Tumgik
#not but like *gestures wildly* DO YOU SEE IT? DO YOU SEE IT!?!?
jimraisedmeup · 2 days
Text
TICK // 2.1 - hollywood nights
Tumblr media
Rating: mature (language, sexual content)
Word Count: 1600
She stood there bright as the sun on that California coast He was a Midwestern boy on his own She looked at him with those soft eyes, so innocent and blue He knew right then he was too far from home
September 1983 - junior year
You sat on the wooden picnic table, leg bouncing up and down with a buzzing sense of anxiety.
Eddie was late. And you fucking hated when people weren't on time.
Honestly, you had nothing else to do for that entire evening, let alone the whole weekend. So his tardiness didn't really affect anything. It was the principle, though. A general respect for another individual's time. 
So the scowl on your face felt appropriate as you watched him stroll towards you. His black boots kicked up dirt around his feet, an air of cockiness hovering over him like a rain cloud.
"You don't look very happy to see me, sunshine."
Eddie Munson was your first and last choice for the tattoo. You were only 16, almost 17. And even if you were old enough, the closest tattoo parlor was several towns away from Hawkins. 
So your next logical thought was a risky homemade tattoo. Who in town wasn't a nark and had tattoos? Eddie fucking Munson. 
Normally, you would steer clear of the loud, unpredictable creature. You preferred calm things… things you could maintain control over. You kept your circle small. A quiet bubble of mundane peace. Eddie was pure chaos.
You noticed the metal lunchbox in his hand as he set it down clumsily on the table next to you. Instead of sitting down on the seat of the picnic table, Eddie perched himself on the top of it, looking down at you.
You sighed, "Let's just get this over with." His worn out boots were too close for your liking.
Ignoring your displeasure, the brown-eyed boy slowly leaned back on his elbows in a relaxed pose. The chains on his pants were the only sound in the quiet wooded park.
"How was your day, Y/N?"
You placed a palm to your face, dragging it down until you scratched at your neck. Be nice, Y/N.
"Um… it's Friday… and the weather is still warm, too. So I guess I had a good day?"
Eddie stared up at the trees above them. "You literally sound like an alien who is trying to figure out what a real human is supposed to sound like." 
Keeping your expression deadpan, you found little amusement in his teasing.
"So, should I take my pants off or what?" Standing up, you began to unbutton your jeans. "I didn't come here to have a heart-to-heart with y-"
"Woah, woah! Take it easy!" Eddie gestured wildly at you like he was trying to shield his eyes at something.
Looking around, you stood there with your pants undone. 
"I thought you came here to give me a tattoo. I told you, I want a quarter sized half moon on my-"
Eddie interrupted you again, which was also something that ticked you off. 
"Y/N," he stated coolly, "I have the memory of a fucking elephant. I remember what tattoo you want."
"So what's the problem here, Munson? I don't have all day. And you were late to our meeting to begin with."
"A real businessman, you are," the boy mumbled, staring at your bare stomach that he could see near your undone zipper. "It's just never been this easy to get a girl naked before."
"Ugh!" You threw your head back, hastily buttoning your jeans back up. He might have the memory of an elephant, but you had a fuse that was probably shorter than his cock.
With a huff, you sat down on the bench with your back to him.
"Why do you want the tattoo anyways? Does it have some kind of special meaning? You don't seem like the kinda girl to be breaking rules."
"What kind of girl do I seem like?" 
You looked at Eddie, who was back to gazing up at the canopy of green leaves. It was still basically late summer and the trees hadn't begun their transition into autumn yet.
Though his head was tilted back, his liquid dark eyes were now peering down at the frustrated girl.
"Hmm. I dunno. Y/N Buckley. French Club… good grades," Eddie pondered for a moment. "I've seen you hanging out with Nancy Wheeler and Harrington. That says a lot." 
His voice was almost resentful at that last statement, but you listened as he continued. 
"Your clothes are abnormally clean. Like, I'm surprised you're even sitting on this old ass bench with me right now. If I scuffed your white Converse you'd probably claw my eyes out."
You snorted, but you wouldn't ever dream of telling him that he was kind of spot on.
"Alright, enough of that. Can we please just do the tattoo so I can go?"
Eddie seemed scatter-brained and easily distracted. If you could help it, you would have already gotten the damn tattoo done and over with so you would never have to talk to him again. This whole situation was screaming Last House on the Left.
Digging in your pocket, you slapped the crumpled up five dollar bills on the top of the table.
He'd headed west 'cause he felt that a change would do him good See some old friends, good for the soul She had been born with a face that would let her get her way He saw that face and he lost all control
"So, are you gonna tell me what this whole thing is for? Seems like getting a tattoo means a lot to you."
Thankfully, he was almost done with the hand poke tattoo. You weren't exactly the best of company, in Eddie's opinion. 
But for fuck's sake, he could basically smell the sun on your skin while he was touching you. Hiding the hard-on in his jeans afterwards was going to be a legitimate problem.
So asking you questions was really the only effort of distraction available to him.
Suprisingly, after ignoring him for the last 20 minutes, you picked at your fingernails and grumbled a reluctant response.
"I just want something to keep secret."
"A secret? From who?"
He snuck a quick look at the girl, laying uncomfortably across the top of the sketchy picnic table. You were focused on your hands and inspecting your cuticles. You didn't seem fazed by the pain of the needle on your exposed hip.
Forcing his eyes away from your enigmatic face, he fought the urge to adjust his jeans. He had to keep the latex gloves on his hands sterile regardless of his dick being crushed by his pants. Completing your tattoo with precision and no infections meant a lot to him at this point.
And maybe, if he was lucky, you two might become some resemblance of friends after this.
"I don't know. My parents. Everyone around me," you shifted slightly. "Are you almost done? It's starting to get dark out."
"Stay still, Y/N. I'm just about done, then you can make your grand escape."
"Right? I'm surprised you haven't pulled out a knife yet."
Eddie held in a chuckle, trying to focus on the tiny moon. "That's the real plot twist. I'm going to wait until the tattoo is done to kill you."
"Not funny, Munson."
"You know, this isn't really a secret tattoo."
"Yes it is. Why wouldn't it be?"
"Because I know about it."
Silence. Several minutes passed.
The half moon was borderline microscopic compared to some of his own meaningless tattoos, but in all honesty, Eddie admired it. He could only think of a handful of girls at Hawkins High with ink on them. 
But then, after a second, he suddenly felt wrong about comparing you to other girls.
"Alright, all done. Let me clean it up so you can see it."
