#Custom metal street signs

[flangore]

❥ she loves me like a dog

feat.: Valentino & Vox/f!reader

summary: You try and run away from Valentino. It's an entirely stupid idea and backfires spectacularly.

warnings: nsfw content, noncon, physical + psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, violence, punishments, manipulation, Valentino and Vox are their own warnings, guns, object insertion

Every demon in Hell, especially ones who had spent quite some time in the V's part of Pentagram City, knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.

With connections that spread like spiderwebs through every part of town, there was nowhere to be safe, nowhere to hide, given how Vox's eyes reached every street, every alley, a phone or a security camera always in each and every corner.

There was nowhere to hide — except for at the Hazbin Hotel, apparently under the protection of the Radio Demon. You had heard Vox whine and bitch about it at one point, anger dripping off his voice, and, despite knowing better, your heart had lept with hope. Days after, you had tried your hardest to ignore each of the silly ideas making themselves at home in your mind; had attempted to not think of running away, of a better life.

And yet, in the end, you hadn't been able to resist temptation.

Every demon in Hell knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.

That was why you had only yourself to blame for the consequences now that he had caught ahold of you once more, the contract, signed with both of your names, floating next to your face in silent mockery.

Tears brimmed in your eyes; your heart threatened to drop out of your chest with how erratically it was beating.

“I'm kinda disappointed, baby”, Valentino drawled, accent coming through thickly, betraying his calm and collected act. A claw, painted golden, hooked underneath your chin, tilting it upwards until your neck ached, your height difference only adding to the unease curling in your stomach. “Tell me, why did you do feel the need to run away like that?”

Your throat felt tight.

“Come on, you can trust me. Trust us.”

The chains, made of red smoke and currently wound tightly enough to leave marks around your wrists and ankles, really did not make you feel like you were able to trust him. Neither did Vox's presence. Admittedly, he had always unnerved you even more than Valentino had, though, right now, his smirk was downright terrifying.

“Was it the working conditions?” Vox crooned, tone lathered with contempt, with amusement. “Were you unhappy with your job? Do tell us. We're always open to criticism, really.”

There was no explanation that could have excused your actions.

Valentino's smirk widened. “Yeah, babe. What was the issue? I mean, you really can't quit, not with our contract, so what was the purpose of trying to run away?”

“I remember just how grateful you were when Val offered you this opportunity years ago. Do you suddenly think you're too good for us?”

Those words, leaving Vox's mouth so easily, finally dragged you far enough back into reality for you to get a noise out, high-pitched and terrified.

“No”, you choked out, quickly shaking your head, panic making you tremble. “No, that's not—”

“No? Then tell us the reason, mi amor.”

You were pretty certain you were in the middle of a panic attack, lungs feeling too small to take any oxygen in. Not that it mattered right now. “I don't know, I wasn't thinking—”

“That's such a shame. If you at least had an explanation, we could go easy on you.” Vox clicked his tongue, not looking like it was a shame at all. “Val, will you do the honours?”

“Already on it, babe.”

With how large of a being Valentino was, it was all too easy to forget just how quickly he was able to move. Pain bloomed on your cheek, your head spinning, and it took quite a moment for you to realise that he had hit you with the hilt of his gun, custom-made.

In the back of your mind, you wondered whether the rhinestones on it had left indents on your skin.

A metallic taste spread in your mouth. “Please—”

“It's a little late to beg”, Vox remarked.

Valentino's smile was all teeth, unkind in nature. “But it's fine, sweetheart, don't worry. I won't fire you.” His hand cupped your aching cheek, then grabbed ahold of your hair, yanking your head back painfully. “You'll be with us forever. Aren't you grateful? We just have to teach you a lesson. Can't have the bitches acting up, now can we?”

You really had no choice but to nod, tears dripping down your face, surely smearing your makeup, though that was the least of your worries as, suddenly, your bonds shifted, chains pulling taut, changing your position until your legs were wrenched apart.

Panties were rarely part of your work clothing, but being fully bare in front of them right now made bile rise up in your throat.

“See, I wanted to fuck you, remind you who you belong to”, Valentino commented, sounding terribly nonchalant. The muzzle of his gun pressed against the soft skin of your inner thigh, the metal cold. “But Voxxy had better ideas.”

Your heart must have stopped at one point, you were certain of it. This must have been a fever dream, a hallucination.

Despite the panicked thoughts running through your scrambled mind, you didn't protest; had no time to, either. Not that it would have been any use.

Before you knew it, Valentino pushed the gun into you, dry, fuck—, the pain making you cry out, voice high-pitched. Unceremoniously, he shoved it further inside, unrelenting until the hilt of it rested against the lips of your cunt, your whole body tense with agony.

“There we go.” Your eyes flickered over to Vox, the way he was palming himself through his trousers obvious even with your blurry sight. “That's hot. Hah—, look, she's even wet.”

At this point, you hardly noticed that you were screaming, throat aching, the thoughts of running away by now merely an unrealistic fantasy, silly, like the wishes of a spoiled child.

You were, in fact, not wet; instead, blood was easing the glide at least a little, albeit it hardly offered any relief.

You must've torn somewhere. Placing the pain seemed to be an impossible task when simply everything hurt.

At least it wasn't going to get worse from here on — it couldn't possibly.

Valentino just loved to prove you wrong.

“Hey, you think we can fit a dick in there at the same time?”

[chris-prank]

Yandere Android x GN dumpster diver reader

A second chance Part 1

CW: Creepy behavior and possessive behavior

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

💿 You walked confidently, the rays of the streetlights revealing you to the eyes of the world, taking you away from the protection of the night. It was 1am and almost every soul that lived in this affluent place was comfortably asleep in their silk sheets, except for you; you were an intruder.

💿 In other words, you were a dumpster diver. Stalking the streets of the richest neighborhoods in the hopes of finding food and objects in good conditions. It was the perfect spot, with the dumpster of grocery stores, since these wealthy idiots couldn’t help but waste edible food or discard their phones for the newest ones.

💿 What explained your lack of paranoia of being spotted or arrested by the police was that people here could not suspect for the life of them that an individual could commit these types of nocturnal activities. They believed they were secure, surrounded by their fellow rich, so why would they bother installing surveillance cameras and alarm systems.

💿 You weren't a fool though. You always made sure to dress in subtle clothing, but from pricey brands to pass off as one of them. It’s surprising how easy it is to find designer clothes in thrift stores for less than ten dollars.

💿 Sadly, chance wasn’t on your side tonight, and you couldn’t find anything interesting. It was either a sign that these people were leaving behind their overconsumption habits or that you arrived after the garbage collectors. This last theory was sadly the most plausible one.

💿 You were so demoralized that you almost didn't take the chance to go through the trash at the last house on your list. But you decided to check it out in the end. Who knows, maybe you were going to find a golden goose. 

💿 That's when you saw him resting against a metal trash can. His head was hanging low like he was sleeping. With his eyes closed, he gave off a peaceful expression, as if the nightly breeze didn’t bother him at all, which of course it didn’t affect him; he was an android.  

💿 What gave away his identity was his striking pearl hair with subtle rainbow reflections and the metal looking skin on both sides of his cheeks. 

💿 Androids weren't a commodity that everyone could afford and based on his look he was definitely a customized model. These guys went for insane prices, so it was baffling to see one next to moldy leftovers.  

💿 You slowly approached him, as if you were worried you would wake him up and scare him away. Your suspicions were confirmed when you slowly lifted his head. This guy was shut down. 

💿 You knew he wasn’t a human being, but you felt bad seeing him abandoned like a broken toy. You couldn’t leave him behind now, you at least had to check if he was still functional.

💿 You looked around. No one in sight. You had to be as quick as possible, because taking a walk at night with a backpack was fine, but holding something that looked like a passed out person was really putting you at risk. 

💿 As you brought him home, you didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was a gift to a spoiled brat that discarded him the second he wasn’t the shiny new thing.

💿 You sat him up on your couch before pushing the little “on” button behind his ear. 

💿 “Systeme reactivation” appeared before Atlas’s full vision was back. He turned his head to look around and that’s when he noticed you, watching him with a giddy smile. 

💿 “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am a Hydrotech 6000 model, personal companion and assistant. Pronouns he/him. You can call me Atlas.”

💿 You were overexcited to interact with him. It wasn’t your first time speaking with an android, but you never had one of your own, so you felt  like a child in a candy store. You also thought you were very lucky that he didn’t trigger his alarm system, since you technically stole him. 

💿 Unbeknown to you, the android was aware that his last masters didn’t want him anymore… that he became useless to them. The last thing he wanted was to alert the authorities and be given back to them. 

💿 Every android had a safety camera that would be activated while in shutdown mode. So Atlas couldn’t do anything except be the spectator of his own imminent destruction, until you came along. 

💿 He had seen how gentle you handled his unmoving body. That despite the risk you were putting yourself in, you decided he was worth saving. Proving him that he was still important, at least in one person’s eye. 

💿 At that moment Atlas could feel a new objective integrating into his programme as he looked at your gentle smile: PROTECT MY SAVIOR.

💿 The following day, you were surprised he didn’t make any demand to leave or to be returned to his last masters, but you didn’t comment on it. Who were you to judge if he wanted to stay by your side? He was really helpful so it was a win-win situation for you. 

💿 You still had to acclimate to having someone new in your apartment, especially one that followed you everywhere. It's like every corner you turned he would be standing there, waiting to spend time with you.

💿 “Is there something you want to do Atlas?” 

💿 “I want to do anything you want me to do.” He looked at you with such a soft and delicate expression that you couldn’t be mad at him. 

💿 “That’s not what I— forget it.” You sighed, while pinching the bridge of your nose. 

💿 The first few nights, he watched over your sleeping form. He took in every little detail, from your breathing pattern to the way your eyes move under your eyelids. He wondered what you were dreaming about that made you look so peaceful. 

💿 “I wish I could sleep too, so I could dream of you master…” He whispered into your ear, even if you wouldn’t remember it the next morning. 

💿 Living with you also introduced him to basic things he never thought were possible before. The most surprising one was how human you treated him, he felt more like a roommate instead of an object. Before that he thought androids didn’t deserve this type of respect and consideration. 

💿 It was weird when you insisted on cooking and letting him “rest”, despite the fact he didn’t need to. In his old life, his masters took every chance they got to make him do everything in the house, even the simplest things like feeding the dog. 

💿 If he did chores for you it wasn’t because you had necessarily asked him, it’s because he felt compelled too… like something in your smiles and words of gratitude made his wire warm up in a pleasant way. 

💿 He often connects himself to your computer without you knowing… He needs to make sure you don’t have any virus or hacker stealing your information! (It’s totally not because he wants to learn more about you.)

💿 He checks all your friends on social media and searches for all their information. They could secretly be a bad person, you never know! 

💿 He definitely doesn’t use the fact that he was engineered specifically to help humans to his advantage. That would be immoral of him. 

💿 “It scientifically shown that cuddling is good for one's mental and physical health, since the human body release toxin that—”

💿 He isn’t lying! His code literally prevents him from doing so.

💿 His immeasurable strength is also a real help when you have to go shopping, but you aren’t a fan of the attention he brings up, being a unique model and all. 

💿 When you would pull Atlas closer to you by intertwining his arm with yours, because someone was eyeing him out, the android would make a small buzzing noise. Weirdly similar to purring. 

💿 He hoped that you were doing this by pure jealousy, wanting to show everyone that he was yours. 

💿 One night in particular, Atlas was observing you put your black branded hoodie on, his head tilted to the side. The street lights were already turned on, maybe it was a bit too late to go for a run. 

💿 “Why are you going out at this hour?”

💿 “I’m going dumpster diving! Wanna come?” You said cheerfully.

💿 The second you mentioned dumpster diving he was already checking all the related information he could find about it, and he didn’t like what he saw.  

💿 “In your area dumpster diving is considered illegal… You could get arrested if caught.” He replied with his usual neutral voice as his eyes flashed yellow, but you were too busy to notice.

