#and since his name was that i???? assumed???

[daydreamerwoah]

Family Tree

Alright so this was the first chapter I posted on my AO3. I hadn't started on a new chapter (cause I really abandoned this idea lol). But I think this is the second story I want to work on... It'll be a slow burn, so I think I'll be taking my time writing this. But I want to see how you all like the first chapter... send me all the feedback (if it's a stupid idea please tell me lol!)

Simon x you story <3

Moving. It was something you were so unpleasantly familiar with. You had moved more times than you could count in your lifetime. But moving to Hereford, UK.... what creator above the skies decided on that? You could have said no; you had a choice..... yet you chose to move halfway across the world to that small town all because of the phone call you received a couple of months ago. 

"H-hello?" you groggily asked when you set your phone on your ear. 

"Hi may I speak with Y/n Greene?" the voice on the other end of the line was chipper; awake. And a thick British accent.

One of your eyes opened to look at the clock on your nightstand. It read 1:48am. Who the hell was calling you, awake, at this hour?

"Yeah? Who is this?" 

"My name is Colonel Henry Williams... I'm calling you about your father-"

"-My father?" Your other eye opened as you sat up in bed, confused. 

"Yes ma'am... Major Charles Campbell." 

You had no idea who the guy was talking about, "I'm sorry. Who?" 

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. You almost wondered if the man hung up the phone until he spoke again. "Y're Y/n Greene no?"

"Yes. Look I don't know who-"

"- is your mother's name Mary Greene?" You froze. How did he know that? You answered 'yes' as you turned the lamp on your nightstand, "Alright. You're the right contact then. Miss, I'm sorry to have to tell you this," he paused for a moment, "Y're father - Charles Campbell - recently passed away."

While any other child would be devastated to hear the news that their parent has just died, you were more confused than anything. Your mom and dad were still in Chicago. And while you hadn't spoken to them in a long time, you knew for a fact that if either of them passed your aunt would have called you; not some British guy claiming he was a Colonel......right?

When you hung up from him, you almost went back to sleep. Except your mind was racing. None of it made sense, yet something in your gut was telling you to call the one woman you had been avoiding since you graduated from college. Your eyes glanced back at the clock; 2:30am. You guessed you could wait until at least the sun was up before dialing her number. So you did. Painfully slow as you couldn't go back to sleep. You found yourself pacing around your apartment for those four hours until you knew - or assumed - your mother would be up getting ready for work. When the time neared 7am, your shaky hands scrolled your phone to the contact 'Mary'. If it had been any other situation, you would have scoffed at the name. Most people have 'Mom' in their phone for the parent who gave them birth. But you.... you hadn't called her that in a long time. 

"Y/n?" she answered. Not even a proper hello. 

"Hey uh.. sorry to be calling so early-" you stumbled over your words. You were nervous.

"-Oh it's okay.." 

There was a long, awkward pause. You nervously bit your lip. A part of you wanted to ask how was she doing, but you knew better. The answer would always be the same. 

"Listen.... I got a call from someone last night. Well early this morning. Something about my dad? Charles Campbell?" You rushed out before you chickened and hung up the phone in her ear. 

The sharp breath you heard on her end of the line made you shut your eyes. 

"C-Charles?"

You sighed, "Yes..." 

She stuttered, "I-I.... oh Y/n. I mean-"

"-You told me Rick was my dad." You declared a harsher than you wanted to be." 

"He is your dad sweetie."

Frustration swam through your veins, "Don't lie to me Mary."

Another long and awkward pause between your conversation almost caused you to hang up the phone, but then you heard her sniffle. A long story full of emotions came babbling out of her mouth as she explained the full truth about Charles Campbell. He was your real dad. 

A lot of cursing and yelling came from your mouth as she continued to tell you why she never told you; why she thought it was for the best to keep this secret. Even your - well now stepdad - knew everything, yet no one said a goddamn thing. You were so sick of her bullshit. Your whole life was nothing but chaos and it all came from her choices. The constant moving, her in and out of mental institutions and rehab, Rick's constant distaste for you in your own house. You were so lucky to have left all of it behind when you turned 18, but it wouldn't be easy. It's never easy letting go of someone you're supposed to love. College years were spent struggling to keep up your grades and cleaning up the mess from those two adults. 

You thought back to the conversation with the Colonel and his offer; to move to England since the house was left to you from your dad's will. An opportunity you thought about for two days before calling the man and stating you would be there. A part of you just wanted to see the other part of the world. The other part was ready to get away from it all forever. Your aunt cried when you told her. Your job was a bit sad, but like any job, they would find a replacement. Your mom... well you hadn't spoken to her since that day when she told you everything. 

It was the beginning of a new life.

************************************************************************

You dashed into the cafe from the rain. It was one thing you had quickly gotten used to, but still sometimes hated. The rain was comforting, but not when you were trying to get to work. You had yet to buy a damn umbrella although you kept telling yourself you would. There was a line that formed in front of the register and you internally sighed as you pulled the hood off of your head. You glanced down at your watch; you had some time before you needed to be at work so it eased your mind a little bit. At least the cafe was warm inside with its aroma of coffee, tea, and soft jazz music.

When it was your turn to order, you asked for the same drink you always got; a latte and made it to go. The barista gave you the same curious look as she did each time she saw you. You quickly paid for your drink and took a few steps back to turn around to stand off to the side to wait for your order when you backed up into something hard. 

"Shit sorry," you quietly said as you turned and looked at what you bumped into. 

"S'alright" the gentleman said. 

He was tall; massive; arms bigger than the side of your thigh, with a balaclava on. He had his hood up that was drenched from the rain outside. His dark clothing made his presence feel colder. You blushed in embarrassment from bumping into him; being clumsy in public seemed to be something you did at times. The man's eyes raked over you as you looked back at him. A beat went by until you realized that you standing in his way from ordering; the barista clearing her throat loudly. You quickly moved out of the way and waited for your drink, hoping they'd call out the order before the man finished placing his at the register. Luck - not on your side today - slipped away as he made his way in your direction to wait on his drink as well. He stood next to you, crumbling the receipt in his hand and placing both in his pockets. 

God he was huge; 6'3" compared to your height, he towered over you even with the space between. 

When the barista called out your order, you quickly walked up to the counter, grabbed the to-go cup, and thanked the girl. The man's eyes followed you... curiosity lingering behind the mask as he took in your presence - slightly flustered and in a hurry. You took one last look at him, offering a quick smile before dashing out of the cafe to work, thankful to be out of the awkward situation. 

Being a nurse, you're saving lives each day, but still, there was a big difference from being a nurse in a different country. You were buddied up with another nurse, Ella to help with your onboarding and training. She was a few years younger than you and was eager to help you find your way around the hospital and systems. The thing that stood out to you the most was the dog tags she wore around her neck. In the beginning, you asked her if she was ex-military, but she only smiled and told you that it was her boyfriend's tags. He was in the military and often gone so she wore them as a form of good luck that he'd return to her safe. 

"The base is 'bout 15 minutes from here," she explained. 

You only nodded and smiled; you were aware of where the base was. The first day you arrived, you met Colonel Williams at the airport who escorted you to his office. There was paperwork you had to sign regarding your father, including his house, assets, and more that they had information on and they were able to help sort it all out with you. The Colonel even offered assistance with you finding a job - which he helped you get at the hospital. You couldn't have been more grateful honestly. 

It was also something you hadn't really talked to Ella about. She only knew that you moved to the area because of family, and she easily picked up on how uncomfortable you were to even say that. You stayed to yourself mostly, and that's how you wanted it to be. Although she was determined to break down those walls you had. Deep down she and you both knew that you needed a friend, someone to lean on. You didn't know anyone in the entire country, and if anything were to happen to you, at least she would be there to call the police. But you were stubborn; that was for sure. 

Ella glanced at you, "You want to go for drinks after our shift?" she asked. 

Every muscle in your body tensed as you wrote down your shift notes. You briefly looked up as you responded to her, "Uh sorry. I need to take care of a few things after work." 

You didn't lie... you didn't tell the full truth either. But Ella didn't need to know that. While you didn't have to take care of anything per se, you did need to go somewhere after you got off. 

"Maybe next time then," she smiled. 

One thing about Ella... she wouldn't let your rejections to hang out deter her from asking any chance she got. 

************************************************************************

The sun was setting as you walked past the many gravestones looking for the one you needed to find. The air was chilly from the rain earlier, making you shiver a bit as you continued on the path. 

Even though you had been in that town for almost a month, you had yet to visit your dad. It felt.... strange; paying respects to someone you never knew. But as you strolled up to the tombstone that read his name, a part of you felt like this was all a dream. Maybe even a nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. You laid the flowers in front of the grave as you continued to look at his name - Major Charles Campbell. 

"Uh.. I know..." you put your hands in your pocket, nervous about what the hell to even say out loud, "I-I'm Y/n... your daughter...... To be honest, I'm a bit lost for words right now. I had no idea you were my dad," a soft and bitter chuckle escaped your lips, "If Mary was anything back then like she is now, then I'm sorry you had to deal with her-" a long sigh drew from you, "but I'm here now.... I'm sorry I never got to meet you.... a Colonel is helping me sort everything out so I'll get the keys to the house soon." You look up at the sky, cursing to yourself at how stupid you thought you sounded, "Charles - dad - even though I didn't know you, I hope I'll get to see you in heaven one day. Maybe you can tell me all about you."

You hadn't realized that a lone tear trickled down your cheek until you felt the cold breeze. You quickly wiped it away before sticking your hand back in your pocket and turning to leave the cemetery. 

If you all do like this and want me to continue, let me know. If you want to be tagged I will add you :)

[marchsfreakshow]

The Small Things [Tate Langdon]

Tooth rotting fluff ! / A little short thing

Tate was practically almost always over, but never failed to make you feel like you were special.

Everyone thank @marchsfreak for giving me this cute ass idea! I genuinely love it and find it adorable<3 I'm so sorry this took so long, i've been feeling dreadful recently. (So my writing isn't up to my normal standards sorry-)

Not proofread lol

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tate loved being held by you.

Possibly the only thing he could love anymore.

You were scooped up into his arms whenever possible, and stay like that for as long as you humanly could. Wether or not you were straddling him and just playing with his shirt, or Tate was laying in front of you, letting your arms wrap around his torso. It never failed to make the ghost smile. It was all he craved, more than anything, in the drab murder house.

"Tate!" You squealed, your arms instinctvely wrapping around his shoulders to keep yourself hoisted up. Tate's response was just a little chuckle and a wider smile, since your laugh was all he wanted to hear right now. He tightened his grip on your body and legs, walking around the dim basement. Each time you felt his hands, even jokingly, start to loosen under you, your grip on his shoulders and neck tightened, curling up best you could by his chest. "You actually get off on this! This is just cruel..."

"not cruel at all! I like feeling you up close and personal." The ghost chuckled again, almost curling you like some weights just because. As much as you enjoyed being lifted like it was nothing, your mother soon called your name from the top of the basement.

Begrudgingly, Tate let you go, holding onto the small of your back as he let you stand up. His fingers still lingered on your shirt as you started to walk back up to the house. The talk realistically only lasted about 5 minutes, but to the ghost it felt like forever. Time always went so much slower, when you were dead. As soon as the idea came into Tate's head, he silently jumped his way up the stairs, hiding himself behind the open door.

"I'm back." You started, starting to make your way down the creaky steps. There was silence for a moment and it only confused you. "Tate?" You asked down into the dim, dingy basement. Every step only worried you further. As you walked down, you took a deep breath, assuming Tate was about to pull something that could scare you. Like usual.

As soon as your foot stepped on the basement floor, Tate's arms scoped you up. His arms wrapping around your front tightly and lifting you up effortlessly. Your feet suddenly leaving the ground made a scream evict from your mouth. "OH MY GOD TATE-!" A sly smile was felt against your neck as your hands gripped onto the ghost's arms tightly. "Put me downnn!" You whined a bit with your legs still in the air for a second.

Instead of a verbal response, Tate just placed you down on the old couch, immediately laying himself on top of you. His face hiding in your neck. The ghost's arms rested on your shoulders as your own snaked around his back. One hand slowly starting to pet at his hair, the other rubbing his back. "You happy now you weird blondie?"

"Very." He murmered, putting a kiss to your neck.

"yeah? Good.." You muttered back, placing a kiss back onto Tate's hair. It only took a few minutes of the sweet silence between you before the ghost promptly fell asleep. "Who knew ghosts were so sleepy all the time hm?" You teased to no one, as Tate barely hummed in reply, snuggling himself closer to you. If he wasn't close enough already to be honest.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @coentinim / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47 / @lemoniiiiiii / @xrag-dollx

[pedroshotwifey]

Trouble in Paradise (Part One)

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Of all the things you thought you might be doing on your summer break, falling in love with your father's best friend in Hawaii wasn't one of them.

Tags/Warnings: Nothing crazy yet! Some kind of maybe tension, pet names, talk of Joel knowing reader since she was small, reader has a dad, mom is not mentioned, yadayada

A/N: Hello my friends! I'm terribly sorry I've been away for so long. There have been a lot of...unsavory happenings lately. Want to say sorry in advance because I know this isn't my best writing, but i'm trying to get back into the groove of things. I'm hoping I'll be back to my scheduled programming (TTF, FB, answering requests) by the time this short series is done. Expecting it to be around 3-5 parts. Thank you so much for sticking with me <3

*******

You’ve been laying in your bed blasting your “chill” playlist through your earbuds since you got home from school around five. The last exhausting day of your freshman college year. Lana Del Rey, Cigarettes After Sex, Hozier, and the like have been floating lazily through your head as you watched the sun go down. 

After a long day, you’d hung your head off the foot of your bed, intent to bask in the golden glow of the evening in a baggy T and your underwear until your eyes shut for the night. You were almost asleep when you were interrupted by a sound that didn’t quite go with “Wicked Game”. 

You yank your earbuds out, sitting up on your bed. You don’t remember it getting so dark. Your cracked window allows the late summer breeze in to gently rustle the curtains framing it. Crickets and cicadas chirp loudly outside, creating a symphony to compliment the stars shining through the inky sky. 

“Sweetheart?” 

Your head swivels to look accusingly at your closed door. The name was shouted from the stairway. Definitely your dad.

You roll your eyes but get out of bed. The clock on your nightstand tells you it’s 8:02pm, so he’s probably calling you for dinner. You’ve told him before that it’s easier just to call your cell, but when has he ever listened? You pad to your door, crack it, and shout back. 

“Be down in a minute!”

Getting no response, you can only assume he heard you. You close your door back and pick up the polka-dotted pajama pants crumpled into a pile beside your bed. You tug them on through a yawn, almost tripping a few times before they’re on all the way. 

You check your mirror before heading down. You look sleepy, not like it really matters. Your door creeks as you push it open again and make your way down the stairs. The soft carpet laid in the middle of the hardwood keeping your steps quiet. It’s about halfway to the kitchen that you hear a second voice to your father’s. It sounds vaguely familiar, and your heart skips a beat. Surely it’s not—

You climb down a few more steps and stop in your tracks at the sight of Joel Miller sitting at your dinner table. You haven’t seen him since at least your high school graduation. You’d harbored a small crush on him then, but that had to have been nothing compared to whatever the hell you’re feeling now. Your entire body seems to glow with some mix of embarrassment and surprise. 

You really thought you’d gotten over this silly little crush. Then again, it’s hard to get over something like Joel Miller. High school boyfriends? Sure, no problem. But the classic DILF next door of a best friend your dad has isn’t so easy. He’s been a constant in your childhood, always kind and there for you even when your dad wasn’t. So, in other words, highly inappropriate for you to be so attached to. 

It’s easy to say the years have been kind to him. He’s a few years older than your father, so probably about mid-forties now. He’s started to gray, a fine amount of silver peppered into his mousy brown hair. That beard of his has taken the brunt of it, though. That beard you’ve imagined between your thighs so many times. 

His dark eyes seem to have become kinder thanks to the crow’s feet carefully etched into the corners. He’s wearing his signature T-shirt and worn jeans, his brown leather jacket and work boots likely disposed of near the front door. 

He smirks as his brown eyes fall on your disheveled form, halted on the bottom step. You, in contrast to the god-like figure he’s sporting, must look like an absolute mess. Despite that fact, he looks at you almost in a different way than he used to. More intensely. It makes you resist the urge to squirm. 

“Joel,” you finally manage to choke out. “Hi.” 

Smooth, you think. 

“Hey, trouble,” he returns, light amusement lacing his tone. It makes you nervous, like he’s clocked your little secret. 

He gets up from his seat, and you can tell he’s going for a hug. You shock yourself into action and take the few steps to reach him. He envelops you in his strong arms just like he used to, and you take the opportunity to breathe in his scent. Smokey pine, whiskey, and a hint of mint—just like you remember. 

You’re smiling like an idiot despite yourself as you pull away. Luckily, your dad makes an appearance before you say something embarrassing. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he teases. “You remember my buddy Joel, dontch’a?” 

Joel scoffs before you can answer. “‘Course she remembers me, Scott, known her since she was damn near in diapers.” 

Your dad rolls his eyes. “Well, just to ask,” he argues. 

You shake your head. Same banter between those two for as long as you can remember. They’ve been friends since your dad’s freshman highschool year, and Joel’s senior. Everyone who knows Joel and Scott considers them to be brothers as much as Joel and Tommy.

Cheeks heated, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up while they’re distracted. You shut the door and comb through your hair with your fingers, straighten your tank top, and wipe away the smudged mascara you didn’t care to wash off earlier. 

When you look half-decent, you wash your hands and walk back to the dining room, choosing to ignore the fact that you just tidied yourself for your dad’s best friend. Totally normal thing to do, right?

Joel is sitting back in the same spot as you found him the first time, your dad in the seat opposite of him. There are three bowls of spaghetti served, one in front of each man, and one beside Joel. You’re not going to complain about that. 

You slide into the seat next to him, flashing him a quick smile when he turns his head to acknowledge you. You swear his gaze lingers for a second, but it’s probably just wishful thinking. 

You look away and dig into your food, zoning out as Joel and your dad talk about work. Joel’s presence beside you fuels your daydreaming, his deep, drawling voice keeping it running. You wish so badly to lean into him, feel the comfort of his embrace. Maybe more. You wish, not for the first time, that he would look at you the way you looked at him. You wish he would—

You jolt when you hear your name in conversation, your spaghetti-filled fork halfway to your mouth. 

“No, I don’t think she’d mind at all, would’ya, honey?” 

Your dad looks expectantly at you. Your eyes dart between him and Joel. 

“Uh, sorry, what?” You ask, your cheeks heating for the second time tonight. 

“Helping Joel out. I know it’s been some years, but it’s just basic stuff. Plus, it’ll be in—” 

“Really, Scott, you don’t have to volunteer her if she don’t want to—” 

“No, no,” you interrupt. “I don’t mind at all.” 

In all honesty, you didn’t think your answer through. You have no idea what you just signed up for. Though, if it’s with Joel, it can’t be too bad. 

“No, really, sweetheart,” Joel interjects. “I wouldn’t wanna have a pretty ‘lil’ thing workin’ away on her summer vacation.”

