#THANK YOU AGAIN ANON ^^

[dragon-fly34]

so do you have a headcanon that peach and Pauline are Mario’s wives

In fact, the two of them would be like Mario's girlfriends, I kind of imagine him saving them both and then they kiss the plumber and of course he blushes 🤭

But now that you said it, you could even give me some ideas, besides Peach and Pauline as their wives, I would put Geno together (I ship him a lot with Mario), then it would be a plumber and his two girlfriends and a boyfriend, who lucky plumber 🌟

I also like to think that Peach and Pauline have a small rivalry, but they are still great friends, due to Mario's attention. So sometimes it's difficult for Mario.

Good but thanks for the ask anon, if you want you can keep sending more asks like this, they are wonderful.

[waveoftheocean]

do you fw superbat?

just a little 😊

[lyknest]

i think being a little in love with your friends is crucial. (x)

ThamePo Heart That Skips a Beat (2024)

[choccy-milky]

Pls I beg Clora wearing only Seb’s shirt

she just can't wear it if she plans on getting anything done😇

[holy-sweetsour-milk]

[emry-stars-art]

Can I be cheeky and ask for some more tiny jellyfish Neil? I love him so much. In my pocket.

In your pocket!

[theorist-fox]

simon and tits anon from the other day here (forehead kiss received and reciprocated mwah)

anyway more simon and boob thoughts-

those milkmaid/bustier dresses that are coming in to fashion? he’s obsessed, goes shopping with you to fill your wardrobe with them for the summer. especially loves the ones with the ties on the top so he can just pull one string loose to busy his mouth while his hands feel how nice your body is in the corset. goes feral when you don’t wear a bra/pasties with them, but will squeeze your boobs any chance he gets before going on with his business.

when he just needs a quick release and you’re not necessarily in the mood for a fuck, just offer him a tit and let him do the rest. and how can you deny him? cock in hand, stroking in an urgent rhythm while sucking at your nipple, his grunts and moans vibrating through you… even better when he finishes, his hand painted white but still suckling away as his heart rate steadies again. sucking on your nipples is his foreplay, main event, and aftercare all in one.

a big fan of laying himself on top of your while you’re stretched on the bed or on the sofa. pushes your (his) shirt up enough to shove his head inside of it too, lips finding your nipple before using you as a pillow. likes how the shirt surrounds him and makes him feel enclosed, there’s no better place than being trapped against you, all warm and cosy. likes when you pet his head over the fabric, fingers twitching when he knows it’s starting to feel a little too good for you. he has also fallen asleep like this, only to wake up and throw a lethal glare at you when you try to pry him off.

CW: smut, simon with an oral fixation and his mouth stuffed full of your tits 🤩

sucking on your nipples is his foreplay, main event, and aftercare all in one.

You're so right.

And he likes it for several reasons, nasty ones and whatnot—one of these, though, is because you might like it even more.

Because Simon loves it when you scream, when you babble nonsensically as he ploughs his dick into you. He loves to hear you moan his name, fist the sheets pleading for mercy you don't truly want, or claw at his back until nails paint him red—lovely addition to the knotted lines, jagged and ugly, left by much crueller hands.

But hell—does he love it when you're quieter, too. 

When he has you straddling his lap, fingers riding the shirt up your chest. When his hands come to cup your breasts, eyes glued to the shivers that rise in waves on your skin. 

When his mouth languidly lands on your breastbone, open wide, tongue tasting where the bone is harder until it reaches the cashmere flesh cradled in his palms.

Looks up at the pinch of your brows when his lips part around your nipple. Cock chubbed when your mouth yields soft moans that are barely audible unless he perks his ears for it. 

The grind of your hips is instinctive when he starts to suckle, the pain in his shoulders delightful when your nails almost draw blood in the mere intent of finding some balance.

Simon could easily cum in his briefs when you start dragging the wetness lining your panties against the stiff cock tenting his jeans. When the knot of your clit catches his swollen head, scratching against the zipper, and the muscles in your neck go limp—mouth pressed to the crown of his head, breath blowing staggered into his hair. 

Sends shivers down his neck, running in pinpricks down to his tailbone.

You can ride him all day baby. He'll get hard and cum back to back, spill all over himself until his stomach hurts from clenching, whines muffled by the fat still filling his mouth.

As long as you keep your chest close and your moans breathy. As long as you keep cumming too—until you've soaked the denim, until you're wet enough for him to finally slide home.

[intotheelliwoods]

Poptart has carpal tunnel? Well damn. Have fun learning to pick stuff up with your feet PT! /j

Last resort is asking Sprout to carry shit for you <3

And for the record can I just say, I am the kind of person who loves opening lower kitchen cabinets with my feet? Is that weird to admit?