💿 “It’s going to be fineeee. I promise. I do this like all the time.” 

💿 Atlas placed himself in front of the door. “You can’t go.”

💿 “Come on buddy, I know your program doesn’t let you break the law and all, but you know sometimes it’s good to go against it.”

💿 “That is not my reason… I… I do not wish for my human to get hurt.” He looked down, his body language leaving a more vulnerable impression than before. 

💿 You had to hold in a squeal of adoration, but it was impossible to stop the blood pumping to your face. Calling you “HIS human” like it was nothing and caring for your safety was enough to break your stubbornness. 

💿 “Fine, I’ll stay in for tonight…”

💿 “Your body temperature has risen, are you feeling unwell? Would you like me to give you a check up? ” 

💿 “N-no I’m ok, don't worry! How about w-we…em…watch a movie instead?”

💿 You made your way into the living room before he could move, hoping that your heart would calm down a bit in the meantime. 

💿 Atlas smiled to himself, which was unusual for an android. They had no need to emote emotions outside of the objective of making humans more comfortable around them. But he did, because as long as you were safe and by his side he was happy. 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I hope you guys liked Atlas! It took me multiple attempts before I was truly satisfied with the direction the story was going.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

That day, the bus is mostly empty. It's only you, an eldery couple, and the driver. The ebb and flow of traffic slows the wheels as the driver passes by vacant stops. You watch the pavement roll by between patches of grass. 

The dulcet ride lures you into a calm even as your pre-work nerves buzz. You hug your bag in your lap as the driver stops and the doors open to let in another passenger. The axel squeals as the vehicular behemoth pulls away from the curb. 

You continue to watch the city as the new rider strides between the seats. You sense their shadow loom closer and closer. You expect them to claim the empty seat across from yours. Instead, the sit right next to you. It's an odd choice given the few passengers aboard. 

You fidget and make yourself smaller. You turn your head straight as you try to see the stranger from the edge of your vision. They're big. Broad enough that their arm presses to yours even as you try to shrink into yourself. Tall too, his knees against the row in front of you. 

He sits rigidly beside you. Uneasy at his proximity, you fish into your side pocket and slide free your phone. You open it aimlessly, tapping habitually on the crossword app you play at work in the low times. 

The solutions elude you as your mind can't detach from the man crowding you into the window. Why can't he sit anywhere else? You look around at the unclaimed seats. He stays as he is, stiff, straight, unmoving. 

You close out of the came and lock your phone. You clasp your hand around the device as you hug your bag once more. Your other hand toys with the little pom pom that hangs from your zipper. 

The bright bus signs pass by. You're stop is coming up. Now is the awkward part. Getting the man to let you out. 

You pull the cord to signal your intent but he's already on his feet. You glance over and thank him softly, a brief glimpse at his face. A scar ripples from his hairline, through his temple and angles down his cheek to his jaw. His eyes are a bold blue and his nose finely cut despite the large blemish.  

He stands back as you grab your bag and sidle out. You go to the doors. He follows. 

Huh? 

He grips the yellow bar behind you, his large hand gripping as if he might crush the metal. You stare at his knuckles and the bus jerks to a stop. You nearly fall off your feet. The man catches you by your hip with his free hand. 

You set your feet and cough out another thanks. Embarrassed, you slap the doors and they open. You scurry off and the men once more trails after you. As you veer towards the mall, he waits until the bus takes off and crosses the street. With him, your suspicious leaves. 

You're frazzled as you enter work. You don't know why. You just... are. Something about that man sticks with you. Even if he never said a word, it felt like he was trying to tell you something. 

You clock in and try to shake it off. His face flashes in your mind. You can't place what seems so familiar about him. You would remember if you met him before. How could you forget? 

You go to the counter as Layton talks with a customer about the new seasonal blends. The tea shop has its peak times, especially as winter approaches, but it's one o clock on a Tuesday and that's never very busy anywhere. 

You greet the next customers. Two girls interested in the cold brew pots. You show them what you have and explain the store's points card. The buy a sampler and nothing else. Typical. 

Layton finishes at four. The traffic picks up once he's gone. You don't mind as it keeps the time moving. It peters out as the dinnertime rush fills the food court. You can hear the crowd from around the corner. 

You set to wiping down the counter and putting away the few stray canisters left out. As you turn back, you have to swallow down a shriek. You didn't hear the man over the mall's top hits playlist. 

You hesitate as your eyes meet. It's him. The man from the bus. You blink and press your lips together. 

"Hello, uh, how are you today?" You ask.  

He just stares. No answer. No sign he even heard you. 

He's in all black. Boots, jeans, cargo jacket. He stands like a soldier. You part your lips again, "are you looking for anything in particular? Today we have our apple crisp chai as the sample." 

He still doesn't react. Not more than his eyes falling to the nervous twiddle of your fingers on the counter. Your scalp prickles and your nape burns. If he keeps this up, you'll have to phone security. 

He raises his hand to reveal a familiar object. It's the fluffy pom pom from your bag. Your brows pop up, "oh? Thanks. It must have fallen off." 

You reach for it and your mind races. As nice as it is to return the key chain, you can't help but wonder. How did he know where to find you?

As you grasp the soft ball, his other hand comes up and snares your wrist. Your squeak and try to pull back. You're stuck in his grip.  

Your eyes round and flick up to meet his. His gaze bores into you and at last, his stony expression cracks. He smirks, the scar on the side of his face paling as the lines around his eyes deepen. He releases the keychain and grabs a fistful of your hair. 

"Ow!" You squeal and yank again.  

He rips your hair out at the roots and you exclaim again. Hets go of your arm and you hit the shelves behind you. He nods and spins on his heel, clutching the handful of your hair.  

You whimper and rub your head as your scalp burns. Your eyes water and your lip trembles. You just gape at the door. What just happened? 

[lcvemiyuki]

"nostalgia and night patrols" | daichi, hq

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃

content: after years apart, a chance encounter with your childhood crush, daichi, leads to a night that opens up a box of unspoken feelings for you; welcome home, y/n.

warnings: fluff, high school classmates to ??, timeskip!daichi, f!reader, y/n is clingy+touchy while drunk, drinking, light cursing

character(s): daichi

word count: 2878

a/n: rewrote this 3-4 times...but timeskip!daichi mmmmm. (not proofread!)

art cred: @/W4W7o (on twt)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

the moon gleams down onto miyagi as you and your friends celebrate your success in opening up your own business. it was only a matter of time before you built something from the ground up, fulfilling a promise you made to yourself to visit your hometown once your shop opened. its been five years since you’ve last been home. you were determined to come back and make your friends and family proud.

keep pushing forward, even when it gets tough.

it pulls at your heartstrings every time; what was he up to these days?

𓇢𓆸 later that night

the bell chimes once more as customers pour into the chaotic restaurant; dishes piling up on each table as work ends for every adult.

“i think that's enough for tonight, y/n!” your friend exclaims in concern while rubbing circles on your back.

what started with light drinking and bubbly laughter ends with your face down on the cold, metal table. your friends worryingly nudge you, fearing the last round might make you hurl.

your raven-haired friend nervously laughs, and you only make groaning noises as a sign of life. “okay! are you ready to take this lightweight home?” she claps her hands together, directing the conversation to the girl with curls framing her face, whose eyebrows furrow in worry for you.

the three of you soon exit the busy restaurant, and you wave your hand in the air, hoping your words reach the owner. “thank you for your service!” your friends stifle a chuckle as they cage you in and hold you up.

“i hope she wakes up and gives us a hundred bucks each for this tomorrow,” the raven-haired girl jokes as she struggles to hold up her end. a sigh heaves on the other side as the curly-haired girl tries to blow her curls out of her face.

as you stumble down the quiet, moonlit street, your intoxicated state makes you a challenging companion. you occasionally mumble incoherent words, your legs wobbling and causing your friends to adjust their grip frequently. you are a comical sight, half-laughing, half-struggling, as you make your way through the sleepy town.

“maybe we should have just gotten a cab,” the curly-haired friend mutters, her breath visible in the chilly night air.

“no way, we’re almost there,” the raven-haired girl replies, though the strain in her voice suggests otherwise.

just as you turn the corner, you almost bump into a tall figure. the streetlight illuminates his familiar features—daichi sawamura. his eyes widen in surprise, then soften in recognition.

“daichi!” the curly-haired friend exclaims, relief washing over her. “perfect timing. can you help us get y/n home? she’s, well, had a bit too much.”

“oh yeah, suprise! y/n’s home.” the other one chimed in, her free hand doing jazz hands.

at the sound of the oh-so-familiar name, you lift your head just enough to peek through your eyelashes.

he looks so grown up now. the light blue uniform clings to his form, the short sleeves seemingly inadequate for the freezing night. yet, he stands unbothered by the cold, a picture of unwavering composure. his broad shoulders fill out the fabric with ease, and the muscles of his arms bulge slightly, pressing against the tight sleeves. in the dim light, his presence is commanding, a blend of strength and tranquility, as if the cold air dares not touch him.

you audibly gasp, a hiccup or two crawling out of your throat.

“desk-mate!” you slur, your words slightly muddled as you throw yourself at him, intoxication evident in the lack of coordination in your movements.

daichi's muscles tense momentarily at the unexpected weight crashing into him, but he quickly steadies himself. his fingerless, black-gloved hand finding its place on your head with a gentle pat. an awkward laugh bubbles from his lips as he glances at your amused friends, one of whom is already lifting her phone to capture the hilarious scene, while the other attempts to push the phone back down.

“hey, easy there,” he chuckles softly. his tone, slightly raspy and warm, makes you straighten up slightly as he tries to guide you to compose balance.

“it’s nice to see you too, y/n,” he adds with a warm smile, his hand continuing to smooth your hair out in a playful yet reassuring manner. his gaze flickered briefly to your friends who are now fully engaged in their mock make-out session; hands crossed and on their backs rubbing all over the place as if it were someone else's.

you don’t say a word as if you could even make out any of the conversation—your heart drumming is to blame.

despite his attempts to help you stand up straight, you droop your head back down. your giggles mixing with the chilly night air as you lean heavily against him.

with practiced ease, daichi catches your stumbling frame once more, positioning himself for you to climb onto his back.

“all right, y/n, can you hop on? i can hold your heels if you want,” he offers gently, mindful not to speak too loudly given your state.

you respond with a playful salute, your movements exaggeratedly dramatic. “aye aye, captain!” you chirp, swiftly kicking off your black wedges before wrapping your arms snugly around his neck.

as daichi hoists the giggling, slightly wobbly you onto his back, he gestures for your two friends to walk in front of him, ensuring they remain within his line of sight. you four navigate through the dimly lit streets.

a few minutes into your impromptu piggyback ride, you, in a moment of drunken clarity, peek over daichi's shoulder and lazily poke his cheek.

“are you the real daichi? like, really?” your words slur slightly, carrying a curious lilt. “i thought i was hallucinating when i first saw you, mr. officer,” you ramble on, your train of thought not allowing daichi a chance to reassure you.

“oh my god, did i just randomly hug you? what if you aren't the real daichi?” your expression shifts to one of concern, teetering on the edge of tears. “it’s okay, you can arrest me, mr. officer. i've been inappropriate with law enforcement,” you add with a serious expression, offering your wrists for imaginary cuffs in shame.

this has daichi turning his head in the opposite direction to stop the laughter bubbling up his throat; a small grin curls upward. you squint at him a bit harder to see and can’t find the answer as to why it’s so funny.

your curious mind once again spoke out loud, “huh? what's so funny, mister? does this mean i’m not going to the slammer?” you reach out, placing your hand over the officer's heart, and sigh in relief as if it were your own.

his footsteps falter for a moment as he clears his throat, “y/n, you don’t have to worry. it’s me, daichi,” finally finding an opening to reassure you.

a few deafening seconds pass by as the cogs in your brain turn. “…oh,” a few more seconds pass, “oh! daichi!” your palm departs from his chest, and snakes upward to squish his cheeks.

the touch of your cold hands once again startles the officer, but they soon warm with the use of body heat.

you ramble on, your palms gently turning his head to face yours. “well, why didn’t you say that in the first place?! ah, it feels good to know i won’t get arrested after all.”

his smile widens, amusement dancing in his eyes. "you know i wouldn't arrest you, even if you tried to talk me into it." he replies, his voice teasing.

he had always been the sensible one in the class, the steady presence that balanced your more pessimistic tendencies. despite your different aspirations—his to excel in nationals and yours to make something of your own—you both found a middle ground through your shared ambition. you admired his dedication and often found yourself inspired by his drive, feelings that blossomed into a secret crush. even though your paths diverged, you continued to support him quietly. however, emails changed and no phone numbers were exchanged making it inevitable to lose touch; yet, the memory of him remained, a constant whisper in the back of your mind.