You turn to look at him, flashing him your sweetest eyes. He called you pretty—you feel like you might explode. “I really don’t mind.” 

He waits for a moment before he clears his throat and turns back to your dad. “Alright then,” he says before taking a sip of his drink. “We leave for Hawaii next Tuesday.” 

You just about choke on your dinner. Your dad laughs. 

“Told you, Joel, she doesn’t listen to a damn thing we say.” 

*****

Hawaii? For two weeks? With Joel? What do you even pack?

You stare at your suitcase, waiting for your closet to help you out and throw something in there. Should you bring sundresses or work clothes? Both, right? Probably both. Maybe more work clothes. You said you’d be helping, after all. But with what? 

God, you should have just paid attention to that damn conversation. 

It’s late Monday night, and you haven’t been able to pick up on enough over-the-phone conversation to get the gist of it. You need to stop being such a wuss and just ask. But that would mean calling Joel. Do you really want to call Joel? 

Well, yes, of course you do. But do you really want to sound awkward around Joel? No, no you don’t. And you know that’s exactly what would be happening over the phone with a man you’ve never talked over the phone with. 

You groan, flopping yourself onto your bed to stare at your ceiling and overthink. You don’t want to overpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you overpacked. But you also don’t want to underpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you underpacked, either. This really shouldn’t be that hard. You’re about to get back up, say screw it, and throw a mixture in there, when you hear a knock on your door. 

“Come in,” you call, unmoving.

“Hey, honey,” your dad says as he creeps in. “Just got off the phone with Joel.” 

You sit up at this. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, he figured you might want some advice on what to pack.” 

Oh thank God. 

“Said he’s gonna be puttin’ you to work, but to bring some pretty clothes if you want. There’s a pool at the place you’ll be workin’ at, and a beach nearby.” 

You nod along, thanking all that is holy that Joel had the idea to give you some input. 

Your dad eyes your empty suitcase and raises a brow in your direction. 

“He’ll be here around 4:00am, so be ready by then.” He looks back at you. “I love you, sweetheart, I’ll see you when you get back.” 

He gives you a hug and closes your door. 

You take Joel’s advice and pack mostly for work—with a few pretty things just in case. 

*****

As expected, Joel’s truck is in your driveway at 4:00am on the dot. You’re in the passenger seat and headed for the airport by 4:03. 

The ride is less tense than you thought it would be, mostly because the two of you are so tired. You’re practically in a coma against the window, the dull classic country music playing quietly from the old truck’s speakers lulling you to sleep. Joel is in about the same mindset, the lazy drumming of his fingers against the wheel the only thing convincing you he’s still awake. 

Buildings pass in a dark blur, everything mushed together into one big half-dream. Joel’s scent fills the cab, sealing the state you’re in. You glance at the clock: 4:48. You blink, and it’s 5:20, the truck is stopped at the airport, and Joel is gently nudging you awake. You squint at him, the cab light rudely intruding, and you can just barely make out the faint smile on his lips. You have a strong urge to lean forward and kiss him, but thankfully you’re conscious enough to not make a complete fool of yourself right now. 

“C’mon, darlin’, we got a plane to catch.” 

You nod, trying to get your bearings. Joel slides out of his side of the truck, and you follow out of yours, getting a good stretch in before leaning back into the cab and retrieving your suitcase from the narrow backseat. When you make your way around the truck to Joel, he gently grabs it from your hand. 

You look at him, mouth open and ready to argue, but he gives you a look that makes you shut it just as quick. Your stomach flutters at the gesture, and you kind of want to slap him for it. Or maybe yourself. Either way, you keep close to him until you’re entering through the sliding doors out front. 

It only takes about an hour to get through TSA and in line to board the plane, but you’re wide awake by then. And hungry. 

“Hey Joel,” you whisper. He hums at you but doesn’t look down. 

“I’m hungry.” 

Now he looks at you. “I don’t think we got time to grab anything now, darlin’, but we should have a layover at LAX in about three hours. Think you can hold tight ‘till then?” 

You nod, trying not to overthink the conversation. It was literally a few words exchanged between the two of you, but it might be the first time you’ve conversed alone outside of your dad’s house. It felt domestic to you in a way that makes you feel like an idiot. It was one conversation. 

Of course, you have to ruin the moment by humming “Party in the USA”. I mean, it’s Joel’s fault. He was the one to mention LAX. 

He laughs and nudges you. “Quit that,” he commands, though you can tell he thinks it’s funny. You giggle but indulge him. 

“Fine,” you draw out. “Somebody hates fun.” 

He scoffs another laugh, but says nothing. 

Finally, the two of you are next to board. You stop around the middle of the plane, and Joel hoists your bags into the compartment above your seats. Then, he moves aside to let you in first. 

“By the window, darlin’,” he says.

You smile with excitement and settle in, Joel sitting next to you a second later. 

“Your dad said somethin’ about it bein’ your first time flyin’, so I figured you might want a window seat,” he explains. 

Your heart warms at this. Why does he have to be so thoughtful? 

“Thank you, Joel,” you say genuinely, flashing him a smile. It may be the lighting, but you swear you see his cheeks pink up just a little before he nods and faces forward. 

The flight goes by relatively quickly. Joel does some sort of paperwork on the little desk in front of him, and you pop your earbuds in and listen to a downloaded playlist while you read. The light romance you chose was cute, but it failed to distract you completely from the hunk of man beside you. 

You’re not sure how many times you caught yourself staring at the flex of his wrist as he wrote whatever down. It was maybe once or twice that your eyes found their way up to his bicep, possibly a few times that they landed on his lower lip, his teeth bitten into it in concentration. You definitely got heated more times than you would’ve liked. And as your book started heating as well, you had to put it down. You really hope it’s not just you that feels this new tension.

For the last twenty minutes or so, you’ve been looking out the window, content to listen to your music and watch the land go by. For the last five, you’ve felt Joel’s eyes on you. You refuse to look back at him, though, just in case it’s your imagination. 

But you swear you can feel the weight of his stare. You fidget, trying to ignore the feeling as you stare out the window and at the clouds. Then you hear a sharp sound from the speakers 

through your earbuds. 

You take them off and look back at Joel as the pilot informs you that you should be landing in about ten minutes. 

He was staring at you, and he didn’t look away. You don’t look away now, either. You don’t say anything.

“Thank you for comin’ with me, darlin’.” 

You’re taken aback. Of course you would go with him. 

“It’s no problem, Joel,” you say. He gives you a short smile. “I mean, really,” you joke. “You’re the one taking me on a free vacation.” 

He smiles fully this time and rolls his eyes. He tends to do that a lot with you. It makes you smile too. 

The speaker dings again:

“Should be some light turbulence, but we’ll be on the ground soon, folks.” 

Joel looks away after the announcement, gathering his work to put back into his bag. You shake yourself off and choose not to acknowledge whatever the hell that was. 

******

You knew LAX would be busy, but. Holy shit. This place is insane. 

You keep close to Joel as he navigates the two of you through the crowds and to your next gate. He keeps slightly in front of you, and you keep getting the urge to grab his hand to keep up, but you don’t. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many people in one place—and you thought the Austin airport had been overwhelming. 

There are a million shops and restaurants and gates as you make your way down the massive hallways, up and down the escalators, and through trains. It takes an hour and fifteen before you can even see the sign for your gate. Your legs hurt from walking, and your head hurts from all the noise. 

You keep an eye on some of the closer restaurants you pass so that you can backtrack to them and grab a bagel or something before you have to get on your plane. You catch a glimpse of a Burger King when you’re suddenly slammed into. 

You gasp as you’re sent flying onto your ass by a man who couldn’t be bothered to glance your way to see if you’re alright. Joel whips around and sets the bags down, quickly helping you up. 

“Shit, are you alright, darlin’?” he asks, a deep concern in his eyes. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment even though it wasn’t your fault. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” 

Joel looks you up and down to make sure as you stand on your own two feet. He turns around, trying to scope out the man who bumped into you, and turns back when he finds that he’s long gone. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he finally says. “People don’t give a rat’s ass here.” 

You nod, smiling at his choice of words. “I’m alright, Joel.” 

He sighs and picks his bag back up, slinging the large weight over his shoulder, and then picks your suitcase up in one hand. WIth the other, he grabs onto yours. His hand is rough but warm and comforting. 

“Just stay close ‘till we get to the gate.”

Practically glowing, you hold onto him and let him lead the way. It only takes a few more minutes before he’s telling you to sit down at the waiting area. 

“I’m gonna grab you somethin’ to eat, ‘nd I’ll be right back.” 

You decide to read while he’s on his errand, picking your book back up to a particularly smutty part. You’re not going to pretend like you aren’t picturing the characters as you and Joel as he eats her out on a countertop. You bite your lip, consuming each word with fervor.

You’re just finishing the chapter when Joel strolls up with two breakfast sandwiches, a coffee, and an orange juice. He hands you a sandwich and the latter drink, and takes the seat next to you with a groan. 

“Probably have at least thirty minutes,” he grumbles. 

You nod as you thank him and unwrap your sandwich. It’s silent for a few minutes, before you can’t bear it and break the peace. 

“What all are we going to be doing?” 

Joel looks at you, almost flustered. He must have misheard you. “Huh?” 

“Like when we get there, what are we going to be working on?” 

“Oh, uh,” he clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee. “Mostly flooring ‘nd some drywall, but there should be somethin’ to do in the kitchen if I’m hearin’ right.” 

You nod and take a bite of your sandwich. Joel continues. 

“Should have a few days to relax, though, if we get everythin’ done in time.” 

Your stomach flips at the thought. A few days to relax with Joel. 

“Sounds easy enough,” you say. 

Joel nods again. “Atta girl.”

“Flight 332 is ready to begin boarding.” 

You and Joel take the last bites of your sandwich in silence and stand up to get in line once again. This flight is going to be longer, about six hours. 

Joel throws your trash away and comes back to grab your bags. Same as last time, you have a seat by the window. Not like it matters much in the long run, because just after Joel takes his seat and the plane takes off, your head falls onto his shoulder, and you promptly fall asleep. 

******

Thank you for reading!! Part two should be coming soon.

Itty bitty mini taglist: @callachloe @kewwrites @casa-boiardi @pastawench (love you guys)

Pls let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt. 2!

[jesncin]

The Potential of Asian Lois Lane: An extra addition

A bonus addition to my Asian Lois essay. I know Lois Chaudhari isn't technically a Lois since the premise of the comic she's from is where the Superman mythos is fictional and the characters in it happen to be named Clark/Lois etc. But since she's a Lois stand in and romantic partner to the Clark Kent of that story, I figured she deserves an honorable mention at least.

Here's where I position her in my Spectrum of Asian Lois Lane chart. And I'd like to talk about her!

Compared to American Alien, this Lois is actually specific and textually Indian in Superman: Secret Identity. Unlike American Alien Lois (that never specified what kind of Asian Lois was), she can't be replaced as a white woman because the text acknowledges her Indian identity (her name, lines of dialogue like this, etc.) hence she's not interchangeable with whiteness. So this take has that going for it.

Where Lois Chaudhari still falls behind Girl Taking Over (and what it shares in common with American Alien) is yet again a sense of missed opportunities narratively.

In Superman: Secret Identity, a man named Clark Kent from Picketsville suddenly has Superman's powers. After years of being made fun of for his namesake, he suddenly is what everyone has been making fun of him for- and as he lives through life he slowly understands why fictional!Superman is the way he is. It's a great story but where it misses the mark for me is its failure to recognize Superman as an immigrant. Secret Identity's Clark isn't an alien immigrant, or a human immigrant, and is instead ostracized because of his name. Government baddies want to do experiments on him so he has to hide from them too. But then he meets city girl Lois Chaudhari, and they connect because people keep teasing them for their names and Lois knows what it's like to keep secrets because she,,, committed a crime as a teen once.

"I guess we're both dangerous felons, then. Public menaces."

Being hunted by the government and being experimented on isn't really the same as being caught shoplifting.

It works well enough as a connection but to me is a huge missed opportunity to have an Indian American relate to your Superman stand-in as an immigrant. To connect on a deeper level other than "people make fun of us for sharing names with fictional characters". Later in the story, Clark and Lois have twin daughters who are visibly Indian. They too, have Superman's powers. While we're treated extensively to the narrative showing us why Clark would hide his powers from the government wishing to seek harm on him, we never get to see what Clark's daughters have to deal with on top of being visibly non-white.

Superman as an alien immigrant is an anecdote in this story. Because after all, that's not what a white American man from Picketsville would find relatable about him, is it? I have the same thing to say about Secret Identity that I did with American Alien: "Clark isn’t the only American Alien in American Alien, if you catch my drift."

I think this story is the perfect encapsulation of the limits of a white writer. One of my hottest takes on Superman is that the best and most holistic take on his character doesn't exist in the white imagination. Take a look once more at the Spectrum of Asian Lois Lanes chart that I made. All save for Girl Taking Over were headed by white men (MAWS may have Asian directors and writers on their team but ultimately its pitch and main ideas are the brain child of Jake Wyatt, a white man).

People have taken issue with me saying this and assume that I mean white people can't write a good Superman story, and no. That's not what I'm saying. I like Superman: Secret Identity. I even like American Alien. But it's been 80 years of predominantly white writers of all backgrounds getting the chance to write Superman- and already multiple attempts at an Asian Lois- and yet it took until Gene Yang (and artists Gurihiru) with Smashes the Klan and Sarah Kuhn (and artist Arielle Jovellanos) with Girl Taking Over that I felt Superman's themes as an immigrant finally took center stage and weren't just a mention or anecdote.

In no way do I want to imply that getting writers of color or Asian writers specifically will mean you'll be guaranteed a great Superman story. I'm against promoting the idea that diverse talent is infallible or tokenizing and essentializing them in such a way. What I am saying is that the best and most holistic story on Superman as an alien immigrant isn't even a goal in the white imagination. Immigrant Superman doesn't live in that mind. He doesn't pay rent there. He doesn't stop by to visit. And no, Superman creators Shuster and Siegel wouldn't have written that story either. Superman may have been the "Champion of the Oppressed" from another planet under their pen, but he would never have related to or have had immigrant solidarity with America's perpetual foreigners the way Smashes the Klan portrayed him as having. Superman's creators were too busy writing Slam Bradley to be able to write that kind of Superman.

The appeal of these cape characters for me, is the process of adaptation. Seeing them be handed off to someone else with different life experience. Seeing them bring a whole new perspective that surpasses even the creator's intentions on their character. That's what makes these characters rich and worthy of constant revisits. I just think that people of different backgrounds should be able to get as many chances as white men have with writing Superman and his cast of characters.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

if you’re looking for stevie requests can i suggest eddie having to come to terms with steve and reader getting married/announcing theyre expecting and seeing how good he treats her compared to how eddie treated her when they were together (eddie was a fuckboy.

Request by anon.

Angst and fluff. Happy ending for reader.

Steve Harrington x Reader/Past Eddie Munson x Reader.

I'm not going to lie, I flew through writing this. It was just what I needed (to write some angst and sweet Steve content) and the story just flowed out so fast.

❤️

Eddie didn't regret many things in life but losing you was the one that would stick with him for the rest of his life.

He should have treated you like a princess, instead he treated you like shit. It took a while for him to admit it, he strung you along and made you think his feelings were deeper than what they actually were.

In reality he was a typical fuckboy and messed around with your heart.

He was arrogant and cocky, assuming that you would never leave him. He dated other women and never gave a thought to how much it would hurt you.

Eddie assumed that he could come back and forth into your life when he felt like it, indulge in some great sex and then leave.

Then one day he decided to look you up while he was in town after being away for a little while.

Sometimes he travelled with Corroded Coffin doing gigs up and down the country, so when he ended back in Hawkins he figured he'd visit you and have some fun.

You can imagine his shock when he turned up at your house and Steve fucking Harrington answered the door, he was just in a towel and was smiling like the cat had got the cream.

"Harrington? What the fuck are you doing here?" Eddie snaps and there's a sinking feeling in his chest, a sense of knowing what's happening before anything is even said.

"Visiting my girl. What are you doing here Munson? If you're here for any booty call then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed" Eddie is silent for a moment and is about to speak when he hears you calling Steve's name.

You appear at the stairs beaming at Steve, the smile slips from your face when you meet Eddie's gaze.

"Back again huh? What's it been six months since I last heard from you Munson? I don't know what you think I am but I'm not an idiot...or maybe I was but not anymore. I'm with Steve and he treats me right, much better than you ever did. I suggest you leave"

He's stunned by your admission and looks to Steve who's gazing at you with complete love in his eyes. Shit...

The thing is the same love is mirrored in your eyes as you gaze back at Steve, the sight leaves Eddie feeling vaguely sick. He backs away from the door and practically high tails it away.

When he leaves Hawkins later that week, he's sure the next time he comes back this little fling of yours with Steve would be over.

Turns out he couldn't be more wrong.

❤️

Dustin is the one who tells him that you and Steve have gotten married. Steve has proposed on your one year anniversary and the two of you had gotten married in a small ceremony with just close friends and family.

To say it was like a punch to his gut was an understatement. By that time it had been almost a year and a half since Eddie had seen you and when he went back to Hawkins for his usual visit, he expected that you and Steve would be over.

He didn't expect you would be married.

It was hard to see you around town with Steve. You looked so happy and it was finally dawning on Eddie that he had lost something special.

A little while after the wedding you announced that you were pregnant. Uncle Wayne had passed on the news and gave Eddie a look of severe disappointment. Oh Wayne was delighted for you and Steve but he was pissed at Eddie and Eddie didn't blame him.

His uncle had warned him not to mess you around, that you could be special if Eddie just gave you a chance and stopped messing around.

Boy did Eddie regret not listening to the old man. Regretted every way that he had broken your heart and stomped on it and there was no way he could fix things or even hope to win you back.

Because Steve treated you right. Treated you a princess and doted on you. He made you smile and laugh instead of making you miserable.

It was Eddie's fault that he lost you and now he had to deal with the reality of that. You had truly moved on and Eddie was left with an aching heart.

If only he had treated you like a princess instead of treating you like a fool.

It turns out that he was the biggest fool of all for losing you.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

He’s not a NRC student but…

Rollo: “What are YOU doing here?” (Assuming that pre Playful Land piece you wrote happened and Rollo just happened to be at NRC for whatever reason.)

[Referencing this fic!]

This interaction is fr the "wow, these people are so weird; thank god I'm the normal one" meme 🤡 Pretend Gidel's off chasing butterflies or something--

So tell me, do you wanna go?

“What are YOU doing here?!”

The words had been taken right out of his mouth. They were spoken simultaneously, two accusatory fingers pointing in the opposite directions. One away from him, one toward…

A young man with a silvery bowl cut, bangs short, dark circles under his even darker eyes shaded by a tricone hat. His robes were elaborate in their stitching, golden thread spinning into flowers that hugged his waist and circles his arms. The aura he radiated was quiet but intense, all the heat and power of a devastating wildfire contained in a single human being.

“I remember you!” Fellow cried, brusque with his declaration. “You’re that shitty brat with the awful personality! The one that brushed us off at the docks and threatened to set me on fire!"