Holding out a hand to him so that you could get off the table without rubbing the tattoo on your jeans, you looked down at your hip and sighed.
"Well, shit."
"What? Are you realizing this wasn't worth getting murdered over?"
For the first time, you let out a little laugh in front of him. Eddie was slightly stunned, and he would have fallen over in shock if he wasn't still seated on the bench of the table. The wicked Y/N Buckley actually expressed an emotion.
"No, not at all. I'm actually surprised that I like it."
"Gee, thanks, Buckley. I'm flattered."
"Do I need a bandage or something?"
Eddie reached into his lunch box for the extra-large Band-Aids he packed. Your tattoo was small enough that a dab of Vaseline and a big bandage would do the trick.
"Yeah, c'mere."
You still stood a few feet away, scowling at him.
He let out a bark of laughter. "What the fuck? Come here, I don't bite. You've been laying in front of me for a half hour without that damn look on your face."
Scuffling over to him, you seemed to have run out of abusive comebacks. He quickly applied the Band-Aid and turned away so you could button your jeans.
The snap of his latex gloves while he removed them was intentionally noisy. He wasn't sure about you. Hell, he was so used to not trusting anyone that it made him kind of angry that he wanted to trust you.
"I guess you're right," you whispered, almost inaudible.
"Hmm?" He had his back to you, cleaning up the table and packing up his box.
"This isn't a real secret."
Eddie leaned back, craning his neck behind him. You looked almost sad.
"Not exactly. But that's okay. I'll be one of your secrets, too."
That was Hollywood nights In those Hollywood hills It was looking so right It was giving him chills In those big city nights In those high rolling hills Above all the lights With a passion that kills
(song lyrics credit: "Hollywood Nights" by Bob Seger)
TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!
27 notes · View notes
m0e-ru · 8 months
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
did everybody remember when atlus finally restored the attendant social link in the steam port and how stupid it actually was
180 notes · View notes
Text
me when a ship gets super popular all of a sudden but i see them as a very extremely specific flavor of queerplatonic and i have to deal with people gushing about how romantic their plot is everywhere all the time:
14 notes · View notes
aro-sora · 7 months
Text
Heartless
This month's Carnival of Aros theme is "Humanity and the Non-Human" and these prompts were particularly resonant with me:
It’s been a fairly well-documented phenomenon that many aromantics tend to feel some sort of connection to some sort of fictional non-human species, whether as specific examples, or as a whole. If you relate, what are your thoughts on these characters and concepts as an aro(-spec)? Do you have any experiences in any subcultures related to non-humanity, such as Voidpunk?
So I thought I'd write something about my personal experiences.
It will come as no surprise to people who follow this blog that I am a heartless aromantic and I'm also a huge Kingdom Hearts fan. (To anyone who isn't familiar with KH, in the games there are beings of darkness called Heartless. There's a lot of designs and some are cooler than others so here are a few of my favorites:)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
[ID: Various Heartless from Kingdom Heartles, in order, a Shadow, a Neoshadow, a Soldier, and a Darkling. End ID]
These beings are both literally and very much not literally (it's complicated) heartless. They are manifestations of the darkness in people's hearts and seek to steal more hearts to transform into Heartless.
(something something beings that are recognizably human but also . . . not and yet still have the instinctual desire to reclaim what was taken)
A common stereotype about aromantic people is that we are heartless and unfeeling because we don't experience romantic love. Aromanticism may influence a person's emotions and definitely impacts views on romance, but to say that all aros are cold and emotionless is hurtful and arophobic. But I also genuinely identify with the term "heartless." Not feeling romantic attractions makes me feel alienated from amatonormative society, and "heartless aro" is the best way for me to describe that feeling.
My love of Kingdom Hearts is also a huge influence on that. When I say KH rewired my brain, it's only a half joke. I was 5-6 years old when I first discovered these games and this bizarre Disney/Final Fantasy crossover was a very formative experience. "Heartless" is not just a way to describe my aromanticism, its a defining aspect.
What is it, to be Heartless? To be human, once, but now something . . . other: a being born of darkness. Darkness is a force that is often used for evil, but still KH makes a point of not making it inherently evil. Darkness exists in every heart. It can overwhelm, but it can also be accepted and mastered, like in Riku's case. To choose to become Heartless, in Sora's case, is a defining moment of humanity.
My blog url might be aro-sora (because let's be honest, he's super arospec) but the title, "My Heart Belongs to Me," is quote from Roxas, one of the best examples in KH of someone being denied humanity for supposedly not having a heart, yet being one of the most caring and emotional characters in the series. He's not an actual capital-H Heartless (that's Sora, briefly) but his story and his struggles just . . . resonate with me. "I am me! Nobody else!" I want for people to stop thinking of me as something I am not, as desiring relationships I don't want, or even being a gender I am not.
I don't have much experience with voidpunk culture (but now I want to look into it), but recently I discovered the term otherhearted: "Identifying strongly with something nonhuman and/or fictional, without literally identifying as that thing." (I'm a bit on the fence between being otherhearted and otherkin, but otherheart literally has the word "heart" in it and the KH influence is strong.) It's a very queer experience to want to change your identity and be something other than what people see you as. Sometimes I imagine that for myself—claws of darkness, eyes of burning gold. Darkness cannot exist without light, but neither can light exist without darkness. Nothing can destroy me, because I am the shadow at the very heart of the world.
I guess that would make me Heartless-hearted. An ironic term, I know, but similarly to my personal heartless aro identity I find it absolutely hilarious. So many parts of my identity are "contradictions": being bigender, being human and heartless. It fits with the lore of the Heartless themselves: some technically do possess hearts and some don't. (it's complicated)
I call myself heartless the same way I call myself queer. Bigots will use them as insults and an attempt to make me lesser and other and nonhuman, but to me these are my words. They are mine and I give them power, no one else. Someone thinks I'm "heartless" for not experiencing a certain feeling? Fuck them, I AM heartless. And I am still human because I choose to be, not because humanity is something to be given or taken away. I don't have to prove anything about myself to anyone. I define my own heart, NO ONE ELSE.
And if they still think that being heartless—being aromantic—is something "wrong" or "unnatural" or not human? I only have a warning for them:
Beware the darkness in your heart. The Heartless prey upon it.
8 notes · View notes
Text
guys i’m sorry i’m thinkin about plural vash & eriks again. bc it’s like. what if the lonely gunman was not actually as lonely as he thought. what if the man who has outlived thousands has someone always with him who he cannot outlive. what if the man who would tear himself apart for other people has someone around who will always pick up the pieces when he breaks. what then. huh.