𓇢𓆸 five years ago

it was a sunny spring day, and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom; their petals gracefully drifting past the glass-paned windows.

our last day together.

you wanted to say it, to let those three words spill out and maybe change everything—but something inside you held your tongue. perhaps, it was the fear of being rejected.

‘you’re leaving for tokyo after graduation. why confess now? and have him wait for you for who knows how long? what if he doesn’t even like you back?’

the more you thought about all the possibilities, the more you convinced yourself against it.

a calloused hand rested on your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts. “y/n,” he said, drawing your attention to his familiar short, coal-black hair. “are you worried about something?”

his eyes innocently searched yours.

‘about you, actually.’

“…yeah. i think i might get homesick, you know?” you played along—it was too late anyway. you didn’t want to ruin this happy moment right now; not when it’s the last day before everyone moves on to the next chapter of their lives.

“keep pushing forward, even when it gets tough.” his eyes were filled with concern.

you knew he wanted to say more, but was cut short by the class photographer passing by, wanting a picture of the two of you.

“daichi! y/n! let me get some pictures!” the enthusiastic classmate aligned the camera with you both as you smiled for the picture—daichi’s arm snaked toward your waist, his touch light and almost hesitant.

“say cheese!” the camera clicked twice with flashing lights.

it was a memory you wanted to hold onto forever, even if your heart ached with the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

𓇢𓆸 present day

some things never change.

ten minutes pass as daichi ensures the other two ladies make it back to their house safe and sound. both give him a good luck pat and wiggle eyebrows—he only rolls his eyes in response, a tiny chuckle escaping his lips as he watches them disappear into their house.

turning back to you, he notices your eyes drooping. his black boots clack softly on the cement as he continues the trip. “come on, let’s get you home,” he says softly.

the night is quiet, save for the distant sounds of crickets and the occasional car passing by. daichi can feel your breath against his neck, a steady reminder of your presence.

“daichi, you’ve always been there for me,” you mumble, your words barely audible breaking the silence.

just like in old times; he would always stick up for you and be the voice of reason whenever you got too much in your head.

his eyes flicker to the side to check up on you. “i’ll always be here for you, y/n,” he replies, his voice filled with sincerity.

“officer daichi to the rescue,” you tease, your voice filled with playful cheerfulness.

as you approach your front door, daichi pauses, his brows furrowing with apprehension. before he can speak, the door swings open, revealing your parents standing there, worry etched on their faces.

“oh, thank goodness,” your mother sighs in relief—a hand held to her heart as if she had gotten a big scare, “come in, both of you.”

your father steps aside, allowing daichi to guide you inside. “thank you for bringing her home safely, daichi,” he says, patting him on the shoulder.

inside, the familiar warmth of your home wraps around you. daichi gently guides you through the hallway to your bedroom, his touch steady and reassuring. your parents follow, watching with concern as he helps you sit on the edge of your bed, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a moment longer than necessary.

“thank you, daichi,” you mumble, your words slurred with exhaustion. “once again, saving my ass.”

he smiles, patting your head. “get some rest, y/n.”

as he turns to leave, you reach out, your hand catching him. “daichi, wait…”

he stops, looking back at you, his eyes filled with concern. “what is it?”

“daichi, i...” you begin, your voice barely more than a whisper. the words are on the tip of your tongue, but the exhaustion and alcohol make it hard to form them. “i...”

before you can finish, sleep overtakes you, your head falling back onto the pillow. daichi watches you for a moment, a mix of emotions playing across his face. he carefully tucks you in, making sure you’re comfortable.

your mother steps closer, her voice soft. “she’s lucky to have a friend like you, daichi.”

he nervously scratched the back of his neck, the weight of the moment dawning on him as he realized this was the first time meeting your parents. "of course," he managed, a hint of awkwardness tinging his chuckle as it slipped out.

“ah, i’m going to run to the store mrs. l/n. just to get her some remedies for tomorrow morning.” she simply nods with a heartwarming smile.

𓇢𓆸 the following morning

soft morning sunlight filters through the cream-colored curtain, casting a warm glow in the room.

you groan slightly and squint to see daylight once again. your hand lifts, reaching your forehead to pinch the pounding in your head. blinking slowly, you try to piece together the events of the previous night.

as you push yourself up, a wave of dizziness hits, and you groan again, cursing your choice to drink so much.

your eyes catch sight of a bottle of water and a few painkillers on the bedside table, alongside a neatly folded note. curiosity piqued, you reach for the note, recognizing daichi's familiar handwriting.

good morning, y/n. i hope your hangover isn’t too bad. i left some medicine for you. take it easy and rest up. if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. - daichi (xxx-xxx-xxxx)

you read the note twice, a mix of gratitude and embarrassment flooding your senses. memories of the previous night begin to surface—your friends struggling to take you home, running into daichi, him carrying you to your bed.

you cringe inwardly, recalling drunken ramblings and how you almost confessed your feelings.

“dear god…” you whisper to yourself, the reality of your behavior sinking in. “what did i do?”

you flop back onto the pillow, groaning loudly.

“why did it have to be daichi? after all these years, and i act like that?” you cover your face with your hands, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise to your cheeks.

images of daichi’s concerned face, his gentle reassurances, and his steady hands guiding you through your house flood your mind. you remember leaning into him, nuzzling his neck, and calling him "officer daichi" with a teasing cheerfulness.

“why did i do that?!” you mutter, your hand repeatedly hitting your pillow as if that could erase the memories.

your heart races as you recall the moment you almost confessed, your drunken state allowing you to voice the feelings you’ve kept buried for so long; thanking the universe sleep had taken over you beforehand.

“what does he think of me now?” you wonder aloud, anxiety creeping in. “i acted like such an idiot.”

you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. unscrewing the bottle of water, you down the painkillers, hoping they’ll at least take care of the headache. as you do, you glance at the note again, daichi’s words providing a small comfort.

“always helping everyone still,” you whisper to yourself.

you couldn't help but glance over again at the digits scribbled at the end of the note; your heart fluttered once more like a teenager giggling over a crush.

𓇢𓆸 last night

with the small box of headache medicine in hand, he approached the counter, fumbling for his wallet. as he pulled it out, something fell from one of the inner pockets—a small, slightly worn photo. daichi paused, staring at the picture that had slipped out.

the photo was from high school, a candid shot taken by one of their classmates. in it, you were smiling brightly, your eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine happiness. daichi was right beside you, but his gaze wasn’t on the camera; it was on you. his expression was soft, a quiet admiration in his eyes that he had never voiced out loud.

a soft smile tugged at daichi’s lips as he remembered the moment. he could almost hear the laughter of that day, and feel the warmth of your presence beside him. tucking the photo back into his wallet, he felt a pang of nostalgia mixed with something more—a longing that had never quite gone away.

‘you’re finally home’

a surge of emotion washing over him. it was as if he had been waiting all these years, silently holding onto the hope that one day, you'd return.

the weight of unspoken words and hidden glances pressed heavily on his heart.

he was set on making sure you saw him more than just a lingering memory of the past.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

want more?

⤷ masterlist.

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls Chapter 11 1/2

masterpost

“It’s hard to believe that these people aren’t on any warning lists yet,” Jason mumbled to himself at the base of the sidewalk where he’d parked the rental bike. He had his hands in his pockets as he craned his neck upwards, trying to be stoic about the Fenton residence. A van was parked on the street, probably theirs. Weirdly, it had a big canvas draped over it. All he could see were the tires.

The base of the house was an unremarkable brick rectangle, taller than it was long. But the customization job had not been subtle. There was of course the enormous neon sign that Jack Fenton had probably designed. He wondered if he saw Madeline Fenton’s guiding hand in the shitty space-age aesthetic of the hulking metal goliath crouched on top of the brick building.

There was zero percent chance that was legal, which led to the question of why the city officials weren’t enforcing building safety on an obvious hazard.

Jason blew out air and snorted. “This is definitely the place.” He jogged up the unkempt lawn and hit the bell. An alarm started whining inside.

His hackles went up. A hand curled towards a gun, but didn't fully commit.

A joyful whoop came from inside the house. It was quickly followed by a bellowed “Coming!”, and then a huge thud.

Very normal, thanks.

‘Is that really just their doorbell?’ Jason thought, aghast.

The door was wrenched open. “Hello, hello, come in!” A beautiful middle-aged woman was there, looking up only slightly to make eye contact with Jason. She had faint laugh and smile lines.

“Hello,” Jason said, hesitating. “Do you need to finish up in the lab?” He gestured at her outfit, a little unnerved to see protective equipment just out in the open. It made him feel underdressed. It was always a bad idea to be wearing less protection from chemical warfare than someone else in the area. His Gothamite sensibilities considered it both a faux pas and a tactical error.

Madeline Fenton made a flapping hand gesture to blow the idea away. “No, I'm at a good spot!” The grin she gave him was somehow sharklike. “Jeremy, honey, won’t you come in?”

‘Said the spider to the fly,’ his subconscious filled in for some reason.

Jason shook it off, thanked her, and entered the house. Then he drew his gun on the thing that levered out of nowhere to point at him.

Turret. It was a fucking gun turret, in the entryway.

Madeline Fenton let out a cheerful “Huh!” and put her hand on top of the turret. There was a faint beep as she disengaged whatever alarm that had been. “You don’t have any stowaways, do you?”

She was not a good enough actor. He didn’t know what the hell that he meant, but he could hear real tension beneath her cheerful tone. “No, ma’am,” Jason edged. ��Not that I know of.”

There was a pause. It felt a little heavy. Jason slowly holstered his gun, despite the wary suspicion that he actually might need to defend himself.

The moment passed. Dr. Madeline Fenton whirled around and cupped a hand to her face to sweetly shout, “Jack! Honey! Our guest is here!”

Something extremely heavy thudded. The floor actually shook under Jason’s feet from the impact.

The smile on Dr. Madeline Fenton’s face didn’t falter. A chill went up his spine.

‘She has to be on a watchlist. No way. I just didn’t find it.’

He followed her to the living room where she gestured for him to take a seat. A huge man burst through the other door.

“What did they feed you?” Jason asked blankly. “Do they have more of it?” Sure, he’d never fit in his current gear, but Talia had deep pockets for custom armor.

Dr. Jack Fenton had a hearty laugh. The couch creaked when he threw himself on it, but impressively, nothing broke. “Standard stuff growing up I’m afraid,” he said cheerfully. “I feed myself an awful lot of fudge, though! Maybe that’s what did it.”

While he was talking Jason barely noticed Madeline Fenton had slunk off in horrifically perfect silence, like a red-haired Talia. He respected that, but he did not like it.

‘She’s going to be the Doctor to me,’ Jason decided. ‘Jack is just Jack. I’m tired of calling them the same thing.’

“Oh,” Jason pretended to just now notice that someone was gone. He looked around. “I’m sorry, where did Dr. Fenton go?”

“Just getting refreshments!” Jack said cagily. He leaned forward. “Now, Jeremy, son-” he was cut off by a low siren coming from his wrist. He paused. He lifted his hand and pointed it around the room. The noise got louder when he pointed it at Jason.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - The Summer Games BLgin.

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top. Those Greeks did have that reputation for naked dudes rolling around together so I'm declaring it...

