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agendabymooner · 1 year

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jollibee, madrid and all that romance fiasco ! oscar p. x ofc (filipino!gen z!ofc)

summary: carlos sainz and his wife, magda, were heading back to spain after taking her and her cousins to the final race before the summer break. they hoped to have a decent break but their wishes were long gone as soon as the mclaren drivers told them about their plans to spend their week in madrid - where the couple conveniently lived.

OR oscar piastri had the fattest crush on magda's cousin, paloma 'lomi' san pedro, and needless to say, he wasn't even making it less obvious as he purchased a ticket to madrid just so he could spend his time with her. was he only looking for that summer romance or did he just fall in love with carlos' in-law?

content warning: use of explicit language, oscar and ofc shitting on each other, tagalog dialogues and translation ahead (i'm not as good as i used to be at speaking it, sorry lads), carlos sainz x ofc, mentions of alcohol use, fictional brother character (niño san pedro), carlos has a close relationship with his in-laws, A LOT OF JOLLIBEE, lando norris and oscar piastri being cultured (filipino), filo humour, lowkey protective!carlos

note: melody is in progress and i gotta let this out because i've been looking at too much unhinged filipino memes today. enjoy xx

masterlist

tagged carlossainzjr, charles_leclerc, landonorris, monamagdalena, ninojames

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, charles_leclerc

monamagdalena "rich in-law" 😭 liked by lomisanpedro

carlossainzjr you weren't "forced" to wear my number 🙄 get it right hermana liked by lomisanpedro

lomisanpedro ur right. i asked for charles' number and they just conveniently "ran out" of my size 🤔

landonorris look at that handsome man in papaya and black tho 🥵 liked by lomisanpedro

lomisanpedro i'm gonna pretend i haven't seen this comment 😕

landonorris guys i think she's a charles leclerc fan liked and pinned by lomisanpedro

oscarpiastri i have a lot of oscar piastri shirts in your size 😊 liked by lomisanpedro

ninojames what 😄

lomisanpedro how do u know my size 🧐

oscarpiastri i've been looking, observing and mentally measuring

carlossainzjr oscarpiastri compadre do you wanna repeat what you just said?

landonorris don't mind me i'm just watching 🍿🥤

logansargeant so you're the girl he's ogling throughout the week??? liked by lomisanpedro

lomisanpedro and you're the florida boy? 🤓

logansargeant fair enough. nice to meet you though 🤠

lomisanpedro likewise sarge 🤠

carlossainzjr posted a new story !!!

tagged ninojames, lomisanpedro, landonorris, oscarpiastri, carlossainzjr

liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, georgerussell63

user1 i just know it hits different spending your vacation in a filipino-spanish household 😭 liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena there's a lot of "ordinary" volume arguments that's for sure 😅

user2 rip oscar's vocal chords. i know it's barely there but it must've abandoned him the moment the sainz-san pedros pulled up the karaoke liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena landonorris might have slipped some tequila to get the party going for oscar 🙃

mclarenf1 lando we taught you better than this

landonorris mclarenf1 what happened to "one more shot lando!"

mclarenf1 i don't like these accusations, lando.

user3 i can just imagine lando, carlos and oscar yelling "THAT'S NOT HOW DRS WORKS" at your cousins lmfaooo 🤣 liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena yeah my cousins live to give carlitos a headache every once in a while - seeing as they live in philippines and all

carlossainzjr we should have a daycare, mi corazon, because we don't get paid enough for this liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena i agree bebe, if anything we lose more than we earn money 🥲

ninojames stop lying to me carlossainzjr you literally helped me get my tourist visa because you said "you wanted to see your favourite cousin"

lomisanpedro oop- lemme just send this to caco rq 🤭

carlossainzjr ay lomisanpedro you do that, i'm not gonna set up the ac in your room 😒 see how long you'll withstand the heat in spain

lomisanpedro i live in ph but yes po master 😇

lomisanpedro if i have to go golfing one more time, i'm gonna hit you with the club landonorris carlossainzjr ninojames

ninojames speak for urself lmfao

landonorris it's ok i can take it paloma 🤪

carlossainzjr watch your words landonorris

landonorris that's not what i meant ??? 🤬

oscarpiastri barca did good last night no? liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena heheheh carlossainzjr what do you think?

lomisanpedro carlossainzjr you should've shot him in the foot with the paintball when you had the chance 🤡

carlossainzjr i really should have.

landonorris that's tactical and against the fia rules carlos know better.

mclarenf1 yeah what landonorris said ^^

oscarpiastri that is incredibly mean of you, lomisanpedro 🥲

lomisanpedro show me how you cry rq??

tagged landonorris, oscarpiastri, lomisanpedro

liked by carlossainzjr and monamagdalena

monamagdalena putang ina pati pa naman sa spain, y'an pa din kinakain niyo? what the fuck, that's (jollibee) what you guys are still eating even in spain? liked by ninojames

ninojames patingin nga kung pa'no yung galit na mukha ate hahahaha ate, show me how you make an angry face

lomisanpedro ba't ka inggit lmaooooo why are you jealous

monamagdalena hoy lomi at niño, nagluto ako kanina di niyo ba kinain 'yon? i cooked earlier today, didn't you guys eat it?

lomisanpedro maarte yung mga bisita mo madam bertud. your guests are picky, madam bertud.

oscarpiastri monamagdalena I AM NOT picky, do not listen to what that gremlin is telling you

landonorris we ate and even washed the pot of sinigang so that gremlin is lying

lomisanpedro this gremlin is her cousin and how tf do y'all know what we're saying-

landonorris we're very smart men

oscarpiastri i'm a diplomat on the side

carlossainzjr NIÑO YOU AND LANDO JUST RACKED UP OUR BILL FOR DOING THAT TO OUR OVEN 🤬 liked by ninojames

ninojames lando was teaching me his dj skills 😕

carlossainzjr DONT MESS WITH THE OVEN LANDOOOO

landonorris we were trying to get lit 😭 you literally had nothing in there but uno and monopoly wtf were we supposed to do???

carlossainzjr i don't know? not play with fire and not rack up our house bill?

oscarpiastri are we having a filipino language session tomorrow then? liked by ninojames

ninojames with tequila?

oscarpiastri i found their stash so yeah with tequila- we should get some bucket of chickens for the session too :)

landonorris wag puro pulutan, dapat inom din. don't just eat, you have to drink too. liked and pinned by ninojames

lomisanpedro I HAVE TAUGHT YOU WELL, YOUNG PADAWAN 🤩

ninojames monamagdalena rate my teaching skills ate magda

monamagdalena what are you guys teaching these two??? 😭

oscarpiastri the basics magda 😊

INCOMING: dog show 😎 (oscar) SENDER: my pal(oma) 🐝 (paloma)

tagged jollibee, lomisanpedro

liked by carlossainzjr, logansargeant, landonorris

user1 BRO HARD LAUNCHED HIS CRUSH WTF 😭 what god did you pray to?

user2 puro jollibee si bro edi sana nag pinas ka na lang 😭 bro eats a lot of jollibee like you should've just gone to philippines instead

user3 madrid is paloma san pedro, in case you guys didn't know 🤭

landonorris god you are so whipped

mclarenf1 jollibee x mclaren when? 👀

jollibee when there's a philippine grand prix 🐝

ninojames oh so you ditched our session for this? for this ugly ass? liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri we got some palabok and two buckets of chicken joy and we're otw home 😅

ninojames ok maybe i can let you slip for once

lomisanpedro you are so annoying liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri annoyingly considerate when it comes to you because you wanted jollibee this morning 🤭😊

user4 there is too much filipino rizz within pastry guys i think he wins this one

logansargeant was this why you've been rejecting my facetimes today?

oscarpiastri you can wait. jollibee can't.

user5 i'm sorry logan but i agree with him this time

user6 him tagging jollibee 😭 this man is clearly obsessed

bonus !!!

PS the fictional san pedro people

ramona magdalena 'magda' (ibañez) san pedro sainz (carlos' wife)

niño james (balagtas) san pedro (carlos' cousin-in-law)

paloma 'lomi' (balagtas) san pedro (also carlos' in-law)

312 notes · View notes

punkshort · 1 year

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Chapter warnings: language, violence, angst

A/N: I have very little knowledge of the NYC subway system, or the NYC landscape, really (I've only been there once). Just use your imagination lol it's fiction!

Chapter Nine

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

You sat perched on a couch in the living room while Joel tended to the body in the kitchen, but only after he confirmed you were alone. You felt numb, like there was an aching hole in your chest about to destroy you. Staring at the ground with your jaw slack, you rocked back and forth with your knees pressed to your chest, reliving the murder you just committed. His blood was warm and sticky over your face and chest as you drove the heavy statue into his skull repeatedly, brain matter spattering out on the floor. You remembered slipping in the blood when you had to shift your weight and get better leverage. You remembered the helpless moans and gurgles the man made in the beginning, before the fourth or fifth strike put an end to him. But you had kept going, kept crushing his face until he was unrecognizable. You had no idea you could do something so savage, so brutally unhinged, and you were terrified. The only other time you could recall feeling that type of rage was in Joel’s office a week ago. But even then, you were just mad. This was different. This was violent and sick. You felt your stomach churn and you glanced around frantically under the light of a lantern to find a receptacle. You spotted a garbage can under a desk at the side of the room, and you made it just in time, kneeling on the floor and heaving into the basket.

Hearing the noises from the kitchen, Joel reappeared in the living room, quickly wiping his hands of blood before you saw. Once you had stopped and leaned back, Joel took a few tentative steps forward. “You alright?” he asked, fully aware how ridiculous the question was, but he didn’t know what else to say.

All you could do was shake your head, then you buried your face in your hands, trying to hold back the next wave of tears. Joel picked up your canteen from the side of the couch and brought it over. You took a small sip before screwing the lid back on. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“I’m going to jail,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “What am I going to do, Joel?”

He shook his head, sitting down on the floor next to you. “You ain’t goin’ to jail. I don’t think that’s the world we live in anymore.” He finally got a good look at you for the first time. You were covered in blood, your clothes were ruined, your face only clean where your tears washed away the carnage. He stood up and headed back to the pantry, which now was home to two dead bodies shoved against the far wall under a sheet. He reached down to the packs of unopened water bottles and grabbed as many as he could carry. Joel stood up and was about to exit when he remembered the gun. He put the water bottles on the kitchen island and dug the gun out from under the groceries on the floor. He opened the chamber and confirmed it was fully loaded before tucking it into the back of his pants.

He returned to you with the bottles of water in his arms. "Why don't you go wash up and change your clothes? I got some water here, and I'll get you some towels, then you should really try to get some sleep."