"And you are the incredibly shifty, invasive conman who sought to lure innocent children into the claws of magic." Rollo grimaced, pressing a handkerchief to his nose. "... It seems you've dropped the polite pretenses since our last encounter."

"Yeah, well, no point in puttin' on those airs anymore. I left my last job, so I'm not obligated to kiss ass."

"How... good for you."

Rollo’s reply, while curt, was phrased politely enough—but the pause stuck out. His eyes burned with disdain, as though he were regarding something offensive. A piece of trash, maybe. No, dirt. Perhaps something even lower than dirt.

Rollo averted his gaze, as if to end the conversation then and there. The dismissive motion grinded Fellow’s gears, sandpaper rubbing on his skin.

What, am I not worth his time to talk to? Who does he think he is?!

Fellow clenched his jaw and forced a smile. “So, my good man! What have you been up to since we last met, hmm?”

“… Official business.” Rollo glanced at the documents tucked under one of his arms. “As Student Council President of Noble Bell College, it falls to me to act as our representative and to engage with other magic schools.”

Fellow blew out air through his teeth. “You’re a real hotshot, huh?”

One of the lucky ones, polished and put on a pedestal. Envy tugged at Fellow’s heartstrings. What he would give to be a part of that glittering world, not a worry to his name.

“One could say that, yes.” Rollo seemed to be frowning with his entire body. His expression, his posture. “Hmph. It is a burden I did not ask for. How troublesome.”

Fellow straightened—irked. “What are you talking about? You have any idea how many people would kill to be where you are? Be a little more grateful, wouldja?”

“Excuse me?” Rollo’s brows twitched. “Who are you to judge others and determine how they ought to behave?”

“You don’t have to be a somebody with a fancy title to know when there’s a bad seed around.”

“You do not know me,” Rollo said icily. “Do not presume that you do.”

You could never understand what I’ve been through!!

He looked the beastman up and down, noting the patchwork in his attire, the holes in his façade. “… Pray forgive that I do not place much stock in your word. You do not present as a scholar, nor an upstanding adult of any sort.”

The comment cut deep, striking at his core. Fellow lashed out in defense.

“S-So what?! I don’t need a hoity toity kid like you labelling me. You’re bound to school and its rules. Me? I’m free to go wherever I like, whenever I please.”

Rollo sniffed, unimpressed. “So you claim—yet you linger at the feet of this institution of those who worship sin. It’s perfectly clear what your motive is, Mr. Honest. Like an parasite drawn to rotting fruit, you seek to be in the vicinity of that power, hoping to leech some of it for yourself. You too are one of the mindless sheep clamoring for a crumb of magic, not recognizing that pursuit will inevitably lead to your demise.”

Fellow blinked. His anger wavered, mixing with confusion. “Wh-What the hell, kid! You always gotta talk like a doomer?! Unclench your face for a second and take a breather, sheesh! I’m getting depressed just standing here listening to you mouth off.”

Rollo scoffed. “If you ask me, you do not take life seriously enough.”

“Life’s meant to be fun. Not all work, no play. You’ll become a dull and jaded grown-up if you keep going down this path.”

“I would rather be that than a fool who holds fast to his childish delusions.”

"Psssh. Least I'm not a hardass. All the privilege in the world and you still gotta act all sour."

Rollo stared at him, his gaze cold and steely. Fellow returned it. The same thought filled both of their heads.

He isn't satisfied with what he has now. He wants something more for himself than this. He's...

Deplorable, Rollo thought.

A greedy bastard, Fellow thought.

And when, at last, the staring became too much for either to bare, Rollo coughed into a fist. "If you will excuse me. I mustn't dawdle. These documents have to be delivered to Headmaster Crowley in a timely manner."

He paused deliberately.

"... I will pray for you," Rollo murmured as he walked off, his steps brisk and snappy.

Fellow gawked after him, appalled.

"Yeah, good riddance!" he hollered. "Hope the door hits ya on the way out!!"

[immortalmrwavell]

Getting The Job

(Original story posted November 7th 2021. Original story title “Better Life, Cop Life”) This story has been mildly Updated!

Recently Eric’s life had been going down the drain. First he split up with his boyfriend Jake after discovering he was cheating. Then he lost his job due to staff cuts. And to top it off he then lost his old apartment since it was all in Jake’s name. Now his ex was living in their old place with the guy he cheated with while Eric was struggling to find a new job while living in the cheapest apartment he could find. As he applied for shitty job after job he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to deserve all this? Was it all some kind of cruel universal joke?

As he was job hunting, one of the positions that popped up was a job at a small clothing shop called “Threads for Life”. The description of the job itself was extremely vague but he assumed it would just be retail. Working a till and serving customers etc. So he applied.

Surprisingly they were the first to get back to him about his application and in such a short time frame as well. They emailed asking for him to come in for an interview. Of course Eric accepted. Why wouldn’t he? The only weird thing was how close this shop seemed to be. It was just down the road from his old apartment and still rather close to his current one but he could swear he’d never seen or heard of the shop before. He just chalked it up to him being unobservant and forgetful.

On the day of the interview Eric found the shop just where it was said to be. Even after seeing it though, nothing clicked. He could’ve sworn it wasn’t here before. He shook the odd feeling off however as he stepped up to the front door perfectly on time and looking his best.

Upon entering he was greeted by a middle aged man who introduced himself as the owner of the establishment, Tony. The two exchange greetings before Tony ushered Eric to follow him. Eric expected to be taken immediately to an office but instead Tony simply walked through the many isles of clothing with him while chatting casually about the shop and its history.

Before Eric had assumed this to be a simple clothes shop. One that sold shirts, pants and all the rest like most other shops. And it did. But something Eric was quick to notice was how most of the clothes seemed to be matched together in outfits. Rather than being separated into different sections, almost all the clothes in the shop had already been prematched. There were plenty of casual combos like t-shirts and jeans or shorts and tank tops however as they moved from aisle to aisle there were a very noticeable amount of clothes that seemed more like costumes.

Some were more understandable like suits. But a lot of the others?… Eric took note of medical scrubs, fireman uniforms, motorcycle gear, handyman clothes, police uniforms, cowboy costumes, construction clothes and so much more. Eric also couldn’t help noting that none of the clothes seemed to be marketed towards women. He supposed the shop specialised in men’s attire specifically. Still he couldn’t help but find the layout of the store to be… strange.

“Soooo… Eric was it? Before I can give you a job. I want to ask you a couple questions.” The owner said as he sat down on a cushioned stool near the back of the shop, prompting Eric to do the same.

Eric of course agreed to this as questions were standard procedure for almost any interview so he was ready for it..

“Okay first question then. Growing up, did you ever have any dreams of who you’d eventually become? What job you’d want to strive for? What kind of man you’d want to become?” Tony asked.

It was a strange question for sure but Eric still pondered it for a moment before answering. “Well I don’t think I was ever dead set on anything but I remember wanting to be something along the lines of a fireman… or a police officer maybe?”

Tony nodded, seeming pleased with that answer. “Okay then second question. Are you content with the current direction your life has taken or would you still like to fulfill that childhood dream if you could?”

Eric chuckled at the bizarre question. “Well… my life hasn’t exactly been going in a good direction recently. If I could change some things I would. But if you’re asking me whether I’d wanna become a cop then… I just don’t think I have what it takes.” He gestured down at his body. “I’m thin and lanky. Don’t really go to the gym that much and I’m not all that good with confrontation. To be honest I just don’t think I have the right mindset to be a cop you know?” Eric huffed before looking back up at the owner. “And no offense but what does that have to do with me working here?”

Tony didn’t answer at first. He just smiled before standing back up again. The owners eyes glanced around the store, mainly at all the costumes and then turned back to Eric.

“Alright. I think I can give you a job.”

Eric was surprised when he heard that. All he’d done was answer two silly questions. He tried to query as to how those questions even mattered but Tony simply asked Eric to follow him. Confused as ever, Eric did just that.

The pair made their way back down the isles of outfits. They passed by the suits, doctors scrubs and all the other costumes yet again. Only the weird thing was now that Eric was getting a closer look at them, he started to notice how real the costumes looked. They weren’t just silly fake costumes you’d wear to a party. They were the real deal! Actually looking as though they belonged to real firemen and real doctors. Even the tradie outfits looked dirty as if they’d been used for actual tradie work.

Tony stopped in front of the police uniforms. Eric was quick to notice just how real those looked as well. Not just uniform but genuine looking police badges as well. Not to mention the radio, utility belt and even a body cam that all looked completely real. As if they’d been taken directly from actual cops and put on display.

“Pick one.” Was all Tony said.

“What? Seriously?” Eric was baffled. This had to be some kind of joke right?

“Oh come on. Humour me a little. Pick one out.” Tony urged, patting Eric on the back. “Though if I were you I’d certainly pick that one.” The shop owner pointed out a specific uniform amongst the selection. Eric didn’t really see why it’d matter which one he chose as they mostly looked the same anyway.

Eric sighed. “Fine, I’ll pick that one then. Now what? Want me to go try it on.” He joked only to be met by an affirming nod from Tony.

“Changing rooms are just over there.”

Eric raised an eyebrow at the man but decided what the hell. He took the uniform off the rack along with the equipment. Tony then picked up the large black boots and placed them on top of the uniform in Eric’s hands. Eric shook his head as he turned and walked off towards the changing rooms.

He shut the blue curtain behind as he stepped into one of the stalls. It was a fair bit bigger than he’d expected it to be. Eric sat the uniform down on the bench before striping himself down to his boxer briefs. After setting his own clothes to one side, he began to get dressed in the police uniform.

First thing he did was pull on the pants which he found to be rather baggy. He sat down to prevent them from falling as he grabbed the shirt, pulling it on and buttoning it up. He made sure to tuck it into his pants before grabbing the utility belt and strapping firmly around his waist. He still couldn’t believe it had a real taser attached to it and everything. Lastly Eric slid his feet into the heavy black boots which were clearly a couple sizes too large.

With that Eric stood up to take a look in the mirror. He looked ridiculous. The uniform was far too big and baggy on him. He looked like he was playing dress up more than anything. He slid his hands into his pockets as looked at himself a little more, amused by the uniform. Though as his hands dug around in the pockets, he realised something was in one of them. It was small and metallic. Eric pulled it out to reveal a name tag with “J. Desmond” engraved on it. Jokingly Eric decided to pin it to his shirt for a laugh.

Eric shook his head again at how silly this all was. Why had Tony made him put this one anyway? With a shrug he was just about to start taking the uniform off, not wanting to look stupid when he stepped out of the changing room. But before he could even start unbuttoning the shirt, he began to feel…weird. Like a warm wave of pure pleasure began flowing over him. A wave so incredible that he almost didn’t notice his body starting to change.

His upper body was first to see a transformation. His back widening significantly as his flat chest began to bubble and swell into two thick hefty pecs. Pecs that grew larger until they started to strain his shirt slightly. The same shirt that’d been hanging loosely off his frame moments ago now starting to fill out at an alarming rate. Especially as his shoulders bulged to the size of cannon balls while his traps grew to match. His waist grew larger but tighter at the same time as fat melted away in place of pure raw muscle. Showing itself even more so in the form of abs. They weren’t chiseled washboard abs, they were thicker and softer than that but still impressive all the same.

But his arms. They were what really caught Eric’s attention. Partly thanks to the cop shirt he was wearing being a short sleeve which gave him a full view of their transformation. He got to watch as veins pulsed across his skinny twig-like arms as though they were being pumped full of unseen energy. And then with pain or warning they started to swell. His previously non existent biceps began hulking into reality as the muscle beneath his skin inflated. It should’ve been impossible. Seemingly gaining mass from nothing. But his eyes witnessed it all. His forearms expanded rapidly while his hands cracked and thickened. His biceps continued to balloon with power and size until they stretched his sleeves. Only then did they finally stop. His veins subsided as his arms reached their new colossal size.

His upper body might’ve been massive now but his lower body was getting ready to catch up. Eric’s waist and hips had already widened enough for the waist of the cop pants to fit securely. Now it was his legs turn to catch up.

In seconds they put on an unbelievable amount of sheer muscle mass. It was as though someone had plugged an air pump into his legs and started filling them up. But it wasn’t air. It was pure real muscle. Eric couldn’t help but groan a little as his pants began to feel tighter. He leaned against the wall of the cubicle for support as his thighs and calves continued to bloat thicker and more powerful by the second. The once baggy cop pants now fit him like a glove. But it wasn’t just his legs. His backside started to swell as well. His once average butt growing into a juicy muscular bubble ass that strained against the back of his pants perfectly. Not to mention his feet cracking and lengthening similar to hands. Growing multiple sizes until they fit perfectly inside the black cop boots he had on.

When the next change kicked in, Eric’s eyes widened as one of his hands instinctively flew towards his crotch. Grabbing his bulge tightly as even that began to swell and grow. His eyes began to roll back as his cock snaked down one his legs, growing girthier in the process. Meanwhile his balls followed suit as they bloated into fat heavy nuts full to the brim with cum.

His body was complete but his head still had to change. A stinging sensation came over his face as it started to morph. The shape of his head and all of his features altering dramatically until he was unrecognisable from the man he once was. His new look being much sharper and masculine in a way that would’ve screamed high school jock had he been a little younger. All the while the light stubble he’d always carried grew into more of a short well kept beard while the messy mid length hair he adorned shortened into faded crew cut.

“Fuuuuuck…” Eric groaned as the transformation subsided at last. There was a clear difference in his voice. It must’ve been altered with the rest of his body. He found himself looking back into the mirror with amazement. No longer was he that scrawny pale figure of a man he’d seen reflected all his life. Now he was… buff. Really buff! And hot as fuck!. It was unreal. The uniform that was more or less falling off him moments ago now clung to him as though he were made for it. He couldn’t stop himself from running his hands up and down his torso, feeling a set of strong abs hiding under his shirt before drifting back up to squeeze his power new pecs through the fabric. He never thought he’d actually have fucking pecs but here he was now! Groping and kneading them.

In all the excitement his cock began to firm up. Eric could feel the blood rushing to his crotch as his growing erection created a clear outline in his pants. He smirked as he brought both hands down towards his crotch. Gently he rubbed his hands across the length of his dick through his pants.

Eric looked back into the mirror before bringing both arms up into flex. His already hard cock twitched at the sight of his biceps bulging, threatening to rip his sleeves in the process. The strength he felt flowing through his arms… No, his whole body was intoxicating! With his left hand Eric proceeded to grasp and squeeze his right bicep. It seemed impossible, like he was living in a lucid dream!

Just then Eric thought of something he’d always wished he could do. He’d never been buff enough to do it before. But now? He lowered his arms to his sides, stood up straight before flexing his chest. His pecs bounced. Eric’s eyes widened in amazement at the sight of his new muscle tits jumping underneath the shirt. He bounced them a few more times before cupping them again with a sense of pure wonder flowing through him. “These feel fucking amazing…”

Once he’d finished admiring his pecs, Eric remembered something else that’d grown. He turned his back to the mirror and looked behind. His cock twitched extra hard this time as he caught sight of his muscular new cop butt straining against his uniform pants. He couldn’t help himself. Before long his greedy hands were reaching back and grasping at his thick bubbly ass. “Oooohh fuuck.” He growled, feeling just how hefty they were. “My ass is fucking huge!…” Eric murmured aloud, lost in the pleasure. So lost in fact that he didn’t even notice Tony peering through the curtains. Watching with a horny gaze as Eric squeezed and groped his fat new ass. Even watching as Eric went as far as to place his hands just under his ass cheeks and start jiggling them, dumbly laughing as he did.

Eric felt his cock pulsing and bucking uncontrollably as he played with his cop butt. So much so that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Soon enough he spun back around to face the mirror again before unzipping his pants. Tony continued to creep in on the show while Eric shoved a hand into his underwear, struggling to free his erection. With a little effort however Eric was able to let out a satisfied sigh as his girthy python sprung free. The thing must’ve been around 9 inches long and insanely thick. It was every man’s dream cock.

A slapping noise could be heard from the changing rooms as Eric began smacking his cock against his hand while he admired it. Every smack sent a pleasurable shiver through his body. He had to stroke it. He was just able to wrap his hand around its full girth before he started to pump. It had to have been at least three times more sensitive than his old cock as Eric couldn’t stop cursing while he pumped it.

He began to jerk faster as he looked over his new body in the mirror again. His handsome bearded face and buff body. How thick his legs were. How buff his arms had become. How massive his chest had grown. Just looking at it all reflected back at him allowed him to jerk off furiously. He then looked down at his cock. He loved seeing it. Soooo thick and excited as some precum started to drip from the tip. With how sensitive it was and intensely he was pumping it, Eric could tell he was gonna to blow any moment.

He turned to his left, getting a perfect side view of his body. He couldn’t help but fixate on how much his ass stood out. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching his free hand back towards it again. Before long he was groping his ass and jerking his cock all at the same time. The new cop was having the time of his goddamn life!

“Fuuuuuuuccck!” That was enough to send him over the edge. Tony, who was still watching, saw Eric's ass clench and his cock erupt with an enormous load. One so big that it shit cum all over the benches adjacent to the new cop as well as his old and now ill fitting clothes. His cock continued to buck and twitch for a good few moments afterwards. Shooting a few more times as it covered the floor in front of him with cum.

“See. I knew you’d like that one.” Tony finally made himself known as he pulled back the curtain.

Eric whipped around, still panting a little. “Fuck I… my deepest apologies sir… I couldn’t stop myself.” He tried to reason.

“No need to apologise Officer.” Tony smirked as he glanced down at Eric’ softening cock, still dripping cum. “Most find it hard to contain themselves after what you just went through. So no need to worry. I’ll even get it cleaned up for ya.” The store manager smiled innocently.

“Officer?…” Eric repeated what the other man had said to him as though it weren’t the truth. It sounded weird and off putting to hear someone call him that. So why did it sound so right at the same time?

“Well you are a Cop now. Officer James Desmond to be precise, so you better get used to hearing it.” Tony nodded towards the name tag that was pinned to Eric’s shirt.

Hearing that name triggered something inside Eric. Memories of being Cop flooded his mind along with a bunch of other unfamiliar memories. He still remembered who he used to be but now he had a whole new life filling his head that made his old one feel like a fleeting dream. A new life as Officer James Desmond.

“Thank you sir. You have no idea how grateful I am for all this…” James stated, his new manners kicking in right away. Immediately after he tucked his fat new cock back into his pants before pulling up the zip. “But I’ve got to be back at the station in half an hour.”

“No worries Officer! I completely understand. You head off and I’ll be sure to get all your ball batter cleaned. Might take me a while though.” Tony joked, earning a chuckle from James.

“Heh sorry sir. Got myself a pair of bull balls down here.” James gave his crotch a quick squeeze. “Well I’m off. If you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask for me down at the staton.” He said, passing by Tony as he exited the changing cubicle.

“Oh don’t worry I will.” Tony replied, giving James’ ass a smack as he passed. He continued to watch James’ ass shake as he sauntered away up until the sexy new cop reached the front door.