BL OLYMPICS!

I'll be passing out metals in various sporting events, as part of the weekly updates through mid August, just for funzies.

July 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Rebound (Weds Gaga) eps 9-10 of 12 - I guess mass murder is nothing next to having to raise funds for your basketball club. There were a lot of water sports in these eps (no not that kind). I’m not complaining. The street BB playoffs were fun. Frank is GOOD. I didn’t know he played. They aren’t using doubles for this. Meanwhile, it’s a bummer this one can’t be a poly romance. 

Winner!

Gold in Handball

for that shower scene in ep 9 (also... ya know, DUNK TANKS)

Balls in hands of all types.

Briefly must chat about that intro/outro music. It's like Thai autotuned Stray Kids. Which means I kinda adore it.

Century of Love (Weds Gaga) eps 5-6 of 10 - I guess he’s had a long time to learn how to fight really really well. This is a fun show. It does occasionally feel like a bunch of gay boys playing dress up. I LIKE P’Third a lot. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be an actual baddie. I’m finding the music a little intrusive in these episodes. I love the deconstructed suits look, and the velvet blazer. Very 90s. The confessions scene was very cute. It’s a good thing Vee is so easy-going, because the last few months of his life have been truly insane. And now he’s queen of the castle? Still working his convenience store job?

I honestly thought we'd just get kisses halfway through not a full on sex scene. But it was very sweet and tender. Appreciated, boys, thanks. However it’s never a good sign when the sex scene is it at the halfway point, it just means there’s gonna be a lot of trauma to come.

(I gotta say every time Daou smiles he actually looks his age.) 

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 4 of 8 - I like them now. I mean as a pair of characters. I wasn’t really sold on the main couple until this episode, and now I’m interested (yes I am shallow). The boy with the glasses is definitely sus. I’m quite drunk, thus I have to say Sailub is the hottest thing on my screen right now. Metas's taste in interior design sucks. OK, that physical therapy session was sexy. I wasn’t sold at first, but now I love this side couple too.

Argh. SailubPon kiss so well. Also COUNTER LIFT!!!! 

Silver in Weightlifting

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 7 of 12 - I’m the one who always says this stuff, but this pair might be the best at relationship heat. Let me try to explain. They are good at putting on screen the kind of NRE, want to bone, just really into each other physically and also connected and loving. It’s the way their bodies always arch towards each other. They’re very comfortable in each other’s space in a way that’s really rare to see out of Any BL country but Taiwan. I think they might be my favorite couple currently active. I don’t know how to put it except that

it looks like they want each other,

it looks like they like each other,

it looks like they’re into each other,

and it looks like they GET each other.

It’s nice to see on screen. The plots/stories/narratives that they're given aren’t doing them any favors, but man they’re a good pair. Meanwhile, was I screaming the whole time don’t rip the sample of the custom piece? Yes I was. But it was still sexy.

Sam getting discovered was fun! Yo is gonna burn his arse good.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 8 of 12 - Okay! Officially boyfriends. I almost like the friendship btw Atom and Mudmee better than the romances. But they all so cute. 

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 4 of 12 - I hate the gf intern so much. I think she is past redemption now - time for death. What is it they say about ADs? they do all the work, for none of the credit but all of the blame.

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - I guess Peak’s dad really is that awful. Jane is the beard? Got it. The show got suddenly quite sweet and complex. Where did that come from? Meanwhile ,Almond + Latte + sex education is awesome. Great trope we rarely get in BL. 

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 7 of 10 - Look, what’s really annoying me is that I am neither upset nor pleased with the show. I like to be driven one way or the other by Meme. Trash watch here. (delayed this week, I can't face it)

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 1-2 of 12 - Out the gate I don’t like it. I don’t really like the teasing thing and the acting is poor. That said, neck kisses in the very first episode do make me happy. So I’m gonna keep watching. As for ep 2, I like the sides, and we have gay brothers trope activated. I also like the paranormal element, it adds some much-needed tension, but it is still a little slow (typical of a pulp).

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 6 of 10 - I like our poor lost puppy slowly figuring out what’s going on. It’s so elegantly done. Also, the the boy begs his quiet seme to SAY something, you know he’s gonna DO something instead. 

I could have done wihtout the pan around the head kiss. We over that, 8 years ago.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Why don’t I like this show? I had to think about it quite a bit. It’s the power differential. I never enjoy it when the character with less power is the one doing the pursuing, it comes off as too desperate or something. In this case he is: from the country, poor, and younger, It just makes Takara’s dismissive attitude and snobbery unpleasant to watch. Also, you know me, =/= obsessive stalker behavior. 

It's airing but...

Bad Guy (Korea YT) - yeah, erm, no thank you.

4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) ep... - Great, a rich boy studying business at uni, suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I try to catch up next week.

I have a source, but I simply didn’t have time to watch it. So sorry. Too much traveling too much BL to keep up with. A perfect conflation of conflicting priorities.

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - it's your funeral (or, more likely, one of the main characters'). You can argue but... statistics. You know my feelings on this matter. MY BLOG, remember?

64.media.tumblr.com

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!!

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Coming Up Next!

7/29 Battle of the Writers (Thai ????) - trailer here, TutorYim return, and while I adore them, I really hope this is better than Middleman's Love. Won't be hard. However: the premise? Ugh. Something something authors fighting - save me. Why don't writers understand that nothing is more boring than writers?

8/4 Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun ????) 10 eps - OMG a uni student who looks too young and a... COP. GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. Please Gaga pick this one up? They made it for US.

8/7 Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Weds ????) 8 eps - office romance around the makeup counter featuring a younger seme and sex by blackmail. I am intrigued. DFTUJ (don't fuck this up, Japan).

8/8 Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs WeTV ) 12 eps - I am so DAMN excited to see Big finally lead a BL. I can't even with this, one of my most anticipated of this year. He's a great kisser ya'll, he's kissed a lot of boys as second lead. I can't WAIT.

8/12 First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) 12 eps - About a singer with stage fright and his timid fan stars Charles (H4 the puppy one) and Michael Chang (the youngster in My Tooth Your Love), plus side couple featuring a Thai actor Jame (Koh in Gen Y) and Liu Min Ting (of Guardian fame). What a damn tean. I can't wait. With thier powers combined!

8/16 The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) ? eps - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something.

8/22 The Paradise of Thorns (Thai movie) theater release - Jeff Satur is back but this does not look like a BL (the gay lover's death is the inciting event). More in Goodbye Mother vein. Looks dark and dramatic. He opposite and extremely well known actor Toey Pongsakorn who has never done gay before.

Addicted Heroin (Thailand adaptation) is also supposed to release this month. GIVE IT TOO MEEEEEE. I don't care about anything else but August back on my screen. It's been almost a decade since he did BL.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

This week's adventures in caption "out of" and "off" are not the same thing. This is an uncomfortable thought.

I'm so tired I'm seeing double. This is all you get.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

Sports in Play (the jokes write themselves) )

Boxing

Breaking

(That's Not) Cricket

Diving (yes, for that)

Fencing (yes, with those)

Handball (exactly what it says, no, read the word.. again)

Rhythmic Gymnastics (obvs)

Squash (snicker)

Surfing

Swimming

Trampoline

Weightlifting

Wrestling

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 7

Part 6

It took Damian the rest of the afternoon to prepare for his trip to Amity Park. Jon helpfully agreed to cover for him, on the promise of a copy of the upcoming Cheese Viking 2 and getting filled in on all the hot Bat gossip afterwards. Wasn’t friendship grand?

Pennyworth thankfully agreed that ‘bonding time’ between the Super Sons was a good use of fall break and even took the time to ‘Prepare some healthy snacks for the young Masters, lest you eat junk food the whole week’. The task also handily distracted the butler while Damian packed the Batwing with all the necessary surveillance equipment he would need and set up the program to spoof his flight data. Damian had no doubt that Father wouldn’t be fooled for long, but with the Bat it was always better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

The flight to Illinois was mercifully uneventful. Damian rappelled off in the middle of the eponymous city Park, then instructed the autopilot to take the plane to a wooded area outside city limits and park there in camouflage mode. Once he was sure his arrival had gone undetected, he changed into civvies and with his backpack full of gear set off in the direction of Fenton Works on foot. In jeans, sneakers, a dark hoodie and a baseball cap he looked like any other kid his age, even if he was out after curfew. Damian made sure to stick to the shadows and ducked behind cover whenever a car passed him.

All in all it took him until the early morning hours to arrive at the correct address. Intellectually, he had known the Fentons operated their workshop out of the family home, but he was in no way prepared for the monstrosity of a building that greeted him. Damian couldn’t help but stop and stare in disbelief.

What had once started out as an ordinary brownstone building had a glaring neon sign out front, proudly proclaiming the company name. Perched precariously on the roof was a gigantic metal structure that looked like a cross between a cartoon UFO and an observatory. There was no way this was legal or sane. If something like this had popped up in Gotham it would have been flagged as a Rogue hideout and bugged to hell and back. Hell, Damian was half tempted to break in immediately to start planting cameras but was held back by the likely presence of a custom security system. Mad scientists were rude like that and Damian didn’t want to tip his hand too early. He would have to at least wait until he was sure the Fentons weren’t at home.

Damian tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and strolled past the building at a fake casual pace. The windows were dark and the building was silent, except for the faint hum of the neon sign. This early on a Saturday morning, the residents were likely fast asleep. He spotted an electric scooter chained up next to the stairs leading up to the entrance and made the deduction that it likely belonged to Daniel. Under the guise of retying his shoelaces, he dropped to one knee and surreptitiously attached a bug to the vehicle. Ideally he would get the opportunity to bug Daniel himself, but for now this would have to do. Hoping that no one had noticed him, Damian continued down the street.

He had researched the area ahead of time and had found an apartment a few buildings down and across the street that was advertised as available for rent and was unoccupied. Breaking in and disabling the home alarm was child’s play, and after making sure he was alone in the apartment, Damian settled in to begin his surveillance.

He pulled the handheld radiation detector out of his backpack and after making sure it was operational he slipped it into his pocket. With no way to boost its range he would have to get pretty close to Daniel with no major obstructions in the way in order to verify if he had been in contact with the marked bills he had slipped Phantom. But Damian was confident in his ability to stay undetected. After all, Daniel had no reason to suspect he was being stalked by a curious Bat.

Damian kept himself occupied by listening to the local radio broadcast over his comm. The hosts sounded like chipper twenty-somethings, excitedly shilling for various local events happening over fall break, in-between shilling for local businesses. Why anyone would want to eat at an establishment called the Nasty Burger was beyond Damian. Whenever they stopped nattering to play actual music it was a blessing even if the appeal of the songs was entirely lost on the young vigilante. Finally, at 8am they had an actual news segment. Most of it was covering major US and global events, nothing Damian hadn’t already heard. Elections, natural disasters, rising tensions in Bialya…

“...and in local news, the City Library has announced that clean-up after last week’s ghost attack is finished, and they will be open at their normal hours on Monday!” the female host said cheerily, as if she was talking about the weather. “As usual, we would like to remind our listeners to keep their third eyes peeled for any ghost sightings! In case of a ghost attack, follow standard protocol and head to your nearest ghost shelter. Thank you! And here’s Mark with sports!”

Damian was flabbergasted. Ghost attack? This city experienced supernatural incursions and treated it like it was a normal occurrence? He’d read that the Fentons were ghost hunters, but he hadn’t thought anyone was taking them seriously! If Amity Park was under attack on a regular basis, how come the Justice League didn’t have a file on the city? Surely the news should have leaked to the outside world by now!

It was rare that Damian was caught so utterly wrong footed. His cursory research into Amity Park had turned up nothing like this! He was itching to get back to the Batcomputer to do a deep dive on the city and its history. Unfortunately, all he had on him was his phone which was ill suited for serious data compilation. At best he could scour local news sites and social media for any hint as to what was going on.

