#Like it’s almost platonic but not really
Note
Hi congrats on the Milestone, for the event can i ask for prompts 15 and 16 (angsty ones) Ty! 💖💖
EAVESDROP [CLIMACTERIC]
/ˈiːvzdrɒp/
15. "You heard that?”
16. "I didn't mean it.”
WARNINGS: miscommunication (i hate and love miscommunication way too much), happy ending
spencer reid x gn!reader || fluff || 3.0k || event masterlist!!
a/n: when i said that these were going to be coming out slower i unfortunately meant it 😭 didn’t help that i had massive writer’s block with this one either rip—
main masterlist!!
You really didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You just happened to get to the office early that morning and figured it’d be an opportune time to make yourself some coffee.
But once you heard your name in the mix of the conversation that Spencer and Morgan were having you found yourself waiting around the corner until they finished what they had to say.
“—should just ask,”
“That’s awkward, besides, if I was going to then it’d have to be something more meaningful,” You can hear Spencer sigh in exasperation as he shuts down Morgan’s suggestion, and your imagination tells you he probably has his face furrowed almost in a pout like he usually does when he’s frustrated.
“Then plan something, you can’t just wait for something to happen, you have to take action man,” Morgan sounds determined in his beliefs, and it leaves you with a furrowed expression as you try and piece together what they’re talking about and how it relates back to you.
Spencer wants to ask you something. In a ‘meaningful’ way. Because he’s been sitting around waiting for something for too long.
What?
“I know that,” Spencer lets out another sigh, and you can hear the sound of his mug hitting the kitchenette counter. “I’m just afraid that they’re going to turn me down, okay? I really like them and I want this to go well,”
If their conversation was a tv show you would’ve rewound it to hear what Spencer just said again.
Spencer Reid. Dr Spencer Walter Reid just openly admitted to liking you.
There’s a major part of your brain that tells you that he just meant it platonically, that he just really valued your friendship and didn’t want to ruin it by asking you whatever he was going to.
And then there was another part of your brain telling you that that was complete bullshit, because what kind of question could possibly be so bad that it would mean you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore?
It had to be something inherently romantic, or Spencer’s concerns wouldn’t make any logical sense, which was a very off brand thing for him.
“It’ll never ‘go well’ if you don’t actually ask,”
The small flutter in your heart only proves to increase at Morgan’s reply, and if you were an actual part of the conversation you’d agree with him.
You wanted Spencer to ask you whatever was plaguing his mind, whether it be to take you on a date somewhere or even if it’s just to get lunch with him on your shared break. Any step forward was a step in the right direction, and you wanted that next step.
He doesn’t.
The whole day goes by without a single peep from Spencer in relation to his little pep talk with Morgan in the morning, and it was beginning to frustrate you just a little.
Of course you wouldn’t actually be frustrated if you hadn’t overheard the conversation they were having, but that wasn’t your fault. It was like the fates were trying to bring you together.
And you were letting them drag you in whatever direction they deemed fit.
“Hey Spencer!” You catch him right as he steps into the elevator, and he sticks out a hand over the motion sensor to keep the door open for you.
“Hey,” Spencer gives you a small, awkwardly endearing smile as you join him inside the elevator, retracting his hand to grip the strap of his messenger bag.
“Thanks,” You let out a stuttered exhale as you catch your breath from the mild jog you made to reach the door, pulling on the shoulders of your shirt to straighten it back out.
“No problem,” He gives you another small smile, and then the conversation falls silent, the sound of the doors opening as the two of you reach the ground level being the only thing to break the stillness of your joined company.
You couldn’t really tel whether the lack of conversation was awkward or not, but you did know that the longer you were in his sole company the more that you wanted to oust your knowledge of his earlier conversation with Morgan, to the point where you were rehearsing how to bring it up in your head.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Spencer gives you a small wave as the two of you step out of the elevator and into the covered parking lot, stuffing his hands into his pockets and turning around to walk away before you can reply.