25 notes · View notes
musical-chick-13 · 10 months
Text
Fuck it, weird-yet-galaxy-brain take is that Love Is War is rom-com Death Note, but not in regard to the ship that everyone thinks, and what I mean by this is that Kaguya and Miyuki are NOT the lighthearted lower-stakes rom-com version of Light and L, they're the lighthearted lower-stakes rom-com version of Near and Mello.
16 notes · View notes
always-a-joyful-note · 8 months
Text
Okay okay. I've recovered a little from hearing Arcane s2 in 2024 (ARCANE S2 IN 2024!!!!) and I just want to take a moment to remember why Arcane is actually the animated show of the 2020s.
Because you have excellent, unique animation with a killer artstyle, incredible action sequences, incredible movement, just...AGH. The THEMES about two different parts of one country at war, the way it affects the innocent, the way neither Piltover or Zaun are overly romanticised or vilified. Like they understand that no one class or race or whatever is better than the other, and they portrayed that so well with the heroes and villains coming from BOTH places and having complicated motivations for their actions but also being good and hurt and broken and SO, SO human. And the way they meet and relate to each other and bond and make friendships and connections and feel affection and love and attraction that shows us that in these Big Happenings and the emergence of Technology That Will Change things life still goes on. The way they treat Jinx's breakdown with so much love for the character, not romanticising her madness and breakdown but showing how in spite of the way she spirals she can STILL be loved (by us, the audience! and also by her sister!). And the father and daughter relationships shown, the way that just because you love someone doesn't make you a good person but loving someone will inevitably make you better or show others that there was something in you that COULD have gone well.
And I could ramble on about representations of mental health, diverse people groups, yordles (love how they were randomly thrown in with no explanation except the fact that they hold Lore), disability, and on and on. Except really, what made me fall in love with Arcane was just that it understood it was a story, and it wanted to tell a story about characters that people had loved throughout years of gameplay and make people just getting into LoL fall in love with them too.
8 notes · View notes
shadowxamyweek · 1 month
Text
youtube
(I will not be normal about this.)
3 notes · View notes
sunshineram · 9 months
Text
yknow what, im sleepy and in the mood to dump my thoughts onto whatever poor souls decided to follow me [HUGE FUCKING DIABLO 4 SPOILERS UNDER CUT.] (also this will make absolutely zero sense if you havent played the game, sorry, continue at your own risk? also sorry for getting attached to a blizzard game 😔)
OKAY SO, in diablo 4s story, donan(character im very attached to) dies right? walts up to a pillar in hell and it fucking rips a hole in his stomach, yeah? okay but what if that didnt happen though :) IN MY BRAIN VERSION OF THE STORY, EITHER: the guy never approaches the hell pillars(that are a bunch of people. why the everloving fuck would you approach these things in the first place. my guy. my dude. you are in hell my friend, approach nothing.) in the first place! so no stomach hole for you my friend ! literally the only reason he needed to do that was to make it to where you imprison mephisto in the soulstone instead of lillith. thats literally it. JUST TALK YOU GUYS. GO "HEY YKNOW LILLITH IS A WEAK LITTLE BITCH I THINK I COULD KICK HER SHINS IN EASILY" AND THEN GO DO IT.
ORR: it doesnt kill him. lorath takes him out of hell and to a medic! tadaa story intact, everything goes on as it does! except of course when you get out of lilliths wild mind palace(tm) lorath and donan are gone(because yknow. medic? needing to live?? not leaving the poor man to bleed out while you spend god knows in spooky eyeball dimension???) and neyrelle(TOTALLY DIDNT FORGET HER NAME) is still freaking out cause well one of her friends got attacked?? hello???? and everything goes as the game does :) maybe add a little spice and have fuck what was her nPRAVA attack the manor or something yada yada blasphemy of the heighest whatever noone likes her
2 notes · View notes
apollos-boyfriend · 10 months
Text
so my younger cousin is flying in to visit from brazil on sunday, and will be staying here for like, the entirety of july. which, don't get me wrong, is super cool! i love the kid! but it felt like a super weird move, considering his parents are the SUPER strict and borderline helicopter parents. even the smallest prank/roughousing with him/his little sister would lead to a strict talking to from his parents, he couldn't ever do anything without their clear permission, that sort of stuff. so letting him fly at alone at 16 to a whole different country and stay there for a whole month seemed WILDLY out of character. additionally, it just felt like a super last-minute trip. it's not like we have any plans to do when he gets here, and the flight itself and stuff only got booked like, midway through june.
and i was talking to my mom about it, kind of trying to nudge some answers out of her, and after a while she went, "yeah, i think they're sending him over here to get away for his boyfriend. see if the distance breaks them off." which, first of all, surprised me because last i checked, they didn't KNOW he had a boyfriend. literally everyone in the family did EXCEPT for them because while that entire side of the family being semi-conservative, his parents (mostly his dad) are EXTREMELY old-fashioned. so clearly something already went wrong. and considering the only reason the rest of the family knew is because one person found out and it spread like wildfire, i have a sneaking suspicion he wasn't the one to tell them, either.
and second of all. they're sending him HERE. to try to make him forget his homosexuality. i couldn't do anything but just wordlessly gesture to the multiple pride flags scattered around my room, then to myself, because really? he has like two other cousins in the us and they're sending him to me? honey i am about to introduce this kid to queer scenes you have never even heard of. he'll be returning home with labels only shrimp can perceive
23K notes · View notes
chompe-diem · 1 year
Text
“the ones we couldnt save”?????? brian murphy????