You didn't feel like moving, but Joel was right. Smelling the coppery blood and feeling how tight it made your skin as it dried was a sensory nightmare. You stood up wordlessly and headed back towards his bedroom, while Joel followed behind you with the water. You walked into the bathroom and stood in the middle of the huge room you once envied, but now you were struggling to feel anything at all. Joel brought the lanterns in for you and opened the shower door, setting the water bottles down on a bench. He turned around and opened the linen closet, pulling out a few towels, wash cloths and a basin. He set all the supplies on the counter and faced you, still standing and staring.

"Do you," he cleared his throat, "do you need help, or...?" He trailed off, unsure what to do for you. He just hoped getting clean and some sleep will help.

You shook your head, but before he left you asked quietly, "Can you bring my pack in here? My clothes-"

"Right, 'course, yeah, hold on," he hurried out to the bedroom and brought your pack to you. "Holler if you need anythin'." And he shut the door behind him.

You sighed, dragging your weakened form over to the basin, grabbing it along with the washcloths and putting them alongside the water in the walk-in shower. You peeled your shirt off, soaked in so much blood that it made a wet noise as it lifted from your skin. You weren't sure where to put your clothes, so you balled them up and put them in one of the two sinks. You stepped into the shower and filled the basin with a few bottles of water, deciding to dip your hair in first to scrub the dried blood out. You reached up and grabbed Joel's shampoo that smelled clean and fresh, like oranges. The scent lifted your spirits a small fraction until you moved one of the lanterns over to the basin of dirty water and saw just how red it was. You felt your stomach roll again, but this time you held it together and moved the light away, dumping the water down the drain and refilled it to rinse your hair.

You completed this process as you made your way down, scrubbing your face and ears until you felt raw, then your arms, chest and hands. Your lower half wasn't in bad shape, but your fingernails were the worst part. You did your best, but there was still a little bit of blood stuck under them when you had finished.

You wrapped your hair up in one of the big towels Joel gave you and wrapped the other around your body. You stood there for a few moments, staring at yourself in the mirror under the light of the lanterns, feeling numb and tired. You didn't think you would be able to sleep earlier, but it turned out your body was exhausted. You felt weak as you picked some clothes out of your pack and pulled them on, quickly drying your hair and hanging the towels up before opening the bathroom door.

Joel was waiting at attention on the other side of the door the entire time you cleaned up, in case you needed something. He stood when you opened the door, pleased to see you had scrubbed all the blood off and looked more like yourself, but when his eyes met yours, he didn't see the light in them anymore. His chest tightened, hating himself for putting you through this. You stood before him, unsure of yourself, glancing around the room.

"Let's sleep in the living room, would that make you feel better?" he asked you. You nodded, and he grabbed the pillows and blankets off the bed before heading down the hall back to the couches. He made a makeshift bed on a couch for each of you, and you eagerly buried yourself under the blanket, your eyelids getting heavy. Before you fell asleep, you remembered your clothes in the bathroom.

"Joel?" you whispered, your voice crackling from disuse. He immediately sat up from the couch across from you.

"What d'you need?" he asked.

"My clothes, they're in your sink, I wasn't sure what to do with them."

"Oh, right, I'll get rid of 'em, you go to sleep I'll be right back."

You didn't have to be told twice, sliding your eyes shut as a restless sleep overtook you. Joel got a trash bag and a few more bottles of water from the pantry. He got to work bagging up the empty bottles of water and your bloodied clothes, then did his best to wash the shower and sink of any remaining blood so you didn't have to see it in the morning. When he returned, after throwing the bag of garbage in the pantry with the dead bodies, you were fast asleep.

He laid on his couch, berating himself over and over for letting this happen. Had he not been so goddamn distracted with thoughts of fucking you, he would have heard the intruders and maybe got the jump on them before you even woke up. Or maybe his distracted thoughts keeping him awake was what saved you both. He would never know, but what he did know was you were put in that position because he wasn't careful. He should have been quieter, he should have grabbed the gun, he should have expected a second intruder. When he inspected the apartment after he calmed you down, he saw they had jimmied open the lock on his door. He had no idea how they did it so quietly. Maybe had he gone right to bed, he wouldn't have heard anything, and you would both be dead.

He rubbed his hands up and down his face roughly, agitated, feeling helpless and riddled with guilt. These feelings for you had to stop. Tonight was a close call, and he wasn't going to risk anything happening again. His sole focus had to be just on your safety and survival going forward.

He shut his eyes, desperately trying to get a few hours of sleep before another long day tomorrow.

Both of you woke up a little later than you had intended, but given the events from last night, Joel figured you both could have used the sleep. You still weren't saying much, but your face looked like it had a little bit more color to it, and he hoped that meant you were coming around. Joel grabbed another armful of water bottles from the pantry, the smell of the bodies beginning to fester in the closed room, and used them to refill your canteens and wash up once more before your long journey. He unpacked the clothes he had stolen from your neighbors and repacked clothes that he picked out of his closet, in the process also grabbing a few smaller t-shirts that didn't quite fit him anymore to offer to you, since you had to get rid of one of your own. When he walked back into his living room, he saw you leaning over and examining some framed photos on a sofa table against the wall, running your finger over the frames and faces in the photos.

Joel cleared his throat to announce his presence, and you jumped back guiltily, spinning around to face him.

"Those are all old pictures, like I said before, I'm terrible at changing 'em out," Joel said, trying to draw you out more. You gave him a weak smile.

"You and Tommy looked so young in some of these."

He smiled, pleased that you were warming up a bit, and walked over to look at the pictures. He frowned slightly when he saw the same picture from the rodeo that he had hanging in his office, completely forgetting he still had it out. But you pointed to an older portrait instead.

"Are these your parents?"

Joel nodded and picked the picture up to look at it more closely. It was his parents on their wedding day. The picture was faded but he could still see the warmth and happiness in their eyes.

"They passed some years ago," he said, placing the picture down gently, "heart attack and lung cancer. Within a year of each other," Joel said softly.

You hummed apologetically, your eyes glancing over the rest of the frames before landing on the one at the rodeo. You opened your mouth to ask but remembered what Colleen had mentioned about an ex-fiancée, so you stopped yourself, but Joel saw where your gaze landed. He picked up the picture and looked at it wistfully.

"That was a fun night, rodeo up in Dallas. Tommy got so drunk we had to keep him from goin' down in the ring and jumpin' on one of those bulls himself," Joel chuckled.

You smiled, and still avoided bringing up the third person in the picture, but he answered the question for you anyway.

"That's Amy," he began, smile faded from his face, "we, uh, we were engaged. Didn't work out. Caught her cheatin' on me." He placed the picture back on the table.

"I'm sorry, Joel," you whispered, genuinely apologetic for feeling like he had to share that with you. He shook his head and turned back to the kitchen.

"Let me get you somethin' to eat before we head out, I'll bring out different things to pick from," he said.

Joel headed towards the kitchen, not realizing you were on his heels. He did his best to clean up the blood from the night before, but it was dark, and his resources were limited. There were still some stains in the grout of the tile and on the oak cabinet. You balked when you entered the room, somehow momentarily forgetting you killed a person less than 12 hours ago.

"I'm sorry, I did the best I could. Go back in the living room, I'll bring you somethin' to eat." Joel said, turning you away by the shoulders and giving you a gentle push in the opposite direction.

"Don't be sorry, Joel. You saved us last night," you said over your shoulder.

He paused, not sure how to approach the topic with you for the first time, worried he would upset you further.

"No, you saved us, and you shouldn't've had to do that," he said firmly.

You turned back around to face him, this time unphased by the blood stains he had tried to hide, looked him right in the eye.

"Us or them, remember?"

The two of you stared at each other for a minute, something shifting. There was a mutual understanding before, but now it had been solidified with your actions. It was one thing to say the words, but another to follow through. You had both killed somebody yesterday in order to save the other.

You each ate handfuls of trail mix, peanut butter crackers, and dry cereal before Joel restocked your packs with whatever food could fit, making sure to jam in a couple cans of Beefaroni in his own pack. Before hitting the road, he went to the spare closet where he kept his gun safe. You hadn't noticed it in the dark when you arrived the night before. He unlocked the safe, and pulled out a rifle, a shotgun, and a small handgun, the latter of which he handed to you. You offered to hold one of the long guns as well, not wanting Joel to be burdened, and he reluctantly agreed, handing you the rifle. When he leaned forward into the safe you saw he already had a revolver tucked into the back of his pants. You almost asked him about it but figured it out on your own: the men you killed must have been armed.

"I didn't realize you were a hunter," you said, shouldering the rifle on your back.

"I'm not. Well, not really. Some of the clients Tommy signed tended to be more the "outdoorsy" type, so we would take 'em on hunting trips or shoot skeet," Joel explained, pulling the shotgun over his shoulder before adding, "Didn't bother me much, I'd rather shoot than play golf."

Joel didn't have much ammo, but he packed whatever he had into both of your packs, which were now filled to the brim. Grateful he was able to trade out his borrowed sneakers for his own boots, he laced them up as you slid your hiking boots back on and headed out towards the stairwell on your journey.

The pair of you made your way back down into the subway without any issue, feeling a bit more confident now that you were armed. You stopped for just a few minutes to check in with Josie and Peter's group. They were happy to see you had made it. Neither of you mentioned the events that took place the night before, both eager to put it behind you.

It took you a few hours to walk all the way to the end of the subway, as far as it would take you this time so that when you emerged, you wouldn't be on the streets for too long. You didn't speak much, and Joel was becoming a little worried, but he wasn't sure if there was anything he could do to fix it. He just kept trying to pull you out of your thoughts, asking you a question here or there, but your replies were quiet and short.

You decided to take a break before emerging from the tunnel and sat to eat on the last platform. You kept your eyes glued to the grimy subway tile floor as you munched slowly on a protein bar and some dried fruit. Joel sat next to you watching your unwavering gaze and mechanical movements while you ate, and he couldn't take it anymore. He dusted his hands on the side of his pants and sighed, getting your attention briefly before you returned to your food.

"I think we should talk about it," Joel said, and you paused your chewing, considering a response before ultimately deciding to ignore him.

"Listen," he sighed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "I'm not gonna sugarcoat this for you. Once we get out there, it's only gonna get worse. I can't promise somethin' like that won't happen again, but I'll do my best to keep you safe and get you to your parents."

You weren't sure why that angered you so much. It was probably all the pent-up emotions from the past several hours that boiled over, but you didn't care, so you shot your eyes up to glare at him.

"You think I don't know it's going to be worse, Joel? I'm not stupid," you snapped, furrowing your brow. "It doesn't mean I'm going to be okay with killing people."

"And you think I'm feelin' good about it?" he shouted, making you jump. "This ain't exactly what I had in mind a week ago."