You swear you catch the tiniest glimpse of him mouthing something to himself with a furrowed expression as he turns around, like he’s berating himself for something, and your brain decides that it’s the perfect time to just go for it, his name tumbling out of your mouth to no consciousness of your own.
“Spencer—”
He turns around at your call and your throat goes dry, your impulsiveness biting you right in the ass as you lose your confidence immediately under his gaze. “Yeah?”
“You… uh-” You watch as his eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion, and you clear your throat to throw your inhibitions out the window. You couldn’t just not tell him now. “I overheard the conversation you were having this morning with Morgan, the uh… the one about me?”
You can practically see the colour drain from his face at your admission, and it immediately makes you regret bringing it up. He wasn’t ready yet.
“You-” He lets out a sharp exhale through his mouth, tugging at the strap of his back awkwardly. “You heard that?”
You give him a small guilty nod with your lips pressed together, and he sucks in a breath like he’s forgotten how to breathe. “How much of it did you hear..?”
“About… three quarters of it,”
He shuts his eyes, head dropping until the hair framing his face catches against his eyelashes.
Of course you’d heard it all. Because him stumbling over himself over how to properly approach you to Morgan wasn’t humiliating enough.
No, you just had to be there to hear it.
There went any minuscule chance he had of actually managing to build something with you. You probably thought he was some weirdo who had some stalkerish fantasy of you.
“Spencer—”
“I didn’t mean it.” Your attempt at elaborating was very quickly short lived as he cuts you off.
“I- What?”
“I didn’t- I was just saying that to get Morgan off my back about not dating anyone,” Spencer knows he’s speaking straight out of his ass, but it’s the only thing that he can think of to say to possibly salvage a fraction of your friendship with him without making everything weird. “I didn’t actually mean any of it-”
There’s a small pause, silence flooding the space between you until you feel like you’re drowning in it.
“Oh,” There’s a split second where the astonishment shows across your face, and Spencer swears he catches a glimpse of disappointment in your irises before it’s covered up with something else. “Right- Yeah no that makes sense he can be quite annoying about that stuff can’t he?”
He gives a pathetic laugh at your response. “Yeah…”
“Well I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then…” There’s no mistaking the awkward tension between the two of you as you rifle in your pocket for your car keys.
“Yeah… See you tomorrow…”
—
“I messed up. I messed up really bad.” Morgan barely has time to leave the elevator before Spencer is practically dragging him into the conference room to speak to him privately, without any chance of their conversation being heard.
“Well good morning to you too boy genius,”
“I’m serious Morgan, this is really bad-” Spencer’s face conveys absolute desperation, almost bordering patheticness from just how rifled he seems.
“Okay okay damn,” Morgan raises his arms in surrender, a silent vow to take Spencer’s worries seriously.
“They overheard our conversation, the one about me being afraid to ask them out.” Spencer sighs in absolute indignation, taking a hand through his hair with an expression like his doctor just told him he wasn’t going to wake up tomorrow morning.
“Oh-” Morgan’s eyes widen slightly at Spencer’s confession, straightening up and furrowing his eyebrows. “And?”
“And I told them that I was just saying I wanted to ask them out to get you off my back about dating-”
Morgan’s shoulders drop, and he narrows his eyes slightly in a mix of confusion and absolute astoundment that he would fumble the bag that hard. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I didn’t want things to get awkward, but when they walked into the office this morning they didn’t even say good morning and we’ve been sat in a stalemate for almost ten minutes which suggests that they didn’t believe what I said and I did make it awkward and-”
“Reid-” Morgan holds up a hand to stop Spencer’s rambling mid-sentence. “Slow your roll a minute, what actually happened?”
“They caught me on the way out of the elevator to the parking lot yesterday and told me that they overheard our conversation,” Spencer drags his hand down his face in exasperation. “And I panicked and said that I didn’t mean it and that it was just to get you to stop asking me about my dating life, so that it wouldn’t make our friendship awkward…”
He exhales heavily, leaning his body weight against the conference table in defeat. “But I don’t think they believed me, and now they’re acting like I’m a stranger to them and I don’t know what to do,”
“Right… Okay,” Morgan takes a few seconds to take in the information through furrowed eyebrows. “And you’re sure it’s because they don’t believe you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” It was Spencer’s turn to furrows his features at Morgan’s response. What else could it possibly be to do with?