0 notes
m0e-ru · 1 year
Text
(reading my own ao3) wow this bitch is so correct and on point i wish there was more . cmon guys look at this shit https://archiveofourown.org/series/2536405
#kommento#// blatantly promoing my writing . i miss my 2021 early 2022 era i wrote so good#// not to shit on myself but i kind of lost my charm on that latest one from december#// but like woww ughhhh i wish there was more <- the writer#// FIVE MINUTES LATE I LOVE YOUU yorue the fucking epitome of the ever i loveyou kissing you#// AND ANTIHISTAMES !! AND EXTRA TIP and youre lost i love all of you i lveo you all mwa mwma mwamwamwa#// kind of fell off and lost the writing style i liked on dont let it rain BUT STILL i wrote something so IM STILL WINNING !!#// when i finish my kitchen fic it's over for all of you (shes almost at 2k and shes still going)#// when i finally finish something so au specific so self indulgent IT'S ALL OVER !!!!!#// i forgot my love for serialization and seeing things come together and whole i just wonder if i'll still have the ambition after that lon#// (in the corner) wow i wish theres more content of adachi and th attendnatn being friends#// besides the /wildly gestures at whatever the hell goes on in the iznmi tags/ whatever the FUCK this is#// i have ao3 svior btw theres so much shit censored when i open up the tag after 27 years and i do Not want to know what's in there#// sometimes i wish i could start all over and feel That Rush again where everythings so good and fun and whimsy#// learning new things one after the other like it's SO EXCITING !!!! just without the horrors this time#// and that i have YOU GUYS !!! (youre standing across me from the convenience store counter while i flop at using the barcode scanner)#// i wouldnt even KNOW adachis place in fandom i'll just be like LOOK AT HINM !!! hes so fucking terrible these two should be besties#// OKAY enogh remensicneing i need to GO !! BACK TO ACTUAL WORK !!! i love you all i hope youre all healthy
2 notes · View notes
hazelfoureyes · 2 months
Text
The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part two)
This is part two! Here is part one. I lied, there is a bit of smut! Oopsie daisy. Inspired by @moonmark98 ‘s story idea of reader trying to forget Alastor and failing. I hadn’t planned a second part initially so I hope you like it 🥺
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
You return to earth and spend a year trying to crawl out from under the memory of Alastor. When an employee tells you a terrible past trauma, you end up right back where you started.
<Tags/Warnings/Promises: Alastor x reader, light smut, not as explicit as part one, masturbation, implied childhood trauma, justified homicide regarding said implication, stabbing, death, a realistic description of my former job, gerbil slander, your bitch aunt Sara, hiking as a hobby, guns, shooting, choking, florida weather, mentions of the 2021 Loo Loo Land fire>
minors DNI
“Ooh my, this is highly unusual. Charlie is right, you really shouldn’t be here.” Stolas fretted over you. “Uuunfortunately I don’t have my book at this particular moment however I can just snag it from Blitzy and be back soon.”
“What’s a blitzy?” Angel looked around the room to no one in particular.
“What isn’t he?” Stolas cooed. 
“Wait a minute!” Husk snapped his fingers, “Is that the imp who burned down loo loo land?”
“The very one!”
“He also takes hits out on people on earth, doesn’t he?” Husk gave Stolas a sideways look. Alastor hummed in acknowledgment.
“Ah haha yes” Nervously chuckling, Stolas scratched at the feathers behind his neck, “Anywho! I’ll return shortly and get you back where you belong, little one.” He flashed his kind smile to you before bowing to Charlie and portaling out of the room. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Charlie sat beside you on the edge of the bed. You’d been escorted immediately to an empty room upon arrival, sat down while the core staff of the hotel flitted about wildly upon hearing Angel’s recounting of events.
“You smell dirty”, the tiny maid cackled and ran to you before being lifted by her apron by Husk. 
“That is a”, you rubbed your wrists nervously, “complicated question…”
“There’s nowhere safer in all of hell than this room. With Vaggie and me and Alastor”, Charlie brought her hands to her mouth, “or— not Alas- I mean” She looked at Vaggie, “What do I mean??”
“Nothing and no one will lay a finger on you here.” Vaggie was staring at Alastor when she said it.
“I don’t think its fingers anyone’s worried about”, Angel shifted his gaze from Alastor to you and back.  
Alastor turned his head  slowly to meet Angel’s eyes, “Did you say something, Angel Dust?”
He shook his head and quickly left, Niffty and Husk in tow.
“I think you should leave, too.” Vaggie crossed her arms.
Alastor replied by taking a step closer to you, gesturing with his microphone, “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. She is safe and sound, barely a bruise on her.” He looked over you, the side of your face still slightly pink from the way you hit the ground hardly an hour ago. He could hear your body sliding across the wooden cabin floor still, what a strangely exciting noise. What else could he drag you across? What surfaces could he slide your over? What noises would they make? What noises would you make?
“You took her fucking soul, Alastor. In a coerced deal!”
“If I remember correctly, that is exactly what I had been asked to do.” He grinned, taking his monocle off and cleaning it on his sleeve. Vaggie looked to Charlie, who shrunk from her horrified face. “Plus, she’s still alive. Who knows if the deal even counts. I’ve never made one with a living person.” With an exaggerated shrug, Alastor took a seat on the sofa opposite the bed, legs crossed. “Either way, she isn’t anywhere near Val anymore.” His eyes met yours, for the first time since… 
You looked away. He wanted to grab your chin and force you to see him. He wanted to read what was written on your face. Shame? No…yes, but something more. Embarrassment. Confusion. Ah— You clenched your jaw, finally returning his stare. Anger. “Did I not do exactly what I had promised I would? What I had warned you I would?” Your lips curled over your teeth. “While yes, I hadn’t explicitly stated the number of times-“
“Stop talking! No, no. Enough of that.” Charlie waved her arms as if she could dissipate the very topic away, “Alastor could you please give me a moment alone with her?” She looked at him with big, worried eyes, “Please?”
Through gritted teeth Alastor acquiesced, “It is your hotel, Princess. I’ll be just outside the door.” The last sentence was for you, you could feel it like you could feel his shadow still ghosting over your legs.
As soon as the door shut, she closed the distance between you, looking to Vaggie who offered her a supportive nod.
“Seriously, are you hurt? Did he— Did he hurt  you?”
Oh, you wish he had. That’d be easier to say. Easier to process. You wish he’d knocked you around like Val had done earlier. That left you indignant, enraged. But this — whatever this was — you couldn’t find purchase on a reaction. You didn’t even want to think the things bubbling under your consciousness. 
“Just my pride. Uhh,” you shifted, your thighs and cunt sore to the touch, “He really did warn me. Got my okay, kind of. And he didn’t hurt me, except dragging me around and flipping me but-”, You noticed Charlie’s alarmed expression, “I’m physically fine.”
She nodded, her expression still oozing concern, “Well that’s good, then.”
“What… You both seem humanish, but what exactly are-“ You tipped your head in the direction of the door. 
“Well I think Angel is some kind of spider…Husk, not entirely sure honestly”, Charlie looked up as if searching for a memory, “Alastor is a deer. It’s all tied to how people lived and died, I think.”
A deer? You shook your head, “Nothing about that man resembles a prey animal.”
“His death sure did.” Vaggie commented.
“So if I have some weird death I’ll end up here? If I drown… I’ll come back as a fish?” You were mostly thinking out loud, and hadn’t expected Charlie to nod in agreement.