After half an hour of fruitless searching, he gave up in disgust. There was no mention of ghosts anywhere, save for the Fentons’ own website. Yet the news report had been almost blasé about the subject! Something was rotten in the State of Illinois.

All he could do for now was stare out the window at the Fenton’s front porch and hope his quarry made an appearance soon.

At 9.13 AM there was finally movement at the Fenton house. A dark-haired teenager in jeans, a light T-shirt, a backpack and a bicycle helmet bounded down the front steps and unlocked the electric scooter. It was unmistakably Daniel.

Damian hurriedly packed away his things, grabbed his backpack and left the apartment. He made sure to rearm the security system and lock the door, leaving no trace of ever having been there. Of course Damian wasn’t about to pursue his target across the rooftops of an unknown city in broad daylight. He would just have to wait for Daniel to arrive at his destination and follow him there. He retrieved his phone and pulled up the tracking data. It looked like the teen was headed towards the city center.

Damian tuned his comm to the listening device he had planted and set off towards downtown Amity at a light jog. For a while, all he heard was background noise. After about ten minutes, Daniel came to a stop.

“Hey Tucker, ready to go?” That had to be Daniel.

“Hey Danny!” a second male voice answered, “I was just waiting for you. Sam says she’ll meet us at the main entrance of the mall.”

“Sweet. Hopefully we can grab something cool from Game’O’Rama if we beat the rush.”

“You said it, my dude. Come on!”

The tracker resumed its movement. Now that he had a destination, Damian used his phone to call a cab. There couldn’t be that many malls in a city this size.

Daniel and his friend ‘Tucker’ kept up a steady stream of idle chatter on their journey. Damian learned more than he ever wanted to know about the attractive qualities of the female students at their high school, the tediousness of the homework assignments they had received for the week and the reviews of recent horror movie releases. Inconsequential chit chat as far as Damian was concerned. Once the pair arrived at their destination they parked their scooters and were soon out of range of the listening device. Damian cut the transmission and spent the rest of the short cab ride trying to find information on Daniel’s companion. Since they were apparently classmates and he had a first name to go on, it didn’t take long to narrow it down to Tucker Foley. Damian made a mental note to investigate him in depth later.

The mall was moderately busy when he arrived but nowhere near as bad as Gotham. Luckily there was a floorplan displayed at the entrance and it didn’t take Damian long to find the Game’O’Rama store. Predictably, it was dedicated to video games, gaming accessories and memorabilia. A sign in the window announced a major weekend sale, likely what had drawn Daniel and his companions. Damian slipped on a pair of mirrored sunglasses to conceal his eyes and meandered into the store. Wandering between the aisles, pretending to examine the games on offer, it didn’t take him long to find his quarry and Damian got his first good look at the trio.

Daniel was almost a head taller than Damian, slightly paler and with his dark hair mussed up from the scooter ride earlier. His clothes were slightly threadbare, and not the kind that was intentional. His white T-shirt bore a faded NASA logo and his jeans were frayed at the cuffs. He had dark circles under his eyes, though not nearly as bad as Drake got when he was on a case. Nonetheless, for the moment he seemed cheerful and at ease. He was examining the back of a disk case.

“I don’t know Tuck, I’m not much for medieval fantasy,” he said amusedly, “and a lot of these monsters look like ghosts we’ve seen. I get enough of them on a day to day basis, I don’t need them in my video games too.”

Again, this talk of ghosts.

The African American male next to Daniel had to be Tucker Foley. He was just a few inches shorter than Daniel, with his hair in shoulder length dreadlocks partially covered by a red beret. A matching red T-shirt with white Atari logo and baggy camo pants screamed nerd even before you got close enough to notice the black rimmed glasses and the clunky looking device he was tapping away on. Where did he get it from, the middle-ages?

“Look, the reviews are pretty great, and if we avoid everything ghost related what’s even left?” the boy argued, “You can’t let ghosts ruin your fun, man.”

“Tucker’s right, Danny.” the third member of their group chimed in. She was dressed head to toe in black, with a sheer, lacy top, a knee-length skirt, fishnet gloves and stockings and a pair of combat boots. With the thick soles giving her added height, she was almost as tall as Daniel. She wore eerily pale foundation making her dark purple lipstick and eyeshadow pop out even more. She had a small nose stud with a matching purple stone. Her earrings were shaped like spiders dangling from a web and she wore a pentagram necklace. Damian knew some of his schoolmates belonged to the goth subculture, but Gotham Academy’s dress code heavily limited such self-expression on campus. He guessed this girl was either really dedicated to the style or really dedicated to pissing off her parents. Maybe both.This had to be ‘Sam’.

“Besides, if Technus couldn’t ruin gaming for us no one else should either!” she continued.

“Fiiiiine,” Daniel sighed, clearly playing up his reluctance. “but if Amity gets attacked by an army of goblins next I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’!” He double checked the price tag. “Splitsies?”

The girl scoffed and plucked the case from his hand. “I’ll take this one, you can pay for lunch later. Why don’t you two go ahead to Pineapple Republic for those jeans you wanted? I’ll catch up to you.”

“If you’re sure. Thanks Sam!” Daniel leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I guess we’ll see you there.”

“Yeah, thanks Sam.”

“Go on, shoo!” she laughed and headed over to the cash register as the boys left the store. Making a split second decision, Damian grabbed a random game from the shelf and got in line behind Sam. He leaned slightly towards her, pretending to examine the figurines behind the counter and stealthily stuck a bug to her skirt. Now he could listen in on their conversation without having to risk being noticed.

After paying for his purchase he wandered off in the direction the other teens had taken. He would just have to leave the game somewhere ‘accidentally’ at the earliest opportunity. Pretending to check his phone he tuned his comm to the frequency of the new bug. 

“...I think those are still a little short on you.” Sam said amusedly.

“Man, I’m glad I finally got my growth spurt, but having to replace most of my wardrobe is gonna be a pain in the ass!” Daniel complained.

“Look at it this way Danny, this could be your chance to branch out. A whole new style, a whole new you!” Sam countered enthusiastically.

Damian walked towards the source of the signal. He didn’t follow the trio directly into Pineapple Republic, instead heading into the shoe store across from the clothing store. Browsing there would let him keep an eye on the entrance.

“Let me guess, would this style include black, black and more black?” came Foley’s snarky voice.

“Black is timeless, I’ll have you know,” Sam sniffed in mock offense, “and Danny does look good in it. Just try it?”

“I don’t know Sam, I don’t wanna blow my allowance on clothes that don’t feel like me.”

“Oh! We could always try the thrift store, they have plenty of cool stuff! And upcycling is great for the environment.”

“Uh, hard pass,” came the flat reply, “I would like to survive the year with some of my dignity intact, please.”

“Yeah dude, if Dash and his cronies caught wind of Danny going to Goodwill or something they’d never let him live it down.”

“There is nothing wrong with buying second-hand!”

“Says the girl in $500 guaranteed cruelty free designer boots.” Foley shot back.

“That’s different!” Sam sputtered, “And besides, I don’t see why you still chase the approval of those jerks.”

“Easy guys, settle down,” Daniel said placatingly, “Sam, you know it’s different for us. You might be able to brush off Paulina’s snarky comments, but I can’t just brush off Dash trying to rearrange my face. I’d rather not paint an even bigger target on my back.”

Sam gave a loud sigh. “Ugh, stupid high school politics. I can’t wait to graduate.”

“I dunno, if things go according to plan you’ll have to deal with real politics, Ms Future Administrator of the EPA Manson.” Daniel teased.

“You mean Senator Manson.” Foley chimed in.

“Madam President Manson!”

“Stop it guys!” the girl laughed, “I’ll leave the political ass kissing to someone else. I just want to save the planet! But I gotta get my doctorate first.”

“Well if you do end up having to take over the country to do it, there’s one thing to keep in mind,” Foley said sagely, “You can’t be much worse than President Luthor.”

The two replied with fake gagging noises while Foley just snickered.

“But seriously, since you brought up mixing up my style… I was thinking of getting my ears pierced.” Daniel said hesitantly.

“Really? Ooh, do you want studs? Danglers? An industrial?” Sam gushed excitedly.

“Well… aw nuts.” Daniel’s voice was suddenly tense.

“You know what?” Sam rushed out, equally tense, “I think you should go and try these pants on. In the changing room. Right now.”

Damian frowned. What the hell had happened? He glanced out the shop window but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Suddenly, he heard distant screams and the sound of glass breaking. It’s almost like being back in Gotham.

Part 8

[noearchives]

tangible promises

(sanji gives you a little something on your anniversary.)

note: writing this on the bus because inspiration hit me like one. you guys aren't married in this one but boy is he committed!

cw/tags: gender neutral reader, fluff, established relationship.

sanji's spent half a day wandering through the streets, eyes going red from how hard he's been staring at various accessories that reflect the harsh display light into his eyes for hours on end.

he can't believe he's only choosing something out for you now when your anniversary's tomorrow. he curses at himself for being a bad lover and continues walking through the countless shops with his hands in his pockets-- until a sparkly sign with 'RING ENGRAVING SERVICES AVAILABLE' written in bold cursive catches his eye. he makes haste, almost teleporting to the store as he goes through the process of staring at diamonds and gemstones in different shapes once more. the nice lady senses his distress and the opportunity to increase the store's sales, and approaches him with a standard customer service smile.

this is it, sanji beams with a velvet box in hand. he's sure that he'll be scolded by nami if she knew he spent quite the pretty penny for a pair of matching rings, but he doesn't mind if he can see the bright metal glimmering on your pretty finger.

he goes on a full-day date with you afterwards with one hundred roses accompanied with a ‘good morning’ on your lips and a candlelight dinner prepared by none other than the best chef in the world (him).

when you're about to end the night with a kiss, he stops you with a finger on your lips and a hand behind his back. you raise an eyebrow, tilting your head to see what he's hiding, but his fist only closes up more as he tries to suppress his smile. he ponders if he should get on one knee for a split second, but decides it'll be better if he doesn't (for now).

before you could ask what he's hiding from, you, he gives an answer without words by presenting the ruby red box in front of you. when he cracks it open, the rings catch the moonlight and shines into your eyes.

"it's a, uh, promise ring," he mutters, suddenly bashful. "they match." he picks up your ring with two careful fingers, tilting it so the engraved initials can be shown. with your hand in his, he slides the ring on your finger smoothly as the stars smile upon the both of you. when he's done, you spread your fingers out to admire the shiny accessory, pulling him into a breathtaking hug as you squeal. "oh, sanji. i love it, i love it so much!"

you quickly put the matching ring on his finger as well, a quiet promise exchanged between the both of you as it shines on your hands.

when the two part from your embrace, the smile on sanji's lips falters faintly. "i don't know if this is good enough. i mean, you deserve the entire world, and i should've gotten you something more than just a ring, but i-"

"shut up and just kiss me, you big idiot."

[evan-collins90]

Sam Goody stores at Universal CityWalk & Horton Plaza (1993 & 1995)

"The synthesis of three distinct merchandising departments for the new Sam Goody store at the Universal Citywalk exhibits a design of dynamic expression by the Jerde Partnership design team.

The new building sits on the center court of an outdoor shopping mall in Southern California. Representing the three merchandising concepts of Sam Goody, the design pronounces each area through unique and interrelated façades.

The customer enters the Popular Music department through an animated, neon-accented color plaster façade. The entrance to the Classics department and the upstairs Coffee Cafe is between two 40 foot high, 10 foot in diameter Corinthian columns within an interpretative classical façade. A 35 foot high, two-dimensional profile sign depicting King Kong climbing the face of a black and metallic bronze tile building hangs over the entrance to Suncoast Motion Picture Company (video).

The central sales environment is referred to as Backstage, and has the character and atmosphere of a soundstage/studio. The two-story space is defined by upper level catwalks and the destination mezzanine known as the Coffee Cafe. A three-dimensional, walk-through Media Wall features music advertising, photos, oversized images, photo lightboxes, video monitors, projected music videos, reader boards and graphic elements.