He stood, his jaw clenched and his hands combing roughly through his hair as he paced around the platform. You stood up now, too. You realized the anger coursing through you had replaced the sadness, and in an effort to keep it at bay, chose to keep spurring Joel on.

"Don't put words in my mouth, that's not what I said!" you yelled back at him, finally feeling a spark breaking through the numbness inside, like ice being cracked. "No one appointed you to be my guardian, I can take care of myself. You think I don't know you're just helping me because you feel bad? I don't need your fucking pity, Joel, I can do this myself!"

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest and your hands began to shake, but most importantly the numbness inside was breaking up. Your face felt hot with anger, and you trained your gaze onto his when he whipped around to glare at you as you continued to shout.

"You have no obligation to me; we hardly even know each other!" Your breathing was picking up and you watched him flinch at your words, then his eyes flashed with fury, and he scowled at you.

"Oh, I think we know each other a little better than that," he shot back heatedly, nostrils flared. You gasped in shock, glaring at him, trying to come up with a good response to his vague reference to your kiss a week ago. You didn't think he would ever bring it up again.

He looked at you smugly now, crossing his arms over his chest. He was still pissed, but he was pleased to see you were at a loss for words. He was about to put an end to the argument and suggest you get moving when you charged right up to him and gave him a hard shove against his shoulders, making him stumble backwards.

"What the fuck?!" Joel uttered in surprise, swinging his arms out to his sides to regain his balance. You ignored him and shoved him again, this time only causing him to stumble back a little bit. He was about to reach out and grab your arms to stop you when it dawned on him. You needed this. You needed to yell and scream and push. He could see in your eyes that you were less distant, even though they were still filled with anger, you were looking more like yourself again. So, when you leaned forward to shove him a third time, he let you, standing strong and tall with his arms resting at his sides as you shoved him again and again. He would stumble back a little each time, but he kept his gaze pinned on your eyes, watching how they would soften and clear with each push to his chest.

You finally grew tired of shoving him, so you stood there, trying to catch your breath. You could feel your body again, the numbness that overtook your body last night finally was floating away, like taking your anger out on Joel was what made it crack and melt, like thick ice over a pond on the first warm day of sprng. You tilted your head back and sighed, wondering why Joel was the only person who managed to bring out this side of you. Last week in his office, you told him off without shedding a tear. That was so unlike you, you had never acted like that before. Then last night you had killed somebody to save him, and not just killed him but savagely and relentlessly bashed his skull in. And now today, he figured out how to draw you out and heal you. He was safe, he made you feel safe.

You brought your head forward to look at him, seeing the heat and intensity behind his eyes. He didn’t look mad anymore, but he regarded you questioningly, desperately trying to see underneath the veil, imploring you to take what you needed from him so you would be yourself again.

You felt this inexplicable surge of warmth and desire, your gaze darkened, and you licked your lips. You didn't know why, but you felt like he would do anything for you at that moment, so long as it made you forget the horrors you went through. You took one step forward hesitantly, keeping your eyes locked on his, and you reached out to run your hand up and down his arm, feeling his muscles jump under your gentle touch.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you murmured, taking another small step forward. “I didn’t mean any of that, I’m sorry.”

He gulped and let his gaze flick down to your hand rubbing his arm. When you stepped forward, he saw the look in your eyes, and his breath hitched. What were you doing? He shook his head and stepped back.

"It’s alright. We should get a move on, we gotta find somewhere safe for the night," he said, clearing his throat.

“Why don’t we just stay here?” you asked.

It was an innocent enough question, but the way you said it and the way you were looking at him said otherwise. He was struggling to keep up with your mood swings. "We got a lotta ground to cover, and there’s still daylight left, we shouldn’t waste it.”

He told himself his feelings for you were done, and he meant it. He had to focus, he had to keep you both safe. You clearly were still processing all your emotions and he couldn’t trust anything you were implying. So, he stepped away from your touch and headed for the stairs that led up to the street. You halfheartedly followed behind him, feeling more like yourself again, but also feeling something different, like this world was beginning to change you. You weren’t sure if it was for better or worse, but you knew you had at least come around to adapting to your environment. You killed somebody to save Joel’s life. You rose to the occasion, and you did what you had to do, and you didn't hesitate. You no longer felt like you were useless, and as fucked up as that sounded, it made you feel good.

You spent the rest of the afternoon trapsing through fields and forests on the outskirts of the city, trying to stay out of sight and quiet, taking very few breaks. Joel wanted to cover as much ground as possible and get far away from the city. You were still reeling from your argument, or whatever it was, in the subway. You weren’t sure what would have happened if he had leaned into your advances, but as more time passed, you knew it was for the best that he rebuffed you. You couldn’t remember if you were about to get your period, or maybe this was a normal reaction to murdering someone, but your emotions were all over the place. The longer you walked, the more at peace you felt with what happened. Joel was right – things were not going to get better, you had to toughen up, or else.

The sun was getting low, and Joel still hadn’t found a good place to set up camp. You kept walking as the evening turned to dusk, your eyes squinting in the small forest when Joel let out a frustrated groan. You looked up at him curiously.

“This is a good spot, there’s a stream nearby and it’s quiet but there’s not enough coverage. I don’t like how thin these trees are,” he explained, motioning to the young, skinny oak trees surrounding you. You sighed and sat down against one of the trees to take a break, opening your canteen as Joel remained standing and looking around as he considered building up some fallen tree limbs into a makeshift shelter.

You tipped your head back to drink, and that’s when you saw it: a treehouse, at least 40 feet above the ground, right above you. You stopped drinking and stood quickly to grab Joel’s arm, pointing up towards the top of the tree. He chuckled when he saw it, a smile spilling across his face.

“Yeah, that’ll do,” he said, turning to look at you happily.

You smiled at him, then looked back up at the treehouse above you. It wasn’t very big, but it was enough for the two of you and it had a roof. It was better than the alternative.

You went around the other side of the trunk where the ladder had been nailed into the wood and climbed up. Once you got to the top, Joel did a full sweep of the area surrounding you, confirming that no infected or people were nearby. He could see the stream from about 20 yards away. He couldn’t contain his smile again; this was perfect.

The contactor in him reviewed the construction of the treehouse to make sure that it would be sturdy enough to sustain two adults. He walked around to each corner, hunched over because the roof was maybe 5 feet from the floor, and gave the walls a firm shake to test their strength. There were three small windows sawed into each wall, the door being on the last wall, which meant Joel had a full view of your surroundings. The windows and door did not have any coverings, so it would be cold, but the waterproof sleeping bags you had should be able to keep you warm. He turned back to you, satisfied you'd be safe for the night.

"I think this used to be a hunting stand, then some kids turned it into a treehouse. See how the wood looks older in this part, and some of the roof is made from different material?" he said, pointing around to the spots in the shelter. "They added the walls themselves, matches the rest of the wood on the floor," he mused out loud. You had stopped rolling out your bag to listen to him and found it kind of amusing he was discussing construction with you after the last few days you've had, as if the world wasn't ending and it was just another day.

"Do you think we'll be safe here?" you asked, sliding your boots off and setting them next to your bed. Joel unrolled his bag on the other side of the treehouse, the side closest to the door. Without looking up at you, he nodded.

"As safe as we can get, yeah."

You couldn't shake the guilt for the way you treated him earlier. What you said was exactly right: he had no obligation to you, but he stayed by your side anyway, and saved you a handful of times. You had already apologized, but the way you went about it didn't come across as sincere. You had nearly thrown yourself at him, completely confusing you both, so you wanted to try again.

"Hey, listen, about earlier," you began, making him pause from rooting around in his pack, but still didn't look up at you. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean it. Any of it. I think I was still in shock; I don't know what came over me." You took a moment to let your words settle before continuing. "I'm really grateful for everything you're doing, I would already be dead if it wasn't for you." You held your breath, hoping you came across as genuine as you felt.

Joel tried to hide his disappointment. It was hard to hear you didn't mean any of it. He knew you didn't mean what you said, but he couldn't help but wish you had meant the way you looked at him in the subway, with a heat behind your gaze he never expected to see again after the way he treated you. But maybe that was what he needed to hear so it would help put a stop to the overwhelming feelings he was struggling to contain on his own.

He brought his gaze up to finally meet yours, trying to hide the sadness as he gave you a warm smile.

"I know, you don't got to apologize, it's alright," he said quietly.

You looked at his face closely. You didn't fully believe it, you could tell something still bothered him, but you chose to let it go.

After you had settled in for the night, each of you tucked into your sleeping bags, you whispered out into the darkness.

"Us or them, right?"

You thought maybe he had already fallen asleep since you were met with silence, until you heard his voice, thick with emotion, reply.

"Us or them."

Chapter Ten

Taglist: @chiogarza

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us game #the way we were joel miller fic

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saintmuses · 8 months

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❝𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙝, 𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙧❞

Pairing:

Lenny Miller x Reader

Summary:

She never got to marry, or bear children, or have a house with a white picket fence. She never got to grow old either. Even in death, she would never be able to escape from the man who loved her a little too much.

Warning(s): Death. Implied murder. Angst. Implied toxic relationship. Age gap (10 years apart between Reader and Lenny). Major power imbalance. Dark!Lenny. Minors, dni! Note: I was trying to make this something that you would read from a non-fiction crime book which includes many characters from Anna so it does not feel personal. Reader is a Russian American in this one. Also the switch between ‘Leonard’ and ‘Lenny’ is intentional. The title is from Mirrorball because I thought it was fitting of how it refers to the end of something, therefore the end of one’s life as they know it.

Word Count: 3.3k

1995

"It was something I would do, but I would've never expected her to do it. She and I were very different in that sense." Anna Poliatova, her best friend from childhood days murmured softly, her accent curled around the letters as she sat down in a chair for the interview regarding the crime documentary. She had eyes that were colored like the sky, and platinum hair, straight as spineless grass in the plains.

"1990 was something for her," she then laughed. "She met someone I never even knew about, but I found out in her diary of an early 1990 entry of a man named Leonard Miller."

April 16, 1990

Dear Diary,

When you meet someone, how would you picture meeting someone? One day, they would be a stranger to you, but they could be everything but a stranger tomorrow.

I didn't expect to meet Leonard Miller yesterday, but everyone knew of him.

I mean he is an agent handler for Central Intelligence Agency, his reputation precedes him everywhere he goes in that workplace. What attracted me to him right away was how he eluded power and raw presence. He commanded attention as soon as he walked into the room. I had to talk to him because of my job; I’ve been assigned as a secretary for the director of CIA.

The day before, you would be doing something so mundane, right up to the moment, and that was when everything changed. I haven't felt this way in a long time, like a schoolgirl's crush on a man who is very handsome, but very off-limits. There’s a workplace code set in place for something like this. My brain had to remind myself that we cannot be more than just co-workers, no fraternizing around, but my heart didn't care.

