event!
✤ ex! mick schumacher x fem reader, prompts used: “say you want me, and i’m yours.” + "what pretty noises you're making for me… am i making you feel good?" + car sex in the rain
✤ warnings: smut, slight angst, mutual pining, mdni!! little plot, fingering (f receiving), grinding, little bit of dirty talk, car sex, idk how to write car sex bear with me lmao, protected sex, piv, hair pulling. while the actions portrayed in this writing are consensual, do not take this as an example and be smart about having sex!! 2k words (this was supposed to be a really short drabble)
visit the lavender library
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It’s a make it or break it situation every time you see Mick.
Not your fault really, things with him never go the way you plan them in your head and there is no use in being angry anymore, life happens and that’s that. Your attempt at being something else with Mick had met its dead end sooner rather than later, and like a pair of fools you told each other you could go back to being friends, as if nothing had happened.
But honestly, how are you supposed to look at Mick as just your friend again? When all you can picture when you close your eyes are scratches that run down his back and the hickeys on your neck.
"What are you thinking?" he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts like he always does when he notices that faraway stare. "Everything okay?"
Unable to hold back your eyeroll, you nod. "Just great."
Mick frowns and then shrugs, he doesn't want in-depth explanations of your feelings lately. It's not that he doesn't want to deal with them, but he doesn't know how to without making a burden out of his own.
He flashbacks constantly to the night the decision of being 'just friends' was made between the two of you. It was for the best, or so he thought and the momentary relief he'd felt when you agreed didn't compare to the anguish that followed him since your friend let it slip that you were moving on with someone else.
It's possible he's taking you straight to someone else right this second, as you're on your way to a party hosted by one of your mutual friends. He shouldn't have agreed to this, and he's been praying for something—just about anything—to get in the way, so you can't make it to your destination.
You turn the volume of the radio up, you hate the song, but you don't think you can go on with the only sound being the rain pattering outside the car.
Mick's prayers are answered when the rain starts falling so heavy, it's impossible to see further than a few meters, even the headlights of the rest of the cars are hidden through the curtain of water falling from the sky.
"Should I pull over?" he questions, albeit stupidly. It's the best course of action right now and he is in no rush to continue the journey. "It's safer."
You shrug again, feigning disinterest although your body has tensed. "Fine by me."
Mick stops in a lay-by, turning the car engine off once he's made sure he's left enough space for another vehicle that wants to park behind you. "We'll just let the rain pass for a while."
"I know," you huff, he doesn't have to narrate everything you do. It's irritating and you're not a child that needs explanations every two seconds.
"Why are you mad at me?" he questions, turning the volume down before undoing his seatbelt. "Did I do something wrong?"
Where do you start?
"We would have missed the rain if you'd gotten to my place on time," you murmur. It's the first excuse you can think of to be angry at him, although it's not the real reason.
"I said I was sorry, y/n. I had things to do other than being your chauffeur."
"Well I didn't know being 'my chauffeur' bothered you so much, I could have asked Esteban to take me instead."
"You know it's not that," Mick groans, hitting his forehead against the steering softly.
"Then what is it?" you roll your eyes again, turning in the seat to look at him. "Please, do tell."
Mick stares back at you, and the choice is made within seconds in his brain, he's telling the truth. He cannot keep pretending he's not absolutely tormented by the idea that you've met someone else. "I don't want you to move on. I don't want you to go to whoever is waiting for you at that party."
You're caught off guard, having expected something entirely different to come out of his mouth. A strangled 'what?' leaves your lips before Mick is kissing you, praying once again, that you don't reject his advance. Even if it's what he deserves.
It's a desperate kiss, sloppy and wet and better than any you've ever had with him. Because you can feel how much he has wanted it, and you have wanted it too, so, so much. But what if this is all he wants? To know he still holds this power over you to have you physically, but with no strings attached.
You cannot handle the heartbreak of not being able to have him in the way you want to. Not again.
You push him off you, firm but gentle as his lips start traveling down your jaw and to your neck. "No, Mick. Not again."
"Why not?" he whispers against the pulse on your neck, sending shivers through your body. "y/n..."
“Say you want me, and I'm yours," you sigh, as his lips still hover over your skin. "But mean it, Mick. Mean it this time."
"I want you, y/n. I never stopped wanting you," his right hand is holding your jaw and the other is in your hair, combing it behind your ear. "And I'm not saying this just to fuck you. I mean it. I miss you."
You've known Mick for enough time to have figured out the little tells he has when he's lying. And you are so relieved to find that he's not, as he takes you in with those blue eyes you've missed so much. "I miss you too," you whisper, before looking for his lips again.
One moment you're still in your seat, legs twisted in an uncomfortable position and the next you're on Mick's lap, after he's moved the seat all the way back leaving you enough space not to be pressed against the steering wheel.
His hands are on your hips and your ass, lifting the skirt you're wearing before letting it fall back down. Your hands wrap around his neck before falling to his chest. The kisses you exchange are still messy, rushed and quick. You bite his lower lip before licking it soothingly and he groans, hands pressing harder on your ass.
You can feel his fingers moving to your inside thigh slowly, ghost touches that are there one moment and gone the next. You move your hips back and forth, slowly, starting to feel Mick's growing bulge. He grunts again, pulling you down on him to create more friction.
Mick's hand finally finds its way back to your throbbing core, you're starting to get desperate because it's just not enough. No matter how much you sway your hips in circles or you press down on him, it's not enough. "Please," you whine against the shell of his ear, "Please touch me."
His index and middle finger press against the wet cloth that are your panties and he smiles into your lips. "You're so wet for me,"
You can't find a coherent answer, and he doesn't let you anyway, as he moves your panties to one side to access your hole. His index goes inside you painfully slowly, and you know he's enjoying torturing you this way. Your fingers pull on the back of his head, tugging at his hair and you're not surprised when he moans, the hand that's not on your pussy clasps the back of your neck.
The rain is still going strong around you, and yet the only sounds both of you can focus on are the ones leaving you both. Gasps and moans, grunts and whines.
"What pretty noises you're making for me… am i making you feel good?" Mick pulls your head back by the neck for you to stop hiding your face against his neck as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. His thumb is drawing slow circles in your clit while he interchanges the motion of pumping you to scissoring them inside of you. "Do you want to cum?"
You nod desperately, grinding against his fingers while you still pull on his hair. "Please, Mick."
"Not with my fingers,"
You miss him immediately when he pulls his hand away, your hole clenching around nothing. But you hurry to undo his belt and zipper, you need him right now. Mick shifts in his seat, looking for the jacket in the backseat.
Your fingers wrap around his dick and you start pumping him slowly, your thumb running across his tip between movements has him moaning and bucking his hips.
"Seriously?" you pause, looking at the brand new pack of condoms he gets out of the inside pocket of his jacket.
"In my defense, Esteban asked me to buy them for him," his already reddened cheeks turn a shade or two darker, and he smiles at you. "He won't miss one."
You continue with your up and down movements while Mick opens the package and once he gets the condom out, he grabs your wrist to halt you.
Mick almost cums from the sight of you putting the condom on him, something he never thought he'd ever see again after fucking everything up.
You move your underwear to the side once again and Mick grabs your hips to lift you before letting you fall slowly on his cock. Both of you throw your heads back in pleasure and you stay like that for a moment, taking in the sensation of being as physically close as you can possibly be. Mick fills you up perfectly, and you feel so, so good around him.
Your hips rock back and forth slowly, while you maintain eye contact with him, blue eyes eating you up in awe. And he helps you lift your body and fall back on him at your own pace, he's at your mercy.
The hand that isn't steadying you goes back to your clit, caressing and pressing until he finds that right movement that makes you hold your breath before you release it in a pleasured cry. "Just like that, Mick, please."
He continues to draw circles on your clit while nipping on your neck, interrupted every now and then by his own moans of pleasure. Your pace quickens and Mick's neck strains, trying to hold his orgasm back, he wants you to reach yours first.
You smile at his distress, and move your hips faster guiding him up and down in frantic movements. And it's useless how much he tries to hold back, because when you bottom out, he groans, his release spilling inside the condom.
But you don't stop riding him, and he tries his best to keep his focus on the bundle of nerves between your legs, twisting his fingers faster and harder until you grip his shoulder and let your head fall into the crook of his neck, shaking with such pleasure you're seeing stars.
You stay like that for a few moments, while your breath goes back to normal and your body stops twitching with the remnants of your high. Mick goes soft still inside you and you support your weight on his shoulders to lift yourself off him.
The windows are foggy and the car smells of what you just did, the music is still playing in low volume and the rain refuses to stop.
Mick helps you return to the passenger seat, not without stealing another kiss from you, holding your jaw between his thumb and index.
Both of you fix your clothes in silence, one that falls heavy turning uncomfortable quickly.
"We can try again," Mick ends the silence after he's completely buckled his trousers and smoothed his shirt. "I want to try again with you y/n, I want to try until it works."
So you kiss him again, because you'll try and try, until it hurts or bleeds.
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─── team principal radio: ❝to the anon who requested this, i accidentally deleted your ask because i am stupid but i hope you see this and enjoy it! let me know your thoughts y'all♡❞
✰ lavender library cardholders: @karmabyfernando
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sunshinesteviee · 1 year
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and they were roommates - s.h.
summary: from the prompt "we hosted a party for our friends last night and somehow we ended up making out and now it’s the next morning and we’re cleaning the apartment together and I can’t stop thinking about it" wc: 1.5k warnings: lots of overthinking and a flustered steve, but that's about it lol a/n: originally requested as a blurb that i got carried away with; i hope you like it!! sorry for the stupid title LOL
my masterlist
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It’s unusually quiet in your apartment for a weekend morning where both you and Steve are home. The radio is on, playing the current pop hits, but it’s not enough to distract you from the distinct lack of conversation. If you wanted, you could probably chalk it up to the headache you were experiencing from your drinking last night, and assume Steve was feeling the same. And you tried, you really did. But you knew that wasn’t the cause of the silence filling your apartment. 
Last night, you and Steve had had all of your friends over to unwind and hang out. There’d been lots of alcohol, and you’d ended up drinking way more than you’d planned to. Your drunk decisions were never your best ones, but you’d really outdone yourself last night. The stupid decision had almost been forgotten until you rolled over in bed to find Steve next to you, his perfect lips parted as he slept soundly. It wasn’t exactly abnormal to wake up next to him, especially after a night of drinking, but nothing had ever happened between the two of you. Until last night. 
You hadn’t done anything more than kiss — albeit quite… passionately — but Steve's one of your best friends, as well as your roommate, and a drunken kiss had the potential to ruin everything. Especially since there’d always been an unspoken tension between you, at least from your perspective, but you’d resolved to ignore it in hopes of it disappearing. Clearly, it hadn’t quite worked. 
After silently panicking, you’d scrambled out of bed and escaped to the kitchen, busying yourself with making breakfast. Steve had stumbled out of your room into the kitchen not long later, but was still half asleep as he poured himself a bowl of cereal, slumped over the counter as he shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth. Maybe he didn’t remember. 
At the time, you’d told yourself it was probably good if he didn’t remember. But now, as you silently clean the apartment together, you’re not so sure. Would it hurt more if he really didn’t remember the kiss, or if he was just pretending he didn’t? Sure, you’d both been drunk, but it would be a lie to say you’d never considered the possibility, so the thought of it meaning nothing to Steve nearly eats you alive. 
Empty beer bottles and cans clink loudly as you toss them into the garbage bag you’re holding. It’s louder than it needs to be, but you’re trying to focus on cleaning, on the noise; anything to keep your mind from wandering back to Steve and the kiss you’d shared. Because the images of your kiss flash in your mind, of Steve’s hands on your waist, soft lips pressing to yours, do nothing to stop your racing heart. 
You can’t believe he hasn’t said anything, but then again, neither have you. Just the thought of mentioning it makes you flustered, and you’re not sure you can face him without feeling like you’re going to burst into flames, but you have to go back into the kitchen where Steve is washing the dishes that had been left out overnight. 
Steve is humming along to the song playing over the radio when you walk into the kitchen, and only glances up from the dishes for a moment to flash you his perfect smile when the sound of the bag of garbage you’re carrying betrays you. You manage to return the smile — though you’re sure it’s awkward and unconvincing — as you make your way across the kitchen to dump the bag into the bin. He’s still not saying anything, and you’re still not sure how to feel about all of it. Realistically, you know you should really talk about everything that had happened, even if it was just a one-time, drunken make out. You just can’t quite get yourself to do it, though, and chicken out of saying anything as you dart out of the kitchen and up to your room. 