[ghoulishhx]

Hey queen!! ive just re-read heart eyes for the billionth time and was wondering if we could get a part two? (frank saying “show me” has genuinely been the only thing on my mind for the last few days)

anyways your writing is so so good and i hope you have a wonderful day/ night :))

you're not alone in that omg, i've been thinking about the "show me" since i wrote it lmao thank you for requesting a pt 2!!

18+ MDNI !!

part 1 - heart eyes

My Masterlist!

──── ୨୧ ────

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: SMUTTT, pillow humping, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, praise, choking, unprotected p in v sex (dont do this irl please), dirty talk, frank talks you through it

Wordcount: 1.7k

──── ୨୧ ────

✦ show me

“So, ya hump ya pillow thinkin’ of me, huh?”

“I do baby, while wearing nothing but your shirt too.” you taunt, climbing up to your feet. He groans at your confession, eyes rolling to the back of his head imagining you do this. You go to walk to the bathroom to clean yourself off, but he halts your attempts by grabbing your wrist and pulling you down to his eye level. He places his hand to your face, angling you to meet his gaze.

“Show me.”

His request stuns you, his eyes transfixed on your blushing face as he pulls you down lower to him. His chest rapidly rises and falls, jaw ticks and his eyes are void of all colour, his pupils lust blown. You bite your lip and grin at your boyfriend.

“You wanna watch me get myself off, Frankie?”

“More than anythin’ sweet thing. Want ya to give me a show.” he devilishly grins, reaching behind him to grab one of his pillows.

“Want me in your shirt too?” you wink, reaching down to remove your tank top and shimmy yourself from your sleep shorts. Intent on giving him the show of his life, you slowly bend down in front of him to retrieve his previously discarded shirt. He whistles through his teeth at the view, subduing a groan he feels crawling up his neck. He can’t help but reach out, roughly kneading the fleshy dough of your ass as you wiggle your hips in front of him.

“Tryna kill me off babydoll?” he grumbles, fist full of your ass.

“Haven’t even started yet, Frank.” you can’t help but giggle, his leaking cock already hardening once more as if he didn’t just get milked dry mere minutes ago.

“Then hurry along sweet thing, ain’t got all day.” he slaps your ass, the skin immediately reddening as he lets out a hearty laugh. You yelp, feeling even more arousal flood in your panties.

“Patience Frankie, ‘m getting there.” you pull his shirt over you, the material hugging your curves just right, your bare ass wearing only thin, lacy black panties peeking from the hem. You reach down and place a kiss on Frank’s forehead, climbing past him and situating yourself on his pillow. 

The moment you lower your soaked core makes contact with the plush of his pillow, you bite your lip. 

“Thas it doll, make y’self feel good f’me yeah?” he climbs to the back of the bed, leaning against the headboard getting comfy. You shoot him a smile as you begin to rock your hips back and forth. The whimpers you let out send more blood right to his cock, impossibly hardening his member. 

The sensation of your slick cunt rubbing so deliciously against the fabric, your panties getting caught around your bundle of nerves, Frank’s eyes bearing into you as he begins slowly touching himself makes you more turned on than you ever have been before.

Frank hums appreciatively at the sight before him,

“Look at you baby, my needy fuckin’ girl. Attagirl honey, just like that.” his eyes don’t leave you for a second, relishing in the way you’re coming undone for him before his very eyes. 

“Mhm.. feels.. Feel s’good Frankie fuck.” your hand travels to your clothed breast, tugging and squeezing at your hardened bud.

“Say m’name again, pretty girl. You tell me who’s makin’ ya feel good hm? Who’s doin’ it for ya baby?” he asks breathily, steadily pumping his cock in front of you, while you hump his pillow desperately. 

“Y-you Frank.. All you shit only you.” you’re whining at this point, so desperate for your own release. Just watching him so attentive to every action, every thrust of your hips against the pillow, you know he’s getting just as much pleasure as you are just from watching. 

“Damn right darlin’. M’name sounds so pretty comin’ from your lips sweet girl. Ya gonna cum for me now?” he reaches forward, shoving his thumb in your opened mouth. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, making your body jerk. You’re so addicted to his touch, his taste. No matter how much you try, your orgasm isn’t coming. You place both of your hands on the pillow, steadying yourself as you hopelessly grind down harshly, taking his thumb deep down your throat.

“C-can’t Frankie.. I need.. Need you.” you lift your hands up, reaching for him. He chuckles at your attempts, maneuvering his fingers under your chin, digit still between your lips. Your heart eyes meet his,

“Aww my poor girl, can’t get off without m’help huh? Need your Frankie hmm?” he teases, enjoying how desperate you are for him, relishing in your needy whines and moans of his name.

“I do.. Please Frank. Need you to touch me.” you take his thumb as deep as you can, eliciting a gag from the depth of your throat. His cock twitches at the sensation, groaning at the feeling. He was just as needy for you as you were him, yet he wanted to keep teasing you.