I was never supposed to be that person.

Never.

Y/N.V.

Y/N Vasilisa—Love to those close to her due to the meaning of her last name—was born in New York in 1966 to her parents Arseni Vasiliy and Janet O’Conner.

Aurora, New York was a town where families would bloom while the others faded.

Arseni Vasiliy was born in Moscow, USSR, and migrated to America when he was nineteen and met a girl from a town over, then fell in love with her. They were married in 1964, two years before Y/N was born. "She kept him on his toes, and they made the marriage work. They had good years," his friend recalled, a brief appearance. "Really good years."

Janet, her mother was very protective of Y/N, perhaps because she was the baby, the only child of the family. They were close, close as best friends could've been.

The Vasiliys were the poster child of what family should really look like. It was a small family, but it was home.

Y/N met Anna Poliatovia in English class when she was a teenager. She came to America as a foreign exchange student from Soviet Union program. They were the duo that every girl was jealous of, and every guy wished they would've gotten together with.

Y/N Vasilisa was an honor student, had perfect grades all four years of high school, and became a valedictorian for her class.

Everything had changed a month before her graduation in 1984. Her parents died in a tragic car accident. Their slow but terrible deaths were caused by fire when a drunken driver of semi-truck crashed into them.

She moved to New York City after she graduated from high school, wanting to get away from the town that used to be so kind to her.

In a utopia world, no one would die. In the real world, parents weren’t supposed to bury their children. In a twisted sense, they made the natural order of death happen. Y/N had to bury them at eighteen.

She went to a community college while working for a company as a secretary during the week, and she would complete double shifts as a waitress at a restaurant on the weekends to be able to afford an apartment she lived in.

As Y/N struggled to make the ends meet, Leonard Miller was on his way to becoming an operative for CIA.

Leonard’s father was born in Europe in 1928, but his family moved to America specifically Hawaii in 1935, although it was not a part of fifty stars for another few decades. When his father was twenty-one, he met his wife at a shore, and they were married before finding a job as a constructor while his wife was a housewife and a mother of four children.

Elizabeth was the first and only daughter that was welcomed to the world in 1951, John was born two years later, then it was Leonard and Maxwell after that.

The family experienced a devastating loss when the patriarch of the family died of a heart attack at the age of fifty-three in February 1981, leaving his wife, children, and grand-children behind.

While the women of the family were soft-spoken, soft hearted; the men were stolid, hardworking, and they set their minds to succeed in America.

All men but one worked for a construction company that their father built with his partner. The company became Miller and Co. when it thrived in Pearl City, and the boys except one joined.

The third child of the family did not want to work for the construction company, opting to make a path for himself.

Leonard -Lenny for short- was born in 1956, the third child, but second boy in the family. He had dark brown hair, icy blue eyes so piercing that someone would feel like he was looking into their soul. He did almost everything first, he was not only an honor student, but he was also undeniably his parents' favorite son out of four children. He was hardworking and disciplined like his father, quiet and conservative like his mother.

John and Maxwell, his brothers were the opposite of it. They were the life of the party, the charmers who could work a room full of strangers and leave with a bunch of friends.

They were very much loved by their parents despite the differences in all of them.

To them, Leonard was the good brother. The one who could give dependable advice. To school, he was quite unattainable. Polite, friendly, only mingling when he had to, but he knew how to have fun as well.

When he was eighteen, he graduated from high school in 1974, and enlisted in military. It was there he was recruited to become an CIA operative thus moving to Washington DC to be close to Langley.

Despite being the second oldest brother, he did take over the proceedings of the patriarch after his father's death, but he refused to do anything with the construction company. His other brothers were there to run the business while he and his sister were there for their mother.

Before his father's death, he accepted a promotion to become CIA Agent Handler.

And he was thirty-four years old when he met Y/N Vasilisa.

"She was filled with life," Lenny said softly, fingers tracing the surface of the table in front of him as he stared down at the patterns, remembering the night he met her. "She was something else," he swallowed thickly before turning his head away, not without a hint of regret in his icy depths.

Y/N met the director of CIA when she moved to Washington DC after college, who recruited her to be his secretary in late 1989 and having the career that aligned the path of the position as CIA Operative Handler, it was inevitable.

"I remembered being there when they first met," Maud Lebereva, her friend and co-worker recalled. She had buzz cut brown hair and wide doe eyes, she also migrated to the states from Russia when she was a teenager. "He came in to have a meeting with the director about an upcoming mission in then-USSR, he had his eyes on her way before she noticed him. It would've been sweet if it was something else, but I saw something I knew wasn’t sweet." She murmured, shaking her head.

No one knew anything about them. They had started meeting at lunchtime, getting to know each other, it was harmless. Anyone who walked down the streets in the DC area would see them sitting outside in cafes, laughter could be heard from them, and they looked like they were friends, best of friends even.

They were friends for a few months until early summer of 1990 when the director of CIA had a gathering where every person must attend the function.

He had to walk her to her home that night, and that was when the dynamic changed for them. A soft kiss on her cheek, a pair of lips pressed against her skin slowly before withdrawing, and she had blushed viciously.

After that night, they weren't just friends. They were on their way to becoming lovers.

No one knew about them. They talked through phone calls that would be on the side tables, they emailed each other, and they would do anything discreetly.

He was still unobtainable, and she was still feeling guilty. Although, he had said he loved her in the summer of August at the Bahamas when he took her out for a vacation under the disguise of attending a seminar. Somehow, in her mind his declaration of love made everything seem alright.

It wasn't until late November when everything started to unravel around her. She met a very sweet man Alex Tchenkov through a friend and knowing there couldn't be any more than just an affair between Lenny and her, she went for it.

That was when she realized she had the idea of love wrong. Love wasn't about swearing an oath not to be seen, keeping the lines blurry between what was right and wrong, and it wasn't supposed to feel poisonous. It felt deadly, like a bitter taste of acid whenever she looked back to the months of her affair with Lenny.

Her friend, Anna was in Langley for Christmas, and Y/N took her out to a bar in Washington DC. Afterwards they sat on the concrete edge of Tidal Basin for a long time until the sun began to set over the capital, talking. The blonde woman gave Y/N an early Christmas gift, and she started to cry.

"She cried for a really long time," Anna said thoughtfully, nibbling on the side of her bottom lip. "I didn't know she was trapped in a wrecking affair at that time, but she was crying because she said she didn't deserve Alex," she remembered idly. "I was confused, but at that moment I knew there were so many things about her, many secrets that she hadn't told him, and she was really scared she would lose him if she was honest with him."

Eventually one person found out in February, it was Maud who had introduced her to Alex. She had sworn to keep it as a secret, and there were times when they would all meet for lunch.

"Despite my ill-feelings towards Leonard, he was a good person to people around him that I knew of. Figuring him out, and not being able to put a finger on why he gives me a bad vibe, that is where I can't stand him." Maud murmured; her eyes flickered briefly to the window. "I do remember one time I sympathized with him when it came to Y/N, it was a dinner at a really expensive restaurant, and he offered to pay." She laughed slightly, although it sounded uneasy.

The whole dinner affair was tense, it was to say with the understatement of the century. Y/N barely gave Leonard any time of the day, only cordially polite even it would make the worst of the worst dictators silently kneel to the ground.

At some point during the evening, Y/N excused herself to the ladies' room. When she was gone, Lenny had turned to Maud and asked why Y/N hated him.

"I was surprised when he asked me that," she paused, thinking back to that night. "He sounded desperate and sad, and it was that moment I felt bad for him.".

Maud tried to give him an excuse not knowing how to placate his emotional being, and she knew the sad pitiful look on Leonard’s face was caused by Y/N’s attempts to leave so she could be completely in a relationship with Alex. She did wonder if Leonard had any feelings for Y/N after all. If he did, it would be too bad.

"I mean I knew Y/N was irrecoverably in love with Alex, and I just felt bad for Leonard because he didn't stand a chance." Maud sighed, chuckling. The sound was not without a small amount of pity. "I just never knew how bad of a person he was to her. It's always the guys that can fool you easily, but not girls. However, she did fool me a bit." A grimace adorned on her face as she thought about it.

In the leading months, she and Alex got involved exclusively with fear gripping in the back of her mind that Lenny could ruin it all. Leaving her life into ashes if he ever exposed their affair to Alex.

"It was the one thing in her life she was most ashamed of," the brunette murmured, "but it wasn't her fault. I just wished she would understand that. However, he was a powerful man in Washington DC. He could easily ruin her life if he wanted to, and he did."

It was after midnight on July 5th, 1991, but there was a soft orange glow behind the curtains framing windows in the apartment. Silhouettes could be seen moving as six people roamed around the place restless. The fear had gripped them all after false-hope rationalizations failed to erase the tension Y/N had left them with.

Her other best friend had noticed something was wrong when Y/N didn't show up for dinner along with Maud.

"She didn't call to tell us she was running late, or anything really." Anna stated, her blue eyes glistening as she sniffed slightly. "I tried calling her several times, but it went straight to the voicemail." Her eyes flickered to the window as her lips turned down slightly. "I waited because she always called me back no matter what."

While they had waited for her, for the police, for some word, anything; they forced themselves to believe that she was okay, she had to be, the other option was something they didn't want to think about.

Ever.

"I remembered going through her room, finding her journal, and I thought as I stared at the slim book 'God help me that I will break her private cocoon she'd set up for her mind, but if it was to help us find her then so be it'." Anna murmured; her eyes closed briefly before opening. "I remembered there was some sort of a letter stuffed in the last page she'd written."

You asked me a long time ago after we met, 'what do you want?' in a teasing manner with a soft twinkle in your pretty eyes. What I want...is for you to be happy. I love you.

"It wasn't signed, but it didn't really have to be it was obvious, and that was when I knew Y/N had been harboring a secret for a long time." She shrugged before sighing, looking away. Her blonde hair swayed slightly. "She was definitely not perfect, but she was the best of us. Despite the flaws we harbored in ourselves, she saw the best in them, and I can see why she would look past his overbearing flaws in the beginning to see the best in him even when she shouldn't. I can't really fault her for that, she tried, and she did until it wasn't enough for her." She then hesitated, "and whatever she wrote in her last entry...I knew he’d read it because I know Y/N, she would've just thrown away the letter after reading it, not put it in her private cocoon where it would ruin her peace. The letter he put in was more of some correspondence to her journal right before everything..." she then paused; her bottom lip trembled as a gasp escaped from her mouth resonating in her lungs as a light sheen glazed over her eyes.

June 29th, 1991

Dear Diary,

There were times I questioned myself, in the beginning I could see why I wanted to be with Lenny despite all the wrong things that I have seen.