Sitting on the edge of your bed, you grab your phone and dial a number you know by heart. Robin knows both you and Steve better than anyone else; surely she’ll know what you should do. The phone rings once, twice, three times, and finally she picks up with a grumbled, “Hello?”
“Hey, Robs. Did I wake you?” It’s nearly noon, but Robin’s night had been similar to yours — without all of the kissing, of course. 
She huffs, and you can hear rustling from the other side of the phone as she shifts in bed, “Yeah, but it’s fine; need to get up anyway before my mom starts telling me about the dangers of drinking again. Like I drink all the time or something. Anyway, what’s up?”
Suddenly the butterflies are back, fluttering in your chest, as you rub your free hand over your face, “Do you, uh… Do you remember anything that happened last night? I dunno how drunk you were but—“
Robin is quick to cut you off, “If you’re talking about you and Steve sucking face, yeah I remember that.”
You groan in embarrassment, face and chest filling with heat as you whine into the phone, “Jesus, Robin. Do you have to say it like that?”
“Well! That’s what it was! What would you call it?”
“I dunno, anything but that! But that’s not— I called ‘cause… We haven’t talked about it. I don’t know if he even remembers or—“
A scoff cuts you off again and you can practically hear Robin’s eye roll, “Holy shit, can you just talk to each other please? I’m too hungover for this and Steve’s already called me about it.”
“He did?”
“Yeah, at like four in the morning. It was freaking ridiculous. He said he’d talk to you. I think. I don’t really know, I was half asleep.”
Something like hope stirs in you as you thank Robin and apologize again for waking her up before you hang up. A call in the middle of the night could be good or bad, but Robin hadn’t made it sound like it was anything bad. She’s known about your crush on Steve, going so far as to insist that the feeling is almost definitely mutual, but you’ve never had the courage to make a move. You know it’s now or never. 
Opening your door, you run straight into Steve’s chest with a muffled ‘oof!’ His hand is raised, as if he had just been about to knock, but his arm quickly curls around your shoulders to steady you, “Whoa! Sorry, I didn’t mean to—“
Your own apologies spill out at the same time, “Shit, sorry! I didn’t know you—“
Nervous laughter erupts from both of you, easing some of the awkward silence as Steve takes a step back. He looks a little nervous, with pink cheeks and wide eyes, which is strange for Steve. Lifting a hand, he scratches the nape of his neck for a moment and then murmurs, “I was just— thought we should talk and…” He trails off, eyes darting to the floor and back up to you before he blurts out, “I remember.”
“You do?” is all you can think to ask, sounding much more eager than you want to.
“Y-yeah. I do.”
“Oh,” you breathe out, a ragged sound as your breath catches in your throat. “Is that… is that a good thing?”
Steve laughs, a sound of adoration, as his cheeks flush again, a dark pink underneath his pretty freckles and moles. He lifts a hand, fingers tugging at his messy hair, tongue darting out to lick his lips, “Um. I mean, I think so. If you also think it’s good. Unless you regret it, and in that case, we can totally forget it happened and—“
“Steve,” you say his name quickly to cut him off, the corners of your lips pulling up slightly as he stops mid-sentence. 
“Yeah?”
You take a deep breath, and then just go for it, “I don’t regret it at all. I really… I really like you, Steve.”
“Oh. That’s— yeah, that’s good. Can I kiss you again? Since we’re, ya know, less drunk.” 
When you nod, a little dumbstruck, Steve wastes no time in cradling your face in his hands as he steps in closer to you. His hands are warm against your skin, thumbs brushing out over your cheekbones as he gently tilts your face up towards his. His eyes flick to yours for a second, and then he’s kissing you. 
This kiss is more delicate than the one you’d shared last night, though his lips are just as soft as you remember. He tastes less like alcohol this time, thankfully, and more like the fruity pebbles he’d eaten for breakfast, and maybe a hint of his minty toothpaste. You can’t help but melt into him, fingers curling into the worn fabric of his t-shirt to keep him close. 
You accidentally let out a small noise of disappointment when Steve finally pulls back that makes him laugh, the tip of his nose nudging into the softness of your cheek. His lips brush over the corner of yours once more as he murmurs, “Thank god you let me kiss you again. I’d never have survived off of what I remember from last night.” 
“You can kiss me any time you want, Steve.”
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thanks for reading ilysm <3333
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haddonfieldwhore · 7 months
Text
ghosthunting - rhea & dom
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rhea ripley x gn!reader x dominik mysterio
word count: 4k words
warnings: haunted jail, language, can be read as platonic if you want <3
despite the hot florida weather, your hands trembled slightly as the cameras started rolling. shotzi and scarlett had invited you, dominik, and rhea to be the guests on the first episode of their new ghost hunting series, Chamber of Horrors. you were excited, but also nervous about the idea of exploring a haunted jail, so you were relieved to have two of your closest companions by your side.
“hey guys,” scarlett introduced the three of you as you stood next to her and shotzi. you all greeted your two hosts, and they asked if any of you had encountered any ghosts before. dominik and rhea each shared a story, but you didn’t have one. you weren’t a sceptic, you just hadn’t experienced anything you would consider paranormal activity.
the five of you followed the tour guide inside, a few camera people following close behind as you stopped in the first room, the sheriffs office.
“you okay?” rhea whispered to you, and you nodded, smiling as you felt dom standing behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“yeah i’m good,” you assured her, as scarlett and shotzi set up their equipment in the centre of the room. they had a few rem pods, which would light up different colours and beep if something got close or touched them, and scarlett had a spiritbox on her phone that allowed spirits to communicate using white noise and radio channels.
“how many spirits are in the room right now?” she asked, and a voice on the radio replied ‘eight’. rhea scratched her shoulder nervously, and leaned into dom’s side, as scarlett and her both repeated the number out loud. another device they had could supposedly answer yes or no questions, and it lit up green, confirming the number.
“is that how many spirits were hung here?” scarlett asked, and over the radio came a short ‘yep.’ dominik laughed nervously, and you felt rhea grab your arm and pull you behind dom, sandwiching you between the two of them, not that you were complaining. it was comforting to have them in either side of you.
“oh man,” dom said, crossing his arms in front of him.
“i know it’s weird right?” scarlet laughed, and you admired how she didn’t seem scared at all.
“i don’t my brains, shot. it’s mush,” dom said, looking at you and rhea. “i’ve never experienced anything like… this is above my pay grade. i don’t know what’s going on.” he scratched the side of his head, trying to find the right words to explain how he was feeling.
“i thought we were wrestlers,” rhea joked, and you all laughed, and you mentally thanked her for being able to lighten the mood.
“yeah, let’s get out of here, i’d much rather take a power bomb right now” you played along, and rhea pretended like she was gonna walk out, grabbing your hand a dragging you a few steps towards the door.
“my eyes keep getting randomly like.. teary,” dom said, rubbing his eyes.
“yeah i keep looking around, thinking i’m seeing shit,” rhea said, glancing around the room, her hand still holding yours. scarlett and shotzi were still using the necrophone app to ask questions, when a chill ran up your spine at the words ‘come here’ on the radio.
“you heard that?” scarlett asked, and you all nodded. “are there any child spirits here?” all of the rem pods went off, lighting up and beeping at the same time, and your chest tightened. you wrapped your arms around dominiks waist, hiding your face in his shoulder as rhea, still holding your hand, was pulled towards you by your actions, and she hugged you from behind.
“i feel very warm,” dom noted, and rhea nodded.
“yeah idk if i’m sweating because i’m nervous, or because this one won’t let go of me,” rhea teased you affectionately.
“sorry,” you mumbled, but she wouldn’t let you out of her grip.
“do you guys want to ask it a question?” scarlett asked the three of you, and you all frowned, staying silent. “you’re good?” she laughed, and it got another laugh out of the room.
“yeah, this is a lot. i heard leave,” dominik suggested, and scarlett and shotzi laughed harder as he pointed to the door, but shotzi agreed that she had heard it too.
“do you want us to leave?” she asked, and the green light lit up meaning yes. you took a deep breath, and dominik made a cross sign over his chest.
“let’s go into another room,” scarlett suggested. “there’s a cold breeze behind me,” she added, and a laugh came over the radio, making shotzi giggle.
“it’s laughing at you.”
the rem pod lit up again, and you all decided it was time to move to a different room, scarlett suggesting the general population area next. as her and shotzi moved the ghost equipment, the camera man stayed with you, dominik, and rhea for a short interview.
“yeah, i mean i’m terrified. but you know… i… someone’s gotta do it,” dominik laughed nervously. “and why not, the double champs and the future, nxt champion?” he said, pointing to the three of you, and referencing your future title opportunity that was coming up.
“exactly,” rhea agreed.
•••
you stood behind dom and rhea next to where the equipment was set up outside one of the jail cells. scarlett held the necrophone in her hand, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you swore you heard a voice behind you.
“did you guys hear that?” you said, and dominik turned to look at you.
“freezing,” scarlett echoed what the voice on the radio say, and rhea wrapped her arms around herself.
“yeah, i just got the shivers,” she said to scarlett.
“what is it?” dom asked you, the only one who had heard you, and it drew the attention of the others. your throat went dry and you swallowed hard.
“i don’t know, i thought i heard someone say something behind me a second ago, just before it got cold in here,” you explained. dominiks arm snakes around your back, pulling you into his side. “you guys didn’t hear anything?” everyone shook their heads, rhea mumbling a soft ‘no’.
“would any spirits like to communicate with us?” scarlett asked, and the device lit up green for yes again. “yes, the spirits would like to communicate with us!” she smiled, and both her and shotzi raised their hands in the air. you admired the positive attitude they managed to keep throughout the night.
“my eyes just got teary again,” dominik said, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his t-shirt.
“are you okay?” rhea asked, placing a hand on his back.
“yeah i’m good,” he laughed.
“is it bringing back memories?” shotzi asked him, referencing the time he had spent in ‘jail’.
“nah, this is just.. different,” he said, and rhea put her arm over his shoulder as he stood between you and her, dom still holding you close to his side. all of the sudden, rhea flinched, scratching her shoulder next to where her mic was clipped to her shirt.
“you okay?” dom asked softly, and rhea laughed nervously.
“thought i felt something touch me,” she replied.
“why do you choose to stay here?” scarlett asked, and over the radio the voice spoke ‘lucifer’.
“lucifer!” shotzi repeated, everyone laughing as dom turned around and pretended to walk out, raising his hands up in surrender.
“there he goes,” the cameraman said, as you pulled dom back to the group.
“you’re not allowed to scare us,” shotzi reprimanded the spirits. “we know you’re not lucifer; you can’t trick us.” rhea hid her face in her hand as she curled into dom’s side, you clinging to his other arm. scarlett was explaining how the necrophone worked to the camera when dom spoke up.
“so, quick question - not to be rude,” scarlet nodded telling him to continue. “so h..how do we know it’s not like a south park episode and there’s like a big dude behind the screen, just like..putting noises or something?” and shotzi laughed.
“well i mean, it is answering our questions pretty good.. so.”
“we’ve gotten very clear photos of faces, where there shouldn’t be anything. we’ve gotten like - figures on our sls camera,” scarlett explained. suddenly you heard another noise behind you, and dom and rhea must have heard it too because they also turned around to look for the source of the sound. your knuckles had turned white from how tightly you were holding onto dominiks hand, and could feel his finger tips digging into your side.
scarlett noticed that the three of you were distracted, and dom and rhea pointed in the direction the noise had come from, and the tour guide had heard it too.
“we heard something,” dom and rhea said at the same time, and the tour guide described it as a growl.
“i don’t know what the hell it was,” you said, your voice trembling.
“you guys are not allowed to touch dom, rhea, or y/n,” scarlett scolded the ghosts. “you’re not allowed to touch any of us.”
“he asked how we do we know there’s not someone behind the scenes, i swear to you i heard a growl and it came right over there,” the tour guide said, pointing behind you. “you all heard it right?”
“yeah, yeah, yeah,” dom repeated nervously, and you and rhea agreed.
“what was that growl? who was growling?” shotzi asked.
“what that the creeper growling?” scarlett asked, getting another laugh out of everyone.
“i don’t know if it was a growl or - it was just like a ‘rahhh’,” dom scratched the back of his neck as he imitated the noise you had heard.
“you heard another noise?” the tour guide asked.
“no no no, when we all heard it just now,” he clarified, and rhea stole you from his grip as she nervously fiddled with her necklaces.