“C’mon baby, you’re almost there. You can do it sweetheart.” he coos, inching closer to you, placing his lips on the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin hoping this will aid the cause. It’s evident it does, feeling his hot mouth on your neck makes your clit throb. He takes ahold of your waist, guiding you across the pillow while he suckles on the crook of your neck, whispering praise and sweet nothings in your ear. It’s not long before his touch leads you to ecstasy, you see stars as you finally get the pleasure you’ve been chasing. You can’t help but grab the hem of his shirt you’re wearing and bunch it up above your chest, exposing your tits to him. He moans at their release.

“Attafuckingirl doll, knew ya could do it. Shit, that's it. Let it all out f’me” he whispers, pulling you into a bruising kiss. You moan into his mouth as you reach down to his throbbing cock, softly pumping him as you continue riding the pillow, extending your orgasm for as long as you could muster. Frank lets out a primal growl as he feels your touch where he needs it most, he loses all control as he pulls you off of the pillow and into his lap.

“Watchin’ ya ride my pillow made me jealous princess, wanna feel it for m’self now, ok?” he grunts as he glides your soaked core against his cock, he can’t help but moan feeling how wet you are, your juices painting him. You whine at the overstimulation of his tip touching your clit, nudging it as he gathers your slick as lube. He lies back onto the bed as you hover above him, pushing his girth inside of you. The stretch makes you wince, his thickness always shocks you whenever he first pushes inside. The pain so sinfully delicious. 

“You can take it doll, tight squeeze.. Fuck that’s it.” his head falls back against the bed as he fully sheathed himself inside of you, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. You adjust to the position, the feeling of being so full required you to take a moment before moving. 

“Fuck Frankie.. You’re so deep ohmygod-” you’re cut off as he begins thrusting slowly inside of you, his patience gone out the window. He needs you, and he needs you now. You rest your hands on his chest, stabilising yourself as you grind down on his cock, matching his movements as he bounces off of your sweet spot. You’re both moaning messes at this point, being so pent up and desperate for one another.

“So fuckin’ tight baby, like you were made f’me. Made to take my fuckin’ cock.” he groans, wrapping a hand around your neck as his pace hastens, squeezing gently on your pressure points. The feeling is dizzying, being fucked so hard the feeling of his hands around you only elevates your pleasure.

“Takin’ me so well doll, my dirty fuckin’ girl.” he slams into you, the room filled with nothing but the sounds of your shared moans and your sweaty skin slapping against each other.

“Fuck Frank ‘m so close please.. Don’t stop oh my god right there.. ohmygodohmygod fuck-” your moans are borderline pornographic as you raise his shirt over your chest once more to gain access to your nipples, about to cum for the second time tonight. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, but Frank’s voice brings you back down to earth.

‘Eyes on me baby, wanna watch you fall apart. Cum f’me doll.” he groans as your eyes meet his, feeling like he was close now himself. You walls clamp around him as you milk him dry, juices flowing out of you as you cum hard around him. The force of your orgasm sends his cock out of you, followed by a stream of squirt all over his toned stomach. He elongates the stream, teasing the head of his dick along your clit, the juices coating him fully as he plunges him back inside of you. 

He flips your body over onto your back and takes both of your wrists with one of his large calloused hands, pinning them above your head. He relentlessly slams himself inside of you, pace beginning to falter as he was on the edge.

“Fill me up Frankie.. Please. I wanna feel you.” you whine, voice soft and intoxicating. Your words push him over as he spills his hot sticky seed inside of you, painting your tender walls white. He practically whimpers as his cock twitches and empties inside of you, marking you as his.

He collapses on top of you, moving to his side as he pulls you into his embrace, rubbing comforting circles along your shoulder with his fingers. You hum in his arms, dazed and cockdrunk.

“So fuckin’ beautiful, y’know that doll?” he softly speaks as he kisses the top of your head. “All mine. All fuckin’ mine.” he squeezes you hard, you can’t help but giggle to yourself as you feel his sticky stomach on yours, evidence of your orgasm.

“All yours Frankie, only yours.”

──── ୨୧ ────

a/n: i can't stop thinking ab frank in the ddba finale. he's rotting my brain i need him

my inbox is open!

[xxplastic-cubexx]

your movie charles art gives me cuteness aggression

obsessed with getting these asks back to back and yet they both hold some truth i think ...... thank you very much everyone ....

[2aceofspades]

24, you pick who. There are definitely a few people who come to mind easily, but I want to see what you think!

24.) "Unless you ask me not to in the next five seconds, I'm going to hug you."