Now more than a year has passed, and I'm suffocating. The leash I didn't notice wrapped around my neck on the day we met had been becoming shorter and shorter, chipping away its inches as his control became iron-clad over time.

I had once asked him when I met him, he was the guy who had it all, and he did, but to assuage my curiosity, I had asked him "what do you want?"

And it was that particular conversation that changed everything for me.

We were doomed, entirely and truly.

I can't say it wasn't love at first, for me it was, but it wasn't for him. I had only noticed after I fell out of it was when I realized we were doomed. He was an agent with a dangerous future, and I was at a different place in life.

Being with Alex had made me see things differently, it made me realize that Lenny Miller is not the man I or everyone else thought he was. He is a narcissist, a liar who manipulated everything around him including me. He was like a rose, sweet at first until I touched the thorns and that was when he became cruel. I fell in love with the idea of him and accepted the false flaws until it got to the point where it all became too much for me to bear.

He knew I wanted the chains off my heart especially after meeting Alex. Especially when I want to be free, I need to be free, but he won't let me go. I know he will never let me go, and I'm afraid of whatever that means.

It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't love despite him saying it was.

I have to get away from him before the suffocation drives me to the grave.

Y/N.V.

"I did love her. I loved her more than anything in this world, even when she didn’t love me anymore, but I suppose no one would understand." Lenny had emphasized slightly, almost bitterly. His blue eyes were steely glinted when the light from the sun hit their depths, before the mask of indifference fell into place. "The last time I saw her was when she didn't want me to be in her life anymore." He had murmured before looking out to somewhere in the room. He had said when the sun began to set, everything fell apart around them, "and that was that." He then shrugged as if it explained it all.

THE NEW YORK TIMES

Tuesday, July 21, 1992

A MISSING AMERICAN WOMAN'S BODY FOUND IN LOIRE RIVER IN FRANCE

(Photo taken at the graduation in 1984)

The body of a 26-year-old woman Y/N Vasilisa who was reported missing a year ago on the 5th of July had been found in the Loire River under the boat dock in Nantes with a bullet wound in her head.

Vasilisa’s death, according to Detective Chief Marcel Clairmont of the Nantes Prosecutor's Office, was caused by bruising around the neck which resembled strangulation before the victim was killed with a bullet wound in the forehead. The cause of death was accurate after the autopsy was completed by the Washington DC Coroner Vincent Delacour. The prime suspect for her disappearance prior to her death, former CIA agent Leonard Miller’s DNA was not found anywhere on her body, and the bullet did not match his gun serial numbers thus eliminating him from the list of suspects...[read page five for more information].

#lenny miller x you #lenny miller x reader #lenny miller #anna (2019)#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #Lenny miller x y/n

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realshadow01-blog · 7 months

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*Pop* just like a candy apple! {Platonic Radioapple!}

Introduction

|| Hello! I just wanted to say hello again as I've been gone for almost two years, I think. :3 I wanted to start writing again, for some reason, and it's 2:43am. I am not sure if I would post this or not, depends if I feel like it.||

|| Sorry for the absence, and if any characters are ooc (out of character) too! I have watched all of season 1 - but I can't capture the characters personalities that well. And sorry if my grammar or wording is bad, I don't know that much English as I thought. ||

|| This is a tickle drabble/short fan fiction post, and I don't expect any - but I will be taking requests for drabbles and headcannons! ||

>> || Summary for introduction: I do not know much English, I haven't captured the characters that well, this is a tickle-based, short fan fiction and I'm sorry for my (almost) two year absence. And, I am taking requests for drabbles and headcannons (no art or fics :<) || <<

|| Warnings (I guess!): Tickles, Swearing ||

---

So, the Demon is back again! Back again with a new sense of humor and a new ruthless torturing method. The Radio Demon is back! He's returned, what does it mean for a certain rival? Or a few?~ The future will decide...~

It was a surprisingly quiet day in the Hazbin Hotel. Everyone was either out celebrating or having a full day in bed after they defeated the Angels. People were bummed out, injured and flat-out exhausted.

Lucifer decided to stay at the Hotel for a while, or at least visit often, and he was watching TV in the common room as he held his most prized rubber duck. Charlie was out with Vaggie, Angel and Husk were out too and pretty much the only people in the hotel were Niffty, Alastor and Lucifer.

Alastor was nowhere to be found, I mean, where would you expect an unpredictable being like him to be?

Nifty was off cleaning.

You already heard about Lucifer.

That changed when Alastor's shadow crawled around the floors of the hotel, until he emerged from thin air. His grin was as sinister and menacing as always, although something was off. It looked slightly strained. He was preciously annoyed by another Overlord, but we won't get into that, but it could be why... He then went to go find Lucifer, for some reason.

Lucifer was throwing his rubber duck against the wall and catching it like a ball, abandoning the television so all it became was simple background noise. He continued to throw the rubber duck until it hit Alastor in the face.

“Oops....” Lucifer giggled mockingly, not in the slightest sorry, but decided to apologize anyway to make matters better for him, if they were becoming bad. Although, Alastor, in return, grabbed the rubber duck and crushed it in his bare hand, sensing Lucifer's infuriated pity, despite Lucifer showing no emotion whatsoever. “Was that necessary, Alastor?”

“No,” Alastor's grin grew as he threw the shriveled rubber duck aside, his radio filter still as strong as ever, “but I wanted to. Doesn't that seem fair?~”

Lucifer groaned, annoyed. “What kind of shitty question is that!?”

“A reasonable question that needs answering.”

“Well, I won't fuckin’ answer!”

“...”

“As you wish.” Alastor's grin grew, but still looked a little strained.

Lucifer, funny enough, saw his strained grin and smirked.

“Is the demon cracking at something?~ Are you pissy about your wound from Adam?~” Lucifer retorted, giggling, which absolutely broke Alastor's patience and before either of them knew it, Alastor had thrown himself at Lucifer and pinned him to the floor, scribbling his claws into Lucifer's sensitive, tender sides, earning a surprised squeal and a string of squeaky laughter. “EEK!!~ FUHUHUHUCK!!- ALAHAHASTOR!!??”

Alastor had just smirked, moving his hands to random spots to keep the short king occupied, sneakily slithering his tendrils to Lucifer and restraining him swiftly as the tips of the tendrils restraining him tickled into the crooks of his wings - the 'wings pits' if you will. No matter what they're called, they sent Lucifer into hysteria.

Lucifer's screaming, wheezing and frantic laughter could be heard basically throughout the whole of Hell from how loud it was. Alastor only had the slightest issues with that, so he closed some doors to prevent people from coming in, if they did try. “ALAHAHAHASTOR- WHEHEHEN IHI CAHAHATCH YOUHUHU ALAHAHASTOR!!- GAHAHAHA!!?”

That wasn't the worst of it, oh boy...

The main reason the phrase “Lucifer's screaming, wheezing and frantic laughter could be heard basically throughout the whole of Hell” was used because it was the truth. Not only was his laughter loud, but Alastor had been devilish enough to broadcast his laughter live! :)

“Go on, Lucifer,” *Alastor smiled menacingly, voice hushed, “Make the microphone pop like a candy apple...~” He teased, leaving him to face the torture and humiliation for a bit.

---

hope this was good!! sorry if it was short, i was pondering over a draft from a year ago and I haven't written a fan fiction in a hot minute >.<

{This MIGHT have some more parts!!!}

#hazbin hotel #sfw tickling community #lee #ler #lee!lucifer #ler!alastor #hh #hazbin hotel tickling #hazbin hotel tickles #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #ticklish!lucifer #i love this ajejjasjs #radioapple #appleradio #drabble #tickle fic #fluff?

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awakefor48hours · 8 months

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Update: they’re now @dailyanimeships (I'm blocked so no tag there :/) but it's the same person. Update 2: they’re blocked again. Let’s celebrate

Hello everyone, I need your help getting rid of someone that's been harassing people (myself included).

This is the person in question and I need your help to get rid of them and stopping any future harassment.

Even if you're not in the Black Clover fandom, I would appreciate a moment for your time to read this. For a bit of context, if you haven't seen Black Clover, the main ship in the show is Astelle (Asta x Noelle). In the show, Noelle has a massive crush on Asta (think Amity to Luz/Marinette to Adrien/Hinata to Naruto/etc, etc). It's pretty clear that Astelle will be canon but sometimes canon doesn't matter and people ship different things. Now onto this whole shit show.

Harassing in DMs

To start off, they're basically every shade of bigot. My moots and I have gotten really nasty DMs from dailyasnoel and I'm going to censor them because there's pretty bad slurs in them.

The first one was sent to me and the second one was sent to @the-geek-librarian

We're both in a server and everyone in this server (nearly 15 of us) have been blocked. Keep in mind, not a single one of us had ever interacted with them in our lives. We've all tagged our posts properly and haven't said a single negative thing about Astelle or their blog. They went out of their way to send us these DMs with very hateful slurs all because we don't want the same fictional teenagers kissing.

Harassing others

This isn't even the first time that dailyasnoel has gone after people simply for just shipping Noelle with another character. These two, ramiliadoesstuff and kcuf-ad have also posted about been harassed.

Along with that, there is now a ship week for Kahonoelle (a femslash ship involving Noelle) being run by moot @t-f-t (Alex) and this was the response to the original post (a post that was tagged properly and no malice towards anyone) announcing this.

This could've just been the end of it but they felt the need to send an ask to Alex expressing their disgust because there's people who don't want the same fictional teenagers kissing.

Then there's this lovely comment on that post.

Guess who's going to be extremely annoying during Kahonoelle week. (BTW, wouldn't it be really funny if we got them off the internet before their shit ass Astelle week).

Fanfiction

This harassment isn't just on tumblr either, it's on AO3 too.

I scrolled through the Yunoelle (Yuno x Noelle) tag on AO3 and the comments on some of these fanfictions are so vile. There's so many hate comments and I didn't even screenshot all of them because there's so many of them.

I found comments left by people with the username "dailyasnoel" and other guest users with different usernames that make similar comments to dailyasnoel because I assume it's the same person.

Making the Devils Cry

Yuno and Noelle Oneshots

When the Sea Goddess Snaps

Hot Tub Accident

While scrolling the Yunoelle tag, I noticed that there's people who have started limited their comment section, have deleted comments with responses like "dude, calm down," or have made their fanfictions private.

And even as a little side note, I want to make it clear that I was able to look at every single Yunoelle fanfiction on AO3 because it's not even a popular ship. There's only 31 fanfictions for them so a lot of these fanfictions are written by the same authors. On the other hand, Astelle has been consistently the most popular ship in the fandom and even has the most fanfictions. So it's not even like Astelle fans are hurting for fanfictions or that Yunoelle fans are invading their spaces.