“i just saw something over there,” scarlett said, pointing at where the noise had come from. “there was something over there, what was that? i saw a light go through.”
your were starting to feel a little overwhelmed, and you turned around, closing your eyes and burying your face in the crook of rheas neck, her arms wrapping around you. you instantly felt safer as dominik noticed the two of you, and hugged you both in his arms, gently stroking the back of your head with his tattooed hand.
“are you okay?” rhea asked, and you nodded against her collarbone.
“i just need a minute,” you admitted, and dom squeezed you and rhea tighter.
“you’re okay, we’ve got you,” he mumbled. when you felt like you could breathe again, you mumbled a soft ‘ok’, and they let you out of the cage they had made around you with their arms, but they each still held one of your hands.
•••
shotzi and scarlett were now sitting in one of the cells, and dom and rhea stood outside it. you had taken a step back for a moment, just looking over the shoulder of the camera man. dom seemed nervous as you heard scarlett say to shotzi that there was definitely a ghost in the cell with her, and the offered her hand for him to hold, which he took. suddenly shotzi yelled out in shock, and stood up off the bed.
“what! what just happened. are you okay?” scarlett asked, concerned. “wait wait, are you okay? what happened?”
“i’m fine, i just felt the bed shake,” shotzi said, laughing, and dom and rhea clung to each other.
“oh god.”
“i’m not going over,” rhea laughed, content with staying far away from the cell.
“can you not scare my friend, please?” scarlett asked.
“no, it’s okay, i allow you to touch me,” shotzi offered.
“why would you say you want it to touch you?” scar laughed.
“but respectfully! like don’t hurt me but a little,” she tapped her shoulder to demonstrate.
“i would not like to be touched,” dominik said.
“please do not touch me,” rhea agreed.
“i feel like i’m scared, but i just don’t know what going on, like-“ dom was interrupted by scarlett yelling to him and rhea.
“do you want to come in here with us?”
“nah, i’m cool,” he smiled, and the girls laughed.
the laughter had lightened the mood once again, and you had calmed down, deciding that you were ready to get back on camera. you snuck behind the camera man to head back over to dom and rhea when suddenly, you felt a stinging sensation on for back. dominik smiled as you approached him, but his face dropped when he saw the concerned look on your face.
“what’s wrong, did you hear something?” rhea asked.
“no, i thought i felt something on my back though,” you replied, trying to feel for the spot with your hand.
“want me to look?” dom asked, and you nodded, turning around so he could see if he could see anything. his hands were warm on your skin despite the chill in the room, and he rolled your shirt up slightly, and you heard rhea gasp.
“what? what is it?” you panicked, and went to turn around, but felt her manicured hand touch your back.
“wait wait wait. let me take a picture so i can show you,” she said.
“what the fuck, guys,” dom muttered, and your heart pounded in your chest. dom let you turn around, but his hands remained on your hips as rhea showed you her phone, on it a photo of a scratch on your back, about four inches long.
“what…. how did i get that?” you stuttered, and scarlett and shotzi noticed the commotion and came over.
“what happened?” scarlet asked, concern in her voice as she placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. your eyes were wide and you couldn’t form words as rhea showed her and shotzi the picture.
“oh my god, how did that happen? guys?” shotzi asked, covering her mouth in shock.
“i don’t know, maybe i bumped into something,” you mumbled, trying to rationalize; it was possible you could have, but wouldn’t you remember it?
“are you okay to keep going?” scarlett asked, and despite the sinking feeling in your stomach, you nodded. dom and rhea clung to either side of you again, and you were grateful that they refused to let go of you. scarlett and shotzi had gone back into the cell, and called for the three of you left outside to come join them.
“come sit with us,” dominik said, and him and rhea pulled you to sit just outside the cell door with them; none of you interested in actually going inside.
“come in, you guys. we’ll scooch over, there’s room for everybody,” shotzi invited.
“i’m good here,” dom said, and the two in the cell continued asking the spirits questions as you rested your head on dom’s shoulder, rhea doing the same to yours.
shotzi offered her hand for the spirit to touch as she and scarlett were talking about the boo bear, another device of theirs that was going off.
“are you sure you’re okay?” rhea whispered next to your ear.
“i think so,” you replied. “or i’m just blocking it out.”
“am i on video?” shotzi repeated what the spirit had said. “yes you are, and we want to tell your story,” she explained, before the radio said dom’s name. you felt his body tense against you, and you and rhea both held onto his hand.
scarlett suggested going to visit the isolation wing, and once again as they went to set up the equipment, the camera man interviewed you, dom, and rhea.
“i’ve never done anything like this, so this is my first time experiencing..like… this sort of like.. energy wise?” dom tried to explain.
“yeah, especially going into it and expecting something,” rhea added.
“yeah like, knowing… there’s just a lot of beeping going on,” dom said, gesturing with his hands. “i don’t know - we heard our names, and then y/n got that weird scratch…”
“can we show the camera?” rhea asked, and you nodded, turning around to let her lift up the bottom of your shirt.
“it got cold before too - and hot,” rhea continued recounting everything that had happened so far.
“yeah i’ve been going through like a mixture, but again, that’s probably just me cause i’m nervous, and scared. so like my body’s probably just fluctuating with all sorts of temperatures,” he raised his hand up and down to demonstrate. “but i don’t know, this is all very interesting, but fun in a very new way.”
“yes,” rhea agreed.
“except the maybe getting scratched by a ghost part,” you added, and they both laughed.
“except for that,” dom clarified.
•••
“to the wardens room!” shotzi exclained as dom went first into your next location, a quick pit stop on the way to isolation. he jumped slightly, getting scared by a coat rack as he turned on the light. you and rhea laughed at him as he held his chest, taking a deep breath as you all walked into the room.
“do you feel the heaviness in here?” scarlett asked.
“wow, it is - woooah. oh my goodness,” shotzi agreed, and you could also feel a weight in the air.
“it is very heavy,” dom said, and rhea expressed how warm it was in the room.
“it’s hard to breathe in here,” shotzi added.
“yeah a bit actually,” rhea replied, and you nodded.
the rem pod in the ground started freaking out, and scarlett asked who was touching it, when a voice over the radio clearly said ‘find my body’.
“where are you?” rhea asked.
“don’t,” dom whispered to rhea, either not wanting her to interact with the ghosts, or not wanting to go looking for a body. she smiled, pulling him close to her as scarlett asked more questions, before she held her forehead, complaining of head pressure.
“yeah my face is tingling,” rhea said, holding either side of her face in her hands.
“my head hurts too,” you agreed.
“if you can touch one of the rem pods we’ll leave this room, scar offered, and a voice on the radio replied with ‘want us to leave’. the rem pod lit up, and scarlett and rhea both mentioned how it had gotten even hotter in the room.
“yeah my foreheads a little hot,” dom replied, rhea once again resting her head in his shoulder.
“i just got cold; it’s like a total fluctuation,” the camera man added.
“i think we should try downstairs,” scarlett suggested, and you all moved to solitary confinement. you tugged on dominiks hand and gave him a look that thankfully he understood.
“we’ll let you guys handle business, ya know?” dom said, getting the message that you had had enough.
a brief stop in the women’s wing had left you and dom standing outside a cell while rhea sat inside.
“are you sitting next to rhea?” shotzi asked.
“are you on the bed?” rhea asked when no reply came. a voice said ‘move’, and rhea asked if it wanted her to get if the bed, to which it replied ‘do’. rhea raised her hands in surrender and you leaned against the wall, letting your eyes close as your head fell back. as much as you had surprisingly enjoyed yourself, you were just about at your limit for being scared for one night.
“fam, ima listen to you,” rhea clapped her hands together as she stood up, more than happy to get out of the cell. “you call the shots; it’s your bed, bruh.”
scarlett complained of a smell that the tour guide explained was sulphur, and shotzi mentioned that sulphur meant demons.
“yeah, i’m gonna go outside,” dom joked, getting another laugh out of everyone. “yeah that’s uh... that’s where your boy dom.. dirty dom-“ he stopped when you, him, and rhea all heard a noise coming from a cell down the hall behind you.
“i heard that too,” she assured him, and you nodded.
“right?” dom asked. “is there anyone over there?” he asked, pointing the the direction the sound had come from.
“no, we’re all in here,” the tour guide replied.
“i just heard footsteps,” dom said, as him and rhea tried to see if anything was over there.
“dom has crazy hearing,” shotzi commented, before over the radio a voice said ‘she’s coming’.
you stepped away again, dominik following after you as you stepped out of view of the camera.
“are you okay?” he asked, and you nodded. “you can tell me the truth.”
“it’s just a lot,” you admitted, and pulled you into a hug. rhea looked over, concern in her face, but dom gave her a thumbs up to let her know you were alright.
“we’re leaving soon. i think i’ve had enough for one night, too,” he said kissing the side of your head before the two of you walked back over to rhea. she held your face gently in her hands and you nodded to let her know you were ok.
you were pretty checked out by this point, blocking most of the sounds out as scarlett’s phone starting acting wierd, and her and shotzi talked to a spirit in the solitary confinement cell.
“we can watch a movie or something fun when we get back to the hotel, okay?” rhea suggested, holding your hand once again. you nodded, still not completely present. “maybe paranormal activity?” she joked, and you focused on her again, slapping her shoulder lightly as her and dom laughed. “kidding!” she pleaded. she got a wierd look on her face, and dom stood in front of her.
“what is it?” he asked.
“i had like -“ she gestured to her neck with her hand. “my throat got like.. clogged. and then it got really warm and then like rushed to my head. it freaked me out,” she explained.
the five of you decided that that was enough ghost hunting, and shotzi and scarlet gathered their equipment while you stood with dom and rhea as they filmed an outro.
“yeah i’m ready to get out,” dom said, and rhea laughed nervously, muttering a soft ‘please’.
“you wanna use that big light of yours and guide us out of here? good sir, please and thank you?”
you filmed another short outro all together outside the jail, before the three of you said goodnight to shotzi and scarlett and the crew, thanking them for having you on their show. an uber had arrived to take you back to your hotel, and the three of you sat in the backseat, you in the middle as you curled into dominiks side, happy to have made it out in one piece, and ready to go to bed.
•••
rhea shook you awake as you pulled up the hotel, and you rubbed your eyes as you sat up. dominik had also fallen asleep, his head resting on top of yours, and he sat up at the feeling of you moving.
“we’re here, sleepyheads,” rhea laughed, and you all got out and headed up to the hotel room you were sharing. you kicked off your shoes, and got changed into your pyjamas, before immediately getting under the covers, pulling them high up under your chin. rhea laughed at you, before she sat down on the other bed.
“guys?” you said softly.
“yeah?” dom replied, taking off his t-shirt, leaving him in a black tank top, his gold chain reflecting in the low light from the lamp on the nightstand.
“can you come here?” you asked, and they both laughed, rhea jumping on top of you and pulling you into her arms. dominik laid on the other side of you, and you became trapped between them.
“if i have nightmares tonight i’m blaming shotzi and scarlett,” you said.
“don’t worry. we’ll protect you,” rhea promised, getting under the blankets, her legs tangling with yours and dominiks, becoming a mess of limbs.
“goodnight you guys,” dom mumbled, already half asleep as he kissed the side of your head, reaching out and entwining his hand with rheas.
“goodnight,” you murmured, before drifting off to sleep, safe in the arms of your two favourite people.
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jupitercomet · 1 year
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The Trial Run: Chapter Five
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summary - Bradley Bradshaw has one goal as he finishes his junior year of college - get Makayla Cunningham to be his girlfriend. Because Makayla Cunningham is exactly the kind of girl a guy like Bradley Bradshaw deserves. There's just one problem, Makayla is adamant that Bradley is a bad boyfriend. If he wants to win her over, Bradley has to prove he can keep a girlfriend of Makayla's choosing for the entire summer. It's just his luck that girl is his little sister's best friend.
warnings - college au, frat boy Bradley (Bradley’s frat is completely fictional and in no way meant to reference any existing frats), language, talks of parental death, my very limited knowledge of the military, sorry she’s a little short she’s more of a necessary background info chapter, Bradley is 22 and reader is 19, no use of y/n, Bradley is 6'6" because I said so
this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact
word count - 4.3k
the trial run masterlist
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When you get to the house, Carole Bradshaw is already waiting for you outside, a worn, flower printed apron tied tightly around her waist. Carole has always been something of a second mother to you. All the summers you spent with the Bradshaws resulted in the woman becoming closer to you than most of your extended family. 