James hopped into his car, not even noticing it’d been morphed into a cop car, before starting up the engine. As he drove towards the station he couldn’t help but daydream about plunging his cock into some other hot cop’s ass or having another cop fuck his new bubble butt. Surely some of his buddies down at the station would be down for some fun. According to his memories he seemed to recall catching his own partner checking out his ass a couple times…

Back at the shop. “Another life bettered and another hot stud on the streets. A pretty good day I’d say” Tony sighed to himself with a smile before turning back towards the changing room. Looking over at the huge mess of Cop nut he now had to clean. “Well… best get to work.”

[bbsmuts]

Mistaken Identity ft. Allissa Shin

A/N: Aaaaaand we have a special guest tonight, Miss Allissa Shin! I imagine this is something of a curveball, since I've never broken away from K-Pop idols, but here we are. I can't find fics of her ANYWHERE, so I guess it's good that I get to be the pioneer of it. Note that she will be one of the only people I write about outside of K-Pop, so don't bother requesting Taylor Swift or anything. This was another phenomenal pitch from @xiaoondc, the main contributor to my current success. It's also starting to seem like my readers are into BBC gangbangs, considering the number of pitches I have and have had that involve them. Allissa Shin looks so much like Rosé it's almost impossible to tell them apart in some photos. I'm ramping up the use of daddy and of tildes in this one at the suggestion of readers. So without further ado, I present Mistaken Identity. Forgive me if I spell her name with only one L, my brain thinks it should be spelled like that. Also prepare yourself for overly excessive use of tildes in Allissa's speech.

{Note: Any and all photos of Allissa Shin used in this work are 100% real and can be found on her Instagram, allissashin}

-상훈

Length: 5.34k

Possible TW: Bondage, spanking

Tags: Gangbang, BBC gangbang, DP, bondage, spanking, 69, cunnilingus, rimming

Allissa rapped the counter with her knuckles and traded another bill for another shot of whiskey from the bartender. She swallowed half of it, relishing in the spicy, woody taste with the subtle hint of sweet, and the burn that followed the liquor down her throat, making her wince a bit.

"Too strong?" The bartender asked, rubbing a glass with a pristinely white cloth. "I can get something lighter."

"Nah, it's perfect." She downed the rest of the shot and handed him back the shotglass, leaning back in the plush seat. "How many was that?"

"Nine." He replied, washing out her glass and drying it before it took its place in the cabinet. "Going through something?"

"Nope. Just felt like a being a little extra drunk tonight."

He chuckled. "Well, I'd advise you to be careful, Miss Shin. There are some who would take advantage of your intoxication."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

A huge, hulking black guy took the seat to her left, quickly joined by four of his buddies. From a glance in their direction, she could see that each and every one of them was not only very muscular and very attractive, and they were all wearing tank tops and sweatpants to prove it. The one closest to her had a large dragon tattooed on his right arm. She felt a distinct rush of arousal course through her, which might've been from the alcohol, but she liked it either way.

"The usual, I assume, Ekon?" The bartender asked. (I figured Ekon would be a good one because it's an Nigerian name that literally translates to "strong", which is quite fitting, considering who he is.)

"That's right. And one for all of my homies, on me." The guy on her left said in a deep, rumbling voice.

The bartender nodded and whisked away to prepare the drinks, and the guy threw a glance at Allissa.

"Oh shit, is that you, Chaeyoung? Yo guys, it's Rosie! Wassup!"

She looked over, confused, as the other guys erupted into cheers.

"Uhm...h-hi." She replied amongst the whoops. "Not to be rude or anything, but do I...know you guys?"

"Wow, after all this time you forgot about yo closest homies?" another one said, feigning tears. "Daaaamn."

'They must be mistaking me for someone else," she thought, watching them all colloquially fake being sad, during the course of which she conveniently heard all their names. 'Well...they are all really cute, I guess it couldn't hurt to play along.'

"Oh, shit, hey! I didn't recognize you guys at first!" She said in a bright tone, smiling. "Sorry about that, it's been too long!"

"Man, you gon' break a brother's heart messing 'round like that, forgettin' us." said the one directly to her left.

She laughed. "Yeah, sorry about that, E."

"Nah, you all good. Ayo!" He called to the bartender, who was still mixing the drinks. "Lemme get one for my homegirl over here too!"

He nodded and continued his mixing.

"What'd you order?" She asked.

"Girl, you don't even remember my go-to? Damn, we really ain't seen each other in a fat minute. I got all us some good shit, rum and liqueur and stuff."

"Ah." She said. "Sounds good."

"Trust him, it is good." One guy on the end tapped in. "And don't take too much, because that shit'll have you on the ground if you take one sip too many."

"Yo, remember back in high school? She couldn't handle anything!" This caused a fair amount of laughs, which needled her into speech.

"Yeah? Let's see how I am now then. I already had nine shots of Jim Beam."

"That's true." The bartender chimed in, bringing over the seven drinks. "Nine shots."

"Damn." Ekon said, accepting the drink and adjusted the chain on his neck. "Thanks, man. Somethin' musta changed since we last saw each other Chae, back then you could barely take one shot of henny. Nine shots of Jim Beam? That ain't never happenin' seven years ago."

Allissa suddenly realized something. 'Are they mistaking me for Rosé?' She thought. 'No way...well, still can't hurt to play a long a bit.'

"Well, a lot's changed in seven years." She said as the other guys calmed down, taking a small sip of her drink. "This is good."

He nodded. "Sure is. Rum, coconut liqueur, pineapple juice, orange juice, stuff like that. So how you been?"

"Pretty good. You?"

"Same. Life's been good. You ever get that modeling gig you was always after?"

"Funnily enough, I did." She had actually gotten into modeling, just not the gig he was referencing. "Pretty successful."

"Oh, so you got some bands. Nice. I got a question though, don't answer if you don't wanna."

"Go for it."

"You still a virgin?"

"Hell no." She replied immediately. Allissa didn't know whether or not Rosé was a virgin, but she certainly wasn't.

"Really?" He downed the last sip of his cocktail. "Something's changed about that attitude too. Last time we saw each other you was saying you weren't gonna lose it until you got married."

"Guess I changed my mind." She took another sip of hers.

"How many?" Another guy down the line, who'd been lying attention to the conversation said. She didn't have to ask what he meant.

"Nine." She replied.

Ekon nodded. "Respectable amount. Less than I would've expected, to be honest."

She raised an eyebrow. "I said I'm not a virgin, not that I'm a whore."

He raised his hands. "My bad, gang, my bad. So you going anywhere else tonight?"

"I wasn't planning to, but I wouldn't mind."

"You wanna come back to our place?"

She was suddenly very aware of how sheer and tight her dress was, and more aware of how the defined muscles of Ekon's arms rippled with every movement.

She didn't say anything, but he could definitely figure out the change in expression on her face.

"Well?"

"S-sure, yeah." She said, voice wavering a little.

He turned to the guy on his left. "Yo, she coming home with us. Y'all finished?"

The other one smirked, nodded, and passed the news on while Eli turned back to Allissa, a smirk on his face too.

"You finished with the drink?"

Despite her anticipation and slight nervousness, she put on a bolder face and downed the last bit of the cocktail.

"I am now."

"Alright," he said, smiling wider, grabbing his keys, and tossing the bartender a wad of bills. "Let's roll."

...

Bursting through the doors into the cool night air was refreshing after the interior of the bar. Though cozy, it was warm and a little stuffy inside. Her steps were definitely weaving a little, but she made it to Eli's car alright. A classic '69 Pontiac GTO, painted black.

"Yo! You driving?" One of the other guys called to Ekon.

"Nah, you drive, Adrian. I wanna, uh...catch up with Rosie."

Allissa took the back seat, Adrian driving and another riding shotgun, and Ekon in the back with her. The engine awoke with a roar and the headlights switched on, illuminating the dark parking lot.

"I gotta say, Chae, you been doing some developing." Ekon commented as they started down a dark boulevard.

She had a feeling she already knew what he meant, but she asked. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean..." he gestured to her body then outlined a curvaceous figure in the air with his hands.

She blushed, hitting him on his muscular arm. "Stop!"

"I ain't joking, man. I mean...damn."

She giggled. "Thank you..."

He grinned. "Really is good to see you again though, Chae."

"You too. What are we doing when we get there?"

"We gonna figure that out when we get there. But I know you ain't stupid, you could take a good guess."

One look at his expression told her all she needed to know, and she looked away, the thought causing a thrill of anticipation and a fresh wave of arousal to a certain place in her lower region. She pressed her thighs together, trying to stave off getting turned on, but she couldn't stop her gaze from wandering over to his chiseled torso, on which every line, curve, and detail was put on display by the tight white muscle shirt. She found herself unconsciously licking her lips as her gaze roved over his perfect cumgutter abs, outlined pecs, and massively ripped arms. And from what she could see, he had a hell of a package in his boxers. (I feel so gay writing this entire part💀)

"Like what you see?" Her excitement and intense gaze did not go unnoticed.

"Mm, yes, I do~" It might've been the alcohol fueling her words, but part of it was coming directly from down below.

He chortled. "Yeah, I bulked up. Been going to the gym a lot recently."

She slid a hand over his rock-hard thigh, gently squeezing the fibers which felt like steel under her fingers. She gasped in pure arousal as her hand moved onto an absolute monster of a cock, which was massive without even being erect.

"Oh my god~" She massaged the phallic behemoth and moved closer on the seat, allowing him to put his arm over her shoulders and pull her into him. His powerful grip and iron-fiber muscles around her turned her on even more. His hand moved slowly downward, caressing the soft round of her breast through the thin fabric of her dress. She gasped again softly as his index finger traced her nipple, her sensitivity kicked up by the alcohol and how purely turned on she was.

"Save it for the room, y'all," said Adrian. "Ain't no one wanna see that."

"Don't even lie, bro, you know you want a piece." Ekon fired back. "Homie try to bullshit me..." he muttered. The other shrugged and stopped talking.

It was only a short ride more before they arrived at a large, mostly White House that resembled a a palace, with marble columns and everything. Allissa, even being the owner of a not-so-humble estate herself, was shocked at the sheer size and grandeur of the mansion.

"This is where you live?" Pleasure forgotten temporarily, she pressed her face against the window and gazed like an awestruck child.

Ekon chuckled, bringing his hand down to her now-exposed ass and giving it a strong squeeze. "Yup. There's five of us, we all live in the same joint."

"Wow..." His fingers wandered a little lower, pulling up the bottom hem of her dress so her thong was exposed.

"Damn, Chae, a thong?" He chuckled a little more. "Didn't know you was gettin' yo freak on so much."

"Mmhmm~" She bit her lip at the sight of his cock hard and straining against his sweats. "Fuck, you're big..."

Undergoing a sudden change of demeanor as they pulled into the driveway, he pressed her against the seat by the neck and spoke in his deep rumble of a voice. "And you want that, don't you?"

"Yes, daddy, I do~" Her voice came out as a whimper, his dominance only serving to make her more needy. "I want it a lot~"

"Well, yo ass bouta get it, hard."

"Oh yes, please, daddy," she moaned, his hands on her making her wet. "I want it!"

Ekon had opened his mouth to say something in return when the voice in the passenger seat piped up again.

"Y'all! We are 20 feet from the damn house, hold off for a second!"

"Aight, my bad bro. But you," he said, returning his hand to her neck as she giggled at Adrian, "better keep your little slut mouth shut."

"Yes, daddy," she said submissively, getting wetter by the second. They all got out of the car and walked quickly into the house, followed by the other two from the other car. The moment they all piled in through the door and it closed, Ekon pinned her arms to the wall above her head with one hand and kissed her, tongue aggressively pushing into her mouth. She moaned, his other hand going to her neck, while other hands pulled up her dress and caressed various other parts of her. Before long she was rid of her dress and left only in her bra and panties.

They backed off momentarily to admire her curvy, sexy figure. After a few "damn"s, they converged once more and she was pinned against the wall again.

She bit her lip as hands slipped into her panties and bra, teasing her sensitive spots and making her moan. Her hands, helplessly held above her head, twisted and writhed as multiple fingers plunged into her entrance, teased her sensitive clit, and rubbed over her nipples, assaulting her senses from every side. It had been a while since she had anyone, and she found herself quickly approaching her first orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum," she panted, gasping as several fingers found and roughly fingered her g-spot. "Oh god yes, I'm gonna cum!"

"Already?" Ekon said, triceps inconveniently flexing and turning her on more as he pushed against her hands and throat. "You little slut."

"Mmm, yes~" She moaned with rapid breaths, arching her back in pleasure. "You're gonna make me cum~"

His hand left her throat and slapped her face, leaving a small stinging mark in its wake. She was surprised at first and then felt a warm surge of sensual humiliation send a jolt straight to her pussy.

"A-ahh, fuck, yes, yes, ngghh yes, I'm cumming!" She bucked her hips off the wall, crying out in loud pleasure as she squirted on the many hands teasing her. She slid down the wall as the guys backed off, chest heaving even from the light orgasm she just had.

Apparently they weren't patient enough to postpone fucking her, so with little more ado they hoisted her to her feet and onto the rich white leather couch, a couple of them removing her panties and bra. Shirts were removed around her, filling her sight with abs and ripped arms. Jeans and sweats were next, taking boxers with them and leaving everyone present completely naked, and the other guys backed off as Ekon approached and went behind her.

She let out a sharp cry as a massive cock penetrated her pussy and immediately shattered whatever semblance of coherent thought she had left. The sheer size inside her stretched her walls out and caused a fair deal of pleasure and slight pain.

"Please," she murmured quietly, arching and then wiggling her ass to allow him better access, "ruin me."

He wasted no more time and started ruthlessly pounding her, loud claps on skin on skin sounding as he slammed his hips into her ass. She couldn't control the cries that left her mouth, face contorting in pleasure.

"Fuck!" She yelled, his cock reaching unbelievable depths inside her. "Oh my god yes, you're sso big! Oh yes, daddy, fuck my pussy!"

She could hear commentary from the five others, but her mind was too far gone to pay attention to it. He roughly grabbed her arms and held them behind her back, ramming her into the couch and leaving her helpless to the relentless assault on her tight tunnel.

"Yes, yes, yes, fuck! Don't stop, please keep going daddy!"

"Shut the fuck up and take it, you little whore." He leaned some of his weight on her, letting him growl in her ear, and pressed his hand over her mouth, muffling her moans.

"Mmph! Yes daddy!" Her voice was muted by his hand. He let go of her mouth and she turned her head to the side to survey his body. His hands left the couch as well, abs flexing to hold himself up as both hands were brought down on her supple ass in a punishing smack.

"Oh yes, spank me! Spank me harder daddy!" He gladly complied, landing more hard slaps on her ass. The sting brought her a blissful mix of pain and pleasure that was building up an orgasm like an edifice inside her.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum!" She heard the low groan behind her, accompanied by a few more spanks, and bucked her hips back into him as much as she could.

"Are you ready to take my cum, little slut?"

She nodded eagerly, still being slammed into the couch by his relentless thrusts. He delivered another hard spank to her ass, grip tightening on her arms behind her back.

"Try again."

"Yes, daddy!" She cried, eyes rolling into her head as the pleasure overtook her. "I want all of it, give me your cum, please daddy!"

A moan sounded behind her and a second later, a hot current of cum streaming into her pussy. The feeling of being filled with his cum overwhelmed her senses and threw her headlong into a strong orgasm; a wail of pleasure left her as she arched her back and squirted hard onto him.

She got barely a few moments' recovery before all the others approached and loaded onto the couch. Ekon stepped away and let them take their turn, and after one of them lifted her leg and positioned himself under her, she was penetrated in her ass and pussy by two enormous cocks.

Nothing but a gutteral, throaty moan was produced by her already overworked vocal cords. But she noticed two more guys walking around to her backside, and a thought crossed her foggy mind. They weren't going to...were they?

Her question was answered as the feeling of two more hard, throbbing tips pressing against her entrances sent signals of ecstasy to her receptors. With little more ado and no consideration for how much they were stretching her out (which was overloading her with pleasure), the shafts of the tips thrusted inside her.

"Fuck!" Pleasure turned her mind to mush for a moment as she briefly lost touch with reality. Two cocks in each hole; she hadn't been fucked like this in ages.

No, she hadn't been fucked like this ever.

Various murmurs of dirty things reached her ears, but none of them really registered with her brain. She kept up her dialogue of submissive moans, her pleas growing more and more wanting as she got more and more desperate.

"Oh yes, fuck my pussy," she panted, yelping as the smacks pelted down on her ass cheeks. "Fucking give it to me! Harder!"

All four cocks were pumping in and out of her with furious vigor; her pussy was soaked like a monsoon, and was made even wetter by the obscenities and degradation coming from behind her.

"Yeah, take these dicks, you slut!"

"You like being filled up like this, whore?"

"Yes daddy~" she whimpered, being overloaded with sensation. "I want all of your cocks in my tight little cunt! I'm your slutty little toy, keep fucking me just like that, yes!"

More spanks rained down on her ass, causing more waves of pleasure-pain to spread through her and intensifying the telltale tingling in her pussy.

"Oh fuck yes! More!" She cried. "Spank me harder!"

To her slight dismay, the slaps stopped. But a second later, something that stung a lot and something that was definitely not a hand made contact with her pinkened ass cheeks. She glanced around just as the strap was brought down on her once more, and a hand slapped her face. Her arousal turned to the max, she bit her lip and turned back around to a cock in her face. Without a second thought she opened her mouth and allowed it to push past her lips. She sucked passionately and hungrily, ignoring the slight discomfort she felt when his length went down her throat.

"Fuck, such a good little slut. Ain't that right, Rosie?" Ekon's deep voice was easily recognizable.

She nodded vigorously and continued impaling her throat on his massive cock. Her eyes rolled back and she gagged as her mouth and nose made contact with his pubes. She flicked her tongue out to trace circles on his balls as he grabbed her hair and held her right where she was. Slurping obscenely, she stuck out her tongue as far as possible to let him push every last centimeter into her squeezing throat.

"Mmph!" Her moans and gags were muted, but had she been able, the whole neighborhood would have heard her screams. She was going to cum and she knew it, the many cocks invading her holes proving to be too much to handle.

"Phhk!" More strikes from the strap, more thrusts from the guys. "Guhnuh kmm!"

Their hands stroked and caressed her passionately, in stark contrast to their cocks brutally, mercilessly pounding her. No relent, no mercy, no caring for anything more than raw pleasure. And she loved it that way.

"Daddy, I'm gonna cum!" She brought her head off Ekon's shaft and cried out to the room. "It's so fucking good, yes!"

She couldn't take it anymore. Her back arched and her hips bucked against them as her third orgasm slammed into her like a truck, her body trembling with the force of her squirting. Her arms gave out and her front half collapsed, burying her face in the couch. Still, there was no pause in the way they pitilessly railed her, driving their thick cocks in and out of all her holes.

Vaguely, she heard every single one say they were, too, on their way to orgasm, which brought her back to reality. She threw her head back and shouted out her pleasure, and her desire to be filled with cum.