“Look, I’m not going to say anything, but you need to come clean and talk to them, right now.”
“What—” Spencer barely gets the question out of his mouth before Morgan is leaving his side to open the door of the conference room and yelling your name across the bullpen to bring you over.
“What are you doing?” Spencer Whisper-yells through his teeth as he watches you approach from over Morgan’s shoulder, and he watches the way your curiosity turns to begrudgement as you realise that Morgan wasn’t the only one there.
You literally fizzled out after realising that Spencer was there, what else was he supposed to think?
“You two need to have a conversation,” Morgan points between the two of you before tugging you into the room by your forearm. “I am going to stand outside that door and you are not allowed to leave until you’ve spoken to each other properly, no bullshit. You hear me?”
It feels like you and Spencer are two five year olds as Morgan looks between you, but you both nod stuntedly either way, and true to his word, Morgan leaves the room and leans his weight against the closed door so you can’t push it open to leave.
“So…”
“So-”
The tension between the two of you is palpable as you both try to start the conversation at the same time, but the fact that you were so similar in your awkward attempts at breaking the silence makes you laugh a little, which in turn makes Spencer laugh as well.
It was a little silly, but you were both glad for the break in the stalemate you’d put yourselves in, even if just for that moment before you found yourselves surrounded by silence once more, albeit a slightly more comfortable one.
“Well… Uh…”
“I’m sorry I assumed you liked me, romantically I mean,” You cut off Spencer’s awkward attempt at breaking the silence with your own blurted excuse. “I didn’t mean to make things awkward between us I just thought—” You cut yourself short before you can finish to save yourself from your own embarrassment.
Spencer can only blink at your apology.
“I— What?”
“When I cornered you in the parking lot yesterday, I should’ve known it was just Morgan bothering you, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” You clasp your hands behind your back, nervously wringing your hands together.
So it wasn’t because you didn’t believe him. You did. And you looked… upset about it? Dejected maybe? Spencer couldn’t be quite sure, but whatever emotion you were displaying it wasn’t something objectively positive.
“I— You didn’t—” Spencer exhales heavily through his mouth, clenching his hands into fists as he internally fights with himself over whether to just spit it out and get it over with.
‘You need to come clean’.
Morgan sounded extremely assured in his statement when he directed Spencer earlier, like he knew what the outcome was going to be.
It wasn’t a case of ‘come clean because the truth is better than lying’, it was a ‘come clean because whatever happens afterwards isn’t going to be negative’.
“I lied to you,”
Spencer’s brain always worked faster than his body, but apparently he’d managed to override his own instincts and let his mouth make the decision for him before he could think through all of the possible consequences.
“…What?” The traces of disappointment in your eyes are diluted by a mix of surprise and confusion as you turn them up to his, and Spencer feels his throat dry out almost immediately.
“I wasn’t trying to get Morgan off my back, I…” Spencer lets out another small sigh. “I really was asking him for advice, I… I really like you, a lot, and I just didn’t know how to tell you without ruining our friendship so Morgan was trying to help,” He lets out a small laugh, his fingers raking through his hair animatedly as he laments his own patheticness. “It didn’t go very well, clearly,”
There’s a small pause after his confession, the silence settling in Spencer’s chest and making him feel nauseous as he waits for a sign of how you’re going to respond.
The blankness on your face isn’t very reassuring.
“You’re being serious?”
“…mhm…” Practically all of the conviction in Spencer’s tone disappears at your question, and he half-wishes that he could travel back in time so this conversation never happened.
“I like you too Spencer,”
“I underst—” Spencer lowers his head as he dejectedly accepts your rejection. Except it’s not a rejection. “What?”
“I like you too,” You repeat yourself with determination, your eyes practically boring holes into his, and he swears he can feel his knees trying to buckle underneath him.