She was the woman who slathered sunscreen on your shoulders and showed you butterflies that had landed in her garden. She smelled like watermelon slices, and melting popsicles, and those old songs that play on the radio that you don’t entirely know the words to but want to dance along with anyway. Since you were five years old, you knew how special of a woman Carole Bradshaw was.
Nick Bradshaw had been like that too—though he insisted that everyone call him Goose. He had a laugh that lit up a whole room and shook it too. He smelled like citrus, and fresh linen, and the ground after it rained. He’d sneak you and Giselle into his garage when your mothers weren’t looking—even though they always were—and show you all the parts and gadgets he’d been tinkering with. You knew that he was a pilot in the Navy, and you didn’t know much besides that then the fact that the Bradshaws always got real sad when he was gone. But, when he was home, he fixed up old cars and dangled his kids by their ankles with jovial threats of dropping them in the pool as they squealed with laughter.
You and Giselle had just been nearing the end of eighth grade when he died. It had been some naval accident, something about a plane malfunction. You knew better than to ask for details and honestly it was too painful to think about anyway. It was quiet in the Bradshaw house for a while, Carole wasn’t quite the same—like those old songs that play on the radio that you just turn off. Giselle did her best to act like she was okay, but, for the rest of the year, you both waited outside for Carole to pull the car out onto the driveway every morning because Giselle just couldn’t step foot in the garage. 
It was Bradley who worried you the most though. With Carole exhausting everything in her just planning the funeral, Bradley was picking up all the leftovers. You never once heard him cry, not even at night when the only person who was awake in the house was you. Unlike Giselle, he spent most of his time in the garage—doing what, you didn’t know. He stopped inviting friends over and threw himself into football. You were only 13, you didn’t know what to do for him, unable to do anything but just watch from the sidelines and hope he’d be okay.
At the end of the school year, your middle school was hosting a continuation ceremony for all the eighth graders to celebrate their moving on to high school. What was once an exciting occasion was sullied by the fact you and all your classmates were expected to do your continuation walk accompanied by your parents. Giselle cried to you one night that she didn’t want to go, that she didn’t want to walk across that stage with just her mom and have everyone know that her dad wasn’t there anymore. You were only 13, so you hugged her tight and stayed that way until you both fell asleep.
And on the day of your continuation, 15 year old Bradley put on the suit he wore to homecoming and walked his little sister and his mom across the stage. And even though he always said he hated it, ever since he was nine, he let Giselle hold his hand the entire time. It was things like that that made you fall in love with him. 
When the cab slows to a stop and Carole’s outside waiting, you can’t help but fling the car door open and run to her. In the back of your mind, you know Javy, Jake, and Bradley are all watching you, but this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing her—even longer than that one time you and Giselle went away to summer camp—and you want to get your hug in before Giselle arrives and you’ll feel obligated to give up Carole’s attention.
“Hi, honey! I missed you, sweet girl,” Carole laughs happily as you throw yourself into her arms. She smells of Aqua Net hairspray, her curls swept up in fluffy swoops that fall just by her ears.
You squeeze her tighter, vaguely registering the sound of taxi doors shutting. “Hi, Carole. I missed you too.”
There’s the crunch of gravel behind you and, reluctantly, you let go of the older woman. Taking a couple steps back, you make room for Javy and Jake to politely wave to her. Bradley steps forward, leaving his rolling suitcase on the pebbled ground to hug his mom and press a kiss to her cheek.
“Hey, ma.”
Carole raises her eyebrows in amusement, locking eyes with you to wiggle them when Bradley drops his arms from her. “That’s all I get? ‘Hey, ma’?” She drops her voice an octave to imitate her son and you bite your lip to hide your smile. Jake and Javy don’t even give Bradley the courtesy of that, both smirking widely. “My little Roos flies from the nest and forgets all about his mama, huh?”
Bradley gives Carole a halfhearted glare, though the tips of his ears are distinctly pink. “Ma.”
“Alright, alright, I’m teasin’. Where’s Chicken?” Carole hits her son’s bicep good-naturedly as he scans the empty road in front of the quaint San Diego home.
Though you aren’t sure of the exact origins of the name “Goose”, you know that it led to the birth of the nicknames “Rooster” and “Chicken”. No one other than Carole ever called Bradley and Giselle that anymore—you called Giselle “Chicken” once as children and she proceeded to call you “Donkey” until you promised to never do it again. You were sure at one point Goose must have given you a bird related nickname too, but it never stuck and you’re too old to remember it now.
“They’re still on their way, Mrs. Bradshaw,” Jake provides politely. 
Carole waves the blond off with an amused scoff. “Please. Call me Carole, honey. The only people who call me ‘Mrs. Bradshaw’ work at my bank. And I’m not too fond of ‘em.”
Jake nods with a smile—though, distinctly, does not open his mouth again to call her Carole. From next to her, Bradley’s taking in the outside of the house and you watch as his eyes land on the opened garage.
“Where’s Admiral Simpson?” He asks almost wearily, keeping his eyes trained on the one Mazda parked inside the smaller building.
“You know you can call him Beau, honey,” Carole chides though Bradley doesn’t even react and she wets her lips. “And he got called out for something. It’ll be a couple weeks ‘till he’s back.”
Bradley nods distractedly and you almost reach for his hand before you stop yourself. You’re not sure if Carole knows about you and Bradley yet. Or if Bradley even wants her to know. You can’t imagine she’d exactly be angry about it, especially since Giselle wasn’t, but there’s something so clearly going on with Bradley that you don’t want to put any more stress on him. Instead you meet his eye with a small smile when he glances at you.
“Well,” Carole wipes her hands on her apron suddenly, directing her attention to Jake and Javy. “Why don’t I show you two young gentlemen where you’ll be sleepin’?”
It goes without saying that both you and Bradley know exactly where you’ll be staying without needing direction, but what does not go without saying is the sneaky wink Carole shoots in your direction as she leads the two other boys inside. When they disappear into the house, you pivot quickly on your heel to look at Bradley, who’s already picking up your luggage and his.
“She knows?”
Bradley straightens up slowly, a confused look on his face. “Knows what?”
“That we’re— She knows about us?” You feel mildly embarrassed that you seem so thrown while Bradley looks like he couldn’t be bothered in the slightest. But this is your first real relationship, and it’s not exactly the most conventional, you just wish you had more of a sense of what to do.
“Yeah?” Bradley looks at you weirdly, starting to make his way into the house and you follow after him. “Pretty sure Giselle told her.”
“And… Is that okay?” You glance at him hesitantly, nerves bubbling up in your stomach and you wrap your arms around yourself as if to try and pop them.
Bradley stops just short of Giselle’s room, setting your luggage against the door frame. “It’s fine. She was real happy ‘bout it.” He doesn’t sound that happy though and you flinch into yourself at his distant tone. “Look, I’m, uh, kinda tired, so if you don’t need anything—”
“No, of course, I’m totally good,” you wave off Bradley’s explanation, mustering up your best smile. “I can just wait for Giselle to get back, don’t worry about me. Go sleep.”
Bradley just nods as you smile again. “Cool.”
Unable to keep eye contact with him, you dip down to get a handle on your luggage. You have every intention of walking it into Giselle’s room, unpacking a bit as you wait for her taxi to arrive. But you feel like you should do more for Bradley. In the taxi you helped him—or at least you think you did, you can remember that he seemed to be feeling better before you fell asleep. You look up to say something more, but close your mouth swiftly.
Bradley’s already begun walking away.
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Crickets chirp from the cracked window of Bradley’s bedroom, the gentle breeze swaying the curtains as he stares up at his ceiling. The alarm clock on his bedside table reads 2:42 am and Bradley runs a tired hand over his face with a heavy sigh. He’s thankful that he doesn’t have to room with anyone—he knows he probably should have, but he and Jake roomed together back when they were freshman in Sigma Chi and Bradley is not doing that again.
Everyone’s probably asleep by now. You’re just a little farther down the hall in his sister’s room, sharing the room with her and Natasha. He knows the rest of them are littered around the guest rooms. This house is huge, bigger than the house he grew up in. Bradley only spent two years in it before he was off to college so Giselle is more used to it than he is—you probably are too, now that he thinks about it. There wasn’t anything wrong with their old house and maybe he doesn’t actually hate this house, but he hates what it stands for. He hates what it means.
Unable to lie still anymore, Bradley gets up from bed, creeping out quietly into the hall. He holds his breath until he passes all the bedrooms, only releasing it when the door to the garage is in view. As Bradley expects, the garage is unrecognizable. It’s not his dad’s garage, not his garage. There’s no framed, old school posters hung on the walls. No old convertible needing to be fixed up or car parts littered about. It’s organized, everything put away into neat boxes or hung up on a wall. It’s clean, even the concrete floors look like they’ve been swept and mopped.
It’s Admiral Beau Simpson’s garage.
Bradley never thought that his mom would get remarried after his dad died, but one day he was in his childhood home and the next he was being whisked away to an expensive neighborhood by a man he was supposed to call “step-dad”. Bradley only lived with Beau Simpson for two years before he snatched his things and practically bolted to college.
Those two years were some of the worst of his life. Beau Simpson tried to step up as a father right off the bat—a role that Bradley did not need filled—belittling him about everything from his SAT score to his plans of playing football in college as if he had any right. He pushed Bradley towards the Navy too, but, there, Carole firmly put her foot down.
To be honest, Bradley doesn’t think his mom’s even happy with Beau anymore. He likes to think that at one point she was, if only for her sake. But part of him resented the fact too. Bradley loves his mom, but he’s also kind of mad at her for ever trapping him with a man like Beau Simpson. Because that’s what they are. Trapped.
After his dad died in active duty, the Bradshaws’ primary source of income was the money the Navy gave Carole for being Nick Bradshaw’s spouse. And it was enough for them to live on, Carol hardly had to work and they lived comfortably enough as a family of three.
Beau Simpson came at a time in their life when Carole was just starting to feel like it was time to move on from her first husband, but not quite when she was actually ready to. It was a whirlwind kind of romance and Bradley was genuinely surprised when his mom informed him that they were getting married after just eight months of knowing each other. There was a wedding and they all moved into a nice, big house and Bradley got an authoritative figure in his life that he didn’t ask for.
A year into their marriage, Bradley could tell his mom was unhappy. She didn’t know Beau as well as she thought she did and it was hard for her to see her son and husband getting along so poorly. But Beau’s second source of income meant they weren’t getting money from the Navy anymore. If she and Beau divorced, there would be very little way for her to support him and Giselle. And with Bradley so close to college, it simply wasn’t an option.
Sometimes Bradley hates himself for being the reason his mom feels trapped in a marriage she doesn’t want. Beau’s nice enough to her—and Giselle too, it’s really only Bradley he takes issue with—but she isn’t happy and he knows that she could be if she didn’t feel so obligated to him. But instead, they’re both stuck with Admiral Beau Simpson and his shitty house and shitty garage.
Bradley sniffs, turning away from the garage as he’s no longer able to look at it. Making his way into the kitchen, he flips on the light to grab a glass of water. He’s far enough away from the bedrooms that he doesn’t have to worry about waking anyone and he pads to the fridge to fill his cup with filtered water.
“Bradley?”
Bradley turns around at the sound of your quiet voice to catch you rubbing at your eyes sleepily. He sets his water down on the counter.
“What are you doing up, sunshine?” He asks as you make your way over to him.
“Couldn’t sleep,” you mumble, still squinting as your eyes adjust to the light. “Thought I heard someone get up.”
Bradley reaches for his glass of water, holding it up for you as he takes a sip. “I was just getting water.”
You nod and, to Bradley surprise, reach down to his empty hand to wrap your hand around his middle and ring fingers. You don’t say anything, but shuffle closer until your face is snug against his chest. Bradley imagines that you wouldn’t be doing any of this if you weren’t so tired and the thought makes him smile a bit. Your eyes flutter closed, your grip loosening on Bradley’s fingers.
“I thought you said you couldn’t sleep, sunshine,” Bradley teases, a laugh catching in his throat.
“I couldn’t,” you whine. “And I really tried too.”
Bradley hums, setting his water down again so he can bring his hand to scratch the back of your head softly. He’s honestly a little surprised how easy it comes to him, Bradley’s certain no girl has ever thought he was the domestic type. But with you, he just seems to know what to do. “Why can’t you sleep?”
You scrunch your face like you’re frustrated you’re still conscious, squeezing a bit on Bradley’s fingers. “Was thinking about you,” you yawn quietly.