"Please, daddy, cum inside me! Fill me up like the pathetic little cumslut I am! I want all of daddy's cum inside my tight little pussy!"

She bucked her hips into them in desperate need of another orgasm. Slaps landed on her face, heightening her arousal and making her even wetter, making her clench around the rods fucking her, adding to their pleasure.

"Fuck yes, breed me daddy! Fill up my pussy with your hot cum and breed me!" Her own dirty talk was turning her on as well as them, a fresh coat of slick lubricating her.

And then suddenly all four of them pushed as far as they could and bottomed out inside her, simultaneously painting her walls with thick ropes of warm, white cream and triggering her fourth orgasm. With a scream and a shaking body her pussy erupted, spraying their thighs with her own cum. One by one, each cock slid out of her, eliciting a whimper from her, and she was able to let her hips fall. Trembling and hypersensitive, she turned over and laid flat on her back, already feeling the cum start to leak out of her and drip down to the couch.

After a minute she sat up slightly and looked between her own thighs, where their cum and her juices were slowly soaking into the couch cushion.

"Oops," she giggled, letting her head fall back over the couch arm. "Guess you might have to get a new cushion."

Ekon chuckled from the other couch. "Chae, if we gave a damn, we'd fuck you on the bed."

He got up and walked away, his massive, semi-hard cock swinging from side to side. Despite having had four orgasms already, she found herself getting wet again at both the sight of him and the thought of getting fucked again. She reached down and gasped as she accidentally brushed her own clit; the touch sent pleasure shooting through her. Her soft moans did not go unnoticed, and as she fingered herself, they converged. She spread her legs eagerly, but instead of fucking her, one of them lowered his head to her soaking, tingling pussy and pressed his tongue against her clit. A high-pitched gasp left her mouth and her hands clamped down on the cushion as her hips immediately and automatically started grinding into his face.

"Oh god, yes," she moaned, eyebrows contracting up as he deftly swiped at her pussy. "Fucking eat me, daddy..."

Allissa felt her arousal and pleasure growing quickly. Clattering came from the next room where Ekon was.

"Oh yes, give it to me, daddy!" She cried, closing her eyes bucking her hips hard against his tongue. "Your tongue feels so good!"

She felt a cock press against her lips and immediately opened her mouth to let it in. She sucked on it hungrily, bobbing her head up and down.

Then someone pushed her legs up into the air, bringing her hips up, and she felt the tongur slide lower, down to her asshole. She shivered at the foreign sensation, and at the same time felt movement above her. To her slight shock, a second tongue planted itself on her pussy, and she looked down to see that the man whose dick was in her mouth had maneuvered into the top side of a 69 to eat her out. This allowed him enough leverage to thrust his hips into her face, driving his cock deep down her throat.

At that moment Ekon returned, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a massage wand in the other. Pinned down by 150 pounds of muscle, she could do nothing as he slipped the wand under the abs of the other guy and pressed it against her nipple. She moaned into his base, the vibrations adding to all the stimulation she was getting. The tongues probing her holes were very quickly catapulting her to her fifth orgasm; they had her bucking her hips and moaning with ease. Ekon's vibrator made her want to writhe and squirm, but she was helplessly trapped by the muscular body above her. Together, the sensations proved too much once more.

Wailing in ectsasy into the thick member in her throat, she clutched at his back and squirted intensely right into his mouth; the tongue in her ass was suddenly replaced by the head of a cock, closely followed by its shaft. Tears sprang to her eyes as she orgasmed again, hips jerking wildly as more cum streaming out of her.

Someone grabbed her and turned her over, sliding under her and pushing into her oversensitive pussy. Before she even had time to react, two more stretched out her saliva-covered asshole, and Ekon's cock returned to her mouth. From behind her, someone grabbed her hands and roughly tied them together. Someone grabbed her hair and pulled viciously, and Ekon slapped her face on both cheeks.

As soon as the others had come, she felt that all-too-familiar buildup of heat in her core. They reached points inside her she never knew could be hit, fucked her harder and better than she had ever been fucked in her life. Hands tied behind her back, hair being savagely pulled, ass being spanked hard, pussy, ass, and throat being mercilessly railed and used. There was no return to normal sex after this.

More slaps landed on her ass, thighs, face, and breasts, each one sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through her. She could feel herself and all the shafts inside her throbbing with need for release, and that they got.

The first one set off a chain reaction. The one under her groaned and buried himself balls deep inside her, explosively cumming and sending another tirade of warmth into her. At the same time, she and Ekon both met their orgasms, another load spurting down her throat. Several streaks of cum splattered onto her stomach, breasts, and face from the bystanders. A spray of her own cum splattered the thighs of the two fucking her ass, and the increased tightness of her ass caused two more loads to jet into her bowels. And then a second orgasm in a row hit her.

"FUCK!" she screamed as Ekon's softening length slid out of her mouth. Waves of ecstasy and intense pleasure slammed through her one by one, her mind going blank as they overtook her. Her world was a haze of bliss, and she could barely manage to crack open her eyes once the throbbing in her well-fucked cunt died down.

Each cock pulled out of her holes, followed by a steady flow of slick and thick cum. When she had recovered sufficiently, she raised her head and saw that her body was a mess of handprints, red marks from slaps and spanks, bruises, cum streaks, and sweat droplets. Spent and well-used, she let her head fall back onto the armrest.

A short while later she got up and wiped all the various bodily fluids off herself with a towel and then returned to the living room, once-coiffed-and-pretty hair disheveled and, in her opinion, sexy as hell.

"Seems a lil' bit ironic to ask, but did you like it?" Ekon asked, reclining in a seat, as she flopped onto a different couch.

"Yes~" she replied, biting her lip and giggling. "A lot."

Gesturing to the amount of cum still leaking out of her pussy and ass, she said, "You boys really outdid yourselves this time, hm~"

He smirked and returned his attention to the glass of whiskey with an approving nod.

Then it occured to her that they were still under the impression that she was Rosé.

"Can I...can I be honest for a second?"

He nodded nonchalantly. "Go for it, homie."

"Well...I-I'm not Rosé." She said in a small voice.

All sets of eyes in the room roved around to her, a few eyebrows raised. "What?"

"I'm not Rosé." She blushed under their intense gazes. "You guys thought I was at the bar, and I thought you were really cute, so I played along, but I'm not Rosé, or whoever it is you thought I was. I'm really sorry."

Ekon and all the rest looked at her for a long moment, and then they all started laughing. Slapping their knees, rocking back and forth laughing.

"Wait, wait, wait." Adrian said, fighting to control his laughter. "So you tryna tell me I been fuckin' some random girl all of us dumbasses thought was our old homie?"

She nodded meekly, glad at least that they weren't mad.

The laughter erupted again, each one of them crying with mirth. Her face turned hot, her embarrassed in a way.

"Aww, she so cute when she blushin'," commented Ekon, still giggling over the mistaken identity.

"Shut up!" She blushed harder, giggling and covering her face with her hands.

He raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

Realizing what he meant, she fell silent, a small blossom of arousal rushing to her pussy at his dominant tone.

"Do we need to punish you again?" His voice turned low, dangerous. She was silent for a moment, the small blossom blooming into a large and very wet flower.

"Yes please, daddy~"

A/N: I searched everywhere for more Allissa Shin smuts, and they don't exist. I mean, I searched on Tumblr, AO3, FFN, AFF, everywhere. So I guess I get to be the pioneer of Allissa Shin fics. Yay. This shouldn't have taken me a month to write, but wifi router problems, a considerable period of writer's block, work, and a fair amount of procrastination delayed it. Hope you enjoyed.

[strwberri-milk]

First For Everything

Motocross!Sylus x Reader || First Date || 1 054 words

The city waking up was much brighter than what Sylus was used to, He strolls leisurely over to the window, looking out to admire the city scape. The accommodations they provided him with were luxurious, but the sprawling space felt a little too lonely. He never really minded the fact but for whatever reason, the current atmosphere in the city made that loneliness feel even more profound. 

He fiddles a little with the phone in his hand, looking at the message he sent you. You’d responded so enthusiastically at the prospect of him actually asking you out on a date that you’d mistakenly sent him a voice note of you screaming into the mic, frantically texting him afterwards that it was a total accident. He couldn’t help but laugh when he listened to it, glad that you seemed to be just as interested in going on a date with him as he was with you. 

He gets ready for the day quickly, dressing more casually for your brunch date. A part of him wanted to pick you up on his bike, imagining the way you’d cling to him. It’d be a nice way to tease you since you reacted so colourfully to his provocations over text. It just made him want to play with you some more. 

“Sylus?”

He looks over his shoulder to see you leaning over him nervously. He offers you a smile, laughing at the way your eyes seem to widen marginally before coming to sit across from him. 

“Did you wait long?” you ask as you sit down across from him, lightly preening. 

“Not at all. I wanted to come earlier to look at the menu anyway.” 

You try to avert his gaze a little nervously, continuing to mess around with your hair and the hem of your clothes. You can feel his eyes follow the movement of your fingers, something you don’t miss as you make a slight noise of surprise. 

“Is something the matter?” 

“Nothing. I was just admiring how cute you are.” 

He leans backward in his seat, slowly taking in the sight of you in front of him. 

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” you say lamely, prompting him to smile at you again.

“Sweetheart, do you really think I’d say things that I don’t mean? I’m hurt if that’s your perception of me.” 

Your heart flutters in your chest at his words, surprised that he used the same pet name for you in person as he does over texts. For whatever reason, you’d assumed that the fact that he called you kitten the first time you two met was simply a fluke but now you’re glad that it’s not the case. 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” you mutter. “You just didn’t seem like the pet name sort of person.” 

You don’t want to tell him to his face that his intimidating demeanour didn’t quite make you think that he was going to be as kind to you as he is. Of course, you still think he’s incredibly handsome, those sharp eyes leisurely taking in every detail of you, but he was almost too handsome. You know he knows it too with the subtle way he moves, almost as though he’s testing your limits and trying to gauge what makes your heart burst. 

Even though the two of you had only been speaking for a little over a week, you couldn’t help but lose sleep over him. You knew he knew with the teasing remarks he gave you and now, as he reaches over to take your hand in his and press another kiss to your fingers, you gasp slightly.

“You’re far too easy. Don’t tell me you look at anybody who gives you attention like that,” he purrs, smirking at you. 

“You’re the only person I’ve been talking to,” you say honestly, Sylus’ words stirring up a plethora of feelings. 

“Good. I was hoping that’d be the answer.” 

His fingers tighten their grip on yours, resting your joined hands on the table as his thumb comes to stroke at the back of your hand. 

“I won’t be here for too much longer.” 

Your eyes widen at the contact, biting your lip as you look back up at him. You don’t know how to ask him what he intended to happen after this first date. You feel his palm press against yours, interlacing your fingers together. 

“I wanted to make the most of the time I have left with you.” 

His kindness takes a second to sink in, the pause in his voice giving you the ability to tell him no. You don’t know what to make of it, flitting down to look at your  joined hands.

“I’m not into flings,” you say after a minute, wondering if this would be your cue to leave. 

You retract your hands from his warmth, not wanting to embarrass yourself any further by continuing to spend time with him and have it go nowhere. After a moment you get up to gather your things, trying and failing to take your hand back. 

“Did I tell you that we were just going to be a fling?” he asks cooly, gesturing for you to sit back down. 

“I just told you that I wanted to make the most of the time I have left. Do you think I wouldn’t be able to keep in contact with you?” 

You stare at him, trying to understand what he’s asking you. 

“Depending on how much you decide you like me after this date, I’ll be sure to call you and text you every day. You need attention, don’t you?” he teases. 

“It’s been clear with how quickly you reply to my messages. I think it’s adorable. I’m more than willing to give you all of the attention you think you need and then some. Just say yes.” 

His gaze is intense, daring you to tell him no. You know  you don’t have the strength to deny him, nodding shyly much to his pleasure. He knows he’s going to commit the look on your face to memory, relishing in how obvious you are with your tells. 

“Good. You won’t be getting rid of me.” 

His words sound like a promise to you, one that you’re more than happy to hold him accountable to. 

[writteninlunarlight-years]

My Espresso

A repost of one of my first-ever stories. I guess it got deleted in my purge. Here it is back once again with a better name, lol

The day you died was tragic indeed for all parties involved. Your deranged stalker who killed you now serves life in prison, your fans continue to broadcast your music regularly, crying their eyes out, and your record label is on the hunt for the next ‘Hit’ girl. The only problem was you were a one-of-a-kind, naturally gifted with vocal cords, so sweet and sultry everyone fell for you. Your varying music genres make you an addiction to almost any music fanatic. You were the singer of your time. 

How did you keep that title for so long? Simply put, due to becoming the designated ‘shot of espresso everyone needs to wake up and have a good day,’ your fans were less than kind to any new artists or rising stars. You were an Angle, sweet inside and out, never letting your fame get to your head. However, many scandals and theories have been made that people can never surpass you because you sold your soul or hired people to knock down your competition. None of this was true, though. You were simply a bystander to your fan's actions, not wanting to seem unthankful for all the support that got you there.

Then it happened: your death. One minute, you were walking to the coffee shop by your apartment in the city when a strange man started yelling at you. Of course, the one day you don’t have a bodyguard leave with you, the paparazzi show up. If only that man were a paparazzi; as he got closer, you noticed the lack of camera, the deranged look in his eyes, and the shirt he wore saying, ‘Y/N be my wife.’ All you could think of doing at that moment was trying to make some distance between you and him, seeing as the streets were barren since it was late at night. Why did your best music writing have to happen late at night? Running as fast as you could, the man grew angry, and then bam, next thing you know, you wake up on the streets of a city, not your city; no, this was too red.

As you stood up from your prone position, you glanced at a window only to see not you standing there; well, it was you. It looked like you, but it also didn't look like you. Soft tan skin, chocolate brown hair, Hazel eyes, and a white, tan, and brown outfit adorned your body. You looked like the embodiment of the coffee you would drink at your go-to coffee spot. If only you hadn’t gone there that night. Maybe you would be your normal (E/c), (H/c), (S/c) self. 

Thinking hard about everything that happened, you remember being chased, him yelling obscenities at you, being shoved to the ground, something warm on your face, then a loud bang noise. What was that bang? You only remember the warm, sticky feeling, probably blood from hitting your head on the curb, then you fought a bit, squirming around; the bang must have been a concealed weapon of your assailant's choice. Jeeze, people are crazy…Oh fuck, your dead. You died. Gone. A memory. As this realization came to you, you began walking the streets of this new city.