I won't even lie, I struggled with this one for whatever reason. But! I gave it my best shot 🙌✨

TW: Eye Strain/Bright Colors

|

|

Thank you for your submission! 🙏🌟

(:

[comatosebunny09]

I had a thought because you wrote about making out with Sylus an the rain and now it’s all I can think about

Sorry, not sorry. 😅😅😅

Can you tell I fantasize about it a lot? Rain is very symbolic to me. New beginnings, washing away old sins, providing cover for things we want to hide. Can symbolize happy or sad times. Ever since Sylus’ Lost Oasis card, I’ve been obsessed with seeing him with wet hair, too. I still melt when I reflect on that card.

Imagine this hulk of a man who’s all shoulders and danger, crowding you against the wall outside a mom-and-pop restaurant under its tattered awning, trying to shield you from the downpour. But it’s fruitless because your clothes are already sticking to you, and rain’s weighing your lashes down, and you’re freezing. But you’re laughing all breathless because you didn’t anticipate the weather shifting so abruptly, so you ran to the nearest structure for shelter like two kids about to get scolded by their mother.

When you’re this close, you notice everything. How warm he is. The pressure of his body even though he’s not pushing against you. How he smells, his warm musk intermingled with cologne and petrichor. Did he always have dimples? Were his lashes always this pretty and grey and full? Did his eyes always smolder like exhaling flames? Were his lips always this pink? Supple? Inviting?

The atmosphere shifts as his eyes fall to your mouth. Cars occasionally ease by, disturbing the puddles on the street. A pedestrian or two runs past, cursing and seeking refuge from the rain. Music from inside the restaurant thumps beneath your back pressed against the textured wall, but it doesn’t contend with the wild cadence of your heartbeat. Your pulse.

You want to kiss him so bad. You both want to kiss each other, the ache having plagued you both for what feels like eons. His gaze flits back up to study your eyes. He’s wordlessly asking for something. Permission. Offering you an out in case this isn’t what you want. Your breath corks in your chest. You’ll be more upset if he doesn’t kiss you right here and now.

You’re rarely one to initiate. But today, you make an exception. You’re moving on autopilot. Driven by desire alone as you curl your fingers in the collar of his shirt. Stand on tippy-toe, and he angles his neck to meet you the rest of the way, his massive hands perched on either side of your torso to keep from crushing you.

Your eyes slide shut as your mouths meet, and the world falls away. He sighs something barely-there and anguished as he kisses you. Something relieved. Like it’s been such a burden to hold himself back. To reel himself in. Can you blame him? You’re his Kryptonite. Make his chest all tight, and his heart skips a beat—all the cliches, all those love songs making sense.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and he draws you closer until your body molds to his. Only the two of you seem to exist as the rain patterns the ground around you, thunder stirring in the distance to symbolize the shift in your relationship.

[post-it-notes7]

Your tags on the Star Warrior senses post about being able write incomprehensible paragraphs on the subject have me so interested in what you have to say! Your world building is so intriguing and I’d love to know more if you were ever interested in the ramble :)

Ahah thank you anon, I'll take the opportunity then! Better buckle in, folks.

It's been quite a while since I've touched the subject, so I'll start by defining what makes a star warrior! Star warriors are essentially "chosen" by some inexplicable force upon creation, there's no way to really become a one. You're either born a star warrior, or you aren't. There isn't a choice in the matter.

Characteristically, star warriors tend to possess a strong sense of intuition, which often guides them towards where they are needed the most. The first ones were solitary warriors, harkening out alone to fight in areas struggling under Nightmare's influence; those that came after would continue to follow this example for many, many years—until the efforts of a one Sir Arthur and the Galaxy Soldier Army. By combining their strengths together after centuries of fighting alone, Arthur began to pose star warriors as a genuine threat to NME once more. His is army encompasses not just them, but anyone willing to fight. Though, star warriors are generally placed on the front lines, and are often of a higher rank.

Now, we get to some of the more direct traits tied to being a star warrior, both old a new. Centuries ago, the original proto-star warriors were something of powerhouses, being able to summon and wield fabled weapons long since left behind, and having possessed warpstars they could call upon to aid them. They were some of the only forces capable of standing up to Nightmare, who had only just begun his rise to power, and was looking to cement it as the empire it would become.

This also made these flashy proto-star warriors very obviously a threat, very easy to track down, and very possible for Nightmare to snuff out when concentrating all of his forces upon them, striking them down one by one. This cycle continued, until the power of these warriors was so thinly spread out that it was no longer possible for Nightmare to easily find them, and at that point, he had done enough damage that he no longer bothered to. It was a rough time.

As a result, present-day star warriors are largely in the dark about the extent of their abilities. Traits manifest differently from warrior to warrior, though a few commonalities remain between them.

Most star warriors can sense others like them upon first meeting, and most can sense when a demon beast is nearby. Some demon beasts can also sense them.

Present-day star warriors have retained their affinity for warpstars, but due to Nightmare's efforts, genuine warpstars are few and far between. Still, they tend to have a natural gift for piloting starships and figuring out other means of travel.