The actual blog

The icing on this queerphobic, harassing, racist cake is that they're an art thief. Their blog only has art and all of it is from other people. There's no indication these are reposts, there's no signs that they got permission to repost these, nor any links to the original posters. (original art links > 1/2/3)

If you know nothing about Black Clover or the fandom, I want to make this abundantly clear, this is behavior is unacceptable. This fandom has been very peaceful as of late and this one person does not speak for Astelle fans in the slightest. The Astelle fans I've interacted with are quite lovely, and if Asta or Noelle or Tabata (the creator) saw this, they'd be disgusted.

Whether or not you're in the Black Clover fandom is irrelevant. This is a horrible person and art thief, please report and block this person. Together, we can get rid of this person.

@dailyasnoel I know you have me blocked but if you happen to read this, I want you to know that if this small part of you that you show on the internet is even a modicum similar to how you behave in real life (joking or not), you are going to live a very sad and lonely life.

I hope you enjoy your own company because no one will want to be your friend, no one will support you, and above all else, no one will mourn you. Your absence will be treated with nothing but joy and whimsy because you are a sad and pathetic parasitic monster.

#best part about all this #dailyasnoel couldn't even be right #i don't even ship yunoeIIe #i ship kahonoeIIe #i headcanon yun0 as aroace #AND i do (guess i should say “did” now) like asteIIe #anyway prepare to feel the wrath of someone who barely makes minimum wage

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keiththecat · 1 year

Text

The Tortoise and The Hair

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (You)

Summary: You've been hunting with the Winchester brothers for a while, and you've developed feelings for the older Winchester. Unbeknownst to you, he has feelings for you as well. Will you both admit to these feelings when a coincidence brings emotions to a head?

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+, cursing, male nudity (shower), pistol mention, knife mention

Author's Note: This is my first every fanfic! Y/N is your name, y/h/c is your hair color, and italics are thoughts. The mentions toward male nudity are not super detailed, but the mentions are there. Feedback is welcome! Thanks for reading <3

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the related characters. The Supernatural series is created by Eric Kripke and owned by The CW Network. This work of fan fiction is for entertainment only. I am not making a profit of any kind from this story. All rights of the original Supernatural series belong to The CW Network.

AO3 link here

"You've got to be kidding me." You run your hands through your hair in frustration.

"Sorry, Y/N, looks like another day without a hunt," Sam continues scrolling on his laptop, hoping he can find something to prove himself wrong, even if just to make you happy.

"There's got to be something. Come on, Sam, I can't be stuck here in the bunker again."

It's been weeks without a hunt. Not a single one. Sam has kept busy with research, but you've been itching to get away. Chuck only knows what Dean's been doing, he's been avoiding you every second of every day. You've even been starting to wonder if you should move out of the bunker and go back to your solo hunting ways. Your stuff is always mostly packed, you could be out of here in less than 3 minutes. Sam being like the brother you never had is the only reason you haven't yet. Well, that and your crush on the older Winchester.

"Y/N," Sam sighs, closing his laptop and crossing his arms on top of the table to look at you seriously. "There's more to this than just boredom, isn't there?"

You scoff, "of course not. I'm just bored. And itching for kills. You know me." You lie through your teeth, hoping Sam will accept this answer and drop it.

"Y/N, you know you can talk to me."

You stare at each other for several painful seconds before you break. "Fine. I just feel like Dean hates me."

Sam places his hand on yours. "You know that's not true. Why would you think that?"

You roll your eyes. "Come on, Sam. He avoids me at all costs. He doesn't even come out for meals together anymore. Let alone not talking to me, he doesn't even talk to you if I'm around! He just motions for you to follow him to another room. You can't honestly say he's happy I'm here." You get up to start walking away when you both hear Dean's yell from down the hall.

"Son of a BITCH!"

With one look at Sam and panic in your eyes, you both take off running.

A few moments earlier....

Dean:

Another boring day. Alone. Ever since you moved in months ago, Dean just can't seem to bring himself to have any one night stands. He tries his best not to ignore why that is. He'll just keep avoiding you and quietly checking with Sam about what's going on, if there are any leads on hunts, how you're doing...

No. He doesn't want to spiral down this hole again. He can't follow through. Bad things happen when he and Sam get involved with anyone. He won't subject you to that. Maybe if he keeps avoiding you, you'll get sick of it and leave the bunker, minimizing your risk of being targeted because of them. He's upset enough that Sam refuses to do the same, instead being nice to you all the time. Hell, you and Sam are practically inseparable, you even have movie nights together.

Maybe he can make his feelings for you go away if he avoids you enough. He can stop thinking about how you light up a room when you laugh, instantly making his mood brighter. Or how your cooking always smells the most delicious, even the most simple foods weave a decadent smell throughout the halls. Or how you're always waiting at the bottom of the stairs after the brothers run for supplies, smile on your face and arms wide open to hug Sam.

Maybe if I stop ignoring her, I could fall into those arms, hold her close, smell that enticing perfume of hers up close...

Somehow you've managed to integrate yourself into every aspect of his life, despite his attempts to keep you out. He's constantly finding your post-it notes with cute doodles in the most random of spots, inside kitchen cabinets and books that have been untouched for months. He even found one under the sink one day, a stick figure drawing wearing a trench coat, an arrow pointing from the word baby to the figure. Sam had to explain that one to Castiel, who then laughed and asked you excitedly if he could keep it.

He shakes his head and runs his hand down his face, as if that will clear the thoughts.

I need to think of annoying things about her. Reasons to keep my distance. Come on, there's got to be something.

And then it hit him. Your hair. Your beautiful, y/h/c hair that he would love to run his fingers through. No, not beautiful, he reminds himself, annoying. It's everywhere, even in rooms you don't frequent, even in rooms he's sure you've never been in.

He'll just have to hang on to this annoyance until he can think of more. If he can manage to think of more. This is useless, he sighs, grabbing his things to take a shower. At least I know I can waste time relaxing with a hot shower and not run into her there. He double checks to make sure the coast is clear in the hallway before heading toward the shower room, hearing muffled voices further down the hall but assuming it's you, busy helping Sam with research.

He gets to the shower room and sets up his things. He turns on the hot water, and steam starts filling the room immediately. He undresses, stepping under the water and letting the heat relax his muscles, tense from his endless debate about his feelings. He grabs his soap bar and starts cleaning, but he feels a tug when he starts to clean his member. Confused, he looks down, finding a long hair knotted around his most sensitive part.

He yanks on the hair, finding it stuck. He yanks harder, feeling a small sting followed by relief with the tension breaks the hair. With the hair pinched between his fingers, he brings it up closer to look at it under the light. He assumed it would be one of Sam's. They mix up their clothes in the laundry sometimes, it would make sense for it to be Sam's hair. But no, luck has never been on Dean's side. The hair is very distinctly from your head.

How did her hair even manage to get there? Damn it, I can't even escape her here... By myself... In the shower... When I haven't been around her for weeks.

He feels the frustration building and his fists clenching. Frustration at not being able to avoid you, at not truly wanting to avoid you, at his member having some semblance of contact with you but nowhere near the contact he desires. It builds and builds until he explodes, "Son of a BITCH!"

Y/N:

Sam rushes ahead of you toward Dean's yell, pistol already in his hands and raised by the time you both reach the shower room, ready for whatever fight he may find. You have a silver blade in your hand, fists raised, eyes scanning for a threat.

"What? What is it, Dean?" Sam asks urgently, not seeing any outward threats to everyone's safety. Dean spins around at the intrusion, eyes widening. You swear you see panic in his eyes when they connect with yours, then Dean frantically grabs his towel, wrapping it around his waist to hide his lower half. You try your hardest to stay focused and not get distracted by his bare chest.

"What is it? Look at it!" Dean yells at Sam, shoving his right hand toward Sam's face, thumb and pointer finger pinched together.

Sam slowly lowers his gun, looking between Dean's hand and his eyes several times in disbelief. "You yelled about a hair??"

"Look at it!" Dean insists, "it's hers!" He gestures toward you with his hand, still holding the pinched hair.

You furrow your brow, "so? It's just a hair? I have a lot of it. I'm sure that's not the only one in here."

"It wasn't just in here. It was wrapped around my head!" Dean yells.

You and Sam look at each other, shrugging. "I fail to see the issue here," the younger Winchester states.

"You know," Dean continued, "my head." He emphasizes the last word with a gesture toward his lower half.

You and Sam look at each other again, eyebrows raised, then Sam throws his head back and bursts into laughter. You lock your eyes back on Dean, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Dean's face is red with anger and what you think might be a touch of embarrassment. "Sammy, it's not funny. It was knotted and I had to pull it! What if it did any damage?"

"Oh, well Chuck forbid my hair do damage to your most prized possession," you mumble under your breath. Sam hears you, making him laugh even harder, doubling over and wiping his eyes.

"What did you say?" Dean asks, dropping his hand and, finally, the hair.

"Nothing," you say, looking away.

"That's it. Sammy, grab her. We're shaving her head," Dean threatens, taking a half step toward you.

"Dean, come on," Sam says, still lightly laughing. "You have to admit, it's kind of funny."

"Is it, Sammy? It's bad enough I can't stop thinking about her all the-" Dean stops himself, slamming his mouth shut.

Your jaw drops. You swear time stops. Have you been wrong this whole time? Could it be possible he has feelings for you too?

Dean quickly leaves, while you stand there frozen in shock. Sam watches his brother go, then turns to you, "you okay?"

"He likes me too, doesn't he, Sam?"

Sam just looks at you silently for a moment, then puts a hand on your shoulder. "I swore I'd never say anything. He thinks he's helping to protect you. He's... not good at this kind of thing."

You're in shock. Or dreaming. There's no other logical explanation. You're thrilled because he likes you too, but also heartbroken that he thinks this is protecting you. You, a hunter for your entire life, who did it all by herself until running into the Winchesters, who took down vampire nests and demons and everything inbetween with minimal or no injuries, are seen as weak in his eyes?

Leaving Sam behind, you storm down the hall to Dean's bedroom door and pound on it several times. "Go away, Sam," you hear through the door.

"It's me. We need to talk."

After several long seconds, you resign yourself to accepting he's not going to open it. Just as you're getting ready to leave, it opens just enough to reveal Dean, stone faced and fully dressed, wet hair sticking up at odd angles.

"Can I come in?" You ask. He wordlessly opens the door a fraction more and steps to the side for you to enter.

You walk past him a few steps and turn toward him as he closes the door. "I know you're better with actions than with words, so I'm gonna talk and I just want you to listen, okay? I'm not weak. I don't need you to protect me. I can make my own choices. And I choose you. And I'm not going to pretend to know what could happen in the future. But I know that if you watch my back and I watch yours, we can handle anything this world, Heaven, or Hell could throw at us."