“But don’t think about that! You might still go to heaven. Like Al said, he isn’t even sure the deal is binding.” She beamed and clapped her hands together.
It felt binding. 
When that green light had erupted from beneath you, you thought you could feel him. Not the tentacles, or the memory of his hand. It felt like he was in the light itself, casting shadows on the ceiling in the shape of you. It felt alive, every ray of light a breathe washing over you. 
You looked down at the robe, white and silky. Where were your clothes? Where was your fucking aunt? What about your phone? You had a car, too. Wait, no… did you drive to her house? Or did she…You hadn’t slept since being dragged to hell. Staring at the hem of the sleeve, you tried to focus your mind but suddenly you were wading in cognitive mud.
Shadows gathered near the foot of the bed before you saw Alastor rise out of the cluster. Charlie said something, Vaggie said something but sharper. It sounded far away already. Your body was beginning to feel heavy, an ache settling across your back and thighs.
“Perhaps you should lie down, my dear.” His voice cut through the murky waters of your thoughts. The bed sunk beside you as he pressed a hand down, the other lifting your chin to force eye contact. Vaggie made a loud noise, Charlie a smaller one, a longer one. Was it words? Were they speaking? Your lids were heavy over your eyes, Alastor’s face beginning to blur. His smile looked strained, eyebrows knitted together in an emotion almost recognized. Concern? His grin threw it off. You raised your eyebrows to try and open your eyes wider but the effect was minimal.
You heard yourself groan as an arm hooked under your knees, another catching your shoulders as you fell to the side. It felt like you were floating. Your legs came down slowly, you could feel the robe adjusting around your waist. Your head went back before comfortably straightening. A warmth spread down your neck, leaving goosebumps to runaway down your shoulder. It was dark now, and in the haze you heard from somewhere so close it felt like maybe you had thought it yourself,  “In perpetuity, mon cher.” 
You didn’t recognize the room at first, but when you finally managed to lift yourself out of bed you sighed. Home. You only knew it had been real because of the robe and busted lip. Well, mostly sure. 
 No one noticed you were gone, which wasn’t shocking. Working backwards, you could piece together you had gone to visit your aunt on Saturday morning. You awoke early Monday in your own bed some 60 miles from your aunt's home. Your car had been found abandoned off an old dirt road way outside of town. 
You tried to get back to life, get to work. But you were clearly only half there.
Your aunt was found dead the following weekend, half submerged in a swamp just outside of Tampa. Her funeral was funny. Not “haha” funny, “Say hi to Val for me” kinda funny. When they lowered her into the ground you wondered what she looked like. What's the animal manifestation of a selfish, raging bitch? What’s the most untrustworthy home appliance? 
Probably a gerbil, or a toaster. 
You found yourself doing that a lot, What will they look like in the afterlife?
It took a good six months for you to stop sleeping in the robe. You couldn’t trash it, it was evidence you had been spirited away. It smelled like smoke and baby oil. Like Angel. It was soft on your skin, like—
Oh. It took less time for the dreams to calm down. Maybe a month of waking up in a cold sweat.  
At first they were stressful. Val backhanding you. The feeling of leather chafing against your wrists. The cabin. The real one, not the set.
But then one night they weren’t stressful. You could remember the dream like it had really happened. A large hand cupping your cheek, another roaming past your hips before hooking under your knee. The warmth of a breath on your neck, on your navel. More hands. Everywhere. Your back, your ankle, your neck. 
You woke up and the first feeling you felt was disappointment. It hit you like a truck. 
The dreams slowly ramped up until some nights you awoke mid-orgasm. Never in your life had you experienced wet dreams; you didn’t even know women got them.
And it wasn’t always him—- well, not at first. You’d be kissing someone, a stranger or your ex or whoever. You’d have your hands in their hair, enjoying the feeling of their tongue sliding over yours. You’d be positively humming into their mouth. They’d pull you forward, lie you down, tugging your pants down your legs.
When they’d kiss up your arm and nestle into your neck they’d whisper hottily into your ear, “My doe.”
Sometimes you woke up, but many times you didn’t. Many times you grabbed his face and kissed him, letting him take control and direct you. You’d shrink beneath him, allowing him to use your body as he pleased. You’d surrender, you’d melt. He’d fuck you into the ground of god-knows-where, nails cutting into the flesh of your ass as he pulled you up to meet each punishing thrust. There were trees and starlight and you felt the humidity on your skin. 
You’d always squirm away, try to escape the pleasure and he would find joy in pulling you back onto his cock. It felt like a game where you both already knew the outcome. “Going to cum, sweetheart?”, would be the last thing you heard before the real life spasms of your release stirred you awake. 
The first man you took home after returning to earth was sweet. Gentle. Too gentle. You’d try to direct him, to let him know you wouldn’t break but he’d shy away from asserting dominance.
Other partners were more in charge, but it didn’t sit right. If you were going to allow someone control over you, you felt like they had to deserve it. You needed to respect them in some capacity. 
You tried choking during sex, while it did heighten the pleasure their hand felt so small it broke your concentration. Bondage was fun, you got a rush from shibari, but all it did was inform your dreams. 
You tried femdom, and while it was impowering it didn’t scratch that itch. You tried being a sub, but like before you found the people over you as unworthy of you. You didn’t think so highly of yourself, it’s just that autonomy was precious and these people were, well, just people. Mortals.  
Your friends enjoyed your hoe era, self titled, but it was short lived. It had been eight months since you returned when you bought your first real sex toy, and took up hiking. It felt nice to be outdoors, and the days you spent in the forests seemed to make for nights of  less intense dreams. 
Your toy was, ashamedly, selected for its three points of contact. A pink little vibrator, big enough to need some work into you but not painful. The first time you used it you clung to your pillow, heart ballooning against your spiked blood pressure, and screamed a chorus of his name. The two points inside you vibrating in tandem with the small suction cup shape extending from the base doming your clit brought back delicious memories. 
Every time, you felt embarrassed after. You could imagine him hearing you all the way in hell and chuckling at how pathetic you were. Satisfied at how empty you felt after.
It wasn’t just about the sex, you were never a very sexually needy person. You were chasing that feeling of surrender, of being both safe and out of control at the same time. The little bit of danger with the pleasure. But not, “local woman found dead in the woods” kind of danger. “Corrupt your soul and ruin your afterlife” kind of danger.