All the inhabitants of this place looked like those demons you would see on TV or even read about in books. Looking up at the horizon, you see a large building with a flashing sign called the “Hazbin Hotel,” a giant ball to the left that looked like it had wings on it, and above you, a giant pentagram. The pieces finally clicked: you were in Hell, but why you were the sweetest human alive, even fame, didn’t get to you. Maybe Heaven reads tabloids and assumes you did participate in the fate of many of your rivals or that they thought you were a greedy pop star. Sighing softly, you turn your back on the hotel and make your way to the first place that helped you start up in the human world: a cheap manager at a cheap venue. 

~~~Years Later~~~

Years had passed since Mimzy and her crew had taken you in. She was the only demon in Pentagram City that didn’t ask for your soul immediately. Course, as you found out yourself, it’s because her soul, too, was taken from her. Meeting Mimzy was a breath of fresh air; she reminded you of your grandmother and all the pictures you saw of her singing and dancing at nightclubs when she was your age. Mimzy took you under her wing, gave you a palace to sing your sweet new music, and protected you with her clientele. Mimzy did have a habit of getting herself into some deep shit, though. Nothing you couldn’t help with, see as your popularity in Pentagram City grew, so did your powers. Some even compared you to Lilith when she was still around, a voice to conjoin the masses. You were no Lilith; you were simply ‘Y/N,’ so you compromised for a reprise of your old title: ‘ A shot of espresso to keep you going.’ Honestly, who knew demons still partook in human drinks and activities? 

As you began preparing for your next act at Mimzy’s club, said woman entered your dressing room. “Doll, oh, look at you so gorgeous. You're not as gorgeous as me, but you're still amazing. I have big news for ya’ Come and sit with me, deary.” Following Mimzy’s orders, you went to the small sofa in your Dressing Room and sat with her. “What is it, Mimz? Did you get in more trouble with those loan sharks? I told you they are dangerous; this owner of your soul is a real slow ass seeing as I have to save their ‘precious’ soul over and over again.” 

Mimzy just laughed, waving her hand in your face, resituating herself to look you in the eye before speaking again: " Don't worry about that doll. Of course, I would keep that opinion to yourself. He’s back and probably can hear everything around us. Speaking of which, that is why I came here. My dear friend Alastor and the princess of hell are coming to visit our lovely establishment. Make sure to knock their socks off!” 

You nodded softly to Mimzy, laughing at her; she was a firecracker of energy—a troublemaker, yes, but a firecracker of energy. Mimzy quickly excused herself, saying she needed to be ready to meet her guests and introduce the acts for the night. You sighed softly, returning to double-check your makeup and clothes again. 

Looking like a gorgeous espresso martini, as Mimzy calls it, you stood center stage, waiting for the curtain to rise. You hear Mimzy’s tiny heels hitting the stage and some mic feedback. “Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you our star of the stage, your shot of espresso to boost you through hard times, our dame so beautiful and sweet, Y/N.” Cheers erupted in the audience as the curtain rose and a soft amber spotlight landed on you. 

Looking out into the audience, you hesitated for a minute. A handsome man in a red suit sat in the center of the tables. He looked like a deer, not the oddest thing you have seen in the city. The way he was looking at you, though, was intense. You felt the need to cringe and back away like his power exceeded that of an average Sinner. He looked dominating, powerful, and scary even though he had a giant smile plastered on his face. Next to him sat a young-looking girl with big red cheeks. She looked so happy to be present at this event. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun on her head, with a black crown adoring her. Your boss, Mimzy, was on the other side of the smiling demon, giving you a big thumbs up. 

You took a deep breath when the song started to play on the drums and guitar behind you. You began to sing the song that had never been released to the public before you died. This was an important night for Mimzy, so why not go all out? As you began to sing, the nerves washed off of you, and you started to do your choreography, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of deep red eyes following your every move. As the song ended, you stopped center stage again, a soft, elegant smile gracing your face. “ Thank you so much, everyone. That was called Espresso, and I do hope you all enjoyed it. I will freshen up; please enjoy our band as they play some classic and new hits throughout the ages.” As you bowed and motioned to the band, they began to play. You walked off the stage, quickly stopping at your dressing room before heading to the floor and meeting the others at their table. 

You finally heard this mysterious, powerful demon's voice as you approached the table. “I never took you as the kind to allow other music in your establishment, Mimzy. Weren’t you also one always found of our time's music.” Mimzy just laughed, slapping the demon's arm. Stopping behind the group, you noticed the demon's ears pull back; he knew you were there, good. You cleared your throat for the others and spoke gently, “I’m sorry. Was there a problem with my song, sir? I didn't realize I would be in the presence of a music critic in hell.” 

The tension in the club could be cut with a knife as the demon let out a soft laugh and turned to view you. The young girl beside him was visibly panicking while Mimzy held a laugh back. The demon stood, bowing slightly and extending his hand to you. “Well, dear Y/N, it's nice to meet you. My name is Alastor the Radio Demon, and if you would like to call me whatever it was, you just made music by all means; I must be your critic.” That smile on his face never faltered. It stayed plastered there, if not a little more strained. Gently taking Alastors hand, you curtsied for him and stood straight and tall again, preparing to speak. “Well, Mr. Alastor, you don't seem to have good music taste, seeing as I am a prized singer in hell.” The two of you stared intensely at one another, sparks flying between your eyes. Mimzy cleared her throat, “ Y/N, this is Alastor, as he mentioned, the demon that owns my soul; he also runs the Hazbin Hotel with Miss Charlie Morningstar here.” 

You let go of Alastors hand, breaking eye contact first to greet the young girl. Charlie was the polar opposite of ‘Mr. Music Critic’. She compliments you and tells you how you reminded her of her mother, who has been missing for seven years. Keeping conversation with Charlie, Alastor, and Mimzy began to speak on the side. “Isn’t she interesting, Alastor? She had to have been powerful even in her human form. She may not be your level of scary, but she is something. When I found her within a month, Valentino had come to claim her and ask for her soul; she whooped him physically and mentally; she's quick-witted and cunning.” Alastor nodded knowingly; this could be advantageous to him. 

“Mimzy darling, why have you not sold her off yet? Could make a pretty penny off of her, maybe enough to pay me back for your soul.” Alastor stared at you intently. He couldn’t deny you were attractive in a beauty standard since, and the fact you weren’t afraid of him even if he dominated you in power was intriguing. Mimzy slapped Alastor’s shoulder, “She's like a daughter to me; she's sweet, smart, and a helluva singer. Why would I risk losing business here selling her off to the Vees or any other overlord.”

Tuning into Mimzy’s and Alastor's conversation, you turned to look at the Radio Demon in the eyes once more. “She also can’t get rid of me due to the fact I save her ass more so than you ever have or will.” The authority in your voice even frightened you. The smile on Alastors face tightened more, changing from boredom to interest. “Oh, is that so doll? You save my property for me.” You nod curtly to the demon holding his gaze. The smile slowly morphed into a smirk. Charlie chimes in, “Well, guys, it looks like we have overstayed our welcome; Y/N, you were phenomenal. Please let me know whenever you have your next performance. You have my number!” You nod softly to the cheerful girl before returning to the Radio Demon. 

As you all begin to stand from your seats, Alastor disappears and reappears at your side. “Ms. Y/N, it seems I have a business proposition for you. As Charlie loved your performance so much and I seem to have bad taste in music, how about we strike a deal? You come to the hotel and live there for free; you can sing once a week, and if you can pull in some more sinners looking to be redeemed, I will admit you have the better music. I will also allow you to broadcast your music on my radio.” You stared at the demon timidly, but no one made a deal that didn’t involve losing their soul. You brace yourself for the answer and speak purposefully, “What is it for you if I lose?” Alastor smiled at you menacingly, “I get your soul, of course, and you will do my bidding.” 

You hesitated, contorting your face slightly; losing your soul was not something you wanted to happen; no one did. You looked between Alastor and Mimzy rapidly, a slight panic overcoming you. As you go to speak, Charlie takes your place, “ Alright, Alastor, enough scaring people; we are leaving now. Let's go.” Alastor looked at Charlie before looking back at you. He nods slightly before saying, “I will return in the morning. Have your decision ready.” With that said, the duo left the club.

The night continued like normal; you sang a couple more songs and mulled over the conversation. You won't lie even if you were sweet on earth. Being here in hell made you a lot more prideful than when you were alive. Had someone offered such a stupid bet in the human world, you would politely decline, move on, and let your fans handle them. Alastor, though, something about him and this stupid condescending attitude made your blood boil. As the night closed, you came up with your decision. You went to your dressing room and began to pack a bag for the morning. You were so wrapped in your thoughts hating that stupid Radio Demon that you didn't hear Mimzy walk in. As you finished packing and turned around, Mimzy sat on your couch, a frown on her face. Setting everything down, you walked over to her and sat with her. 

Mimzy looked at you softly, her regular, boisterous exterior fading as her calmer interior emerged. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have done this. I only invited them to show Al how much better I was doing even after his absence. I didn’t expect him to bargain your soul with him.” You gently grabbed Mimzy's hand and looked at her, “Mimz, I got this. I am one of the best singers in hell. I will not lose my soul, and maybe I can bargain him into freeing your soul-” Before you could finish your thought, Mimzy stood up, tears in her eyes, “NO Y/N! You-You don't understand; Alastor is a notorious and powerful demon. He won’t give up mine or your soul. There is always an underlying bargain in his deals.” You looked up at Mimzy. She had never yelled at you like that before, even after ruining her favorite pink dress. Mimzy sat down gently and hugged you close before letting go. “Let me tell you Al’s story, the best I know of it anyway.” 

Even after hearing Mimzy’s story, you are set on proving yourself. Why did you feel the need to? You could only chalk it up to wanting to wipe that stupid smile off the demon's face. You stood outside the entrance of Mimzy’s club, holding her hand. “Y/N, you don't have to do this. Just ignore him.” You shook your head at Mimzy before responding. “I can do this, Mimzy. Trust me. You know where I am if you ever need me.” She nods somberly and hugs you close. The Radio Demon appears out of the shadows as you two part ways. “Hello ladies, Y/N, Mimzy, what a touching display of affection. Are you ready to strike our deal, Y/N?” You nod gently, extending your hand to the demon. With a soft chuckle, he grabbed your hand. Greenlight erupted all around you. Shadows and relic symbols appeared around you as the deal was bound. As the green lights faded, you were sucked into the shadows with Alastor and taken to a Hotel on the other side of Pentagram City. 

The hotel was lovely, nothing too overwhelming like when you were still alive. It was quaint and adorable. You could tell that Charlie put her heart into the place. Walking through the entrance to your left, you notice a bar with a black and grey cat sitting there drinking. Taking the initiative and having the desire to start already pissing the Radio Demon off, you walked away to greet the cat. “Hello, there one espresso martini, please; my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be a new resident and singer for the hotel.” Hearing your words, the cat looked up at you, practically spitting his whiskey onto the bar before collecting himself and cleaning up. In a gruff voice, he responded, “Never thought I would see the day we got more willing redeemers. Thought Sir Pentious would be our only one.” 

You laughed, covering your mouth politely as the cat put your drink before you. As he finished wiping the bar down, Alastor appeared behind you. “Ahhhh, good friend, you have met our new resident artist. Y/N, this is Husk or Husker, as some patrons call him.” You nodded politely to the cat demon, sipping your drink. Alastor sat next to you, staring the cat down. He acted like it was a sin that Husk even talked to you. As you finished your glass, a spider demon walked into the building, groaning about his day at work, sitting on your other side, and ordering a straight martini.

As he rose his head up, looking to great Alastor, he saw you. “WOAH toots, who are ya’ you gorgeous? I didn’t know another pretty thing like me walked these streets.” You smiled sweetly at the spider demon, sticking your hand out to shake his hand. You liked him. He had spunk. “My name is Y/N, and I am the new resident singer of this joint.” Silence filled the room; the spider demon's eyes widened. Looking at him confused, you pulled your hand back and awkwardly sat there. Behind you, Alastors voice rang, “Yes, dear flamboyant friend, that Y/N, the one who took Valentino down a few pegs before he became part of the Vees.” 

The spider's smile grew ten times as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Toots, let's be best friends, deal. My name is Angel Dust. It's a pleasure to meet you.” You laughed softly, connecting that this Angel Dust might be the soul of that awful month. “Deal, I need new friends now that I am out of Mimzys club.” Husker dropped his bottle, causing a shattering noise as he turned to stare down Alastor. “You were Mimzy’s singer; what are you doing here?” Alastor stared down Husker, the ever-growing smile present on his face as power exuded off of him. “Simple Husk, can’t you tell she's in a deal with me.” The room went silent as you looked down at your hands. Based on everyone's reactions, you soon realized you were fucked. 

The tension was thick between the three of you, Angel silent, not daring to interfere in a soul contract, Husker glaring at Alastor, and the Radio Demon eating up everyones distrust. What felt like hours passing was only a few minutes when Charlie and another woman appeared walking down the stairs. “I am telling you, Vaggie, I heard a new voice.” Your eyes connected with Charlie when she let out an excited squeal, barreling down to you. You laughed softly, happy the tension was broken, and hugged the excited girl back. “Oh my goodness, you came here! Are you trying to be redeemed? I am so excited! Vaggie, this is the singer I told you about!” You looked at the other girl and waved at her. When Alastor stood, she nodded back, getting ready to speak to you; however, Alastor had removed Charlie from your embrace. “Sorry, dear Charlie, but Y/N is part of my deal. She will be a new singer for the hotel, as Husk is the bartender, and Niffty the cleaner.” 

As if hearing her name, a tiny, child-looking demon crawled from the depths of somewhere and sat on Alastors shoulder. “Wowie lady, you must sing well for Alastor to vouch for you. You aren’t no bad boy, but you look like you could be tough.” You stood wide-eyed in shock at the minor demon that seemed to spawn into existence. Alastor stood beside you, shooing Niffty off him and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Alright, dear Y/N, why don’t I show you to the drawing room where you will perform? You have three days before your big performance.” Everyone looked at the hand placed on your shoulder, confusion laced on their faces. Was Alastor, not a touchy person? All you’ve known of this man was for him to be touching you in some dominating way. You nodded briefly, following the demon to the drawing room. 

You had been practicing hard for the last three days. You met Sir Pentious while in the middle of a practice performance. He was apparently your biggest fan and regularly played your music in his blimp. You signed some autographs for him and told him he was welcome to come and watch whenever he felt like it. Of course, he never did come back while you were practicing. Angel Dust said Alastor frightened the snake demon, who was “getting too close to you and distracting you.” This only confused you: why is Alastor so against any demon getting close to you except for the striking spider demon? Two, why does he care if you get distracted? Shouldn’t he want you to lose so he can keep your soul? These thoughts plagued your mind every day as you practiced. You decided to do a four-song set, your three most popular songs and the new one you debuted at Mimzys place before you left, as a nod back to your old home. 

Throughout your days here, you have noticed so many odd quirks about these residents, but nothing too crazy. I mean, it is hell after all. Angel Dust was a famed porn star for Valentino; Husker used to gamble at the high-end casino in town; Nifty liked cock roaches; Charlie and Vaggie were fighting with Heaven about Sinners being redeemed. Even Sir Pentious had a past saying he tried to kill Alastor, which made you laugh and congratulate the snake demon. The only major oddball was Alastor; every resident said he was acting different, more pompous, possessive, and aggressive. Before you showed up in his life, he was just a condescending asshole who smiled all the time and had a wicked sarcasm streak. 

What made you special? You have been nothing but mean to this man, trying to get a rise out of him and knock him down a few pegs. The main consense from every resident after they learned of your deal is to be careful; he's a master manipulator. The tidbits of information you learned of Alastor were as follows: he hosted a radio show that, up until seven years ago, played screams of his victims; he still very much missed the 1920s; Jazz was his favorite music, makes sense why he hated your pop music, and lastly like any true child of the bayou he enjoyed his coffee, his coffee with three shots of espresso. No wonder the man was wired 24/7. 

Alastor was also not a touchy man; the only person any resident had seen him touch so constantly was you. Why? No one knows the answer; Angel Dust has his theories that he “has the hots for ya toots.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that notion. The pompous, rude, robust, attractive, funny, charismatic Deer Demon didn't have a thing for you. Okay, yes, you have a thing for him, though; what changed in the three days of getting close to him and everyone else? You have no real idea; you only know that the day you realized you had more than aggressive feelings for him was two nights ago.

~~~Flashback~~~

You had been summoned to the famed radio tower by Alastor. He had a treat for you, as he put it. Following Niffty's instructions, you ended up before the radio demon's door. Now you heard the rumors already he killed and broadcasted in his tower. Did your deal mean nothing? Was it a ruse to get rid of someone with a little bit of power? You must have been standing there for too long in your thoughts because before you knew it, Alastor had opened the door for you. “Ah, dear Y/N, come on in. We have a broadcast to get to.” You nodded gently and followed him inside. 

Taking your place beside Alastor, you notice how cluttered his desk is. You stifle a laugh; the thought of the infamous radio demon who looked so clean and polished having anything untidy amused you. You see Alastor pouring his regular coffee as you turn to the small end table with some chairs. “Alastor, I never would have taken you for a coffee drinker. You seem more refined to like English teas or other sophisticated drinks.”

Alastor just looked at you with a small, unstrained smile. As he finished his drink and poured you one, he said, “Nonsense dear Y/N coffee is highly sophisticated; Louisiana was a large export of coffee grounds we lived for this drink. Coffee was the way to go when we needed to work long hours tending to fields or making ends meet at factories.” You nodded gently, amazed that this man remembered his life so well after so long. While you sat and drank your coffee, Alastor got up to prepare the broadcast. While he was busy, you took this time to examine the Deer Demon in more detail. 

He was handsome; his fringe was odd but suited him well, the unforced smile looked attractive, and his suit was perfectly fitted, leaving just enough imagination about what lay underneath. As you caught yourself having this thought, you shook your head, setting your cup down violently. Alastor turned to look at you, his smile still soft but a questioning look in his eyes. You coughed softly into your napkin and stood to meet Alastor at his desk before speaking. “So Al, what is it you need of me.” His reaction to the nickname did not go unnoticed.

Now, the original reason you decided to use the nickname he hated was to get under his skin, but instead of doing that, he smiled at you wider. Gently, he placed a microphone and headphones in your hand. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. “I believe that for people to know you are here at the hotel and will sing, they need a sample. We may have a deal on the line, but I am no cheater.” You nodded, smiling at him; maybe he wasn’t so bad. As the broadcast started, though, the same pompous ass hole came out. Boasting about being missed and how he can't wait to give Sinners of hell an actual broadcast, he introduced you. “Now, my dear patrons, I introduce Y/N. Some of you may know her and even love her, but tonight she will be singing a song for you, a taste into her performance that will be happening here at the Hazbin Hotel in two days.” 

You gripped the microphone and started singing one of your more classic songs. Only the people at Mimzys club that night had heard the new song, and you didn't want to ruin the surprise you had been working on for your concert. As you sang, you couldn’t help but notice the red eyes boring into you. Was Alastor checking you out? No, of course not. This is just to even out the deal. However, how his eyes softened and he hummed gently to your tune made your heart flutter. He sure learned one of your songs for someone who hated your music. 