“Me?”
“You’re acting weird,” you tell him bluntly, eyes still closed. “I was worried about you.”
Bradley stills, though you seem too tired to notice. You were worried? About him? Bradley doesn’t think that you have any reason to be.
“You don’t have to tell me. But I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” you continue, unaware of the effect your sleepy words are currently having on him. 
Bradley wasn’t even entirely aware you knew that something was off with him. He always gets a little agitated when it comes to his step-dad, mentally preparing himself for another three months of snide comments and disapproving looks. And maybe he hasn’t exactly been the nicest to you because of that, so lost in his own head that he forgot about anything else.
“I’m okay, there’s nothing wrong,” Bradley assures you. He kind of expects you to be mad at him for not giving you attention. Because that’s why he’s not a good boyfriend, isn’t it? He’s so focused on himself sometimes, there’s not much else his brain has room to think about.
But in the course of him knowing you—the entire time he’s known you—Bradley can’t remember a single time you were actually mad at him. And it wasn’t for lack of trying, Bradley pissed Giselle off all the time. Maybe he has made you mad before, you just chose to shit talk him in the privacy of Giselle’s bedroom or something, but for some reason he can’t picture it. 
Your tired hum pulls him from his thoughts and Bradley suddenly realizes that the two of you are cuddled very intimately in his kitchen. “Okay.”
You’re on the verge of falling asleep, Bradley can tell, and he curls his two fingers around your hand to get your attention. “Go to bed, baby,” he murmurs, trying to coax you off of him so you don’t fall asleep standing up.
“No, no, I’m awake.” You tilt your head up to look at him with bleary eyes, clearly trying to fight off your exhaustion, and Bradley smiles softly.
“Baby—”
“No, I wanna talk to you,” you interrupt him with a pout. “I’m not even tired, I promise.”
Bradley snorts lightly at your obvious lie, but doesn’t argue with you. He drops his hand from your head, leading you to the living room with the other hand you’re still holding. Bradley’s sure the two of you have five minutes max before you start to fall asleep again, but you seem to be waking yourself up more, blinking rapidly and scrunching your face up to stay alert.
He plops down on the couch and watches as you take the cushion next to him. “You wanna talk to me?”
“Uh-huh, I like talking to you.” You curl your feet up on the couch so that they’re resting by your thighs.
This whole atmosphere reminds Bradley of the night you got too drunk and he took you back to your dorm. Like a defense is lowered and you’re able to speak to Bradley honestly. You’re getting more comfortable with him—Bradley can tell—but it’s nowhere near the level you are with Giselle and if he’s ever too forward, you still retreat back. But right now, there’s almost a level of security that isn’t always present between the two of you.
Bradley swallows, now wishing he’d grabbed his water from the kitchen counter. “Well, what do you want to talk about?”
“What’s your favorite animal?”
“What’s my favorite—” Bradley blinks. “What’s my favorite animal? I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what your favorite animal is? Or you don’t know if you have a favorite animal?” You question and Bradley furrows his brows.
“Both? I don’t know. I don’t have a favorite animal because I’m not six years old.” The words slip past Bradley’s lips before he can stop them—he chooses to blame his lack of sleep—and he balks. That’s probably not something he should say to his girlfriend. “Sorry, that’s not— What’s, um, what’s your favorite animal, I mean?”
If you’re offended by Bradley, you don’t voice it, looking at him almost softly as you shrug. “Sharks.”
“Sharks?” Bradley’s eyes widen in disbelief and he lets out an incredulous snort.
Your lips quirk up into a smile and you scoot towards him subconsciously. “Why’s that so surprising?” You rest your head on the back couch cushion and blink up at him. “What’d you think I was gonna say?”
“I dunno, like, a pony?”
“I do like ponies,” you agree.
“Well, yeah,” Bradley looks at you with a teasing smile. “I mean, you were obsessed with them when you were six. We had to stop taking you and Ellie to the zoo because you would spend the whole time looking at the ponies and then cry when it was time to leave.”
Bradley watches in confusion when the small smile falls from your face, your expression unreadable as you stare at him. All traces of sleep are wiped from your features and Bradley racks his brain to figure out what it was that he said that elicited this sudden reaction.
“You remember that?” You ask softly. 
Bradley wets his lips slowly, still unsure if he’s said something wrong or not, so he just nods hesitantly. Thankfully you take that as enough of an answer, shifting your head so you’re looking straight ahead at the turned off TV in front of you. It’s quiet for another minute, your gaze lost like you’re thinking about something else, before Bradley has to clear his throat.
“So, sharks…”
You blink a couple times to clear your head before you face him again with a small shrug. “I don’t really have a reason, I guess. I just like to look at them. I used to go to the aquarium a lot in high school to watch them, something about them just makes me feel calm.” Bradley watches as your chest rises and falls softly. “Sorry,” you say suddenly. “That probably didn’t make any sense.”
For the first time since he stepped foot in this house, Bradley doesn’t feel that every present feeling of his step-dad looming over him. He probably just doesn’t have the energy to after such a long day, and this whole conversation with you is quite confusing if he’s honest. Bradley feels like he has to use all his brain power just to understand what’s going on. You’re looking down at your fingers nervously, like you’ve just told him some grand secret when, in realty, you only explained your love of sharks. Neither of you say anything else as you pick at the polish on your nails.
“Well, my favorite animal is a pony.” The joke falls past Bradley’s lips and into the quiet night air before Bradley fully realizes he’s saying it.
You look up at him, lips parted in surprise, before suddenly a wide smile takes over your face. With a giggle, you shove his shoulder. “Shut up.”
“No, I’m serious,” Bradley grins. “You can ask anyone, I’m obsessed with ‘em. Like—fuck, what was her name?—Butterface?”
“Butterface? Her name was Butterscotch. Why would the zoo name a pony ‘Butterface’?” You have to bite down on your lip so that your giggles stay quiet, but your nose scrunches and your cheeks pull and Bradley feels a sense of pride fill his stomach.
He looks at you flatly. “Did you see her?”
“Bradley!” Your mouth drops in offense but you’re still laughing. “That’s so rude!”
Bradley only grins cheekily.
Your giggles finally quiet and you relax against the couch again—now much more tired. Letting out a yawn, you wipe at your face.
“You finally ready to sleep, sunshine?” Bradley asks quietly when he sees you blink slowly for the third time in a row.
You shuffle up on the couch. “But what about you?”
With a gentle hand, Bradley smooths your hair back from your face, watching as your eyes close at the feeling. He knows that if you stay in this position any longer, he won’t be able to talk himself out of just falling asleep on the couch with you, so he gets off the couch slowly. With a free hand Bradley also helps you up.
“How about we both go to sleep?” Bradley offers and you nod, your yawns coming back in full force. In response, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before gesturing with his chin towards the dark hall of rooms. “Why don’t you go? I’m just gonna turn the kitchen light off.”
Wordlessly, you comply, giving him a final hug goodnight before you start trudging back to Giselle’s room. Bradley watches you go, unwilling to move from his spot until you’re swallowed by the shadowy hallway. Finishing his glass of water in silence, Bradley gives himself another moment of peace before he’s forced to wake up to the reality that he only has a few weeks before Admiral Simpson gets back. Just as he’s turning off the light in the kitchen, his phone buzzes in his shorts.
Makayla: how did today go? 
Bradley leans against the kitchen counter, his promise to you to go to bed long forgotten as he types out all the boyfriendly duties he accomplished throughout the day.
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myobmaya · 2 years
Note
okay so, what if you and eddie break up and the one who’s more distraught than either of you is Dustin. in his eyes, this would be worse than his parents divorcing.. he would try so hard to keep it together, but when he would see one without the other, he would just become this big crying mess and he’s begging eddie to get his shit together and try to fix it. (you can make the ending a happy one, or a v sad one! your pick! also, sorry for the sadness, I just want an author to make me cry 😅)
I fell in love with this the moment I read it. Thank you so much for the request. Your brain is just *chefs kiss*. I hope I did you justice 🖤
——-
A Little Help From My Friends
Eddie Munson x GN!reader (they/them pronouns)
TW: talks of a break up, self doubt insecurities, alcohol use, cursing
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Three Weeks Ago
“Campaign’s been cancelled.”
Dustin stops doing his math homework. Mike’s pen drops from the letter he’s writing to El. Both boys look at each other and suddenly they’re reaching for the walkie talkie.
Mike is the first to grab it pressing his thumb against the button, “What? Why!”
Even after Eddie left high school he still kept up with his love of D&D and opted to host it at his trailer. He took his role as the honorary big brother to the group very seriously. He never missed a night always keeping his words to his young friends that idolized him. Confusion takes over the teenagers minds wondering what crisis would cause Munson to miss the D&D night they looked forward too.
The line stays dead for a few moments until Eddie’s voice rings through once more.
“We broke up.”
The boys look at each other in pure shock. Dustin is the first to start asking questions taking the walkie out of Mike’s hand. He asks what happened. He asks Eddie if this was a sick joke. He’s met with nothing as Eddie turns off the walkie and goes radio silent.
Eddie holds the walkie to his chest trying to collect himself. He feels his tears slip down his face and wipes them away quickly before tossing the device on the kitchen table.
The fight you two just had keeps playing in his head and he wants nothing more than to turn it off. You had came home telling him of an exciting new job offer. He was so happy for you. It was an amazing opportunity and he was on board for you taking it. But he saw how you pulled back and told him you weren’t going to take it. You would stay here. He instantly told you no and said you’d be crazy not to go. You told him he couldn’t tell you what to do. He got insecure. You got angry. One thing led to another and he was telling you there wasn’t a reason for you to stay if you didn’t have him. You didn’t get another word out. He left.
He closes his eyes but all he can see is your tear filled eyes looking right through him as he tells you he can’t continue the relationship anymore. His chest tightens and a dull ache begins to form. His eyes open and he’s back in his trailer.
He stalks over to the refrigerator, opens it, and spots a beer in the back. It’s taken out and popped open within seconds, the cool liquid running down his throat.
It had to happen. He thinks to himself. He thinks about how you don’t need him holding you back.
He thinks about grabbing another beer but ends up taking the whole pack instead. He’s downing half the bottle and heads to his room. The bedroom door is locked behind him and Eddie sinks into his bed not wanting to face the reality that he just broke up with the love of his life.
—-
Two Weeks Ago
Steve Scans the VHS tapes ready for his shift to be over. Robin sits on the counter snacking on a bag of chips she found in Steve’s backpack watching him work. Both young adults ready to be off in a few hours.
They haven’t had any but a few customers on the slow Wednesday night.
“You know you could help me and we could be done with this.”
Robin pretends to think about Steve’s suggestion and plops another chip on her tongue. “Yeah, but then that would mean you’d have nothing to do the rest of the night. Who am I to deprive you of not having to work?”
Steve rolls his eyes. Typical.
He goes to bite back but he’s cut off by the sound of the front door chiming alerting them of a customer. Robin quickly hops down and stuffs the bag of chips under the counter. She wipes her hands on her jeans clearing them of the chip dust.
“Relax, Buckley, it’s just me,” Dustin storms in throwing his backpack on the counter pushing the VHS tapes Steve just organized.
Steve yells at Dustin to be careful and Robin takes her seat back on the counter. Dustin rolls his eyes as takes in the candy options in the case. Robin sees the disheartening look on his face.
“What’s wrong, Henderson? Mommy won’t let you rent Never Ending story this week?”
Dustin’s head shoots up with glaring eyes at Robin. Robin gives him a grin letting him know it was a joke. Steve stifles back a laugh as he gets his pile back in order.
“I can’t do it anymore. It’s hurting too much,” Dustin confesses picking up a Twix bar.
Concern takes over Steve and he leans against the counter ready to console his friend. “Awh man, did you and Susie break up?”
“What? No. We’re good,” Dustin opens the candy and takes a bite out of it. “I’m talking about Eddie and-“ Steve sighs as he pats Dustin’s back cutting him off.
“Dustin we talked about this. You have to let them figure it out,” Steve tries reasons. Robin looks at both boys completely confused.
“Listen Harrington just because your relationships don’t work out doesn’t everyone else has to suffer,” Steve takes immediate offense to that statement but Dustin continues on taking another bite out of his candy, “they’re meant to be!”
Robin’s curiosity gets the best of her and she’s throwing her hands up in the air and making a T our them. “Woah. Pause. Time out here. What the hell is he talking about?”
Dustin finishes the candy bar and starts pacing back and forth. Steve leans over ready to update a very lost Robin.