After a year of being earthside, life had finally calmed. Were you still fucked in your dreams? Yes, but a manageable once or so a month. Your toy was nice, but not necessary. A man, or anyone, hadn’t touched you in months. And that was alright. You felt almost normal, except the mornings you woke up hoping to see a pair of red eyes somewhere in the room. 
You chalked it up to escapism. 
Work had promoted you, twice, which helped distract you from boredom. While performing one of your monthly employee meetings, you met with a young man you’d recently hired. He was still in college, but he had a good head on his shoulders and made quick decisions. You were confident he’d be your equal within the year.
(Implied childhood trauma below the line; not graphic but it’s implied to have happened)
⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹
“Tired?” He asked you while you logged back into your computer. 
You nodded, yawning into the back of your hand, “Spent most of Sunday at Shallow Ridge. Scoping out a good camping spot for when it warms up.”
“No shit, my dad hunts out there. Every Sunday, too.”
“I didn’t take you for the hunting type”, You blinked away the exhaustion and opened his employee file.
“Nah I’m not.” He shook his head, “He used to take me all the time when I was little.”
You nodded, not looking at him and only half listening, “Aww, sounds fun.”
He scoffed. You found the audio file of his graded phone calls, double clicking it. The file seemed corrupted. 
“Not fun?” You absentmindedly asked.
You opened the program to manually find the call file. The silence began to creep over you until you felt your chest heavy under the weight of it.
You finally looked at him. The look in his eyes was distant, the color from his face was gone. 
“Hey”, your tone changed, your subconscious recognizing something before you did.
He snapped back up, looking at you now. His smile didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t say anything, just pushed your chair from your desk and looked directly at him.
“What?” He averted his gaze.
“You know you can tell me anything, right? You’re not just a resource here. Hell, I see you more than my own flesh and blood.”
He nodded, and when he finally brought his eyes back to yours his composure cracked and tears fell down his cheeks in streams. “It’s fine” he forced a laugh, “It was like a million years ago.”
You took off the rest of the day, and after providing hugs and your own tears and information on company sponsored counseling and resources, you went home.
Well, first you went to the camping store. And then home. Your dreams that week were calm, as if they knew you couldn’t enjoy a romp in a field.
When Saturday night bled into Sunday morning, you drove your car to Shallow Ridge. You placed the keys on the front seat and left your phone under the seat itself.
You waited for four hours, but eventually a truck pulled up and the man you saw in various Facebook photos and tagged family Christmas cards made his way into the dense forest. You circled back on the trail, head dizzy. 
You knew you couldn’t overpower him, but you weren’t trying to win. You just wanted to make him hurt. You’d met men like him before. You’d suffered men like him. Survived men like him. When you two crossed paths on the barely marked trail and you were a beat behind him, you stopped, took out the hunting knife you were told could cut bone, and brought it down into the crook of his neck with both hands.
He whipped around, shock and panic on his face as his hands came back from his shoulder bloody. When he scrambled for his gun you sliced at his chest, then again at his throat but it wasn’t deep enough to stop him. 
As he advanced on you, fumbling with his shotgun, you tumbled backwards. He fell with you, pinning you down beneath the full weight of his body on your stomach. Twisting beneath him you almost got onto your side when you sunk the knife into his inner thigh, remembering the artery there from your mother’s surgery. He got the gun loaded, aimed it at your chest, “Crazy bitch!”
“Fuck you.” 
He fired.
Your breath left steam as it flitted weakly from your body, frost still on the ground. Your mouth was open as blood held your face to the forest floor. As your vision darkened, you watched the man slump over and onto the ground beside you. His eyes were open and unmoving. 
A burst of green erupted from beneath you, and you smiled as you sank down into the light.
“Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?”
(Part three)
༻Masterlist༺
3K notes · View notes
deadsetobsessions · 2 months
Text
“DIDJA SEE THAT, DANNY?!” Tim, a scrawny eleven year old now, excitedly smacked Danny’s arm.
“Ow. Yes, yes I did.”
“Oh, gosh, I have to tell Jazz about this!!” The kid waved his arms about wildly, grinning from ear to ear.
“Jaso- I mean, Robin, smiled at me! And said he liked my t-shirt!! Oh my god, he likes literature puns, he even laughed! And then he punched the bad guy in the face! Look! I even saved the tooth!”
“Okayyy, nope!” Danny plucked the tooth and tossed it, ignoring Tim’s betrayed face. “I’ll trade you that for this.”
Danny Held out a piece of paper with Robin’s and Batman’s sigil on it, from when he asked them to sign it after they “saved” the two brothers from the two-bit thugs trying to mug them.
“Oh. My. God. This is like the best day of my life!! I love you, Danny! You’re the best brother ever!! Oh my god! I have to get Nightwing’s signature!!!”
Danny felt a rush of warmth at Tim’s proclamation of affection. Ah, he should probably step in.
“Hey, wait, no, we’re not going to Blüdhaven for you to stalk another vigilante.”
“It’s not just any old vigilante-!” Tim ignored Danny’s dramatic clutching-pearls gesture of mock hurt. “It’s Nightwing. The original Robin! He gave me my first ever hug!”
Danny paused. God dammit.
“…Fine.”
“YESSSSSS!!!!”
——
Danny-
“I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”
-is so damn tired.
“Tim. I’m literally a vigilante ghost. What makes you think I’d be stupid enough to argue with a kid who runs around Gotham at night to take pictures of other vigilantes?”
Tim deflated. “Oh. Honestly, I thought you’d put up more of a fight…”
Jazz laughed and ruffled Tim’s hair. “I definitely couldn’t stop Danny when he went out. He trusted me to support him and I trusted him to come to me if he was injured, though. Can you promise me that, Tim?”
“Yeah… okay, Jazz, I promise.” Tim promised, even if he was still pouty.
Danny chimed in.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally worried and I’m gonna hover like a mother hen when you go out, but again, I know how stubborn and crazy we vigilante types have to be.” Danny paused. “Do you want me to put up a token protest?”
Tim nodded, sulking. “Yes, please. I had a speech planned out.”
Jazz and Danny exchanged amused glances.
“Oh, okay, my bad, kiddo. Here, let’s start from the top.”
“Okay. Ahem,” Tim straightened his back, settling into his previous mulish expression once more. “I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”
Danny placed an appropriately disapproving frown on his face. “No, you can’t! It’s dangerous! You could get hurt! You’re just a child!”
Tim launched into his speech. “But I can’t stay still and do nothing when people are getting hurt! Even…!”