You slowly drift closer to him as you continue, "I won't pretend to know every little thing about you, but I do know you, Dean. I know how loyal you are. And how you will always put yourself in harm's way to protect those you care about. How you blame yourself for every loss. How you like to sit outside on quiet nights and look at the stars, enjoying the peace that has been so rare in your life."

You're in his space now, and you reach up to place your hand on his cheek. He leans into your hand, closing his eyes. "I don't know how to do this, Y/N."

"Me neither, Dean. But how about we take a leap of faith together and we can figure it out?"

He opens his mesmerizing green eyes, and you notice unshed tears building up in them. Then, faster than you can blink, his lips are on yours.

You always thought the cliche of seeing fireworks was just that, a cliche. But you'll be damned if you're not seeing entire light shows behind your eyelids right now. Every nerve ending in your body lights up as if on fire. Arms wrapped around each other, you and Dean are pressed so close together, not even air can pass between you. He licks your lower lip, asking permission, and you open without hesitation. Your tongues battle for dominance until you can't breathe, and you break apart, both gasping for air.

"So I guess that's it then, huh, sweetheart?" he rasps, smirking, leaning his forehead on your own.

"Guess so, tough guy. Who would have thought my hair would be the key," you laugh.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #female reader #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean x you #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #sam winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean x y/n #pov you #pov dean #keiththecat

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genderqueerdykes · 23 days

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i know you arent really able to determine what an other persons identity is(? im not great with words sometimes, hopefully u get what i mean—) but from experiences ive been having lately im starting to wonder if im cupioromantic

ive been in romantic relationships in the past, but as of late ive been wanting to be in one but have been failing to build that type of bond. ive been trying to put myself out there but it doesnt seem to work

i havent had a crush on a real person in a long time (specifying real person cuz i DO have crushes on fictional characters)

so now im really confused cuz idk if its me just not finding anyone that piques my interest or just not experiencing romantic feelings

btw im not really looking for a "you have this" response, id much rather have a discussion type of response if that makes any sense at all

you know what, i relate really heavily to that. i hadn't had the thought to look into the term cupioromantic until now, but i'm glad that i did because this may be something i experience, personally

i find personally for me as someone who's on the aromantic spectrum, it's really hard for me to figure out where friendships end and romantic relationships begin. it's always been insanely difficult for me to tell if someone is interested in me or not and most of the time i completely fail to realize someone has been crushing on me for a while because i just don't pick up on those signals. i don't know how to

i find a lot of people relate to not forming crushes on other irl people, but finding themselves forming crushes on romantic characters. i haven't had a crush on a real person, as far as i can tell, in my entire life, but i do develop crushes on fictional characters as well. irl, usually the type of feeling i get is "i want to be close to this person, be there for them, help them, and make them happy". it's definitely the desire to partner, but with virtually no romantic feelings whatsoever.

it's strange because i find that i can enjoy romantic relationships as long as the other person understands that i don't really get those types of feelings. like i'm okay if someone is in romantic love with me, i just want folks to respect that i personally cannot feel that specific type of love and recognize that it doesn't hurt anyone that i experience love differently (or not at all). i still would care for this person and be there for them, even if i'm not the world's biggest fan of kissing or cuddling or romantic gestures

i guess what im saying is i relate to what you're experiencing! i know you didn't ask what to be told but i did want to say that it does sound like your experience aligns with the aromantic spectrum in general, if you want to explore this label and try using it, i see no harm in doing so. you're seeking something that suits your specific situation and it's okay to try something that you're unsure of. this has got me questioning if that suits my experience as well

good luck figuring things out! either way there's nothing wrong with having these types of feelings! feel free to ask any other questions you may have!

#asks #answers #questioning #cupioromantic #cupio #aromantic #aro #aromantic spectrum #arospec

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selineram3421 · 2 years

Note

I have a request :) Can you make some headcanons for demon Alastor in human world who was accidentaly summoned by reader and he started developing feelings for them?

Reader haven't made a deal with Alastor yet and knows Alastor from show itself but they dont want to tell him about it. Thank you <3

Heck yeah.

Headcanons of Alastor Falling for Human S/O

Alastor X Reader

First of all, it was not intentional.

You were trying to do your first spell.

Who's gonna stop you? Not your cat, that's for sure.

And then just ☁poof☁ deer man appears

"THE FUCK!?", you shout and scramble back, tripping over your feet and falling.

Alastor is equally surprised, because he was in the middle of a good book and there was a strange shift in the air.

You lie on your back for a while, just trying to piece together HOW THE FUCK YOU DID A SUMMONING SPELL!

Deciding not to wait for you to process everything, Alastor speaks. "Excuse me, did you want something?"

Lol

Sitting up, you rub the back of your head with your eyes closed. "No? Sorry, I didn't mean to summon you-or any demon. It was not my intention tonight."

Then you open your eyes and get a good look at the demon you've accidentally summoned.

Holy shit that's Alastor!?

Now your brain is having a whole moment.

Never mind the summoning, how the fuck did I open up a portal and bring a fictional character into the 3rd dimension!?

"Um, who are you?", you ask, just wanting to make sure your brain wasn't making any of this up.

"Oh, how rude of me! My apologies, I am Alastor!"

It could be a demon with the same name?

"Radio Demon, Hell's finest radio host."

Nope, it's your animated crush. You freak out on the inside.

Honestly I'd be freaking out too.

"Um ok, nice to meet you.", you say awkwardly.

You stand up and notice he hasn't left the circle of crystals.

"Charmed, I'm sure."

"Sorry again, but can you go back home?", you ask, looking down at the crystals. "I want to try to do my spell again."

"Why of course!", he does a snap of his fingers but doesn't move. "That's odd."

"What's odd?"

"It seems that I can't leave."

And now you're stuck with a very tall demon. Good thing you live alone.

Your cat hides away from Alastor, the deer demon didn't even know you had a cat until you began searching for them.

"Where are you? Pspspspspspspsps.", you call, looking under your couch.

"What are you doing?", he asks.

"Calling for my cat."

"Hmm.. I'll have to try that with Husker."

You want to laugh so bad.

Alastor pokes at the crystal barrier, getting zapped as he does so. "Could you perhaps move one of these? I'd like to get out."

"Will you respect the house rules?", you ask.

He better.

He thinks it over for a moment or two. "Yes."

You tell him the house rules before letting him out.

Now you have a demon roommate. That is until you can figure out a way to get him back home.

The next day comes, and when you wake you find your cat sitting on your bed, staring through door.

"Glad you're back.", you mumble and pet them.

Stepping out of the room, you almost forgot about Alastor. Almost.

"Good morning!", he says with a wide smile. "I hope you had a proper rest."

"Am I still sleeping?", you ask, looking for something in the room that felt out of place.

"You're very much awake! Come sit, I've made you breakfast."

Your brain can't really grasp him in such a domestic moment, but you do as told and sit at your two person table.

~✨

You hide all the fanart and merchandise that has to do with Vivzie's work. You have to change a lot of your devices backgrounds.

Alastor and your cat do start to get along.

He asks about your radio. "What are all of these extra bits?"

"It's a record player, and a radio. It can also play CDs and cassettes.", you explain and demonstrate how to properly use it.

"Fascinating."

Sometimes when a good song is playing, he'll pull you into a dance.

He takes over the cooking most of the time.

Working on a spell? He'll help you out with it.

Unwanted house guests? Oh no, they've been spooked into leaving.

Coffee is made every morning. Tea as well if you prefer that.

One day you decide to help with the cooking.

"It's no trouble at all.", he says. "Just wait for the food."

"I'm gonna be stuck with not knowing how to make food when you leave, let me at least learn by helping."

He can't really argue with that, so he lets you help.

Let's get cookin'

Both of you end up cooking together more often and trade recipes.

Then you go grocery shopping after making sure he won't kill anyone unless its absolutely necessary.

"What if you encounter a thief?"

"Depends on what they take. I don't really care about money."

"What if someone assaults you?"

"I can take care of myself, they just have to throw the first hit."

"What about a rapist trying to lay a hand on you?"

"That one you can kill without a second thought."

You finally get to see his human disguise. Yes, he looks handsome as hell. A lot of heads turn in the grocery store when you both pass by.

There was almost a grab-by with an old woman. Thankfully you were able to move him away before she could pinch his bottom.

"Ew.", you said scrunching your nose. "Let's get the last thing and leave."

Falling in love?

I'd like to think that he'd fall for the little things.

Like when you sing, thinking you're alone. Or when you get a random spark of inspiration.

When you laugh at a corrupt person's death. And I mean laugh like it was the funniest joke you've heard. Crab rave

Your weirdness.

And the way you talk to your cat.

"I know you like fire but we can't do arson."

"Mroow.."

"I know its dumb but we live here. You can cause a fire at someone else's house."

I feel like he would wonder what you mean by that and test it out by teleporting your cat to someone's house.

"That's crazy."

"Hm?"

"On the news, someone's house caught on fire."

Cat is brought back and waltzes around the house like nothing ever happened.

"How did you get soot on your paws?", you ask after noticing the little trail your cat left behind.

You look around to see if the cat did cause a fire.

This is if you do buy merch occasionally/regularly/ or when you get the chance.

You forgot that you bought a few new pins and almost opened the package out in the open. "Oh f-", you grab the package and run to your room.

Did anyone see the Hazbin Hotel news?

~Seline, the person.

ML for Alastor🎙

Wanna see more of Arson Cat? Look no further!

➡ 🔥click here🔥

#x reader #gn reader #alastor headcanons #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #human reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #reader likes fangs lol

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misc-obeyme · 4 months

Note

Thanks for bringing back my Raphael obsession :3 but *furiously keyboard smashes* the fic was so good?? Him knowing that MC/reader had a lil crush on him was shdhdhdj

Y’know how some people have shrines to their fave fictional characters made out of merch? Why do I feel like Levi probably has that in his room (for Ruri-Chan)? ^.^

Anyways sorry for bombarding you with my random thoughts I’m really tired :)

- <3

Don't be sorry, it's totally fine! As I'm sure you've seen, this is kinda the place for random thoughts!

Anyway, I'm so glad you liked that Raphael fic! I'm always a little nervous about writing for characters at first when I haven't fully settled into their characterization yet. But I really felt like Raphael would be aware of MC getting flustered, but just... wouldn't say anything about it. And then when he finally does, it's something really straightforward lol.

I am planning a part two where MC has been training for a little while and is full on sparring with him.