“You uh… Really?” Spencer blinks at you like a deer in headlights, his genius brain seemingly unable to comprehend how the conversation, one Spencer was sure would end in your rejection and end with the two of you as practical strangers, somehow turned into this.
You give him a firm nod. “I’d like to go out with you Spencer, on a date, anywhere you like,” Your confidence starkly contrasts his shattered composure as you give him your proposal like you’re presenting in a board meeting. Although he’s sure it’s almost entirely feigned, and the way you fiddle with your fingers is evidence enough of his theory. “Please?”
There’s a tinge of desperation in your tone as you add your small plea at the end, and it makes Spencer realise that he’s just blankly staring at you.
“I— Yes— Yes I’d love to go on a date with you Uh—” Spencer thoroughly stumbles over his words in his rush to wipe the traces of doubt in your features. “I’d really like that…”
“Good— Good,” You let out a short laugh of relief at his answer, and he echoes it with your own as you stand in a shared dome of fluster together.
“Do you want to get lunch? Uh, together?” The way Spencer phrases the question was like a middle schooler trying to ask out their crush rather than a grown man, but it only makes the sentiment more endearing.
“That sounds like a good idea,” Your answer is joined by a soft laugh that echoes from the back of your throat, and it makes Spencer’s heart flutter.
“Okay,” Spencer returns your chuckle with his own, gesturing curtiously towards the closed door like a true gentleman, and you have to suppress the urge to stamp a kiss against his pink cheeks as you pass him to push it open.
There’s less resistance than there should be as you push it open, with Morgan decidedly having left the two of you to your own devices to return to his desk without either of you realising.
He shoots the two of you a wink and a thumbs up as you walk down the stairs, and Spencer’s cheeks turn a slightly darker shade of red at the ‘unfortunate’ realisation that he’s due in for a whole load of jests and teases from him going forward.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fluff#mgg#climacteric 🪶
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having a crush on you
summary: how they would act having a crush on you
type of post: headcanons
characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel)
additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms
𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭
don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy
he's slowly losing his mind about this
"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind
it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this
hasn't even really thought about it
so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance
and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell
he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"
(maybe a little too well)
but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed
he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs
so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it
in his head
and then does nothing about it for months
...what? he's busy
things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling
well... it doesn't pass
he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt
and you know what?
he is totally cool about it.
just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards
he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up
which again, just makes him crazy
(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)
I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!
there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate
is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...
the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad
he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him
and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves
just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one
(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)
while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you
you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping
you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!
your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...
𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭
contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it
he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always
but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone
the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else
when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself
why?
he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known
he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all
for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break
(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)
is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.
this is Rook we're talking about
on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute
he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling
seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...
definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room
along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over
(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)
you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often
or a few cans of tuna for Grim
all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference
except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day
Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling
though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy
Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey
and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you
he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard
𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫
first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much
second of all he's going to beg for a chance
maybe not in that exact order
Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal
not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy
suddenly he cares about looking nice
(much to Vil's approval)
and now he wants to do nice things for you?
he's gonna bite you
how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!
don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!
then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.
he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship
...yeah, right? right.
if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...
he might be okay with it!
obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you
starts making comments about how tough practice was on him
will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again
he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)
obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling
(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)
but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess
super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#rook hunt x reader#epel felmier x reader#queued
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We Become We
pairing: husband!lee minho x reader
genre/warnings: friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, mc's gender is not specified
word count: 1.02k
note: i am not dead yay. i tried my best since i haven't had time to write for almost a month so please take this as a peace offering ♡
Marriage. It’s an interesting concept, isn’t it?
You’ve always thought so, at least. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc.
Yours happens to be a man named Lee Minho. The same man you’ve been friends with for as long as you can remember. The same man who asked you to marry him for a reason you didn’t get to learn until he was already down on one knee.
(“I’m sorry, you want me to WHAT?”
“Marry me. Please, I need health insurance.”
“Okay, yes, sure, whatever; now please get off the floor. People are staring.”)