They were gonna be here for a while. There was definitely something about Batman going on a spiral because Jason wouldn’t be able to walk again after the Joker got to him. Danny wondered if ectoplasm could help. He might offer, if it actually had a change of getting Tim out of the vigilante business.
But that’s for later, because they had time. Jazz was on Spring Break… and they’re still staying here for free, after all of these years.
“So, how are you going to convince Robin to let you be Robin?” Jazz asked Tim.
Tim froze. “I… hadn’t thought of that yet.”
“Well, you could always remind him of the fact that we saved him from the Joker. He seemed pretty ready to leave the Robin mantle, the last time I saw him as Phantom.”
“I don’t want to blackmail him into it!” Tim whined.
“It’ll just be a suggestion, Tim.” Jazz smiled patiently.
“Besides,” Danny continued, smirking mischievously at his adopted little brother. “If you were actually blackmailing him, you’d pull out the photos where he ate dirt.”
“I guess that’s true…” Tim mumbled. “I know! I’ll have to follow them to see how I can best approach him!”
"I think that's called stalking," Jazz deadpanned.
"Well, it's not any worse than what he's already done." Danny shrugged at his older sister. "Sure, kid. Why not? Do whatever you want."
"I was planning to!" Tim bounced off to grab his photography gear. Jazz stared off after him.
"Should we be encouraging that?"
"More like can we actually stop him?" Danny leaned back, lazily completing his GED assignments. Jazz sighed.
"Guess not. Make sure he doesn't get in trouble."
"Do you even know how hard that is, Jazz?" Danny complained, dodging the whack Jazz sent at the back of his head. She smirked at him.
"Womp, womp, Danny. How does karma taste today?"
Danny flipped her off as he put the last punctuation on the paper. He heard a clatter and groaned.
“I’m gonna go watch Tim stalk Batman for the night. Want anything from the store?”
Jazz hummed. “Get me the specialty strawberry ice cream, from that one place?”
“The one that’s definitely a front for Falcone’s money laundering??”
“Yeah. They make good strawberry ice cream.”
“Sure.”
Danny went ghost and flew straight through the walls to catch Tim sneaking out by the scruff of his collar.
“No. Bad Tim.”
“Awww, come on Danny!”
2K notes · View notes
lovebugism · 2 months
Note
King Steve being a dick to shy!reader until he found out she was the one who left a note in his locker and not nancy 🥰
he's less of a dick and more of a dumbass in this but i hope you like it :D — when steve thinks nancy's left a note in his locker, he starts pulling away from you (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort ish but mostly fluff, 0.8k)
You’re not surprised to find Steve in the old chemistry classroom, half-abandoned in the west wing of the school — the two of you often seek sanctuary there, away from the vultures of Hawkins High. No, what’s strange is the note he holds between his hands. And the way he tries to hide it when he sees you.
He shoves the paper into the back pocket of his jeans and rises from the desk he sits on. It screeches and slides slightly back in his fumbling state. He tries to hide his panic with a lopsided grin but wears all the alarm in his eyes.
“Hey, babe…” he wavers.
The door clicks shut behind you. Instead of greeting him with a kiss and a warm embrace, you cross your arms over your chest and cock your hip gently to the side. The softness he’s grown so used to has suddenly hardened. 
“What are you doing?” you wonder plainly.
He stammers. “Uh… Skipping calculus?”
“No, I mean, why are you avoiding me?”
“Avoiding you?” Steve scoffs, forcing out a breathy laugh. He stumbles over himself with words and gestures wildly with his hands. “Why would I— I have no reason to— I’m not avoiding you, okay? That’s crazy.”
His deflecting isn’t reassuring. 
A weird, uncomfy feeling pangs in your chest.
“You’ve been acting weird for three days, Steve. I have to practically hunt you down to find you— and when I do, you act like you don’t even wanna talk to me.”
The pained look scrunching your features makes his stomach ache. He averts his gaze and shrugs. “That’s not true, you know that—”
“You won’t even look at me now,” you murmur, eyes glassy and stinging with distant tears. His gaze darts back up to meet yours again. You shrink inside yourself and shift your weight on your feet. “Do you… Do you wanna break up with me or something? Is that it?”
Steve’s face swirls with confusion, pained and panicked. “What? No!” he exclaims, voice ringing across the quiet lab. “Of course I don’t! Why would you— Why would you even say that?”
“Then what happened?” you agonize. “What’d I do?”
He rushes across the room and gathers your worrying form in his palms, fingers wide and warm on the outsides of your elbows. He ducks his head down so he’s more level with your tinier frame. His features furrow with anguish. “Nothing! You didn’t do anything, okay? I swear. It’s just this— It’s this stupid fucking note.”
Your brows pinch. “What?”
He drops his hand and reaches for the neglected paper in his pocket. The thing is folded four different times and slightly crumpled with how much he’s handled it. He waves it wildly in his hand. “Nancy left me this in my locker a couple days ago, and it just totally freaked me out, you know? I… I don’t know.”
He passes it off to you like he’s been dying to get rid of it.
You unfold the note. The sound of rumpling paper is much louder in the quiet. Steve watches you read it with a pained look on his face — doe eyes flitting across the familiar words and more familiar handwriting. 
Familiar ‘cause you wrote it.
It takes everything in you to bite back the smile pulling at your lips.
“Oh…” you hum instead.
“I didn’t meet her!” Steve blurts. “I swear, I just… I didn’t know how to tell you about it ‘cause I didn’t wanna upset you, you know? And I just kept freaking myself out, and I’m… I’m sorry.” The words catch in his closing throat. He swallows hard and takes a breath. “I don’t like Nancy anymore, okay? I like you. I love you.”
“So you didn’t… You didn’t meet her there?” you wonder aloud despite knowing the answer, waving the paper in your hand. Meet me in the bathroom, it reads, sloppier than your usual cursive because you wrote it against his locker.
“No!”
“Okay. I believe you,” you nod, smiling when he drops his chin to his chest and sighs in relief. “…Wanna know how I know?”
He glances up at you then, peeking at you beneath his lashes. His honey eyes sparkle in a silent answer.
“‘Cause I left you the note,” you confess, scrunching the bridge of your nose. “And I waited for you for half an hour.”
Steve gapes, equal parts confused and embarrassed. “…Oh.”
“Oh,” you parrot with a quiet laugh.
He stammers. “I’m— I— We just… Me and Nancy used to meet there all the time during free period. I guess I just… I thought that—”
“That she came crawling back?” you finish with a teasing glint in your eyes. “Because no one can resist King Steve?”
He meets your mischievous look with a shier smile. “It’s not that,” he mutters.