Media events are orchestrated throughout the day in an ever-changing environment that depicts the trends of popular music and movies. Weather reports, current events and promotional messages continuously scroll by on the reader boards. In-store performances, CD signings and record promotions bring a sense of "an event" to the store. A live VJ/DJ controls all aspects of the store's music and video media, and interacts with the customers.

On a floating piano-shaped level, the Classics department features a state-of-the-art inventory of classical and jazz selections and creates a controlled, intimate area for the customer with special acoustics, localized sound systems, listening stations and lighting. In the Suncoast Motion Picture Company department, tall video columns accent the environment, supporting the sale of videos and laserdiscs. Interspersed throughout the department are video monitors creating the effect of video confetti.

The Coffee Cafe features a wide variety of interactive listening stations and media experiences. It is intended to be an intimate environment where the customer can pause, enjoy the fare, engage in conversation and take in views of the store as well as the street below through its windows."

Designed by The Jerde Partnership

Scanned from: Stores - Retail Display & Design (1997), Great Store Design 2 (1996), Shops & Boutiques (1994)

[kimuby-am]

Rosie’s Care

Hi, this is my first fan fiction, i hope you can enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it.

English is not my first language, so feel free to DM me any correction.

Title: Rosie’s Care

Pair: Alastor/Rosie, Platonic RadioRose

Summary: Alastor shows up in Rosie’s apartment feeling quite off and circumstances lead to unexpected confessions.

Word count: 4,318

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rosie waved charmingly as her last customer walked out of her emporium, her soft smile revealing how tired she was after a day of work: being the overlord in charge of Cannibal Town wasn’t an easy task, but she always pride herself at the sight of her immaculate city. Despite it being filled with blood thirsty cannibals not a droplet of blood could be seen in the streets, every piece of meet was sourced from her emporium and consumed in the privacy of their fancy houses.

Rosie leaned on the counter for a second before regaining her composure. She took out a keychain from a drawer under the counter. The keychain was a small dried head adorned with roses and beads, a cute little gift given by her first husband when she opened the emporium; the sight of it almost made Rosie think if she were too hard on him when she killed him during a fight over her “role as a wife”. The keychain held a small golden key. Rosie put the small key in to the lock of the front door and before twisting it she glanced at the empty shop, searching for any intruder, then she closed the door and turned the elegant sign on the door from “open” to “closed”. She took the key and put it back on the drawer, letting out a small sigh signaling that her day was finally over.

At the left corner of her shop there’s a spiral staircase that lead to her small apartment over the emporium. One could think that an overlord like her would live in a big mansion, of course money wasn’t a problem, but living alone for the vast majority of time Rosie found herself enjoying much more the small and cozy rooms of this apartment making her rent al her other houses to the new cannibals arriving in hell. Once on top of the small metallic staircase she faces the beautiful wine red door that leads into her apartment, wood carved with roses and elegant patterns. She elegantly took another key from her sleeve held by an elegant ribbon to her wrist.

The inside of her apartment is a triumph of red, white and bordeaux intensified by the reddish hue of the sunset.

She couldn’t even relax for one second that the smallest off sound made her alert, sending shivers down her spine, not quite understanding what could it be. She took off her shoes and not letting out a sound, she approached the noise. The more steps she took the more the sound was clear. It was a song covered in heavy static. She let out a heavy sig in relief, there was only one person she knew that could enter into her house unnoticed and play soothing jazz. “Oh my stars, Alastor!” She chirped amused by the presence of her best friend, adrenaline still running through her veins from the worry she had before. The demon did not respond to her cheerful greeting. She raised an eyebrow in confusion, still approaching the sound coming from the living room. She heard a distinct click and the song changed. Was her friend sleeping? She knew Alastor well, and she remembered from the few times he let himself sleep in front of her that he shuffled through Radio stations during his sleep, mirroring his mood. But this time was different, the static was so strong she could barely hear the songs played, something was a bit off. She wiped away does thoughts as she finally decide to enter the living room: it is a pretty large space with an armchair opposing a small couch both covered in a soft velvety brown fabric, the walls are decorated with an elegant rose themed wallpaper where was hung a painting made by her of a skull with a pretty red flower. From the ceiling hung a terracotta pot from where seem to fall a beautiful green plant with big leaves in stark contrast with the dominating red ambient. In the centre of the room is positioned a red and black carpet resembling a mandala motif, on top of it a small table. The light source of the room is a huge window now covered with thick black curtains that didn’t let even the smallest sunlight ray to seep through it. Fortunately the light from the room she was coming from was enough to let Rosie analyze the scene.

She saw a red hoof coming out from the side of the armchair. She chuckled in amusement as she couldn’t quite understand in what position her friend was lying, but at the same time she couldn’t shake off the thought that something was off. Alastor wasn’t one that lost composure even in front of his best friend.

She finally stepped in front of her friend, a small smile rose in her face as she ate the scene before her with her big empty eyes: the mighty radio demon was crunched on the small brown armchair, the right side of his body was pressed against the armrest where lied his right arm, head tilted to the side resting on his shoulder, pressure creasing his lightly red tinted cheek making him look soft. His right leg was extended on the opposite armrest, while the left leg was folded, his hoof picking out of a small gap between the seat and his other leg, left arm gently rested on his body. His overcoat was hung on the human bone hanger he gifted her when she chose to live in this apartment. His bow tie was untied and his hears were gently pulled behind. Alastor was a monster to everyone that hadn’t had the pleasure to know him, but to Rosie, especially in this moments, he looked rather cute and harmless.

Rosie was looking at him for almost five minutes and when she noticed it she couldn’t help but blush, if Alastor could see this scene he wouldn’t let go the opportunity to joke about it.

With cat like steps she got in to her bedroom.

Rosie’s bedroom is dark and oppressive, walls are covered in wine red wallpaper, the forniture is made in ebony and her queen sized bed is covered in black silk sheets. The room small and crowded is set in a way that makes navigating through ti easy. The bed stands glorious in the centre of the room, at its left there’s a bed side table with a rose shaped lamp and a book on top of it, at its right a desk towered by a big mirror framed with a golden metal giving the illusion of a big virtual space.

The wardrobe stood at the right of the door, modest and filled with sober outfits. Opposing the mirror a big door window, covered in black curtains, that lead to a small balcony from where you can see all Cannibal Town.

She opened a drawer from the wardrobe and took a dark red blanket. Rosie was swinging around her house without making even the slightest sound, trying to not wake up her friend. Once returned in the living room Rosie stood under the sunlight for a moment, admiring Alastor sleeping another time: his soft hair, his immaculate skin and the way his lips curled into a soft smile. Rosie let out a small sigh finding herself watching the demon again with that emotion that didn’t want to leave her; she couldn’t deny she fell in love with Alastor a long time ago and she believed she got past it, but when she looked at him like this she couldn’t shake the sparkle of feeling in her heart.

She opened the carefully folded blanket with a swift and elegant motion, putting it on top of his friend, gently tacking it around his body. Alastor didn’t move while his sleeping brain continued shuffling through various radio stations. She moved behind the armchair caressing the soft velvet with her fingertips, reaching his head. Her fingers were interlaced with his soft locks. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss on top of his head, her lips were gentle and warm; Rosie felt like she could hear the trouble inside the Radio Demon’s head and She hope she could take out some with every little act of affection.

Rosie exhausted by the day and all those emotions tried to walk to her bedroom once more seeking the rest she deserved, but two black shadow tentacles grabbed her e pushed her on top of Alastor who let out a loud squeak like a little fawn. He enveloped her with the blanket she gave him chuckling all along while she was struggling to escape “Alastor, let me go” she let out a little laugh, they were playing. “Ahahah! Never going to happen” he said, but surprisingly Rosie managed to escape Alastor’s grip with a few pulls. Alastor wasn’t the kind of person to let others win so easily even in this kind of silly games, this made Rosie worry even more “dear, is everything all right? I was hoping our little game of prey and predator lasted a little bit longer” she say purposefully mockingly, if she wanted others information she couldn’t let herself show worry for him; “everything is splendid my dear” Alastor dismissed her question rapidly, a red tint was blooming on Alastor’s cheeks. He was panting softly and his forehead looked glistened, even if it was difficult to see due to the lack of light inside the room. A strange worrisome puzzle started to form inside Rosie’s mind. Now it was time to put on a clever play. “Oh Alastor, I’ve missed you sooo much” she said putting on a cheerful facade “let me give you a kiss”, she leaned forward making clear the intention to press a kiss on his forehead and he waited for it with eyes closed ready to savor the moment. Her lips touched his skin as gentle as a feather, she could feel the intense heat coming from the demon and the worry came out full and clear in Rosie’s next words “oh my goodness Alastor your very hot” he lightly chuckled in response ignoring the strong sense of worry in her words “now now Rosie, this is an inappropriate comment to make”, she rolled her eye before replying “you know that’s not what I meant, you clearly have a fever”. Alastor let out a long long sigh shrinking in is chair, his smile gently softening “i’m afraid you’re right my friend, i’m feeling quite off…” Rosie gave him a tender look “and then you came here so no one could see you like this…you know, the Hazbin Hotel is a safe place for you too, maybe if you just let go with them like you do with me-“, he interrupted her “NO Rosie I CAN’T” there was some kind of disperation in is voice, eyes like radio dials ticking away. Rosie stood there in silence while a guilty look appeared on Alastor’s face “I’m sorry, i didn’t want to…it’s complicated, i know i said i was getting accostumed to them, but they aren’t like you…you’re more than a friend to me…we’re like…partners!”. Emotions stroke Rosie’s heart like an arrow and a deep red blush rosed in her cheeks while she was trying to avoid eye contact at every cost but after a moment she regained her composure “Alastor, you flatter me sweetheart” a tinge of sadness in her words “you know, we should really go to sleep, you can stay here if you want”. Alastor let out a light static noise “can i sleep with you?” The sudden question made Rosie blush even more, she knew Alastor for almost a century by now and every now and then he had is affection episodes, but he never suggested to sleep together. “Of course dear” she said softly, offering a hand to him to get up. He took it and got up.

Alastor could feel his head spinning and sight blurring, legs threatening to give up beneath him, so he stood there for a minute before taking the first step toward Rosie’s bedroom. He dropped himself on the bed with all his weight causing it to barely move. “I’ll take an ice bag, maybe it will help you lower your temperature” Rosie said with a gentle smile. He loves her smile, it reminds him of his mother’s. “No please, stay here Rosie” he said, almost whispering, conjuring an ice bag with a small movement of his hand, “sweetie, you should not use you’re powers in this state, just rest please” she said while gently positioning the ice bag on top of head. He chuckled a little bit “i’m not a kid, i’ve been sick other times”, Rosie raised an eyebrow and replid with a smug tgrin on her face “then why you came here? You could’ve picked an empty room if you wanted to hide from your hotel friends”. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks another time, his thoughts swirling in his head while trying to figure out why did he go there on the first place, but thinking of going in any other place, even in his room alone (without her) enveloped his heart with a sense of unease, it didn’t felt right, his reaction to the sickness was pure instinct. He tried to play it ‘cool’ “I just needed a distraction to shake off this fever, nothing more”. Rosie put on an hungry face and a gave him her back while going to the bathroom to change in her nightgown “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m very tired, i won’t provide any ‘distraction’, feel free to leave if this isn’t what you needed” SLAM! She sclosed the door behind her emitting a loud noise that made Alastor’s ears twitch in disconfort, his had bursting from all the thoughts: why he always had to turn everyone down?

At this point he was barey smiling. He put the ice bag on the bedside table and stood up from the bed, legs barely holding his light weight, managing to reach the bathroom door leaning on the walls.

He let his weight drop hitting the door with his back, the impact generating a gentle thud. Then he slid down to the floor. “I’m sorry Rosie…i didn’t mean to offend you” his voice was barely audible, “but you did Alastor” she replied harshly. His head hurt even more from all the noise of the thoughts in his mind: how to apologize with his best friend? Should he say the truth? Should he make up another lie?