As you finished your part in his broadcast, Alastor played some old-time Jazz, muting the mics before leading you out the door. You said your goodnights and began to walk away when Alastor grabbed your arm. You turned to look at him, a sweet, innocent look in your eyes; a part of you wanted him to kiss you right there. However, you could see his conflict. After a few seconds of staring at one another, Alastor let go of your arm and cleared his throat, “Good night, Y/N. Be prepared for our deal.” You nodded, and before you could ask him what was wrong, the door was closed and locked in your face.

~~~Present Day~~~

The day you had finally come for your concert. You had spent most of the day resting and preparing for the show. It had been over a week since your last live performance. You took your time getting prepared, wanting everything to be perfect. You double-checked your hair outfit and even dabbed on an old perfume you found while shopping with Angel. Did you buy this specific sent because it was trendy in the 1920s? No, of course not. You weren't trying to impress the famed Radio Demon during your performance tonight. It finally dawned on you as you did your last touches. You either become soulless tonight or beat the Radio Demon. A shiver ran down your back; you were so caught up in falling for the man that you forgot he was ruthless and owned you now. It's not that you minded the owning part; you minded the soulless part. 

A soft knock was heard at your door, and you released a quiet “come in.” As you turned from your vanity to see who had entered, before you stood, Mimzy, you ran to your mentor and hugged her close. “You came, you came. I thought you would be too mad at me to come.” Mimzy slapped your shoulder gently before speaking. “When have I missed one of your shows since you started working for me? Plus, Alastor personally invited me and gave me a front seat. I don’t know if it's to torment me that he's going to take your soul or if mister Deer likes you.” Mimzy began nudging your side. You stifled an almost forced laugh, your cheeks growing warm. “Mimzy, you need to lay off the alcohol. That is an absurd statement. Alastor doesn’t like me.” She gave you a knowing look. “You may think he doesn’t like you, but I can tell you sure like him.” You looked away at the floor.

Mimzy gave you a few more encouraging words before returning to the drawing room. According to Mimzy, there was already a large number of people filling the place. Charlie must be going nuts trying to recruit people. With a final glance in the mirror, you began to walk to your call point. Instead of your average tan and brown ensemble, you wore an elegant blood-red dress for tonight's performance. One that just so happened to be in your closet this morning when you started to get ready. You did your hair up and let some pieces frame your face, your makeup soft and subtle, giving you a sweet, angelic look.

Charlie introduced you to the crowd; as you took center stage and waited for everyone to calm down, you began your set. You looked out to the crowd like you did all those nights ago, and sitting right in front of you were your new friends and him. He didn’t look smug or dominating this time. No, this time, he looked calm and compassionate. Even if you looked hard enough, it almost looked like he was enjoying himself. He wore a suit practically identical to your dress in color. You promoted the hotel between each song as you sang. Your first three songs went perfectly, keeping the crowd entertained to the fullest as you always did. Once your last song died down, the crowd erupted. 

A slow interlude played as you spoke softly: "I wrote this last song a long time ago when I was alive. I have only sung this song once at Mimzy Speakeasy, so if you were one of the lucky few to hear it, please feel free to sing along and enjoy it to the fullest this time.” You smiled softly before landing your eyes on Alastor. You don’t know what possessed you to sing this song, looking directly at him, but you couldn’t help it. You felt compelled, too. As the begging notes to Espresso started playing, a small group of people cheered, including Charlie. 

You began your normal choreography and sang your heart out, never taking your eyes off of Alastor for long, and from what you saw, he never took his eyes off of you for long, either. Singing your heart out as you finished the outro of the song you posed, letting the cheers and lights fade out. Charlie rushed to the stage and informed everyone about food, refreshments, and signing up to join the hotel. You, however, hid behind the curtains, blushing. Why was he looking at you so intently? Why were you suddenly so shy and concerned you sang poorly? You always had confidence in your singing.

Collecting yourself, you quickly refreshed your look in the bathroom before joining the after/recruiting party. As you were going down the hotel hall to get to the main part of the drawing room, an uneasy feeling hit you. An anxious, familiar feeling. You turn your head, and down the hall, you see a man making his way towards you. You turn around and keep walking, ignoring his shouts as you try to beeline for the entryway. You are panting at this point, memories of your death coming back to you, everything feeling too close to that moment. Just as you are about to turn the corner into the doors for the drawing room, the man reaches out for you. You brace for impact; however, nothing happens. You hear sickly screams emanating from before you as a pair of arms gently encase you in a protective embrace. As you open your eyes, you see shadows tearing the man who looked to be a part of the Vees team apart. Alastor covered your eyes before walking you back towards your room.

You didn’t even realize you had begun to cry or shake when you got to your room. The anxiety of reliving that night you died catching up to you. Alastor never let you go, even after you got to the safety of your room. Once you calmed down, Alastor went to the bathroom connected to your room. You sat there holding your face in your hands, probably looking like a mess from your actions. Alastor re-entered the room and brought you a fresh, damp towel. “To wash your face off; you probably don’t want all that on you anymore.” You nodded softly and began to wipe your face. Alastor scoffed, then took the towel from you, crouching down. Alastor gently held your face and began to clean it off. You two never broke eye contact. He was so gentle.

After your face was cleaned, Alastor took the pins out of your hair and went to find some more comfortable clothes for you. You were ushered into the bathroom and began to change when, through the door, Alastor began to speak. “Did he hurt you at all? I tried to get there as fast as I could. Before you came on, Mimzy was telling me about the night you died. I assume the Vees and their minions must have overheard and, in an attempt to weaken your resolve, make you remember that night.” You sniffled lightly, slowly opening the door, and you looked up at Alastor. Where was a man like him when you died? No, where was he when you passed that night? A choked sob left your lips as you hugged him close to you, crying into his shoulder. Alastor was amiss on what to do, but slowly, as you cried, wrapped his arms around you as well. 

As the tears faded, a green glow surrounded you and Alastor again, like when you first made the deal. No one signed up for Charlie's hotel, whether because the demon was mutilated one door over or because you didn’t come to socialize with the guests. It didn’t matter; Alastor had your soul now. Oddly enough, you weren’t as upset by this as you anticipated; you were happy about this. You felt safe, protected even. 

Alastor bid his farewell to you after you had finally calmed down. Neither one of you speaking about the contract or lost deal. You lay in bed, exhausted from all the crying and anxiety. As you drifted off to sleep, you saw your assailant again. This wasn’t an uncommon dream for you, but this time, it hurt worse due to the raw emotions. However, just as you were about to die again for the millionth time in this dream, a man dressed in red with brown hair and a soft smile protected you and saved you. 

You had been asleep for a little less than 24 hours when you woke next. Your body needed a recharge. You made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee; if you were staying at the hotel to sing, you could start putting together new songs and programs. You made your drink, noticing that Alastor's cup was missing from the cabinet. Taking your hot coffee back upstairs, you passed the hall to your room when you heard a piano playing your song Espresso. 

You made your way to the door and entered quietly to find Alastor playing your song, humming quietly in tune. You knocked gently and said, " Al, if you wanted a concert yourself, I would have given you one.” You smile softly. Alastor, unfazed by your appearance, probably already knowing you were there, hummed in amusement before speaking. “As a thank you, why don’t we perform a duet for me saving you?”  You made your way over to the piano, sitting down next to him and setting your coffee cup next to his on the piano. 

He began to play the start of the song, and you two began to sing together. Softly, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with your feelings for the man next to you. You had never sung this song like this before, and it felt special between you two. Some of you began to believe that this song was made for you and Alastor. Before you died, you knew you would meet your match—someone who met you as an equal yet also an opposite. Alastor finished the last few notes of the song. Comfortable silence surrounds you. 

Alastor smiled more naturally, “You know, Y/N, I do like your music. It did catch me off guard the first time I heard it, but your music has a lot of truths in it.” You look up at him from his shoulder, listening to his words. “From the moment I looked at you, I couldn’t get enough of you; when I met you, and you challenged me almost instantly, I knew I had to have you. You keep me awake at night thinking about everything that has happened between us in the last few weeks.” You smile softly, thinking back to the lyrics of your song. You lean up gently and place a kiss on Alastors cheek. He laughs softly when he turns to look at you thoroughly. “I’m sorry, doll, but you may have misunderstood me. I like you a lot; I feel that deserves more than a mere peck on the cheek.” You laugh wholeheartedly, this time without covering it up, before placing a soft, chaste kiss on Alastors lips. You pulled back, both of you smiling. “Now that’s an espresso I would happily take any time.” You laugh at his antics before placing your hands on the piano, now playing an old song you remembered from when you were a kid. 

All was well. Who would challenge the infamous Radio Demon, especially now that he had the notorious addictive ‘Espresso’ singer as his girlfriend? With your powers combined, he could overcome the deal he made, but that is a story for another time.

[prinzrupprecht]

When someone else gives you gifts

Featuring: Susano’o, Hades, Buddha, Poseidon ( part 2 )

I forgot Hades and swapped Anubis out. I had to take Loki out since this was gonna be too long. Part 3 will have Loki and Anubis in it.

TW: same as part 1. Some will be Yandere or possessive

Susano’o

You were another deity of the Shinto pantheon during ancient Japan. You found the sword god amusing and fascinating with the art of the sword to a point you wanted to get to know him more.

He was kind, silly, and serious when he had to be if demons were threatening humans, he would be there to stop them. He loved humans and that is what made you admire him more. He liked you as well and wanted your company during his travels as governor of the lands.

Being his, came with perks and cons. You were allowed to travel with him and be his support. The cons normally are the women who fawned over him when he killed monsters. You were jealous and insecure if he would leave you for a human but that wasn’t possible… was it? Could he sense your moods whenever they approach him?

You could tell how naive he was when they pretended to be interested in his sword. You quickly scurried off to find some fresh air but got lost in the village until you bumped into someone. “So— Sorry!” You bowed your head without seeing who you rammed into. It was a young man who waved his hand across their face. You shouldn’t be talking to him but guilt washes over you.

“Don’t be! You look incredibly cold wearing this. Here, here come inside.” He ushered you into his home which you tried to say you were fine and that you weren’t cold. It was a lie. You were cold and goosebumps were forming on your skin.

“It doesn’t appear that you’re fine.” He grabbed one of his extra long-sleeved jackets which were called a haori. He tried to give you it so you wouldn’t freeze. You tried to reject such things and remembered Susano’o telling you that humans care for one another. So it was common for them to help others.

After some time reluctantly rejecting the haori, you took it and thanked the man before putting it over your shoulders. Susano’o must be worried about you since you’ve been gone for some time. After rushing off with the plain haori over your shoulders.

You found him near a pond cleaning his sword. “Oh you’re back, I was going to find you— that is new.” He turned his head and stopped mid-sentence to admire the haori that you were wearing. You hugged your arms and this made Susano’o frown. You were cold?

“Sorry, someone gave it to me and said it’s to keep me warm,” you looked away with a slight blush forming on your cheeks.

He walked over to you and pulled you in his arms. “Oh? You could’ve asked me to heat you up if you were cold.” His arms were already wrapped around your body. He was thankful someone wanted to take care of you but he was there for that. He would take care of your needs. You were embarrassed but he was offering and you couldn’t say no to that.

Hades

Hades is an amazing king and you were his as he was yours. Ever since he saved you from multiple titans wreaking havoc in Helheim, you wanted to stay by his side forever. You constantly looked up to him. Helheim was in a terrible condition before he took over as a ruler and king. You were treated with respect and you showed him respect back.

You were in the library of Hades castle researching about demons that dwell in Helheim. Hades didn’t like you leaving the castle without him or one of the guards with you. Even though you were not weak and were strong yourself, he wanted to take extra precautions in case you ran into something stronger.

“Where is Hades?” A voice broke through the quiet room and an unfamiliar figure stood near the entrance. You looked up to see a young man with black hair who you’d assume was named Beelzebub. Hades told you about him.

Beelzebub was a strange man but you didn’t judge him nor wanted to get close to him. Hades warned you about him even told you his past and to not ever bring it up to him. He was someone to not trust at all.

“If he’s not here then he’s probably with his brothers,” you responded nonchalantly. The truth was he didn’t always tell you if he was leaving the castle for a bit. Beelzebub stood around for a brief moment before pulling something from his pocket.

“You’re researching devils?” He asked but before you could answer him, your eyes cautiously watched whatever he was doing. He was quiet and had ulterior motives. You didn’t respond and hoped he’d leave you alone. Yet what surprised you was the fact he put an ornament next to you. Or was it an amulet? It had a long chain to it and as you were going to ask him what it was, he had already turned to leave the room.

“I’d like to see how you can kill me next time we meet,” a smirk was dancing on his lips and he was already gone. You looked at the amulet and decided it would be best to ask Hades what it was. What a weird guy…

As time passed on as you waited for him to return you kept the amulet in your hand as a fidget toy. The door opened but you didn’t turn to look at who it was. “Waiting for me?” His voice made your head snap to see him dressed in his usual attire. He looked handsome as usual as you ran up to him. You didn’t realize you still had the chained object in your hand. Hades noticed right off the bat and immediately went to grab your hand and toss the amulet across the room.

“Beelzebub was looking for me was he?" Hades still held both of your wrists but he was more mad at himself for leaving you here alone. You slowly nodded but his expression changed to more of a serious one. Beelzebub was a cunning man with his experiments.

Hades would be dammed if something happened to you and if you were a target to Beelzebub’s sick games, he would put an end to that man. There would’ve been a reason why he gave you such a deadly weapon and he didn’t want to say what it was. He was just glad you were safe and now knows to take you with him the next time he has to leave the castle.

Buddha

He’s normally the one to offer you stuff— treats, food, and sweet drinks. You declined his offers every time. The man was always so full of himself which made you not want to get involved with someone like him who has a following. The Buddha was living for himself, obtained enlightenment and ascended to godhood. Buddha thought you were a boring human at first glance but you caught his attention when you constantly rejected things from him. Yet you’d accept gifts and necessities from others— but not him?

Was it a game for him? He felt insulted but his ego tells him to get over it. This wasn’t something he should care for. He lives freely and loves how crowds of people would surround him.

He snapped one day seeing how you casually accepted apples from one of the farmers. Buddha was frowning with displeasure at the sight, but it wouldn’t stop him from trying to get your attention somehow. He denied it in his head that he was spying on you. He has everything he could wish for but seeing how happy you were accepting things from others but not him, displeased him somehow.

When he finally saw you were alone picking flowers in your garden. Your space. You didn’t like others would invade your alone time. “It seems that I came at a perfect time, what are these?” he went to pick up one of the flowers but you stopped him by swatting his hand. He pouted while taking another one of his candies out and popping it in his mouth.

“Perfect time for you to leave, yes?” You tilted your head and saw his expressionless face at how careless you were around him. This is what drew him to you, to begin with. You say what you want to say to him and reject his flirtatious advances and offerings.

“Aw don’t be like that,” he pouted and then gave you a nickname that you loathed. “Why don’t you accept things I give you anyway?” He sat down next to you.

You didn’t know how to answer that. You turned your head stubbornly. “Maybe I just don’t like accepting things so casually—"

“You accepted apples from some farmer earlier eh, so did you offer anything in return?“ he was causing your face to burn up but you pushed yourself away from him even more considering how close he was trying to get between you two. Was he trying to get under your skin?!

“Th— That’s different! You’re just annoying agh!” You clutched your head. Could you stand being around him any longer but this made him laugh uncontrollably. Huh?

“See I like your honesty! Why don’t you get to know me more and see if you change your opinion about me? To start off take these and cool your head a bit.” He handed you his basket full of grapes. You sighed, it seemed impossible to ever be free from him so why not? Maybe you’ll grow onto him just like how he is a thorn in your side.

Poseidon

Poseidon was generally a quiet apathetic guy. On the outside, you could tell he either doesn’t care about your existence or you’re just dirt for him to walk on. However, none of that was true. You were special to him like his brothers are even if he doesn’t show it, his love language was different and more on the possessive side. He was king of the sea and extremely strong.

Whenever he calls himself the perfect being and that gods don’t need help. You on the other hand we’re cautious of him at first but he recognized your strength and viewed you as strong which surprised you. He rarely talks but his compliment took you off guard. “Strong? Not at all, I don’t want help from others. It’s selfish, but I don’t want others to get hurt because of me.” He thought your response was stupid.

His cold exterior made you shudder under his gaze. He raised his left hand and you thought he was going to hit you so you turned your head. His hand softly touched your cheek. “You think I’d harm you?” He rubbed his thumb over your face. It deeply bothered him you still had no trust in him. Even though he believes that gods don’t help each other. He still very loved your comfort during some of the hardest times. You never needed help or asked for it. He viewed you as different and not one of those bottom-feeder gods.

You never disobeyed him and felt more relieved how he treated you with respect. Also, he claimed you as his alone. You've never seen him with other women so you may be right to assume you were his consort— despite not married. Other men get scared off whenever they approach you and he was nearby watching.

Going as far one of them had tried to give you a dazzling pearl necklace in an attempt to sway you. They were unaware how you were already taken even if Poseidon never said the words, it deeply infuriated him. Pearls? From his sea? He could give you better. “Take it off,” he demanded while holding himself back from ripping the necklace off your neck completely. You don’t hesitate to remove it but he took the pearled necklace from your hand and snapped it in two.

“Was that necessary?” You were shocked by his jealousy. Was he afraid you would betray him? Your loyalty was to him only. The gift wasn’t anything special.

“Yes.” He pushed passed you to grab something from his top shelf before walking back to you and standing a few centimetres apart. He grabbed your arm and put something cold around your wrist. You took a look at what he put on you and covered your mouth. A sea-charmed bracelet with clams and other small sea-shaped mammals made of gold and silver.

Poseidon watched your reaction and it was pleasing to see that you liked it. Hades was the one who told him to impress you with what girls normally would like— jewelry. “Thanks, I— I don’t know what to say…” you quietly muttered. Poseidon never was mean to you but whenever he showed his possessive side it would sometimes scare you.

“Nothing. Just accept it.” He was itching to hold you close to him in that moment but what stopped him was his pride. You put your arms around him— which normally anyone would be dead in that moment. He allowed it and slowly his arms wrapped around your body. He deeply cared for you and you knew that. You were his as he was yours.

Note: I have no idea how I feel with part 2. Hades and Buddha parts feels whack and Poseidon and Susano’o feels on point. Which is the weird thing…

[pomefioredove]

Hello! I would like to request overblot boys + cater & tweels finding out that the reader who is usually shy and calm all the time is actually a streamer/vtuber. They’re very chaotic when they stream like whenever they get jumpscare, reader would scream really loud and when they find something funny, they would let out the most contagious laugh that would also make their viewers laugh at the most unfunniest things.

Thats all! Please take your time and take care╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ vtuber reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, cater, leona, azul, jade, floyd, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

Cater first came across your content on Magicam. you're popular enough to have people reposting clips of your streams, and, of course, he recognized the cadence of your voice. after a little investigation, he's sure it's you... though he hasn't brought it up quite yet. he's keeping that info for when he needs it

he did, however, tell Riddle, who...

"I don't understand,"

...yeah. he doesn't get your jokes or your avatar or anything really, but he still follows and watches to support you... not that he'd ever admit it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

how did Leona find out? your guess is as good as mine. maybe you let something slip, maybe Cater said something, maybe he just had a feeling

either way, he really enjoys the look on your face when he holds up his phone to show you one of your own streams

"This you?"

...then, he never brings it up again

whether he still watches is for him to know, and you to guess

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jade always had a suspicion that you were more than meets the eye, but he never had any reason to pry until Floyd let himself into your room while you were in the middle of a stream

"OOH, pretty, can I try?"

of course, you have to fend him off from your keyboard, and he settles for watching, instead

the next time you stream, he's there again, with Jade, too

the time after that, Azul is also watching

you have no idea why the three of them find this side of you so captivating, but they're quiet, so you let them stay

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I feel like Kalim is more online than you'd think. he probably saw a clip of you in a try not to laugh compilation and brought it to Jamil

"Hey, look, their name kinda sounds like our friend! What a funny coincidence!"

Jamil doesn't say anything then, but later, he does look into it. it doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together, after all

he doesn't say anything to you. it's hardly enough for blackmail, and he sees no other reason to bring it up

sometimes, though, when he's alone and working, he'll put on a stream just to hear your voice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rook knows, because of course Rook knows, and of course he tells Vil when he feels like it

and of course Vil looks you up out of curiosity, and of course he's surprised to see that you have quite a following. nothing compared to his, but he can't blame you for that. he wonders why you never talk about this, but assuming you have a good reason, he doesn't ask you to, either

...he could never admit that he finds your silly jokes and bits funny, anyway