OH there is no doubt in my mind that Levi has a Ruri-Chan shrine. I don't care if it isn't canon (I dunno it might be?), it is now. I like the idea that he sorta accidentally creates one to MC too. Because he's so used to displaying his Ruri-Chan stuff in shrine form. He doesn't really think about it, it's just a subconscious reaction. Any time he gets a gift from MC that he doesn't use regularly or a picture of them or a note from them or something like that. He puts it all on this one shelf, arranges it all nicely, and then one day he looks at it and he's like... oh no I've made an MC shrine.

Can't bring himself to dismantle it so he just hopes MC never notices. And if they do? Ohh potential for much flirting and teasing and making him blush >:)

#poor Levi he's so cute I can't handle him #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me raphael #obey me leviathan #<3 anon #misc answers

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theguardianace · 4 months

Note

Can I politely ask you to elaborate on the Aroace Nene fic you talked about some time ago? Or just simply how you see her in your brain after finding out she's aroace? If it's not much to ask, of course

OMG YES YES YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! absolutely. i will ramble about aroace literally anybody on the drop of a dime this is one of the best anons to get actually

nene's story is actually the one i have the least about, to be perfectly honest. i have a plot for both emu and tsukasa's stories, but haven't quite figured out one for nene. honestly, i think nene's the type of aroace to not really... care about it that much. she'd never cared about love or romance to begin with, so when she realized it was because she was aroace, it was mostly like "hm. cool. im gonna go play animal crossing now".

as for finding out... i think it would have happened in middle school, back when she was Online Gamer Nene TM full time. with how much she loves games and storytelling, it really only makes sense she'd want to engage with fandom content like fics. however, just... seeing the way people sexualize her favorite characters, or only write/draw shipping content... she didn't care for it. she didn't want to engage with that. not that there was anything wrong with it! people can do whatever they want with fictional game characters. she just. didnt care about it herself. which led to her feeling even more isolated even within her favorite hobbies. i think this would sort of lead her to playing a variety of games so she doesn't have to worry about getting absorbed in fandoms she doesn't care to be a part of. she still checks, every once in a while. for games that she really likes. i think its through this that she eventually stumbles across a popular aroace headcannon, goes "what", googles it, and is like "wow. thats me. sick". and then moves on

but like. even when she's moved on. it's still really nice to know, yknow? it explains why she felt like the odd one out not wanting to ship stuff, or even care to entertain it. there's people out there just like her. it makes her less anxious, a little more sure of herself.

she doesn't ever tell anyone. not even rui. (i mean, they hadn't talked in ages. how is she supposed to? "hi, we havent had a genuine conversation in years, how are you? by the way i discovered im aroace and you probably don't know what that means and honestly i dont really care about it myself. have a good day".) (and once they do start talking again, it just... never came up. she never felt the need to, and he never felt the need to ask.) until my epilouge chapter where they all end up coming out like WHAT WERE ALL AROACE THATS SO SILLY anyways

in casual life, i think nene would have been the type for adults to go "oooh, you have a crush on him, don't you? look at you, all red and shy just thinking about him" when shes simply Just Like That. it was really annoying. she knew she didn't like them like that and that was that. but shes too scared to say that so she just took it. definitely didn't help the "nene needs to learn how to make friends" department. honestly, her only relief from it was with rui- both her parents and the kamishiro parents recognized that the two really did care about each other, but it wasn't like that. also no way in hell they're ruining the one friendship their kids have.

later with emu, i don't think there was any point where people even considered a romance, at least not at first glance. it wasn't like people at school even knew about emu (minus when she snuck in, but why would this hyperactive pink thing be looking for that shy second year?). and people walking the streets didn't really assume they liked each other like that since they were two girls. nene's mom was a little curious if they were dating since emu comes over so often and is so physically affectionate, but she never really pressed. she was mostly just happy nene has friends over that aren't just rui. (also, emu's aroace too, so nothing in her demeanor even made nene consider it could have been romantic. shes just Emu.)

for tsukasa, it's a similar thing. by the time people have realized the two are friends, nene's confident in herself and her feelings enough to shut down the people who would even dare assume she likes a buffoon like that star in that way. there's those people that go "oh but you're mean to him and girls are mean to boys when they have a crush on them" but she's tough enough to go "ew" and move on. (she did complain about it a little to rui on a walk home once. if he ended up in her classroom the next day to "grab her for lunch" and weaponize his dangerous reputation to intimidate them when she wasn't looking, it was sheer coincidence.)

also, i think out of the four, nene falls most on the loveless scale. tsukasa, emu, and rui are all beings made of love despite the fact they don't fall in it. nene's a bit different. she cares about her friends, and she's super good at making them (despite what she thinks), but she doesn't really... love them. not in the ways people usually want to describe love. she would kill a man for them in a heartbeat, don't get me wrong. she just experiences those sorts of feelings differently. it's care, and determination, and hope, and happiness, but not... love. not completely.

anyways aroace gamer nene so real fic will happen once i figure out how to tie these ideas to a plot 👍

#i say i dont have much on aroace nene and then drop this #lol #ace answers an ask!

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monsterswithimagines · 21 days

Text

Undisclosed Desires - Part 13

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 1298

Masterlist

(I guess Joe's willingness to murder is more book-Joe than show-Joe, but whatever. I can't help that I'm halfway through the first book right now.)

Minor warning: masturbation is briefly mentioned.

Some things, you just can't learn about a person until you're in a relationship with them.

For example: you like to be kissed, often. Softly and sweetly, but also with intent, until you can't breathe. You smile into kisses and when I pull away, you tilt your head and the smile doesn't leave.

I live for that smile.

Also, you're not always nice. You run out of energy and you stonewall me. When you get like that there is nothing I can do to make it better, except leave. This happens most often when you've had a busy day at work, and one day soon we're probably going to have a beautiful fight about it, but for now I let you close down and shut me out. I really do try not to take it personally.

You don't care if I look at your phone. Sometimes you even ask me to check texts for you. This would make me incredibly happy, except aside from me, the only people you text in English are your coworkers.

You're more secretive about your laptop, which makes me wonder what I missed when I looked at it. I guess I didn't really do much digging. But when I do check it out again, even digging doesn't turn up anything.

Weird.

You're a bit of a slob. I knew that already, but I didn't know it would be so easy to take things from your apartment. You don't notice when items go missing, or if I move them around while you're not there. You did comment on your missing toothbrush, but you just assumed you misplaced it yourself.

“I swear, Joe, if my head wasn't attached to my body…”

All of this, I've learned over the course of two months. Two amazing months of being with you. Only it doesn’t always feel like I am with you, because you haven't told Nadia or your mother or even Grey about me, and I've been checking. After you told him you had a crush on me, he tried to find out more about me and you avoided the subject by writing to him about how much you like Angel from Buffy the vampire slayer. (If I could beat up a fictional character, I would.)

And we haven't had sex.

We've gotten close a few times, but you always pull away just when things are getting hot and heavy. Sometimes when you're alone, you masturbate several times in a row and I know you think of me, (Y/n). I can see it on your face. But when we're together, you look embarrassed and tell me you're not ready and I am patient, I am, but how can you not be ready when you are so obviously eager for it? Even dreaming about it?

I still don't like your coworkers. They are rude to you and belittle you, and they make inappropriate jokes in the groupchat. This is why I almost say no when you invite me to a company lunch, but in the end I say yes because at least you're inviting me somewhere.

“It won't be like last time,” you assure me. “No alcohol, for one.”

And you're right. It isn't like last time: it's worse.

I’m pretty sure your job is a scam, (Y/n). Nobody who works at your agency (other than you) actually needs to make money. The owner, Sam Carr, is a man in his fifties who considers this entire venture a hobby. He has two other companies, neither of which are making any money, but he doesn't need to make money because he is the kind of rich that goes back generations, to before white people even lived in America. Yet he pays you peanuts and you have to borrow money from your grandfather over and over again.

Sam's wife is Pam (which is short for Pamela, but Sam thinks it's hilarious for them to be Sam and Pam). She is only a little over half his age (thirty) and twice as smart as him, and you know this. You address her like she's the owner, and when she's around, you don't even talk to Kim, whose approval you were so eager for last time. Pam comes from old money, too, and has started several foundations throughout her life, all of which are doing well.

There's Judy Allen, who is tall and blond and keeps her lips pursed at all times. She does the same thing you do, copywriting, but her real job is being a momfluencer on Instagram, showing her kids off like accessories. Out of everyone here she is the nicest to you, but I can't tell if she means it or not and neither can you. You are nice to her, but you address her like you would a teacher, or a distant relative.

Jasper is so much worse than I remember him. He follows you around like a lost puppy and you let him. You glance at me, testing me, and I hate this side of you. I hate who you are around these people.

Surprisingly little is eaten, though there is much more on the table than even an entire orphanage could put away. You and your coworkers talk about Google and helpful content and black hat SEO and I don't understand anything any of you are saying.

At some point somebody asks me what I do. I grit out that I work in a bookstore and you look up and say: “he's being modest. He manages it” and I feel kind of proud. But then the person who asked me what I do in the first place starts asking me about the store's website and I have to admit that actually, Mooney's doesn't have one.

“I prefer things a little more old fashioned,” I try to justify, and then realize immediately how incredibly dumb I must sound to these people. “I mean, sometimes we sell a first edition on Ebay.”

You pat my leg underneath the table, which is code for 'shut up', so I do.

“You could always ask (Y/n) to help you make a website,” Jasper says, and he is looking way too intently at your chest as you reach across the table for a croissant. “She's surprisingly good at it.”

Surprisingly good? Seriously, (Y/n), I want to bash this guy’s teeth into his skull.

But you act like it's a compliment. You blush and wave him off and shake your head at me.

“You'd be better off hiring someone who actually knows how to make websites. I can write your content, though, if you want.”

I don't even want a fucking website, but I nod.

“Maybe.”

Finally, we can leave. I don't know what the point of any of that was.

In the cab, you slump against me and close your eyes, and you say: “Did you see the way Jasper kept staring at my boobs? I fucking hate that guy.”

Faith in you restored. I never should have doubted you.

“He just will not leave me alone lately,” you complain, and I wrap an arm around your shoulder and press a kiss to the side of your head. “But when I tell him off, he goes and tells Kim I'm being rude. She told me I need to be more of a team player, you know.”

But you are a team player, (Y/n). It's just that those people aren't on your team. I'm on your team.

“He's basically harassing me, and if I wanna keep my job I can't do a damn thing about it.”

“Fuck him,” I say.

And I mean it. Fuck Jasper. Fuck him and every man like him who thinks he can own a woman just because he has money and connections.

Jasper's gotta go.

#joe goldberg #penn badgley #you netflix #joe goldberg imagine #joe goldberg x reader #imagine #joe goldberg x female!reader #joe goldberg x y/n #joe goldberg x you #x reader

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