“I know,” you promise with a gentle sigh. “I’m just teasing.”
You lean further into him, both of you less anxious now than a minute or more ago. Your palms smooth over his chest while his arms curl around your back. “I feel like a total idiot,” he admits with a sheepish chuckle.
“‘Cause you are one,” you quip, sparkling with all the adoration you have for him. “And I love you.”
1K notes · View notes
cherubfae · 2 months
Note
Hi 👋
I'm loving your work so far and had to follow for more!
I was wondering, if you're not busy, if you could do the scenario when the reader tells them i can hold the whole world in my hands and the other looks confused and the reader holds their face in their hands with the hazbin crew + striker and how'd they react to it?
If not, it's totally cool. I look forward to what you put out next! 😊
you're my whole world || hazbin/helluva boss x reader
"I can hold the entire world in my hands. Wanna see?"
tags: gn!reader, afab for vaggie, implied!masc reader for angel, fluff, cuteness, established relationships
Tumblr media
Alastor
A crackle of radio feedback as his eye twitches when you reach for him, calms for a second when you cup his face. His clawed hands rest on top of yours. He's rather confused, how is this holding the--
"You're my whole world, Alastor~!" You grin up at him, lovingly.
The facade of a smile he always wears slips for only a second. But it's one second too long and you catch it. His eyebrows relax, lids drooping, cheeks pushing upwards and he beams at you softly. A genuine smile crossing his lips. He cups your face in return, puffing your cheeks like a fish and a muffled laugh track plays. Leaning his forehead against yours, he grins.
Softly, he whispers, "And you are mine, mon cour."
Lucifer
Immediately his eyes well up. He doesn't have the need to act all cool and collected when he's a total softie. He leans his cheek further into your palm, his eyelids fluttering shut allowing for a moment of respite. Tilting your chin upwards, he captures your lips in a gentle kiss.
"I love you more than anything. You are my life, sweetling, my galaxy. I would dismantle Heaven, Earth, and all of Hell to keep you and Charlie safe."
Charlie
The meeting with Heaven hadn't gone to plan and now, she's curled up like a little blanket burrito in her crimson comforter. She doesn't say anything when you announce that you can hold the whole world in your hands, but she's definitely curious in the way she immediately watches you with interest. She's confused when you cup her cheeks but soon gasps loudly in realization, eyes welling up. You always know just what to say when she's feeling blue.
"M-me? I'm your whole world? But you're my whole world, too!" Charlie grunts, breaking free of her blanket cocoon to cup your face in return. "Look! Now I can hold the world too~!"
Vaggie
She expected your reaction to be much worse. Vaggie finally admitted, albeit she was forced to tell, that she had been an angel this entire time. You hadn't been sure how to react and it was clear you were hurt by her secret and she respected that you needed time to process all of this new information. What she hadn't expected was you approaching her a few hours later, gently cupping her face and telling her that she was your entire world.
A valve breaks loose and Vaggie begins to cry. She wanted to tell you for so long! She really, really did, but she didn't know how! You hold her close, slipping down onto the floor with her letting her cry on your shoulder.
"I didn't want to keep this part of me a secret, but there was so much risk in people knowing-- if they would directly come for you, I just... I couldn't risk your safety if you knew what I truly was. I love you so much, I just wanted to keep us safe."
Husk
The glass he had been wiping down would've shattered on the ground had his tail not caught it. His wings instinctively fluff up, setting the cup on a rack with the rest of the clean, empty glasses.
"Didja have to get up there to tell me this?" He clears his throat deeply, gesturing wildly to ask what you were doing. You, currently perched on top of the bar counter on your knees cupping his face.
"Yeah!" You chirp with a grin. Husk sighs, grabbing you by the waist and hefting you down and off the countertop. He doesn't say a word when your legs wrap around his waist and your arms slide around his shoulders. His cold nose presses to your cheek and he chuckles softly, utterly happy and in love.
"You're a dork, huh, hun? But you're my dork." Husk purrs softly, pulling you in for a brief kiss.
Angel Dust
Owlishly, he stares at you. That confusion melts into a genuine smile and a soft chuckle. His third set of arms materializes, tugging you in by your hips while the other two wrap around your shoulders and waist respectively. Pressing his soft cheek to yours, he affectionately nuzzles you with a laugh.
"You're full of surprises, ain't ya, toots? Y-you're my everything, baby. My world. The one light in this whole damned darkness I call my life."
Vox
He was expecting something much different from you when you climbed into his lap, turning his attention away from his displayed monitors. Red eyes flickering, he's confused when you grasp both sides of his monitor screen. This is new...?? Vox's gaze widens as you finish your statement, chuckling deeply. Covering your hands in his, he places your hand to his chest where his dead heart would still be beating. You make him feel alive, no heartbeat and all.
"Fuck, baby, that's pretty cheesy. But I liked it." Vox grins, red dripping from the corners of his mouth. "C'mere, sweets. Wanna kiss ya."
Blitzø
Why do you have to say some of the cutest shit? Ugh, it makes his heart feel all weird and he's not sure how to react, but he does appreciate it nonetheless, especially with the two of you being alone. You know he's been working on his emotions, trying to do better. When he can't find the words to say, he nuzzles your palm softly and gives you a wobbly smile before harshly rubbing at his eyes.
"Th-thank you, ah, fuck.. Why am I crying? Must be a damn ninja chopping some fuckin' onions somewhere." He sniffles, deeply sighing. He grasps your hand in his, squeezing it softly. "I'm not sure if the world is a large enough example.. To, y'know, express my love or whatever.."
Loona
She's pretty taken aback by your statement, a soft blush staining her cheeks. Her tail gives a little wag and she smiles. Bending down to your height, she gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, her hand slipping into yours.
"You're such a sap, babe, but I love you too. You're my world as well. C'mon, let's see what kind of chaos Beel is having at her party tonight. Not every day I can show off how amazing my partner is."
Striker
Saying that he's surprised is an understatement. He recovers quickly, a smirk curling up his lips and he chuckles softly. He kisses each of your palms, gently removing them from his face. He tugs you in close, tail swaying behind him. Tilting your chin up, his claw running along your lower lip. He leans in close, lips only inches away. His voice noticeably deepens.
"You're sweeter than pie, ain't ya, sugar? Got my heart and stomach all twisted in knots like somethin' awful. I'm not the best with words but I'd be happy to show ya just how much your tender sentiment is mutual. If you'll have me."
Tumblr media
|| 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
2K notes · View notes