Star warriors have a notably accelerated rate of healing, and a higher resistance to the negative effects and abilities of an average demon beast. (However, certain demon beasts, like Mumbies, can override this, as they were specifically crafted to hunt and kill star warriors, at the cost of ignoring anyone who is not.)

They have been known to perform "miracles" in the darkest of hours, achieving feats that are seemingly impossible to account for and often regarded as only old fables. Stories tell of planetary collisions prevented, forgotten wishes bestowed, of luck, strength, will, and always, at the end, great sacrifice.

Some star warriors will manifest one or two of these traits very strongly. For example, Falspar, and his ability to sense other warriors with great deal of accuracy. Sometimes new traits of a similar vein can appear, such as MK's ability to mentally catalogue new demon beasts only at a glance. Having several strong traits remains a rarity, as too much concentrated power risks drawing Nightmare's attention once more.

And lastly, as a little tidbit, any modern-era puffball is likely to be a star warrior, by virtue of their species being highly adaptable to the galaxy's needs! However, puffballs from the ancient, pre-Nightmare period (like Galacta Knight) are not, and could not have been star warriors, as star warriors did not exist before Nightmare's reign. Due to this later development, Nightmare attempted to eradicate puffballs from Gamble Galaxy several times, until their species forcibly adapted into becoming the wingless, non-threatening, and more "average" version that they are today.

Though I wouldn't let it fool you.

[puck-luck]

Thinking. So... SO many thoughts

[silkythewriter]

Hello! Can I request alastor x reader where the two were married while they were alive, but reader died via illness or something and went to hell (though they never partaked in the cannibalism) and the reunite in hell?

“I'll love you 'til I'm dead”

Warning!: Angst, but eventually fluff! A bit of OOC since I haven’t written in awhile.. (.,.)💧

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note: LONGGGGG TIME NO SEE, HIYA! IM SO SORRY FOR MY HIATUS OF SORTS BUT I FELT LIKE WRITING SUM SMALL ♡´･ᴗ･`♡ I apologize!, I hope you guys enjoy and I’m so sorry for disagreeing yet again!.

Summary!: Spouse! Reader dying via sickness, but reuniting with alastor in hell.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Louise (Louise)

I'll love you 'til I'm dead

Louise (Louise)

Not even if she likes the way you dance

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

First of all, he cherished you to the fullest content. As stuck up as he seems to be smile and all, he was in desperate need of support and attention. And you supplying both of those was all he needed even if he didn’t say out loud the tender touches and moments you both shared alone was enough to tell you everything.

Your relationship was nothing less then sweet and tender, and depending if you knew of his..ahem..little side hobby, it was innocent as well!

He cared for you so deeply, so desperately, to the point where you became his tie to humanity. Of course he knew how to play a role of a sane man, but even then he needed you to tie him to the small humanity and sanity he had.

Although not a big fan of physical affection himself he would in private of course, indulge in your soft touches, and hold. He and there he may quietly slip next to you just so you could softly run you fingers across his skin.

But of course the unviable happen, as the world ripped him of what he held so dear. Maybe as a punishment for his sins and misdeeds, or simply because it could.

Of course in the 30’s medicine was far from advanced, not only that but expensive. So when the news arrived of your newly found sickness all he could do was smile and nod at the doctor as if he wasn’t receiving the most dreadful news.

At first, he genuinely did hope for a recovery, he believed you would get better. Sure a tiny voice in his head was feeding him scary thoughts, and his gut twisted and turned. He felt something was off but surely it was nothing!, right?.

But as your health deteriorated so did his mental state and sanity, even worse then it once was. He put up a front though, for your sake and his, comforting you and saying how you’ll be fine soon, and recover then both of you could go off and do something you always wanted to do.

At some points of repeating this it really turned into him assuring himself. That your not leaving him, no, not anytime soon.

The more you fell ill the more you watched him spiral infront of you. And all you really could do was stare at him with sadden eyes as you gave comforting touches against his cheek or holding him close, even if you could barely pull yourself up from the bed you laid.

You felt your time coming close to ending, and somehow so did he. But unlike you he denied it to the fullest extent.

“Please dear don’t speak of such things, don’t worry yourself. You’ll be fine you’ll see!, now just rest my dear”

He wanted to believe it’ll pass over anytime now, ignoring the doctors he spent fortunes on. And sometimes he does blame them even if they just told the truth. He hated how they couldn’t help you, how he couldn’t help you.

So the day of you passing was the day he lost his final tie to humanity. If not for you, why give such a nasty world mercy?.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

The minute they lowered your casket and buried you with the dirt is also the day he decided to amp up his murders.

He’s not sloppy with his murders their always calculated and tidy but grossem. Even with this, losing you he couldn’t concentrate which didn’t help his case as his blood lust grew and grew.