Lee Minho, who, after dragging you to the courthouse and legally becoming your husband, finally elaborated on how his job would pay him more and cover both of your health insurances if he was married. So really, in his words, he was “doing you a huge favor” by marrying you.
And, in all honesty, he really was. No, you didn’t have a ring to show off your new husband’s weird skill at finding loopholes in company policy, and you’re like thirty-five percent sure the two of you are committing some kind of marriage fraud, but does it really matter when you can finally start using the hot water in your dingy apartment without worrying if you’ll have enough money to fund your crippling caffeine addiction? The government will have to drag you kicking and screaming before you resort back to mankind’s cruelest form of torture: cold showers.
Not to mention that marriage didn’t even change your relationship with Minho. And why would it? You’re still you, and he’s still him. He gets on your nerves just the same, maybe even a little bit more after he decided to frame your marriage certificate in his living room and send a photo to all your mutual friends. You’ll never forgive Minho for laughing at your helplessly panicked state when the group chat wouldn’t stop exploding with messages and incessant calls.
You’re still his best friend that resides in his apartment four out of seven days of the week while he inhabits yours for the other three. Maybe that’s why, two weeks after your “wedding,” when it was time to renew your lease, Minho suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders that you move in with him since “you’re here all the time anyway.”
You’ve really got to learn how to say no to him because now you wake up next to your best friend/roommate/husband in his one bedroom, one bathroom apartment at the crack of dawn with a light pressure on your chest and fur in your face when his cats decide you need to wake up right now to feed them.
Not to say you don’t like the new arrangement! No, that would be the furthest from the truth.
Sure, you didn’t appreciate your skin care routine being interrupted by the unexpectedly high-pitched scream Minho let out when he saw you in a face mask for the first time, and what kind of person still has their phone’s brightness turned up all the way before bed? But who else would willingly tolerate your deliriousness before your morning coffee or indulge in your pleas to cook your favorite food three days in a row?
Living with Minho has only made the purely platonic feelings you harbor for him grow stronger.
That’s what the fluttering in your chest means every time you see him, right? The reason for the smile that grows on your face when you hear the distinct jingling of keys at the front door?
Yeah, that must be why heat spread across your cheeks when he handed you his phone to text one of his friends back, because since when did the heart emoji make an appearance next to your pinned contact name?
You just care about each other, that’s all. It’s normal to want to make sure he arrived at work safely and ask how his day is going during your lunch breaks. It’s normal to start receiving back hugs before bed—a comforting weight as Minho’s chin rests on your shoulder while you apply the rest of the products to your face.
It’s natural to have doubts about the nature of your relationship during an evening walk, acutely aware of his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you silently study his features illuminated by the soft glow of the scattered streetlights. What if he meets someone else and falls in love with them and wants a divorce and– oh.
Has he always looked at you like that? With his gaze softening as it locks with yours? With the corners of lips lifting into the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen? With all the stars shining above you finding a second home in his eyes? A look so loving that it takes your breath away and you can’t tell if you’re about to laugh or cry in relief.
And when you return home to get ready for bed, the familiar feeling of hands wrapping around your waist and a careful pressure resting by the crook of your neck quells the remnants of your worries.
It’s you and Minho. Minho and you, just as it always has been. Just as it’s always meant to be.
The distance between your bodies on the bed becomes nonexistent when you curl yourself into his side, laying your head on his shoulder and intertwining your legs with his as he immediately, unhesitantly, adjusts his arm, his fingertips finding purchase on exposed skin and roaming across the span of your back. A kiss to the top of your head is the last thing you feel before the gentle lull of breathing and the rise and fall of his chest begin to soothe you to sleep.
…
Ah, marriage—what an interesting concept. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc.