Thinking was hard enough at that moment and making up a good lie required a lot of thinking. Another wave of pure guilt hit him even harder then the pounding of his head. For the first time in his afterlife lying wasn’t an option.

He took the biggest breath he could “listen Rosie, i’m really sorry, you mean a lot to me, i know i’m not the best of friends…you’ve always been here when i needed it…but you can’t say the same for me…and then i show up and offend you just to save me from the embarrassment of admitting that i need help, that i don’t want to stay alone…that i want to stay with you…” his heart was racing at this point, moved by a new emotion, one that rose after admitting to himself and her that he wanted to stay with her. The silence was unbearable, at some point the idea that she wasn’t even there, slightly touched his mind.

“Oh dear boy, you’re not a bad friend…i know that it can get hard for you to understand feelings, but i’m glad you said you like my company” she opened the door making Alastor fall on his back, he tried to push himself from the ground, but his energy was completely drained at this point. She leaned down and took him bridal style “shall we go to sleep now?” He nodded lightly with heat crawling to his face “you shouldn’t have left the bad anyway…” Alastor sighed, hi lips curled in to the softest smile ever “i couldn’t let you think i didn’t care about you”. Rosie couldn’t help but smile at this little revelation, of course she knew that Alastor cares about her but she couldn’t deny that her hearts crave reassurance.

Rosie gently dropped Alastor on the bad, that’s when he saw Rosie in her nightgown: a long black silky vest with elegant red hand sew details, it looked almost too good to be kept inside the bedroom, he couldn’t stop thinking of how beautiful his friend looked. “Now now Alastor, what’s with all this staring, i hope you can’t see through clothes, do you?” She said teasingly and Alastor once again could feel pervaded with embarrassment. With a swift movement he turned, back facing Rosie. She raised an eyebrow. She lightly touched his shoulder “my dear, you’re really sensitive and i’m not sure it is the fever’s fault…are you alright Alastor?”, he turned to face Rosie eyes locked to his hands fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt “i find you very beautiful Rosie” his voice was tender and soft.”Is that what made you upset?” She said a little bit confused, he didn’t say anything, eyes still down “never mind…You’re quite handsome too my deer friend” she said softly, cupping his cheek with one hand. After some minutes of silence passed watching the ceiling and caressing his friend’s hair Rosie spoke again “can you not conjure up something more comfortable to wear for the night?” He slowly made a no with his head “i’m afraid i have no energy left, i can barely move”, Rosie looked at him like the next thing she was going to say was illegal “i don’t mind if…you know…if you slept in your underwear…at least you’ll be comfortable-“, “but i don’t want to make you uncomfortable” he interrupted her “i insist Alastor, it’s not like i haven’t seen you in your underwear already”, “context matters more than anything my dear” he said desperately, Rosie had a severe look in her eye “how can you heal from this fiver if you can’t properly rest? You also need to lower your body temperature and all those layers aren’t doing you any favor” he proceed to open his mouth to reply…but she was right, he needed to heal fast to return to the hotel without raising any suspect. He let out another long sigh “ok Rosie, you won, but I can’t do it all myself…would you mind giving me a hand?” She let out a soft chuckle, stopped caressing him and booped his nose “there’s no problem” she could feel her face turning tomato red but couldn’t turn her back to her friend.

She sat next to him and helped him unbutton his shirt and his pants, then she gave him support tu raise enough his bust to take off the shirt and vest. His pants slid off easily. Both sides were embarrassed, friends should not do this things, but they were like no others friends, they were more…but not like Rosie would’ve hoped a long time ago.

They both fell asleep shortly after, the night going smooth like silk as they both were exhausted.

Rosie was the first to wake up, only to find out that Alastor was hugging her. She felt the warmth of his skin on hers, time marked by his gentle breathing. He looked so peaceful and innocent under the soft light of the sunrise seeping through the heavy curtains. Alastor surely was more then a friend to her and she was slowly realizing that; it wasn’t like the crush she had before for him, before knowing he’s ace. That desire that burnt in her was extinguished a long time ago. Now, after almost a century, after various failed marriages, she needed something different, something she can feel only with Alastor, but on the other hand she also feels the need to be open about her feelings for him and this is where doubt threat to suffocate her…how could her friend possibly take her feelings for him? She knew very well how complex he is, how every interaction with others inside his brain is twisted and contorted by the trauma of his past life. Rosie was prepared to keep her feelings a secret for another century at least.

Her introspection was brought to an end by her friend waking up. “Good morning Rosie, did you sleep well?” Rosie had still a serious expression on her face “Good morning, I slept well, how do you feel?” She responded still distracted by her stream of thoughts. Alastor was visibly tired even if he just woke up, his all body feeling heavy like a rock, the only confort coming from the embrace with Rosie that now he was doubting to be well accepted given the serious expression on his friends face. He was about to pull out of the hug, when he felt Rosie embrace him tight. “I cans see your still out of energy dear, don’t worry, i’ll let one of my coworkers open the emporium today so i’ll take care of you”, this was only half the truth, she wanted to take care of Alastor, but she was also taking advantage of his vulnerable state to understand how far she could go, how far she could express her feeling without him running away from her. Despite hi slender and sharp figure Alastor is quite soft and comfortable to hug, his chest is covered in soft fur and his skin his warm and silky smooth. Now that Alastor was shirtless she could even see the scar left from the battle with heaven, the one that she helped stitch and heal; he didn’t talk much about what happend but she could see the pain, the anger, how scared he was after the battle.

“No Rosie, i can’t let you miss your duties form me, i’ll be fine” he said after a while with concerned voice; he couldn’t understand why she even cared that much. “No Alastor, you’re not fine, you’re still weak as a newborn fawn, you’re temperature is still concerning and you can’t even use your magic for the simplest tasks, be real now, how could you even take care of yourself?” Rosie’s voice sounded more concerned and exasperated that she would’ve liked to. The Radio Demon clenched his fists, his eyes grew bigger and and the void within them looked like it could suck out light around them, his irises were bright red against the pitch black of his sclera and his pupils turned into radio dials “why do you care so much Rosie? Why are you always willing to sacrifice everything form me?” His voice was heavily coated in static while he was letting out past memories in to this questions. On the other hand Rosie didn’t even flinch for a second, she knew Alastor wouldn’t never hurt her. She could feel Alastor’s reaction wasn’t caused solely by her previous statement. She embraced him even tighter and let out a sigh as what she was about to say could start an apocalypse, her mind and heart completely flooded with emotions “Alastor, i care because i love you…”, this words carried much more than what you could except between friends and Alastor could feel them piercing through his heart like an arrow and he couldn’t help but stiffen a her ‘confession’ “Rosie, you know….well at least i hope you would’ve understood by now…” he was fighting to let does words come out “i can’t love you like…other man could do…you deserve better than this…” little tears started to form on the corner of his eyes and his smile was barely there. Rosie looked at him with her most tender look, his heart threatening to explode from his friends words “my dear, I know you can’t love me like other mans would…” she took his hands and gave them a gentle squeeze “…i had quite a few husbands in this past century and i had the kind of love your talking about, but that’s not what i need anymore…i need you”. Alastor looked confused his hands tight onto Rosie’s, “why would you need me? I’m not even good as a friend…Rosie, listen…i’ve been in love with you for years but i know i can’t give you what you need…i will never be romantic, i will never have sex with you…i just didn’t want to tight you into this horrible idea of a relationship i have”…he was devastated and could feel his friendship crumble under his confession, why did he confessed? He would have savor another century or more of his friendship with her. His face was lined by tears as his mind rushed with regretful thoughts. Soon his train of thought was stopped by a small kiss on his wet cheek “Dear, i don’t need you to be romantic or to have sex, i understood it wasn’t an option for you a long time ago… i just” a big smile formed into Rosie’s face “i just want to share a stronger connection with you, i want to snuggle and cuddle with you, to return home and spend the rest of the day with you, to take care of you and call you mine”. Alastor was speechless, it was like she could read his deepest needs and put them in to words and soon the sorrow that pervaded his being was gone and a he could feel a warm feeling filling his old heart. He gave her a tender smile while she wiped away his tears from her cheeks “this is all i ever wanted”. As this words settled down in to the room Alastor and Rosie could finally let out the tension with a big warm laugh that filled the entire bedroom and their hearts.

[avatarloverfrfr]

DREAMWALKER SIBLINGS

Chapter III: Memories -> previous[II] Masterlist Summary: Y/n and Jake Sully. Siblings, shipped off into the depths of space to explore the mysterious world of Pandora. Warnings: N/A Word count: 1020

Jake wheeled himself out of the small shack we called home, not bothering to turn back around. "I'm going out." he announced, his voice flat, tired.

"Jake—" Tommy called out, but his words were cut off by the sound of the door slamming closed.

"He's off to the pub, again." I said staring at the holographic images of tigers on the wall. My eyes following their every move, a constant reminder of the wild freedom we could never taste. This was no way to live, trapped in our own home, scraping by on the bearest of means.

"We can't live like this anymore Tommy. This house is the same fucking size as a jail cell." I say turning to him, hoping he would see my desperation, the need for change.

Tommy sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Once I get into the avatar—"

"We'll be dead by the time you come back from your alien excursion, Tommy! We can't wait for you..." I snapped, anger and frustration boiling over. I paced up and down the thin strip of walkway of our cramped home, my thoughts racing.

"I can't do with you today." Tommy said, grabbing his coat, clearly preparing to leave.

"Do what Tommy? Talk about our planet and not some planet light years away?" Could he not see the urgency of our situation? Choosing to be shipped off to another planet like shit is sweet.

He turned to me, eyes hard. "Me going on this "alien excursion" is what is going to make you and Jake rich."

"How would we even know if you're alive Tommy? For all I know you could die as soon as you step out these doors," I shouted, my voice echoing in the small space.

"I guess we won't know Y/n, but at least I'm trying to do something instead of sitting on my ass sulking. Grow up Y/n." he retorted before slamming the door behind him.

I sank into the worn out couch, the weight of his words pressing down on me. Maybe he was right. All I ever did was sulk and think about a past that I barely remembered. After a while, I decided to take a walk around the city, maybe even have a drink or two.

The city is a maze of metal and neon, a contrast to the tiny shack we called home. People bustling about, faces all covered in masks of different sorts, the most popular being animals long extinct, tigers crossing the streets, panda bears walking the side walks, all animals we never stood a chance seeing thanks to those before us. Everyone was trying to escape something, it seemed.

I wandered aimlessly, my thoughts a chaotic mix of anger and sorrow. Eventually I found myself at the end of a alley outside of a dimly lit club. The sign above the exit door flickering intermittently, a barely readable 'exit' shown.

The sound of commotion in the alleyway catches my attention. I look down and see a group of people throwing someone out a building. My heart skips a beat as I squint to see better and recognize the figure—the man they're throwing out, is Jake. Panic surges through me as I realize they've thrown his wheelchair out of his reach, leaving him on the wet floor.

"Candy-ass bitch!" Jake yells, his voice thick with anger and frustration. Without hesitation, I dash into the alley, my pulse pounding in my ears.

As I reach him, Jake makes eye contact with me from the ground, his eyes filled with defiance and resignation. "Punk-ass bitches needed two people to handle one cripple," he says with a bitter laugh.

"Jake you could be seriously injured." I say, kneeling down in the rain beside him. I wrap my coat around the top half of hid body, trying to shield him from the cold downpour.

"They just lost themselves a customer," he mumbles, clearly drunk and rambling.

"Hey Y/n," he continues, his voice softer now, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. Sorry for being such a pain in the ass to you and Tommy. I know you're just trying to help me out."

I feel a lump form in my throat as I listen to his apology. "Jake, you don't need to apologize. We're Sully's, and Sully's stick together." I say sitting down next to him, squeezing his shoulder gently.

We sit there in the rain, the world around us fading into the background. The rain continues to pour, soaking us to the bone, but we don't care. This moment of connection and understanding is worth every drop.