Each and every murder his mind went blank, thoughts of you kept flooding in that he desperately wanted to rip from his mind.

If a woman that wore you same fragrant passed him. She would be gone in a matter of days.

Nights were colder, harsher, he always assumed karma would catch up to him, but to him not you.

He often questioned what happened how did it happen. How did you even get such a illness?, and why did it have to be you?. We’re you in heaven watching him in his pitiful state? Was there even such a thing?. If there was…he surely wasn’t going to see you he knew where he was damned to go, but you?, he was sure you deserved the Pearl-ist set of wings.

Depending on the days, months or years following your death, he’s like a ticking time bomb.

He yearns for you in such a way he’s humiliated at it in a way. He misses you desperately, widowed too soon, he always assumed it would be you to be in this position, but he assumed wrong.

Even then he couldn’t tell if he could subject you to the twist of his heart and guts. He would beg to die before you, but the pain he feels now is something he would never want you to feel.

Following thoughts of your death was also his. Would he get to see you soon?, one last glance before being damned?.

He never truly moved on, cause you were his only love. Loving someone for him atleast, was rare in a romantic sense.

At some point he genuinely does just continue his murders till his death, maybe it was your passing that truly killed him. After your passing he was a bit hasty, maybe that’s what lead him to be shot in the woods. But who truly knows?

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Now, after his death is where everything truly came together.

His rise to power was fairly quick killing overloads one by one gaining more voices on his radio.

But the lingering feeling of hope stayed in him…maybe you were here? Waiting for him?, But at the same time he hated this life for you, in such a miserable and disgusting yet admittedly amusing place(at least to him)

Now depending on how you found him maybe the minute his radio debuted. Or maybe by a game of telephone by the residents in hell whispering rumors and describing someone all to familiar to you.

Either way! You guys do eventually find each other. By chance or destiny is up to you

The minute he spots you, hears you, even senses you, he freezes. His smile never flattering but static surrounding the area as he processes what’s happening. Is this some sort of trick?, how..how did you end up here?

In a matter a seconds though he’s in front of you, looming as his shadow grows in suspense.

He holds his appearance and self image very important but in this tiny moment of silence. He lets it slip even if just a bit, smile never faltering but I’m his eyes a glimpse of renewed joy. Genuine joy, not form the harms of others but from something warm…something bitter sweet.

Maybe it’s you who pipes up snapping him from observing you like a painting in a museum.

“See?” You said softly grabbing his hand gently like you used to do, as you softly brought it to your face and softly planted it on your cheek. “I’m real” you said with a soft smile (SILENT HILL REFERENCE!!¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Depending on where you are he’s quick to whisk you away to somewhere secluded.

Despite the questions on his mind all he can do is silently stare at you taking in ever detail, even if some changes here and there, you were still you. The you that he missed so desperately for all too long.

Even if not one for physical affection he’s quick with holding you, scared of you being taken from him again, taking in all he can.

Your so much more precious then he leads on, and he’ll be damned to second hell if he loses you again.

In the period of first meeting you again he is keen on keeping an eye one you 24/7, doesn’t matter what powers or how long you survived without him in hell. He can’t risk it, especially not now as he started accumulating enemies so quickly.

He’ll treat you like it’s your first time dating, of course in his old time-y way, but either surprising you with flowers at random times of the day, or watching you get giddy when he kisses the crown of your head.

Now that he knows, and felt the pain of losing you, every moment you have together form than on is cherished more than before. He remembers every day with you like the back of his hand, what you ate, what you said, what you wore, and more!

He know’s…he knows he’s a messed up, and vail man. He understands the gruesome things he’s done with little to no regret. But if he did in somehow and some way do good, something good to earn you back in his afterlife man is he greatful for it.

Some nights he does just stare at you. He’s scared, he will never show it but he is. If he loses you again, for eternity, he’s not sure what’d he do with himself. And that, the fact you weight so heavily on him is the second scariest thing, first being losing you.

Over all, he’s taken aback having you back, but he gets use to it very quickly, your soft comforting touches and your voice that brings back a flood of memories is something he will never forget nor let ago, he isn’t losing you this time, and he’ll do anything to make sure of that.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

WOW THAT WAS LONG, I LOVED WRITING IT THOUGH OH MY GOSH I LOVED THIS IDEA, PLEASE REQUEST AGAIN!!! \(^ヮ^)/

[littlemissclandestine]

ASK: ahhh i’m obsessed w ur adler headcanons!! pretty pretty plsss could we have more soft!adler headcanons? or maybe a few headcanons for how adler might react to realising he’s slowly falling for bell!reader before they discover the brainwash twist?? 🥺👉👈 either way just wanna express my appreciation for how you characterise him!! <3

Author's Note: Tehe back at it idk. This was an ask I got months ago but just had incredibly bad writer's and art block. Trying to get those creative juices flowing again! Thank you so much for the ask and the kind comments anon. I really really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy! <3 (your ask disappeared after i put it into Tumblr drafts??)