“They broke up.”
“Who?”
“Eddie and—“
Dustin stops and looks at Robin annoyed that no one else is effected, “We have to do something. It’s so obvious that they belong together! They’re supposed to get married and make me the best man, dammit!”
Steve runs a hand down his face having heard the same breakdown from Dustin every night since you and Eddie broke up. Robin glances at Steve and back at a very upset Dustin. She didn’t even know you two had broken up. Why didn’t anyone tell me. Then again, she’s been busy with her own relationship she hasn’t really seen you. The thinks back to the last time she saw Eddie. It was a few days ago at the Hideout. He was very drunk and hardly recognized her, but he was there. By himself. Dustin grabs another candy bar bringing her out of her thoughts. She thinks for a moment treading carefully over her words.
“Dustin…” she pauses thinking of the right words to say, “Don’t you think they broke up for a reason?” She sees the way he immediately shakes his head not liking those words come out of her mouth. “I mean… maybe it’s what they wanted?”
“Those two idiots don’t know what they want!”
Robin gets down from the counter to stop Dustin from pacing with a hand on his shoulder. He looks at her with a defeated look. She pulls him in for a hug. It only lasts a few seconds when Dustin stands still not reciprocating it.
“Why are you so upset about this?”
Dustin sighs and takes his hat off running a hand through his curls. “I just don’t understand what happened. One day they were fine and the next Eddie is saying they’re done. I went to Eddie’s to get answers but he’s never home.”
Robin nods crossing her arms thinking of you.
“Have you seen-“
“No. I went over to talk to them but I get nothing. They wouldn’t tell me to much of what happened just told me they wanted to be left alone.”
Robin starts to see why the breakup between you and Eddie is so personal. You two were the people he turned to the most when he needed advice. When he needed an outsiders perspective looking into his situations. He loved how you and Eddie always made the bad in the world seem so good. He’s seen to many couples break up, including his own parents, for him to give up on love. And yet you and Eddie showed him that it’s okay for two people to come from two different worlds and learn to love each other. Dustin turns around and a small sniffle is heard. “It doesn’t feel right. It feels like I’m watching my parents divorce. I mean for God’s sake they practically raised me.”
Steve rolls his eyes and straightens his back as his hands meet his hips. “Ok I wouldn’t go that far. I was the original babysitter and I help you—“
“Steve this isn’t about you.”
This time Robin doesn’t hide her laugh. Poor Steve can never catch a break and Dustin is always there to remind him. Steve shakes his head knowing where Dustin is headed in his rant,
“Dustin, you gotta let them figure it out. If it’s meant to be then it’ll be. You can’t force them to work it out.”
That’s it.
Light bulbs go off in Dustin’s head. He looks at Steve as if he just created a cure for all diseases. Robin watches as Dustin runs over and grabs his backpack. His backpack knocks over the stack Steve had fixed.
“That’s it! You brilliant brilliant man!” Dustin runs to the door but stops. He turns around and runs back to the counter grabbing another Twix bar.
“Hey! You need to pay for those, Henderson!” Steve yells watching Dustin grab his bike from the front of the store. Dustin takes off and Steve looks at the mess on the floor annoyance bubbling up. Robin pulls out a five dollar bill and slips it to Steve taking care of Dustin’s candy tab.
Robin watches Steve pick up the pile.
On the other side of town Eddie plays his guitar.
You stay in bed watching your favorite movie.
And Dustin rides his bike home thinking of how he can get his favorite couple back together.
——
One Week Ago
Eddie lays on his bed as his fingers gently go up and down the guitar strings. He hums a melody that reminds him of you and the way you used to sing with him. That painful ache he’s been feeling the moment he walked away from you hasn’t left. When’s not at the Hideout he keeps himself in his room. The door stays locked. It keeps him keep from knocking on your door asking for forgiveness. To prevent himself from telling you that he misses not only his lover, but his best friend. In the years of being side by side next to you, he’s never felt so lonely. He misses you. Your smile fills his mind.
Stop it.
Eddie stops playing and sits up. The back of his palms rub against his closed lids. Eddie gets up and puts his guitar back on his wall grabbing his jacket from the chair. His mind is set going to the Hideout.
Eddie opens the door preparing to leave but he’s immediately stop when fist fly at his chest. The person stumbles across the threshold but Eddie is quick to catch them in his arms. He pulls them up by the shirt in their back and is shocked to see who is visitor is.
“Henderson? What brings you here? To my humble adobe? To assault me?” Each question getting less enthusiastic and more sarcastic.
Dustin fixes himself pulling down his shirt taking a breath in. Eddie takes note of his bike thrown on the ground outside. Sweat lines the collar of Dustin’s shirt. His cheeks tinted red .
“I- I was trying to,” Dustin struggles with his breathing. Eddie places a hand on his shoulder and turns Dustin around kicking the front door shut with his boot. He sits Dustin down on the couch before getting him some water to cool him down.
Dustin take a gulp out of the cup Eddie gives him and places his hands on his knees. He takes a deep breath in and blows out into the air as if candles were in front of him. He’s exhausted.
Eddie stands against the wall opposite of the couch patiently waiting for an explanation.
“I wanted to see you. I saw your van and knew you were home. I was about to knock on the door right as you opened it.”
Eddie gives Dustin a stoic expression.
Dustin flashes him a smile, “I miss you, Eddie.” That breaks Eddie and he’s smiling back at Dustin. The two remained close even after Eddie finished high school in the past year. He hadn’t seen Dustin or anyone for that matter since the break up. You, Dustin and Eddie were all very close taking him in as a brother. He wonders how Dustin felt not hearing from him.
Eddie begins to feel guilty with the sudden cut off he’s had with everyone, especially with Dustin as he looks at him with the tired look on his face. Eddie doesn’t live near him and the weather still had it’s hot moments. Judging from the sweat lining his shirt Eddie knows Dustin went out of his way to see him and check up on him. Only Dustin Henderson would go out of his way to check up on Eddie Munson. Dustin is a real friend to him despite him ignoring him and the outside world. And that’s why Eddie doesn’t make him turn around and leave, he lets him relax on his couch.
Dustin let’s a comfortable silence pass before asking him the question he’s been avoiding for the past three weeks. His voice is quiet when he gets the courage to ask Eddie.
“What happened, Eddie?”
Eddie isn’t frozen by the question. He knew it was coming. Yet he doesn’t seem prepared by it. A chuckle comes out of Eddie as he shrugs his shoulders. He pushes himself off the wall needing a taste of alcohol.
“Nothing, man. All is good here.”
Lies.
Dustin doesn’t say anything as he watches Eddie take a beer from the fridge. Eddie opens the bottle tossing the cap into the trash before taking a swing out of it.
“As a matter of fact, I couldn’t be better!” Eddie begins his way back to Dustin.
Eddie takes another drink sitting down next to Dustin. Dustin scoots over seeing the strong front Eddie is so desperately trying to build crumble with every word.
“I mean I graduated right? I finally did it. I’m getting more gigs. And I’m not needing to sell as much anymore!” Dustin is surprised to learn that Eddie isn’t dealing as often as he was and he’s happy for his friend. Still, despite his new success coming with the band, he knows it’s all a front. Eddie thinks back to the argument. Eddie remembers being so excited for you. He genuinely was. But his fears of holding you back came in strong. 
Eddie looks at Dustin with a fake smile plastered on his face. Dustin can only give him a half hearted smile letting him know he sees right through him. Eddie’s own falls and tears well up in his eyes. Eddie bites his bottom lip looking up at the ceiling willing himself not to break down in front of Dustin.
“I fucked up, man. I miss them so fucking much.”
Dustin pats Eddie’s shoulder before bringing him in for a side hug. Eddie knows Dustin’s aware of his emotional state. The way he’s closed himself off from the people he loves scares himself. He pulls himself away dragging his hand over his face to collect the few tears that escaped. He knows Dustin isn’t here for small talk. He’s here for a reason.
“I know, Eddie. It’s time for you to grow some balls and get them back.”
—-
Present Day
It was 9:30 p.m. on a Saturday night. You pull up to the parking lot of the family video store seeing Steve’s car parked up front with the hood open. The lights are on inside giving you a clear vision of Steve on the phone while Robin reads a magazine. She sees you and hits Steve’s shoulder telling him you arrived. The store closed 30 minutes and both of your friends were stranded leaving you as the designated knight in shinning armor to pick them up. Robin peaks her head through the front door and waves at you before stepping outside. You roll down your window as she approaches with a shy smile on her face.
“Thanks for taking us home. Dingus is on the phone trying to get a tow,” Robin explains leaning against your door. You nod understanding the frustration Steve must be feeling trying to find car service after hours in a small town.
Robin convinces you to come inside in the meantime promising it shouldn’t be much longer. You happily agree seeing as the weather was getting colder at night and you didn’t want to use anymore gas to heat up your car while you waited for Steve.
You both make your way inside where you’re met with a very upset Steve. “Awh, c’mon man! I can’t leave my car here overnight! It’s probably just the battery can’t you just send someone to jump it?” Steve throws his hands in the air. Poor Steve just can’t catch a break. Robin looks at you and you immediately follow her to the break room. It’s a small room. Just enough for small table and microwave shoved in the corner; but it makes sense seeing as the store employees three people at a time. The smell of popcorn fills your senses as you sit down on one of the chairs.
Robin opens the microphone and takes out a bowl of popcorn shoving a handful in her mouth. She offers you the bowl but you politely tell her no hearing Steve yell out a frustrated cry in the background. You and Robin exchange a glance of worry but choose not to say anything opting to ask her how work was today.
On the other side of the store Steve calls the last mechanic in the yellow book praying they’re still open. He’s in the middle of hearing the fourth ring when the store door is opened and two familiar mops of hair walk in.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Steve murmurs just as the line goes dead on the other line. Dustin flashes him a toothy smile that tells him he has something to do with his car troubles.
Eddie holds two cable jumpers in his hand and Steve sees his van is parked right next to his. Eddie looks nervous glancing around the store. It’s clear he saw your car in the parking lot and knows you’re here.
“Heard you were having some car troubles. Figured Eddie could lend you a hand,” Dustin says not so casually. Steve rolls his eyes knowing that Dustin was 100% responsible for this. He wants to question how Dustin even knew about his car but knowing Dustin, and does Steve ever, he knows he planned this very well. Steve takes in Eddie and notices the way he fidgets with the cables in his hand. Eddie clearly has no prior knowledge of you being here.
Dammit, Dustin. Steve steps from behind the counter pointing a finger at Dustin. “I don’t know what you did but I know you’re responsible for this.”
Dustin only grins at his friend shrugging his shoulders. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Steve huffs at him as he turns around and guides Eddie outside to help him with his car trouble. Dustin waits for the two men to walk outside before he’s running back to the break room.
You’re in the middle of listening to Robin talk about a new movie coming out when Dustin makes his appearance by the door. It’s been a couple days since he stopped by your house to check on you but he still manages to get a smile out of you. You take in his backpack and glance at the clock on the wall hanging above the threshold. Concern takes over and you can’t help the questions that begin to rise.
“What are you doing here, D? The store is closed and it’s past 9:30 at night.”
A fake look of shock paints across his face as he place a hand over his heart. “What! Oh. Yes. You’re right. Ha. Ha ha. I just saw Steve’s car and figured he needed help.”
You look at Robin who only gives you an attempt of a smile but fails miserably with the guilt right behind it. Dustin walks over and opens up his backpack taking his walkie out and placing it on the table. He picks it up only to knock over Robin’s bowl of popcorn causing her to groan out in frustration.
“Oh well you look at that. I’m such a cluts!” His tone is robotic and almost rehearsed. He’s up to something. You cock an eyebrow at him about to question him when Robin sees your mind catching on. She stands up and grabs Dustin by his backpack.
“Dustin why don’t you go see if Steve needs help with his car,” She holds emphasis on car. The two look at each other, Dustin taking in her sentence before the light bulb goes off in his head. He claps his hands and nods enthusiastically.
“Yup! You’re right. Ha. Ha ha.” He looks at you and then at Robin. A smile is on his face as a moment passes by. Robin rolls her eyes and pushes him towards the door reminding him to keep to the plan.
Robin sees you about to ask her what that was about but beats you to it telling you everything is perfectly okay. She walks to the door and turns to you, “I’m going to get a broom.” She looks at the popcorn. You offer to help her but she insists she can do it. With that she closes the break room door leaving you confused as ever.