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia is the pièce de résistance in all of this

he knew before Kalim, he knew before Cater, he even knew before Rook

he'd been going through different streams and stumbled across yours because he thought your avatar was cute, and...

of course, he recognized you. the way you pause when you're talking, your laugh, even your choice of jokes, is all so... you. he knew you were hiding something behind that shyness

he's been a subscriber and donator since he recognized you, and the only reason he's never brought it up IRL is because he'd pass out if he had to talk to you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Malleus

he's the only one who didn't know until you told him personally (and, even then, he was confused)

it's not like Silver or Sebek are regularly watching vtuber streams, and if Lilia were (he probably is), he wouldn't have said anything. so, it's up to you

it takes a bit to explain everything, and you'll have to show him your avatar to satisfy his curiosity, but he understands everything rather easily

though, he notes that your avatar is not nearly as cute as you are in real life

[f1girliefics]

Hearts in Conflict

Lance Stroll x Mob!Reader

Warnings: Arranged marriage, Mob stuff (violence, murder, blood and guns) angst with a happy end

Summary: Your arranged marriage was something you never wanted, but much like with anything in life, you will deal with it one way or another.

A/N: People like to say how Lance's father is like a Mobster/Gangster, well I turned the tables.

You were supposed to take over your father's empire, not marry a rich boy.

You were supposed to become the next boss, not the wife of a spoiled brat.

And yet, your father decided to marry you to a Stroll.

Lance Stroll, is a Canadian and Belgian racing driver competing under the Canadian flag in Formula One. He has driven for Aston Martin since 2021.

According to Wikipedia at least.

But in your eyes, your father's latest attempt to have you marry someone.

You made 3 boys run already, you don't know why he insisted on this stupid idea.

"You will marry Stroll and it is final."

But you also didn't want to play the part of the spoiled princess who refused to get married.

You let out a long sigh as you entered the restaurant.

You tried your best to put a smile on as you sat down at the table, Lance wasn't here just yet.

But he arrived only two minutes later.

"Hi," he said and you smiled.

"Hello, I'm Y/N Y/L/N."

"Lance Stroll, please call me Lance."

He was respectful, a gentleman. But even so, you didn't want a husband, you didn't need one.

"How do you feel about what our fathers arranged?" you asked him after long conversations. You wanted to get to the point.

"I'm not going to lie, I didn't like it. I thought you would be a brat who just wanted my family's money. But now that we spoke, I realize that is not the case, and I assume from your question that you didn't want to marry me either."

"I wanted my father's company, not yours. But he is relentless about me needing a husband."

"I heard you drove away 3 potential candidates."

"Christopher Crooke, a playboy wannabe with a cocaine addiction. Stephen Fringo, a Spanish asshole who thinks women belong in the kitchen and just last month, Alfred Smith, an American asshole with three baby mamas and millions in credit card debt. I wouldn't really say they had potential."

"And what about me? What do you think about me? Be honest and I shall do the same."

"You go first," you said hoping he would do it so you would know how hard to go in on him.

"Alright, if the Lady wishes. I think you are stunning, that is the first thing I noticed, you are beautiful and smart. Very smart. I'm trying to figure out what the problem is with you, you are strong, independent and clever. There has to be a but. I'm looking for that. So, you go then, what do you think of me?"

"My first impression was almost the same as yours. Handsome, but the moustache does nothing for you. I thought you would be a spoiled brat and to a certain degree, I was correct. But I'm the same, I'm riding on my father's name just as much. I know you don't do drugs, you wouldn't be able to be an F1 driver. No baby mamas or recent girlfriends. Your lisp is annoying and cute and the same time. For me, your but is that you are way too normal. Rich, yes, but way too normal. For you, my but will be when you realize what my family business is because it is not cars and corporations." you smiled as you stood up. "I'm looking forward to our next meeting. I have to leave now as I have another meeting to attend. Good day." and with that, you left.

Leaving Lance sitting at the table, stunned.

He liked you.

And he had to call his father.

---

"Mobsters?! Are you kidding me, Dad? You want me to marry someone that kills people?"

"They don't kill people. They just blackmail them."

"That's even worse!"

"Her family is rich and influential. Just the mention of their name brings fear and respect in people. Word about your marriage with her will spread like fire and then our name will become one with theirs. This is a chance you won't turn down, Lance." Lance looked at his father in disbelief.

---

"So, how was your meeting with Lance?" your father asked as your order arrived. You waited until the waiters were gone.

"He is my type, Dad, you know that. He has a certain boyish charm."

"So? Will you marry him? I mean you did check his background already. He is clean. No baby mamas, drug addictions or prior arrests.”

“He is a brat. Rich. And handsome.”

“You must like him. You called him handsome twice already.” Unfortunately, your father did have a point.

You hated it when he had a point.

—-

Your next meeting with Lance was set for Saturday. You told your assistant to set a date, but you were informed that Lance will have a qualifying race. So, you decided to fly to Australia and meet him, well truly, it would be a surprise for him.

His father knew about and encouraged you to meet with Lance, so he gave you an all-access VIP badge.

You even got yourself a guide who showed you around.

It was all very interesting, you got to see the Ferrari paddock closer and even caught a glimpse of Max Verstappen himself.

And you got to ask many many many questions.

But soon, you found yourself in an air-conditioned room with a cold drink in your hand as the qualifying began.

You were lucky enough to be in a good spot where you could see the start line.

You wouldn’t say you were a fan, but you did enjoy it.

Even if Lance didn’t qualify high on the board.

You enjoyed the vibes. It was all so fast, everyone in there.

But you also noticed the smug behaviour of many people.

Influencers were invited to advertise the event and F1 as a whole.

You did not like that part.

Pretending to be interested only to receive free tickets? You paid for your own even if you got it as a present.

You smiled when you saw Lance enter the room you were in.

"Why are you here?"

"Harsh. Your father invited me." technically you weren't lying per say.

But it was also not the truth. "And I did want to see you."

"I know about your family business."

"Why did you say it like that?"

"Because you are a murderer."

"Harsh, again but also false. I have never killed anyone."

"Then you ordered someone to kill them, don't play with me. I can't believe my father set me up for this!"

"Well, believe it or not, we will be married by the end of the summer break."

"Over my dead body." his voice was cold, it excited you. You liked it possibly way too much.

There was a fire in him.

"You can either continue to deny the facts or accept them. Believe me Lance, I will not leave just because you wish it. The decision is out of our hands."

"My father will hear about this."

"Alright Malfoy, do as you please." You put your sunglasses back on and continued to sip your drink.

---

You went wherever Lance went, following him almost like a shadow, all part of his father's plan.

He told you to just keep trying and be stubborn because his son is a very stubborn man as well.

No matter what Lance threw at you, you simply smiled and continued.

You didn't give up but you did start to notice changes in your future husband.

Lance slowly but surely warmed up to you.

You even had dinner one time. And it was very nice.

It started to feel like Lance was slowly accepting the fact that you two were to marry. And so every effort you made didn't meet with a brick wall.

You asked him on dates and he did the same. He showed you his hobbies.

One time, he asked you to go biking with him.

It wasn't really your thing, but you did end up going.

He fell. And he fell hard.

And it was all your fault.

You were being playful and it caused him to lose balance. You didn't push him or run into him.

But it was your fault still.

You sat in the corridor of the hospital waiting for his doctor to get you when your phone rang.

It was his father.

"Sir?" you tried to hide it, but it was obvious from your voice that you have been crying.

"Y/N, what happened how is he?"

"It was my fault. He fell during a bike ride, he hurt his hands... The doctor is in there with him, I don't know what's going on." you took a deep breath. "I'm so scared."

"Darling, it will be fine, I'm going there right now, please call me as soon as you hear something."

"I will." you ended the call just as the doctor came to get you.

"How is he?" you asked, desperate for any answers.

"The scans showed I had a fracture and displacement in my right wrist, a fracture in my left wrist, a partial fracture in my left hand and another fracture in the big toe on my right foot. He will have to undergo surgery."

"Fuck." you said and took a deep breath. "Can I see him?" the doctor only nodded and left you alone.

"Lance?" it was terrible seeing him in hospital. Your heart broke into a million tiny pieces.

"Why are you crying?"

"This is all my fault. I was so stupid." you admitted as more tears fell. "I ruined your life, your career. I will speak with my father, arranged marriage or not."

"Slow down. This wasn't your fault. I ran into that curb and fell. I should have been looking where I was going. You didn't ruin anything, Y/N. And secondly, why would you talk to your father?"

"I feel so bad. I made you fall." he rolled his eyes as you continued to cry.

"Please, don't cry. You were laughing so beautifully only a couple of hours ago."

"How can I laugh at this, Lance?"

"Come on now, I will be fine! The doctor said it will all be good, I will have the surgery tomorrow. Please calm down, everything will be fine."

"Your father is on his way, he will be soon. I'll... I'll get myself something to drink." you said and he nodded.

Hoping you would be back soon, but your pain and guilt took you over. Instead, you wrote a small letter and asked a nurse to give it to him in about three hours.

And you left.

You walked out of that hospital with the guilt of ruining a life.

---

What's better than a pity party?

Being alone, with an ice cream and Bridgett Jones playing on the TV.

Running away was not your style. But what more could you do?

You left for Greece, got on one of your father's many yacht and cried yourself to sleep every night.

They tried to call you, look for you but couldn't find you.

You only picked up the phone for your father.

"Lance was here today. His surgery went well but he is looking for you. He says he won't give up."

"How he used to hate me. He should be happy the wedding is off."

"I really don't think the boy will give up, Darling."

"Okay, can you set up a date for me?"

"What's your plan?"

"Show him the real me."

"Poor boy." your father said before he hung up the phone.

---

Throughout your entire life, you looked up to your father.

You never knew your mother but it was okay. Your father was enough.

Even as a young girl, he taught you stuff no one should know let alone a 5 year old. He always had a plan and he loved you.

But no 5 year old should have a panic room attached to their bedroom in case her father's enemies found him.

But it was your life.

When the idea of marriage came to play your father had a lot of options for you.

He allowed you to choose.

Lance Stroll caught your eye. He was so different, yet similar to you.

Many people didn't like him, thinking he was only an F1 driver because of his father. Something you could relate to. People often said how you are leaning on your father too much.

Not exactly the words they choose.

He was handsome and the world of professional drivers excited you.

And so, you went on a date with him.

That stupid date now turned your life upside down.

Falling in love was the goal. But after you ruined his life, you knew better than to keep going.

So, you set him free. No arranged marriage.

And yet, he kept looking for you.

Much like now, as he entered the restaurant, looking everywhere for you and he finally found you.

He wanted to run to you but one of your bodyguards stopped him and made him sit before they left you alone.

"Why are we here? I was hoping you would come home." he said as a waiter placed your drinks in front of you.

"Lance, I know you didn't want this marriage. So, I made it... dissapear."I know this is all because you feel guilty about my injury but it wasn't your fault and I'm fully healed now. You didn't ruin my career."

"But I could have. I could have and it was just such a simple moment, Lance. Such a tiny mistake on my part and-"

"I'm not a child! I'm sick of you, my father and the entire world pretending that I am one! I fell because of my own stupidity. I was watching you when I should have been watching where I was going. All because I fell in love with you and your smile just... It just made me so happy. Because in that moment, on that small country road, I wasn't a rich kid who drives in F1 and you weren't the daughter of a powerful Mobster. We were simply a man and a woman in love." you felt a tear run down your cheek as he let out a long sigh. "How dare you spend all those months smiling at me and then during the first problem you run away?"

His words hurt, but only because you knew he was right.

"One night when I was only fourteen, I thought it would be fun to sneak out with my friends. There was a boy I liked, Jake, he was older as well. He was nothing like you, Lance. He was... aggressive. I didn't see it then, but during that night, he tried to drug me and kill me. Apparently, my father was the reason his father died, so he decided to kill me to hurt my father. Everyone I ever knew only cared about me for my money. I know you understand that. I never knew love and it fucking scares me. Of course, I ran Lance. The first time I have ever felt love and I ruin it? Scares me so much. I rather lose you than have you hate me like others do."

"We are in the same boat, you just didn't notice me yet. We do have a lot to talk about but please, do not push me away. I'm only here to beg you to not leave me, we don't need marriage in the mix. Just please... give us a chance. I love you."

"I love you too. Fuck I do..."

You looked into his eyes and all of the plans you had for the night went out the window.

Your pity party was long over.

You wanted this man.

And you always got what you wanted.

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #201

1. Hi! I've been trying to find a fic I read a few months back for my partner since they just finished s2 but I'm not having any luck. All I really remember is that they put Aziraphales memories in a ring so they can see each other without heaven being suspicious. If yall know/could find the fic I'm thinking of it would be a big help. Thanks :)) - @ur-local-metalhead-stoner

2. Hi lovelies!!! The fic I’m looking for I remember nothing about except one line said by God…I had a look through your “god ships them” tag but nothing was ringing any bells (not to say it’s not there!) The line I remember happens when Crowley (I think??) is knocked unconscious or something and God visits him in a vision or whatever and as She is sending him back to Earth she says, “see you later alligator” I feel like it’s a popular one!!! - @ominousflags

3. I've been trying to find a fic I read a while ago and cannot remember the name and I can't find it again. Crowley and aziraphale sleep together the night of the non apocalypse and aziraphale turns into a female and they don't know why until weeks later when they are on vacation and realize he is pregnant. - anon

4. I remember a fic that takes place in the past where Crowley and Aziraphale are sword fighting because Aziraphale was jealous that Crowley was talking to a lesbian who was going into a convent (sounds weird, but it worked). It may be in a series with another one where they are at a masquerade ball in France dressed as a deer and a fox?? Or maybe not. Either way, I can't find either of them now. Can you help? Thanks! - anon

5. I remember reading a fic where Crowley and Aziraphale were in a relationship and went to an event, probably a human AU or the fic involved Aziraphale's neighbors in Soho, but the fic was released before season 2. At the event, where people knew that Aziraphale was married, everyone assumed that Crowley was flirting with Aziraphale and possibly trying to steal Aziraphale away from his husband because they didn't know that Crowley was Aziraphale's husband. I'm having trouble finding this fic so I thought I'd put it out there in case anyone knows the name :) - @ok-omens

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[necrotic-nephilim]

I’m gonna be honest I didn’t realize the new 52 messed with Kon that much till I read your post and now I can’t get over the potential. I’m a Tim/Kon girly at heart so I would devour anything you write exploring the 52 vs typical Kon. Also Time being in a clone sandwich is 👌.

the new-52 messed Kon up SO bad it's ridiculous. like, to the point i would personally argue he's a completely unrelated character to pre-Flashpoint/Rebirth Kon. his personality, his suit, his origin, all different. the only real similarities are the name and powerset. and even New-52!Kon's powers are slightly different from pre-Flashpoint!Kon. New-52!Kon is a clone of a future version of Jon Lane Kent, cloned by N.O.W.H.E.R.E. to provide genetic material to Jon Lane Kent, whose body was not handling being half human/half Kryptonian well, it was a whole thing. New-52!Kon is also where we get the infamous "Kon-El means 'abomination of the house of El' and Kara basically named him a slur in Kryptonian culture" tidbit, because that is the only time that's canon. (originally Kon-El was a name gifted by Clark to accept Kon as his family way back in the 90s) he also never went by Conner Kent. New-52!Kon just straight up didn't have any real human identity or connections, outside of being very close to Tim and some Titans.

the very TLDR of Kon's history is: during post-Crisis/pre-Flashpoint, a clone called Superboy is created by CADMUS. at first, he's considered to be a clone of a dude named Paul Westfield and is not Kryptonian whatsoever, he was simply made to look like Superman and only has Tactile Telekinesis as a power. then, it was made canon that actually he was a clone of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent, but Lex hid this fact and slowly, Kon developed more Kryptonian powers. he's given the name Kon-El by Clark, and is taken in by the Kents, getting the name Conner Kent. then Flashpoint happens, we get the New-52, and we're given the above version of Kon-El, who is a clone of Jon Lane Kent, created by N.O.W.H.E.R.E. who has mostly very strong telekinesis powers and some Kryptonian powers. he's with the Titans for a bit, then at the end of the New-52, he kills some aliens and feels bad about it so he decides to fuck off and is never seen again, it's presumed he's dead but never confirmed. then Rebirth happens and DC makes Jon Kent the current Superboy, we get Supersons and all that, and it's assumed that no version of Kon-El exists. just at all. he's not around whatsoever, Jon is our only Superboy. *but* in 2019, we get a new Young Justice run and the pre-Flashpoint Kon-El is back, and we're given the explanation of: Kon got accidentally teleported to this alternate realm called Gemworld and then Flashpoint happened, and since that was a Crisis Event that changed the timeline, the poor lad got *erased* from the timeline, causing most people to *not fucking remember him* and for him to remember a timeline that no longer exists. some of the Young Justice team vaguely remember him, Ma and Pa Kent remember him, but notably, Clark *does not remember him*. it's not an issue of "Clark ignored Kon in favor of Jon" it's an issue of "Kon was erased from the timeline and didn't exist for years bc he was stuck in Gemworld and Clark just doesn't remember Kon or Kon's timeline" which to me, is far more tragic but i digress. since then, Kon has been back and is present in most significant Superfamily runs, with his own recent mini-series, Superboy: Man of Tomorrow. (which was very good btw)

so basically: the New-52 fucked Kon up so bad they wrote him out of comics for years and then brought back the pre-Flashpoint version, but never *explicitly* killed the New-52 version off. so hypothetically, it's possible that there are currently two characters existing in the DC universe named Kon-El who have been Superboy. and like i said above, one of New-52!Kon's only real significant relationships was with Tim, it was the only thing the New-52 managed to get right about Superboy, his closeness to Tim. they have a *lot* of moments that read incredibly queer. and ofc, it's just outright confirmed in Dark Crisis: Young Justice that Tim had a crush on pre-Flashpoint!Kon at some point. so while comics are intent on pretending New-52!Kon doesn't exist, i am intent on putting Tim in a clone sandwich.

because i do think it's fun to play with Tim having genuine feelings and potentially a relationship with both of them. and the fucked up nature of him not fully *remembering* his relationship with pre-Flashpoint!Kon (which is a canon thing, in YJ(2019) Tim has vague memories of Kon he's struggling to piece together and understand why he cares about this guy he doesn't recognize so much) and how frustrating that is for Tim. he knows he loves Kon, but it's all foggy besides that. and so it's even *more* fucked up if Tim dated New-52!Kon before he got emo and ran off into the unknown. obviously in canon no one has told current Kon about New-52!Kon bc comics are doing the good ol' tried and true of "sweep that shit under the rug" but for fanfic, i think it's fun to ask the question of: would anyone *tell* Kon? especially Tim? who now remembers dating both versions of them? would he admit to Kon that briefly, he had another Kon? how would Tim cope with that and move on? personality wise, they could not be more different. they dress and act and look different. they're not the same person, but there's certainly a questionable factor of Tim's dating history including two Kon-Els.

the idea i've had for a while is Tim slowly starting to date pre-Flashpoint!Kon again. it feels familiar and like home. and Tim has grieved and accepted that wherever New-52!Kon is, he doesn't want to come home, he didn't love TIm enough to stay and try. so Tim takes the Kon he has, and genuinely has a happy relationship. like for once, life is good and things almost make sense for Tim. but then, of course, New-52!Kon comes back. he decides he wants to try again and he finds Tim. only to find well. he's been replaced. and technically, he's been replaced with the *original* that he didn't even know *existed*. and if being a clone is bad enough, that just makes it a hundred times worse. because imagine knowing you're actually the second Kon-El your boyfriend who you never *technically* broke up with fell in love with. that's gotta give you some kind of complex.

so i think it's fun if both Kons try to step back and let the other Kon date Tim. both of them have reasons to feel like the "replacement" or "fake" Kon, and it makes them incredibly awkward with each other. do they count as the same person? bc they definitely don't *feel* like the same person to each other, but with weird timeline stuff, who can really say. them settling on an awkward throuple that's really meant to be Tim just dating them both but somehow they end up dating each other too is so fun for me. they both feel like imposters to the Superboy name but are so deeply in love with Tim Drake, it's the one thing truly connecting them. and then of course, Tim feels bad in that somehow, he's betraying both of them for having feelings for the other. but they make it work, with a lot of awkward angst and miscommunication. i just think it'd be fun. very difficult to write to get all the weird timeline nuances down in a way that's understandable in a fanfic (bc you can't just. infodump like i did on this post) but doable. also difficult to tag, because even though i argue these are two different characters, i'm pretty sure Ao3 groups them under the same character tag. so it'd be difficult to convey it's not *really* as selfcest-y as it would imply. comics, man. DC will never acknowledge New-52!Kon again, and he's admittedly a terrible adaptation of Kon-El, but. i think he was sort of neat in his own right and i'd *love* for DC to just inexplicably bring him back and make the current Kon deal with the consequences of all that. and them make Tim kiss them both. obviously.

[bibuckkinard]

Of Holding On and Letting Go

Hi! I'm a day late, but this is for yesterday's prompt for @bucktommypositivityweek: Predicting the Future. Thank you to my bucktommy friends and @waywaychuck in particular for the title. 😊 I really hope you guys like it!

bucktommy - Words: 2.9k - Rating: G - Complete

“Well, Captain Kinard,” the committee member says and he really wishes he could remember the guy’s name. He tried squinting at the nameplate, but he left his reading glasses in the SUV and he can’t see it from here. “I’m assuming you have thoughts about this?” Buck stands, having long since gotten used to the name. The ‘Captain’ had taken even longer. He tucks his dress uniform hat under his arm. “I do.”

Or: Far in the future, Buck has some decisions to make about his life going forward.

Read on Ao3

tag list:

@desert--moonchild, @sazzynatural, @multishippinghussy, @mmso-notlikethat, @tommy-kinard-buckley,

@sunnywithachanceofbi, @sleepywinchesters, @buck-up-buckley, @manifestingchaoticvibes, @corvid-cryptidd

@lbltpsmspenguin, @theotherbuckley