More Soft!Adler Headcanons:

In the morning before work, Russell wakes up a little earlier than you to spend some more time on his appearance. You see him shaving his few day old stubble and decide to help him out, taking the razor. He’d study your facial expression as you concentrate on going round each jagged edge of his scar, making sure to not cut him. His blue eyes tracing every little mark on your face, absolutely in awe of how beautiful you are even when you furrow your brows and he’d gently push a strand or two of hair out the way that had fallen over your eye. As you rinse the blade under the tap, he’d grab your chin and peck your lips, getting the taste of shaving foam in your mouth and you two would laugh about it.

I can imagine in Winter, Russell and his s/o ordering hot chocolate with some cream on top/coffee, walking and talking. When he notices your cream/foam moustache, he chuckles to himself but you pay it no mind, thinking it was his response to something you said. But he chuckles again and you question him. -> “Oh uh nothing. You just uh…got a little um...hold on.” He’d lean in and lick your lips before planting a kiss on them and leaning back to look at you with a smile, leaving you dumbfounded.

Witty jokes and comments that make you think how the hell did he come up with that one are definitely on the menu. Russell will sometimes randomly just burst into Russian or German mode and will try and teach you some words and jokes too. Mostly the swear words because everybody wants to know the swear words 

Adler and his fellow operatives were chatting one day in public with their gear on as they were on their way back to a hotel for the night before their early morning flight but the sight of kids running up to him caught his eye. They asked him questions, the usual ones, the story behind the scar and what he does for a living. At first, he wasn’t exactly the warmest towards them but when one of the kids begged him to pick them up, he grumbled and gave in, watching them just take his sunglasses and the other asking if they could touch the scar, earning a smile from him. Him an his group sat down and spent some time kicking a ball around and taking the time out for the children before they had to head back. Adler gave them all fistbumps and bent down to plant a cap on one of their heads with a wink and a side smile -> “Keep it. I don’t need it, kid.”

Slowly falling for Bell!Reader Headcanons: Part 1

Russell Adler didn’t think it was possible to be honest. Him falling for another person. Always thought of himself as a lone wolf after his divorce. Never took any interest in dates or anything because he simply didn’t have the time and partly due to a fear of being hurt again that he refused to acknowledge

Yet he found himself weirdly drawn to you. Maybe it was a sick and twisted fantasy of his, the visage of him being a human, cracking with every fleeting touch. The true monster in him seeping out, revealing his true colours

When he picked you up and out of the SUV in Trabzon, he felt nothing. Perhaps some sense of accomplishment as he was one step closer to locating the man he’d been chasing for 13 years but nothing more. As the initial interrogations continued in a secure location and your balaclava was yanked off by his own hands, a part of him knew he’d get attached when he saw you, in your rawest form  but he quickly pushed that thought away as fast as it appeared in his mind. But it’d creep up every now and then during the experimentation as he’d speak into the microphone and exhale the smoke through his nose as he stared at you through the glass, watching you carefully before dipping his head as he hears you let out a gut-wrenching scream and struggle in the chair, putting out his cigarette and calling it a day.

He’d catch a whiff of your perfume nearby to where he was working in the safehouse. The perfume on your wrists stayed behind on the desk after your leaned over to pass him something or rested your forearms on the desk. The subtle scent of your shampoo and body wash in the bathroom, lingering in the air. He’d inhale deeply and close his eyes, imagining you as his head resting on the back of his chair for a few moments before he stopped himself and his eyes snapped open, making sure nobody was nearby as if he was scared someone could read his thoughts.

A candle you’d left on for him as he worked late into the night once was never forgotten. Adler would relight it to remind himself of you when you were gone on a mission with the others, telling himself it’s just because it smells nice.

A Brick in the Wall: As Bell took photos of Kraus, Russell would glance over at her, watch you paying attention, adjusting the camera lens, sticking your tongue out as the camera shutter clicked and a small smile would creep onto his lips before he looked away and cleared his throat, giving you your next order. God, what was he thinking?

Some things however were just pure protective instinct. Like grabbing your forearm to pull you away from the railing as you stepped up onto to look over the edge of a balcony at night. He needed you alive for the mission of course, no other reason

 Or when he’d tuck his extra magazines into your ammo packs and make sure all your straps and harness were tight enough. Or even holding his arm out and across your chest when he had to hit the brakes hard while driving with a gentle you okay? after a few beats of silence

Or when he’d bought some food and you were out of it after an MK-Ultra session during the early days and he’d give you a little extra without a word to keep your strength up, looking into your eyes briefly as you cried but the guilt was creeping up on him and he’d leave before you sobbed. He’d close the door just as you burst into tears, his hand on the doorknob behind him and he’d sigh deeply, his eyes shut, trying to compose himself before walking off to find Park. They’re just a red. He’d remind himself constantly. But just a kid too…

Desperate Measures: As Belikov let the two of you in and you took out the guards and changed into their uniforms, he couldn’t help but sneak a few glances. Before you walked up the stairs, he stopped you and checked you over, head to toe, the expression on his face neutral but his mind was in overdrive. Russell took a step closer and his hands found the bottom of your skirt and tugged on it, pulling it down so it revealed less. A single nod and his lips a thin line before he turned and walked off. He refused to admit he didn’t want anyone looking at you the way he did.