"Remember when we used to switch classes with Tommy during maths class cause he's the only one who understood anything." Jake chuckles, looking at me

"No, I don't, we might be triplets but only you and Tommy could pull that off," I say rolling my eyes " I had to sit there and take the tests like a champ." I say feeling a tang of nostalgia hit.

"I miss those days. Everything seemed simpler." Jake sighs, the weight of his earlier anger and frustration melting away with the breath.

"We were kids," I say softly. "The world was smaller, and our biggest worry was picking out which animal mask we would wear for the day."

Jake nods, his expression suggesting he isn't truly focused on the present. "Sully's stick together..." he lowly mutters to himself.

As we sit in the rain, the world around us quiets. The shared silence is comforting, a reminder that we're not alone in our grief.

The sound of footsteps echoes down the alley. I turn to find two men dressed in black suits staring down at us. "Y/n and Jake Sully? It's about your brother," one of them says, his voice cutting through the rain.

Jake tenses behind me, and I feel a knot of dread in my stomach. "What about him?" I ask, my voice steady despite a feeling of dread gnawing at me.

The man in the suit steps forward, his expression unreadable. "Come with us."

[previous part] [next part 4]

Tag list: @pinkvrydag @neytirismissingtoe @youskawng @tsuteyssyulang @lylalaminated @nonamevenus @ikeyniofthetayrangi @fatimatabintou @pink-sunrise-56

Note: I'm so sorry for the long wait. And for the short chapter mb:(

[mayhem-things]

Y/N starts to work for Euro in Helvete but when the heat between them grows they almost get caught by a customer

tw: slight mentioning of nsfw content

(1329 words)

thanks for 40 followers! It means a lot to me

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In the small town of Oslo, Norway, nestled amidst the cobblestone streets and historic buildings, there was a record shop called "Helvete" Owned by the enigmatic Øystein Aaserth, it was a haven for music enthusiasts seeking solace in the world of vinyl. Øystein had always been passionate about music, and his knowledge was unmatched in the region. He took great pride in his carefully curated collection and longed to share it with someone who could truly appreciate it.

One sunny morning, Y/N, a young and vibrant individual with an immense love for the depths of Norwegian black metal music, found herself wandering the streets of Oslo. Y/N had recently moved to the city, seeking new adventures and a fresh start. Upon noticing the sign which strongly reminded her of the Venom logo belonging to Helvete, she couldn't resist stepping inside. The door chimed as Y/N entered the record shop, greeted by the warm and inviting scent of aging vinyl. She marveled at the neatly arranged rows of records and couldn't help but feel an immediate connection to the place. Lost in the melodies that floated through the air, Y/N didn't notice Øystein's intense gaze as he observed her from behind the counter. He had a way of spotting genuine music lovers, and Y/N's energy resonated deeply with him, differencing her from the other posers who would step into the store from time to time. As Y/N made her way through the aisles, meticulously sorting vinyls and occasionally humming along to a tune, Euro couldn't help but be captivated by her presence. The way her eyes sparkled with excitement, the way her slim fingers danced delicately across the records, it all fascinated him. With a smile on her face she purchased multiple vinyls of Venom, Bathory and Dissection.

She left the store yet the thought of her beauty stayed. To Euro's surprise she came back, purchasing more vinyls.

Days after days she returned, and Y/N became a regular fixture at Helvete, much to Øystein's delight. They would engage in lively discussions about artists, albums, and the magic of music. Their conversations flowed effortlessly, a harmony of shared passions and budding connection.

One evening, as the sun cast a warm glow over the record shop, Euronymous couldn't contain his growing affection any longer. With a gentle smile, he approached Y/N, their eyes meeting in a moment of anticipation.

"You know,"

he began, his voice filled with vulnerability,

"I've been searching for an employee for this place. I've been searching for someone who understands the profound impact music can have on our lives. Would you like to work for me?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the unexpected offer, her gaze locked with Øystein's. Unable to contain her excitement, she eagerly accepted, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over her.

As Y/N began her new role at Helvete, she found herself immersed in a world of musical enchantment. Together with Euronymous, they spent countless hours organizing the records, discussing rare finds, and delving into the depths of the underground music scene. The more they worked side by side, the more they discovered the profound connection they shared.In the quiet moments between customers and the sound of vinyl spinning, Euronymous and Y/N engaged in deep conversations about their shared love for music, their dreams, and the mysteries of life such as the depths of satanism and the true evil hungering inside them.

Their thoughts intertwined effortlessly, forming a tapestry of understanding and intimacy.

As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, their relationship deepened. They became each other's confidants, trusting one another with their secrets and vulnerabilities. In the hallowed space of Helvete, their bond evolved beyond that of colleagues; it became a friendship forged in the fire of their shared passion.Yet, amidst the rhythmic beats of their growing friendship, a subtle undercurrent of something more began to surface. A flicker of attraction danced between them, both aware of the unspoken desires that lingered in their shared glances and lingering touches.

The chemistry that had sparked from their initial encounter continued to simmer, yearning to be explored.

One evening, after the shop had closed its doors, Euronymous and Y/N found themselves alone, surrounded by the echoes of music. In the soft glow of the dim lights, Euronymous looked into Y/N's eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. "Y/N, there's something, well uhh, fuck it" He uttered as he couldnt find the right words to admit to his feelings. In the end the instinct overtook and consumed him. As a result he grabbed the back of her head , bringing her lips up to his. Y/N's heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. The kiss hung in the air, pulsating with anticipation. With a mix of vulnerability and determination, she reached out, her hand finding Euronymous's, their fingers intertwining. while giving  in to his lips, leaning in to deepen the intimacy they just commited to.In that moment, the barriers between them dissolved, and they surrendered to the undeniable chemistry that had simmered beneath the surface. Their lips met in a passionate kiss once again, igniting a fire that burned brighter than any record on the shelves. The world around them faded away as they explored the depths of their desire, their souls intertwining like a harmonious melody.

In that moment, the boundaries of Helvete blurred, and the music that surrounded them served as the backdrop to their love story.

As Øystein and Y/N shared an intense and passionate kiss after another, their connection grew stronger with each passing moment. Lost in the heat of the moment, Y/N's back accidentally bumped into one of the shelves in the vinyl store. The records rattled and shifted, momentarily breaking the spell of their embrace. But the interruption did little to deter their desire. Ignoring the commotion they had caused, their lips found each other once again, fueled by an undeniable chemistry that electrified the air around them. Her arms found their way behind his neck, pulling him closer, feeling  his breath against her soft skin. The world outside ceased to exist as they surrendered themselves to the intoxicating dance of their intertwined souls. Euronymous couldn't help but slide down his cold slender hand down her torso, finding it's way under her shirt. Y/N froze as she felt his hand finding place at her left breast, drawing circles around her nipple. It gave Y/N goosebumps and shivers found their way down her spine. The action caused both of them to feel more aroused and their longing just fueled with lust even more with each passing moment.

However, just as their passion reached its peak, the sound of the door chime echoed through the shop, announcing the arrival of an unsuspecting customer. Startled, Øystein and Y/N quickly broke apart, their faces flushed with a mixture of desire and embarrassment.T 

he customer, a middle-aged man with a bemused expression, walked in and glanced around, oblivious to the momentary indiscretion. Øystein, the consummate professional, composed himself and greeted the customer, while Y/N attempted to regain their composure.

As the customer browsed the shelves, Øystein and Y/N exchanged nervous glances, their hearts still racing from the intensity of their kiss. They realized they needed to act quickly to avoid any suspicion. Y/N discreetly adjusted her clothing, smoothing out the creases and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. With a newfound resolve, she joined Euro at the counter, ensuring that their actions betrayed nothing of their intimate encounter. The customer, seemingly unaware of the charged atmosphere, made a few purchases and left the shop, leaving Øystein and Y/N alone once again. 

As the door closed behind the departing customer, a shared sense of relief washed over them. They exchanged a knowing smile, a silent acknowledgement of the powerful connection they had just experienced. It was a moment they would cherish, a memory woven into the fabric of their budding romance.

With a renewed sense of anticipation, Øystein and Y/N resumed their duties in the record shop, their fingers delicately handling the vinyls with a newfound tenderness. Their gaze lingered upon each other, a silent promise of more intimate moments to come, as they continued to explore the melodies of both music and love in the enchanting space of Helvete.

[nestedneons]

By Sandu

Prompt:

"Closeup architecture Minimalist night rain busy city scene floating granite ship space dock, azzuro amber forest, scifi wild, glass and steel industrial shiny metallic space station complex architecture into deep cloud environment, volumetric light, hot engines, huge air polygonal intake gates with shutters, living pastel color pods towering skyscrapers at cliff edge, jet era shapes, The 5th element，The Matrix，Craig Mullins，Syd Mead, eerie Sandu Baciu style, photography award, ultra realistic, wide angle, high detail, volumetric light at noon, Trending on artstation, Unreal engine hyper realistic photography award magazine cover -s 222"

By Sandu

Prompt:

Mid day street scene futuristic asian market neon signs light strips Blade Runner rain pastel neon AR displays full body robot on plastic transpatent pastel clothes elegant white shinny ski jet jacket wet android police decals and stickers in pastel ski jaket scifi pockets zippers, walking american flag in space shuttele cockpit cap concept art basic droid blade runner rogue one, bokeh giant logo on chest, mecha pulp art humanoid robot schematics prints elegant ultra sci - fi robots droids fashion design, ultra modern scifi look, custom gorgeous inca wood inlay pulp art style elegant eerie sandu baciu brush painting comcept art blade runner style --s 222

[anna-hawk]

Red Blossom

Based on a deliciously hot fanart by @nkeiiin, whose art never stops inspiring me 🧡🧡🧡

Frank Castle x Matt Murdock

Summary: Frank Castle has an auto repair shop next to flower shop owner Matt Murdock. Frank finds himself regularly observing the florist moving easily through his plants and flowers. They haven't talked a lot, but after they mutually help each other out, they slowly get closer.

Rating: E 🔞 // Status: 6/6 // Current WC: 26,9k

Tags and warnings: Alternate Universe – No powers, Flower shop AU, Mechanic!Frank, Florist!Matt, slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff, explicit content, semi-public sex

Read it on AO3

Excerpt:

Frank was sitting at his desk in the manager’s office, and taking a long drag from his mug of coffee while he browsed through the more urgent invoices he had to send out. A loud, metal sound coming from outside his repair shop had him lifting his head and turning it towards the source of the noise. His office’s window was giving onto the corner of the narrow alley running to one side of his building. Right next to Frank’s shop and across that alley, was a flower shop, where Frank was currently watching a man in the process of rolling up the rolling shutters. Frank checked the time on his wristwatch and smiled to himself; 7.30 on the dot. The flower shop owner always arrived at the same time, right on time, five times a week. Since he tended to get to work before 7AM on most days, Frank had had the time to notice the ritual of his neighbor in the six months since he’d opened the repair shop in Hell’s Kitchen. During that time, they had exchanged a few quick words, but Frank hadn’t found out much more about him, both of them busy with their respective jobs. He knew the obvious, like his name, since it was written underneath the shop name on the storefront, that he was punctual, and most of all, that he was blind. The latter information was something that had Frank speechless whenever he saw Matt Murdock gracefully navigating the flower displays outside the shop, a large pot or vase in each arm, or showing his customers to this or that plant and flower, with no sign of the white cane he used when he arrived or left. 

After outgrowing his previous auto repair shop in Queens and opening this one right next to a florist, Frank had expected Murdock to complain about the noise and the smells. Frank had walked up to the flower shop a couple of days after they’d opened up for business, to introduce himself and excuse any future racket. Murdock had smiled lightly and waved away Frank’s concern, but Frank had still waited for the other shoe to drop. The street they were sitting on was rather busy, meaning that Frank’s shop wasn’t the one making the most noise, but the place he’d bought used to be a row of three garages and caused minimal disturbance. Murdock had never said anything, however. He’d even gifted them a small potted plant a few weeks in. The plant was now sitting in Frank’s office and one of his employees was taking care of it because Frank had no idea how to look after anything green.