It only takes five minutes and Steve’s car is up and running perfectly fine. Both boys turn off their cars and hop out. Steve shakes Eddie’s hand thanking him for the help which Eddie only nods in return. Eddie is ready to leave to avoid any crossover with you. Dustin sees Eddie go back to his van. Eddie tells Dustin to hop in so they can go. Dustin happens to start coughing in that moment gaining attention from both men.
“You okay, Henderson?” Both men say simultaneously. They look at each other with an eyebrow raise for a second before turning back to the teenager.
Dustin bends over holding his chest. “Need water! Eddie go get me water! Steve stay here and get me my inhaler!”
Steve shakes his head at Dustin. It’s very obvious Dustin’s faking his actions. “You don’t have an inhaler-“
“Water, Eddie! Dammit I need water I’m dying here!”
Eddie doesn’t question it seeing his friend in distraught. He jogs to the door stopping as right before he opens it. He sees Steve begrudgingly open the backpack looking for his inhaler. Weird, didn’t know Henderson had asthma.
“Water?” He calls out his question.
Dustin waves his hand forward as he dramatically falls into Steve’s arms. “Break room!” Eddie turns back and makes his way there.
Steve pushes Dustin off of him. Dustin snatches his backpack out of Steve’s and gets his spare walkie out of it. Steve goes to tell Dustin off but stops when he sees Robin peak up from behind the counter. She managed to hide herself tucked up in the corner waiting for her signal. She sees Eddie’s hair bounce across the store straight to her target. Steve and Dustin watch as Robin sneaks up behind Eddie.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Dustin shushes Steve. Robin waits for Eddie to open the door taking her key out her pocket. He stands frozen in shock seeing you sitting right there. Robin takes the opportunity and pushes him inside, closing the door and locking it from the outside. Dustin throws out a victory punch in the air loving the execution.
“Seriously? You got Robin involved?” Steve asks completely caught off guard. Dustin shushes him waiting for the thumbs up from Robin that you and Eddie were locked.
“How did you even get to my car? It’s parked up front,” Steve wonders leaning against his car. Dustin waves a hand at Steve dismissing him. Steve watches as Dustin takes a seat on the hood of the car.
“I didn’t do anything. Robin waited until Stacy and her friends came in. She knew you’d be distracted long enough to get to your car and run your lights to drain your battery.”
Steve tries to defend himself. He is not that easily distracted. Robin gives Dustin a thumbs up and the teenager gets his walkie ready to get his favorite couple back together.
——
You stare up at your ex with wide eyes. He looks at you as if you’ve grown a third eye. Both of you say nothing taking each other in for the first time in weeks. Eddie’s hair is pulled back in a low bun. Lose strands frame his face so beautifully. You want to tuck them behind his ear but stop yourself. His eyes are puffy and his skin looks dry. Your under eyes are darker looking as if sleep hasn’t been welcoming to you.
Both of you look like a wreck.
The walkie on the table beeps in jumping you both out of your daze. Attention love birds. Operation: Parent Trap has been initiated.
Son of a bitch, Henderson. Eddie hits the palm of his forehead. You stay quiet watching him. Eddie takes a hesitant step towards you to reach the device.
“Henderson, whatever you’re doing, knock it off.”
You keep your eyes on Eddie knowing he’s avoiding your contact. Of course he is, he’s been avoiding you the past 3 weeks.
“Time to man up, Munson. You’ll be let out once you guys talk it out.” The sound of Steve’s voice surprises you. You never took Steve as the type to get involved. Interesting.
Eddie curses Steve but he’s only met with silence.
Deciding it’s now or never you kick your foot out to the chair opposite of you. It screeches obnoxiously startling Eddie. It’s your way of offering him to sit down. He stands in front of you with a weary expression. You simply hold your arms to your chest giving him a nonchalant nod. You have nothing to be embarrassed for. He’s the one that ended things to hastily. Not you. Deciding that Dustin will keep his word and you just want answers of your own you take the route that’s natural for you.
“This is a bit extreme don’t you think?”
Eddie nods in agreement taking you up on your silent offer. He sits down in the chair. “It’s a Dustin idea. Of course it’s extreme.”
You both chuckle at that statement. Genuine smiles for the first time in three weeks. It feels good but so bittersweet at the same time. Silence fills the air as soon as the laughter ends.
Eddie feels the back of his neck getting hot feeling you stare at him. He knows he shouldn’t do it, yet he looks up at you. Guilt rushes to him and he so badly wants to hug you and tell you he’s sorry for being an ass and ending things. He wants to say the things he should have said instead telling you it was over.
You see the fight in his eyes. His fingers cross over each other cracking the air bubbles in between before he rests his knuckle against his mouth. You know he still loves you. People who are no longer in love don’t look at you the way Eddie does.
“You gonna talk to me now, Eddie? Or are you still running away from me?”
He closes his eyes hearing how soft your voice is. He’s missed it so much. He’s missed you. The moment he left your house he’s missed you.
“No.”
Your eyebrows furrow at his answer and he immediately realizes he already said the wrong thing again.
“I mean no I’m not going to run away from you. I’m here I want to talk.” He stops and thinks about his next sentence hoping it doesn’t come out wrong. “Only if that’s okay. If you’ll let me explain myself.”
You lean back in the chair crossing your legs out in front of you. If he wants to ever speak to you again he better start doing so himself.
“Please do explain yourself, Eddie. Please tell me how we were literally fine and within minutes you decided we weren’t.” You don’t mean to bring up that night so hastily but you have no choice but too. He left you with no answer as to why.
Eddie slides his head down to meet his closed fist. You watch him battle himself internally. His eyes are closed and he wants to shut down again. You see him begin to struggle and out of instinct you lean across the table and place your hand on top of his. He instantly relaxes to your touch.
“You gotta give me something here, Ed’s.” You slide your thumb over the back of his hand. Your voice is no longer hard. Even though you know in your heart it’s not true you still find yourself seeking confirmation. “If you don’t love me—”
His head shoots up shaking furiously. He cuts you off immediately letting you know that statement is all but true. “Loving you isn’t the issue. It’s not the issue at all.”
The pain settled in your heart begins to chip away. You knew that already but you needed to hear him confirm it. “Then what is it? Was it the job offer?”
Eddie looks down not wanting to see the shame in your eyes. He can deal with everyone telling him he’s a disappointment. But the moment he sees it in your eyes he know he’ll never come back from that. He can deal with the world not believing in him as long as you’re the one to cheer him on.
“It’s me.”
You ask what he means by that. Eddie lets out a huff. He doesn’t want to tell you how he’s feeling. If he tells you that he’s scared of holding you back then you’ll realize you can be with someone who can offer you more. Not the small town drug dealer that took longer to graduate.
But when you stare at him with zero judgement in your eyes that’s all it takes for Eddie to gather his thoughts. You patiently wait for him to gather what he needs to say. Just like you always do when you know he needs to process and execute his words properly. “I wasn’t mad at you for getting the job offer. I was proud of you. I am proud of you. You’re going to go off and do great things. Be whatever you want.” He sees the way you suck in your bottom lip to keep yourself from interrupting him. “But, I’m not destined for that. This is the best I’m going to get. And that’s why we need to stop this. I can’t be the one to hold you back. I won’t be the reason you stay.”
You feel your heart break again, but this time it’s for the man in front of you, not because of him. How could he think so low of himself? How could he make a decision based on his insecurities? How could he think he’s doing what’s best for you? A mix of frustration and annoyance builds.
“Eddie Munson, you are one stupid man if you think for a second I’m going to let you decide what’s good for me!”
He goes to speak but you immediately cut him off. “I’ve loved you for how many years now? I’ll continue to do so because it’s what I want. I want you. You don’t get to sit here and decide who I can and cannot love. Yes, the job offer I got is amazing but I’ll get another one because I know what they’re offering isn’t enough. And do you know how I know that?”
You don’t wait for his reply instead standing up from your seat. He watches you with wide eyes. “Because you are the one who taught me to forget the social norm and do what calls out to me.” You have a finger shooting at him to get your point across. “This job offer isn’t it for me. But maybe the next one will. And maybe I’ll take it. Maybe I won’t. I don’t know. You don’t know. But all I know is that when that time comes we’ll cross that bridge together. Because that’s what we do. We make decision together, Eddie.”
Eddie only stares up at you seeing the passion in your eyes. You hold zero judgement or hatred to him. His fall back down to his hands. His voice is barely above a whisper.
“You deserve better. I don’t know if I can give you that.”
Frustration leaves and you begin to see the insecurity laying on the surface of his emotions. You feel yourself get sad. How can he not see what you see in him? You tell him to look up at you. He doesn’t.
“Look at me.”
You step away from the table. You squat down to be eye level with him. To be equal with him. You gently grab his face in between your hands. He looks at you and disappointment never comes across your face.
“Eddie Munson the world doesn’t deserve you, yet here you are. You are too hard on yourself. I love you. I didn’t know you’d be it for me but the moment you let me into your world I knew I’d love nothing more than to forever be with you. I love you, Eddie. I do. But you don’t get to decide what’s good for me and what’s not. You’re it for me.”
“But-“ you shake your head. If only you could take away his insecurities of being good enough you’d do it in a heartbeat. You wish so desperately he could see the good that you see in him. You wish you could take away any negative thoughts he has about himself. Just like he wishes you were nicer to yourself. How he wishes you’d never get into your head with negative thoughts. The two of you tended to be so wrapped up in trying to help each other you both forgot to take care of yourselves in the process.
“No buts. You love me. I love you. We love each other. We fight. We make up. We take care of each other. But it needs to start with us first, Eddie.”
He leans forward and captures your lips. You keep your hands on his face while his hands hold onto the sides of your neck. There’s nothing sexual behind the kiss. Just two people desperate to tell each other how much they love one another.
He isn’t the one to pull back. He never wants to be the one to pull back ever again, emotionally and physically. You lean your forehead against his both of you masking each other in.
“Don’t ever doubt us, again.”
He nods letting go of your neck to get ahold of your fingers. Both of your pinkies lock around each other and he kisses your knuckle. “I promise I won’t ever doubt us again.” You repeat his actions, the pinky promise bond ensuring your word to each other.
Eddie helps you stand up and you pick up the walkie talkie. You give him one last kisses before pressing the button. “Time to tell our love child mommy and daddy are back together.” Eddie laughs at your comment taking your hand in his. It only takes a few moments and the door is open revealing a shy faced Robin. You give her a thumbs up telling her all is well. She squeals with excitement. You feel Eddie pull you into him. Eddie and you make your way up to the front with her trailing right behind to lock up the store. Dustin can be heard celebrating with Steve outside who tells him to get in the car so he can take him home.
Both of you are just reaching the front store doors when Eddie’s curiosity gets the best of him.
“Wait,” you stop and look at him giving your full attention .
He eyes you suspiciously. “Whose mommy and whose daddy?”
You can only laugh when you hear Robin give a fake gag hearing the innuendo in his tone. You lean forward placing a sweet peak on his lips. He pulls back as you throw him a wink. “We have three weeks to make up for. Let’s go back to your place and find out.”
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cozy-cinnamon-roll · 10 days
Text
Stitches (Part II)
(Read Part I Here! used to be We Interrupt This Broadcast... changed the name because I feel like this fits better 😅)
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing: Ler!Rosie, Ler!OC, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)
Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, very brief blood mention, medical themes (non-graphic & painless). And again, this is set right after Alastor gets his ass handed to him by Adam, so you can expect some angst (don't worry, he gets better).
If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige. 💕
This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.
"Almost ready" I said. "Basically finished" I said. Sorry y'all, the Chronic Illness Fairy struck. 😅 I will say this was my favorite part to write, but also the one I'm most uncertain about... bit more angst in this installment and I'm not much of an angst writer lol... but with Rosie in the mix (especially as a ler), angst never lasts long. 🥰
Also I changed the title. Hopefully it's not confusing that way... cuz without Part 1 this fic makes zero sense 😅
One last thing... I'm so happy y'all like Trudy! Was thinking about posting a lil sketch of her at some point (I need a new insomnia project now that this fic is done 😅). I've been having a truly awful few weeks on the anxiety front, so all the positive feedback on Part I has been quite literally making my days 💕
Hope you enjoy!!
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"Ooh, you stubborn little bastard. You're still gonna refuse to laugh?" Rosie mutters.
Alastor doesn't dare try to speak. All he can manage is a defiant shake of his head.
"Look, my friend. If you 'don't mind a little tickling,' and getting all giggly is your specialty…" Rosie tweaks his bottom rib, eliciting a noise that comes just short of a squeak. "What, exactly, is the problem here?"