He finds himself a little self conscious. This isn’t like him..since when was Russell motherfuckin’ Adler worried about the way he was perceived by a red of all people? Putting more aftershave on himself, a spray of cologne to mask the smell of cigarettes that had found its way into his clothing after years of the bad habit. A quick check in the mirror to adjust his outfit and hair before pushing the bridge of his sunglasses up and into place

Safe to say, you took him by surprise. He was of course impressed by your combat and cryptography skills as well as endurance during MK-Ultra, thinking it was such a shame you were on the wrong side. Began thinking of what-ifs…

After one particularly gruelling session, you were screaming and refusing to take the pills that Park was giving you to help you sleep, saying they made you want to vomit and the anti-sickness was not doing anything but Park explained that she couldn’t do much about it. Russell heard this from the other side of the door as he walked past your room late at night, telling Sims to source a different medicine he knew of. The next day, he entered your room as you wailed again, thrashing against your cot and he adminstered a dose, barely speaking to you before leaving again but as you clutched his hand, he rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand before letting go. Your touch overwhelmed him.

When he’d see you hang out and play poker or some board games with the others as he was filing reports and chasing up contacts, a tiny frown would form on his face, he’d start picking at the skin on his lips as he watched them or he’d look down and dust his pants off or fiddle with a pen, anything to distract himself from the green-eyed monster

If he heard you singing a song in the other room, he’d put it on for you in the car without a word spoken, you just staring at Adler as if to say how did you know that?

On one chilly night, you fell asleep in the dark room and Adler stood there in the doorway, looking at you, your breathing steady, face rid of anguish and you looked at peace in the red light. Slowly, he made his way over and draped his jacket round your shoulders, thinking to himself it’s just what any decent person would do. Can’t have his tool catching a cold now…

During stakeouts, Russell would start telling you random facts about himself he’s never told another person, saying to himself you’ll be gone soon anyways, that you were an outsider so that’s why it was easier to talk to you.

This feeling he had only seemed to grow with each mission. Instead of letting the others help you out when injured, he’d grip your shoulder as soon as they got in, steering you towards the nearest stool before anyone had a chance to say anything and command you to sit, treating you like the dog you are while he fetched the supplies.

As the weeks passed, he’d take you to your room and patch you up there, wanting some one-on-one time with you, making casual conversation, half to distract you from the pain and half to suppress the thoughts going round in his mind about being so close to losing you

He made you laugh once or twice and couldn’t stop thinking about it. It sounded even better than when Woods or the other crew members made you laugh and it made him smile to which you pointed out but he stood up and left shortly after, his standard, stoic expression returning to his face

Adler would stay up on a few occasions to make sure you slept, scanning your face as the pills began to take effect, his arms folded as he stood, looming over you, his finger scratching at his arm even though it wasn’t itchy. It was just unease which he consistently pushed down but he noticed he was getting more fidgety when it came to you. Almost like the guilt was eating him from the inside out. He’d take off his watch, place his cigs on the side and settle into a chair, telling himself it’s just for a few minutes but once he did stay the whole night, leaving before the others woke up. Nobody ever knew

If you ever asked about your time together as friends and during Vietnam when you’d having trouble remembering, he’d keep it short and sweet, but every now and then he’d make up something that was what he wished it would have been like. Nothing too out there.

During mission briefings, he’d find himself laying his attention on you the most as he talked, wanting to know you were really listening to him and secretly asking for your input too and once the others had returned to what they were doing before, he’d pull you to the side, asking you if you were okay with the plan and if there’s anything you need to go over. I mean, you were the main star of course so it makes sense but his hand would reach for your upper arm and then retract. Boundaries, Adler…

One thing that killed him though was the fact that you only ever grabbed him out of fear, during MK-Ultra when you didn’t want him to leave, when in agony from a gunshot wound, or just as you dropped off to sleep after he injected your when you were being disobedient. Couldn’t admit he wanted you to grab onto him in desperation as he- Get a grip, Adler! When did he start thinking of you like that?

After Cuba, he felt nothing. No sense of accomplishment yet as he was one step further away from locating the man he’d been chasing for 13 years but now he was two steps closer to saying goodbye to you for good…