"I'm supposed to be in control!" he grinds out through his twitching grin.
"You are in control, sir." Trudy abruptly withdraws her hands, holding them up innocently. "You can tell me to stop at any time."
Alastor cringes. He was sorta hoping no one would point that out.
"Which is why I find it so fascinating that you haven't yet." A sly smirk creeps across Rosie's face.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
"I- I'm humoring you!"
"Humoring me?" Rosie tilts her head. "My dear, I hope you're not doing this just for my sake. If you don't want Trudy to check for further injury-"
"No, I do! O-on my terms!"
"This is on your terms."
"Yes, but-"
"In fact, you insisted."
He stumbles again, before mumbling another meager, "…to humor you!"
Trudy shoots her boss a disoriented look - but Rosie, as usual, is hearing her friend loud and clear.
"Alastor." Rosie rolls her eyes, gestures for Trudy to step aside, and scoots over to place a hand on his knee. "Adam is dead. Everyone in hell thinks you're either succumbing to your wounds in some remote gutter or hiding in whatever alternate dimension you just spent the last seven years. You're not even 'on air'." She leans in. "You can drop the act for a moment, if it's what you need."
That certainly hits the mark. For the first time, Alastor's smile falters - not completely dropping, but certainly losing much of the strained quality it's had since he arrived.
"I wish I could, my dear."
Encouraged, Rosie continues. "Well, what's stopping ya? As much as I love spending time with Alastor the Radio Demon… if you wanna take this opportunity to let out whoever's underneath that effervescent grin of yours, you know we wouldn't mind."
Alastor swallows - and for the first time in a decades, Rosie finds his expression difficult to read. "Rosie, I'm afraid I can't really..."
"I mean, you've been holding that same silly show-host-smile for years! Don't tell me you've never gotten tired of it!"
"It's sewn on, Rosie."
"…What?"
He hesitates. "Let's just say today wasn't the first time I've been, ah... stitched up." As he speaks, he gestures to his toothy grin. And for once, there's not a trace of distortion in his voice.
Rosie's dark eyes go wide when she realizes what he means. The cannibal overlord just stands there for a beat, in an uncharacteristic moment of shock.
But, being Rosie, she quickly recovers. "Well, so what?"
"I'm just saying, I'm afraid I can't really drop the act."
"Nonsense! Since when has your act had anything to do with your face?" Rosie flicks her hand, as if brushing the thought aside. "Who cares if you can't show genuine Alastor. I wanna hear him."
"But my microphone..."
"You're doing just fine without it."
Once again, this attempt at reassurance only makes Alastor look more disturbed. "Th-this can't be me!"
"...Well, no. This right here sure isn't the Alastor I know. But…"
Alastor is barely listening to her anymore. His broadcast persona has been his sole identity since he was alive. Now his radio tower has been reduced to rubble, his microphone snapped clean in half, even his carefully-styled clothing left in tatters…
If this is the Genuine Alastor he's now stuck with - panicked, stuttering, weak - he can't imagine how he'll ever be able to face the rest of hell…
But these racing thoughts are once again interrupted by nails tracing up his sides. A sharp yelp cuts the air as poor Alastor just about jumps out of his skin.
"…Perhaps I can offer a little help?" Rosie suggests gently, once she has his undivided (and adorably flustered) attention. "On your terms, of course?"
Alastor just gazes back at her for a long moment. "What do you have in mind?"
"I happen to know something about you that even you can't fake."
The radio demon hesitates… before heaving a sigh and, to Rosie's surprise, giving a small nod of consent.
She breaks into a brilliant (and frankly terrifying) smile.
Before Alastor can brace himself, Rosie's hands have both found his sides and begun working into his waist. Having just watched him squirm around under Trudy's thorough probing twice (and adored every second of it), she already has a pretty good idea of where his worst spots are.
Which is made abundantly clear by Alastor's reaction. Within seconds he's gone from still trying to hold it all in by habit, to giggling into his hands, to cackling hysterically.
And it's the kind of laughter she's spent the last seven years missing. This isn't the confident, taunting chuckle he brings out for battles or brushing off rivals; this is bright, helpless, occasionally hiccuping laughter, the kind that is nearly impossible for him to stop once he starts - and the kind she only has the privilege of hearing when something truly amuses him.
"You can't sew your laughter on," Rosie reminds him. "This is all yours."
Rosie's fingers creep up under his shirt to scribble on bare tummy, adding a couple new sweet spots to her mental catalogue. This technique brings out even more of her favorite little quirks: the way he bats playfully (and completely ineffectually) at her wrists; his repeated attempts to speak around his laughter that only result in frantic spurts of incomprehensible, giggle-laced gibberish.
As she traces her nails across his lower belly she also finds a tiiiny layer of unexpected pudge. Which probably shouldn't surprise her - he's been out of the battle scene for seven years, after all. All those deer carcasses have to go somewhere.
Regardless, she finds it terribly endearing for some reason... and the surge of affection translates into a corresponding surge in the intensity of Rosie's tickles.
"AHaha! Ro- Rosie!" he blurts, his voice jumping a full octave higher than normal. "Stop!!"
Rosie removes her hands immediately. "Stop?"
"Aha- ah- well- I mean, er…" He stumbles breathlessly, and gives a sheepish cough.
"You didn't really want me to stop, did you?"
Rosie resumes with a chuckle, reeling herself in just a little. "How 'bout we say... oh... 'enough,' if you really want me to quit?"
Of course, she has to go and say it out loud.
"M-more of a reflehex..." he admits reluctantly.
Alastor tosses a shaky thumbs-up at her, already too lost in his own giggles to manage a verbal reply.
And he's gotta admit… Rosie was absolutely right. He wouldn't stop her right now for all the souls in hell. There's a reason Alastor has the most recognizable evil cackle of any other overlord. He can't help but find dissolving into laughter as cathartic and exhilarating as always - even if this time, it's not at some poor soul's misfortune. It's a result of his best friend's affection for her darling deer demon.
"As fun as getting your soft little belly is," Rosie muses, pausing to let Alastor catch his breath for a moment, "I can't help but wonder if you're ticklish anywhere else…"
Alastor may be off the air, but Rosie can practically hear the screech of microphone feedback just by the look on his face. "….I plead the fifth."
"Have you considered his ears?" Trudy pipes up shyly. While she'd managed to restrain herself behind an impeccably professional bedside manner earlier, it had taken everything in her power not to stroke Alastor's ears when she'd been close enough to do so. They were just. so. fluffy.
"Ohhh, heavens…" Alastor, for his part, curls in on himself at the mere suggestion.
Rosie grins. "Hey, 'no' is always an option."
A long pause. Alastor can't believe he's considering this. But the sensation of being tickled, as unbearable as it is, does feel awfully pleasant… and it's been so long since anyone has dared to touch him…
And what else does he have to lose at this point, anyway?
"I suppose if you're… very gentle…"
"Are you aware that your ears are the softest thing in the nine circles?"
This stipulation ends up backfiring. When it comes to his ears, gentle is worse. So, so much worse.
Poor Alastor is too busy clutching his stomach and snickering madly into his sleeve to reply.
"I should know, I work in retail. These right here-" Rosie traces her fingers down the feathery-soft edges, sending the radio demon into a new round of hysterics. "-Would fetch a pretty penny."
"They're nohot for saHA-ale!!"
"Nooo, I should say not." Rosie's hapless victim lurches back into the cushions as her fingers find the fluffy region at the base of his ears. Even without the microphone, his cackles have no problem filling the room. "You're the only demon classy enough to wear them."
"And don' you - GAHaha! - f-forget it!" He's so drunk on laughter now that he's beginning to slur his words. His careful elocution has gone the same place as his steady tone, and lack of stutter.
Luckily, he's also far too drunk on laughter to care.
...Right about there, Rosie notices that the faint hum of radio static in the air is no longer just in her head.
He is laughing his heart out for the first time in weeks. Genuinely laughing for the first time in decades. And laughing completely for himself, for his own enjoyment, without need for intimidation or control or image or audience, for the first time since long before he died.
While Trudy typically can't say much for her self-preservation instinct, she's got enough of one to feel hesitant joining her boss in tickling the most powerful overlord in hell (outside the pretense of medical intervention, at least). So she just stands back, watching fondly as The Most Dangerous Overlord This Side of the Pentagram utterly destroys the deer demon.
...At least, until she notices a flicker of green light out of the corner of her eye. Lying forgotten on the end table, the splintered ends of Alastor's microphone are sparking and crackling like live wires.
The surgeon creeps over for a closer look, staring in fascination. And then - just as Rosie gets poor Alastor behind the ears and delivers a scribble to his tummy at the same time - she ever-so-gently nudges the fractured ends closer to one another.
To her surprise, a bright green spark arcs clear across the gap. For a fraction of a second, the whole staff radiates a flash of a familiar green glow.
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"Keep him laughing, Rosie," Trudy murmurs over her shoulder. It appears the Radio Demon's downfall will be nothing more than an intermission.
Thanks for being so patient with me y'all! Hope it was worth the wait 💕
💜- Cozy
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nai-nyeartwork · 2 months
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The AU you have where Vox is the vintage one and Alastor the modern one has been living in my head rent free. I can’t stop thinking about Vox being all bouncy and cartoony (definitely like you said, Roger Rabbit) and having very cartoon-esque physics and power base. Or Alastor still being radio but very much modern and staying ahead of the game. If you are willing and have any time to indulge me, I would love love love to hear more about your AU!!!
Hey! I'm happy you like this AU. I wish I had more time to explore or write a proper story for it since I have too many ideas for it. For this AU, Vox can upgrade himself to how he normally appears in the show but he honestly prefers staying like a cartoon demon since he thinks he is more powerful in that form. Like breaking the 4th wall and using cartoon logic to mess up hell's landscape/ other demons. When he does switch TV heads, because his retro TV got busted or needs to try a different attack, his powers will changed based on the type of media or how advanced the technology is. I keep thinking he secretly doesn't want Alastor to see him differently than his normal retro look since Vox knows how the Radio demon feels about technology. Since it sort of like a swap AU, Vox has two thralls, Valentino and Velvette instead of forming an alliance with them. He tricked Val into signing a contract with him when the moth demon was struggling with his porn studio or had problems with the shark mafia. While Velvette tried to confront Alastor and Vox to be the new overlord media but lost against Vox. He kept her around since she seemed useful and would call on her more than Val when it came to promoting his or Alastor's broadcasts. Vox still lets his thralls try to make their own business but constantly demands their assistance for random dangerous schemes. If the Vees oppose or try to avoid Vox, then he will control them like puppets with his inky cable wires. The Vees are up to date with hells society even using advanced technology thanks to Alastor, but because they are under contract their appearance remains the way they arrived to hell? Or like vintage animation style? Like Val’s appearance has 70s archie animation/comic style while Velvet's is more 80s lolita anime (kinda like Perfect Blue).  Meanwhile, Alastor still befriends Rosie who also has to catch up with the time. He often promotes her business since Rosie's cannibal town has become more like a meat/food factory. Rosie often repurposes any meat, scales, teeth, and angel feathers/blood to sell at her cannibal markets.
Husker stays as an overlord but owes a favor to the Media Overlords, and often plays host to them whenever they visit his casino. I was gonna make Niffty an overlord too but I haven't decided what type she would be or just be Alastor's assistant.
I kind of want Vox to help the Hazbin Hotel and Charlie (if I don't change her and the other hazbin residents roles too much). He wants to help the hotel because Vox's end game would be controlling them. Alastor only offers to help the hotel when Vox asks him to otherwise he doesn't bother to interact with the other residents or with Charlie since he has a podcast to run.
As for Vox and Alastor's relationship, they can be very professional in front of strangers/public while with associates/friends they get a little affectionate. They are on guard constantly and only trust each other since they are media demons. In private, they are very vulnerable and give each other a lot of aftercare. Or try to have a few mental breaks from upholding an image to the public. Like Vox has a whole-ass aftercare routine when Alastor is stressed and doesn't want to listen to demons due to his radio abilities. He even mutes himself and plays silent films while Alastor hides under a blanket with noise-cancelling headphones on. And when Vox destroys or needs to repair his TV head, Alastor always makes sure to have spare parts and tools on hand to assist him. He is used to repairing Vox and acting like a doctor for him.
They have been together for so long in hell, they lose their shit if the other overlord gets hurt or someone tries to take them away since in their eyes no one else compares.
And that's all I have folks!
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