You love your husband, and you’re beginning to think he loves you too.
liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated
my asks are always open ♡
taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn
#lee know x reader#lee minho x reader#lee know#lee minho#skz x reader#lee know fluff#lee know scenarios#lee know imagines#lee minho imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids lee minho#stray kids lee know#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids#stray kids fluff#stray kids fic#skz#kpop imagines#skz scenarios#skz fluff#lee minho x y/n#lee minho x you#stray kids x you#lee know x you#lee know x y/n#stayinlimbo
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hi!! i really love your writing and i would love if you could feed me with a request (only if you're comfortable with it, ofc) 👉🏼👈🏼 what about a leon x reader where reader is passing through a very tough depressive crisis and is really not fine mentally speaking — and leon just try to help and comfort them through this? 👉🏼👈🏼
anyway, thank you for your fics, they really helped me these days 😭💗
Anchor
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GNPartner!Reader
Summary: It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. He shouldn't be there and you shouldn't have opened it.
Warning tags: hurt/comfort, angst, leon almost died, reader is suffering with anxiety due to past events, can be read as platonic or romantic (you choose)
Writer's Notes: hello! first of all, im sorry i took so long to write this request for you. i changed some stuff and i hope you don't mind (reader is still depressed). thank you so much your kind words and i hope this fic serves as comfort for you!! <333 stay safe anon!
for more painful leon's fics, check my masterlist. i have some happy ones too :)
It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. It is the third time that week only, the fifth of the month.
It starts when you don’t appear at work after two weeks since his return, and no one knows where you are. HR informs you are sick, which means you are still alive somewhere in the world, just sick. Okay, but sick with what? Sick how? Are you in the hospital? Do you need any help? Leon knows you don’t have family around, like him, and you are pretty much alone - like him.
So, as any regular worried friend would, he calls and texts. He wants to hear your voice and guarantee that you don’t need help and have everything you need. That you truly are okay. No answer. HR has guaranteed him you are not dead, but what if you—no, he shouldn’t think about that.
The next step is going to your house. He knows where your address is and wouldn’t be a complete weird appearing there in the afternoon. No answer. Leon won’t be a creep as far as looking at your windows, at least not yet. He won’t go as far as busting your door and checking how you are feeling because he needs to confirm you are okay. You might just not be home.
On the second visit, Leon got awfully close to kicking your door. Before he could do that or even knock, he saw a shadow pass over the window. Though Leon told himself he wouldn’t, he looked inside just in time to see you disappear to the second floor. So, at least you are really alive, Leon’s body filling with relief. It could have been a bad case of flu, and you don’t want to contaminate anyone.
One more week passes, and he visits your house two more times. Those times you didn’t even bother to hide yourself, lazily lying down on the sofa in a way Leon couldn’t see your face (oh yeah, now he is definitely peeking out your windows). So you are genuinely ignoring him or truly sick with some contagious disease. Maybe Covid?
The fifth time he knocks on your door, it is 1 am and Leon is deeply not only worried but bitter. He was sitting in his apartment alone, wondering what you had and why you didn’t open the door for him. You two are colleagues, and Leon would dare to go as far as to call you his friend if anyone asked. How many times have you brought him soup while he was sick? Brought him meds, kept him company? Checked on him until he was finally all better?
It would be only fair if he did the same.
Leon grabs his keys without even thinking: You will open the door for him tonight. And if you don’t, well, he will kick it open. To hell with the civil approach.
-x-
All the courage slips away from his body when he notices the kitchen’s light on. Leon can’t see anything inside since you decided to make his life harder and close the curtains. So, instead of kicking that door until it’s down, Leon goes back to the gentle approach (like the idiot he is): he knocks.
The door opens not even ten seconds later, and Leon blinks, surprised. You are there. You, not a trick of his eyes: a fluffy and long blanket covering your body, only your face peeking with a familiar expression Leon recognizes immediately - he had seen in his own mirror before.
“You won. What the fuck do you want?” Those are the first words to him in weeks.
“May I come in?”
You ponder for a moment, your eyes red, and Leon wonders when you last slept. You walk away, leaving the door open, and Leon follows inside, locking the door behind him.
Your house isn’t in the best state. He had been here before and thought you weren’t the most organized person (“I can find myself in my own mess, Leon.”). The mess had grown too much from normal. There were tons of take-out boxes on the kitchen counter, pizza boxes, and fast food bags. At least you had been eating—not the best food ever, but feeding. He could work with that.
And the bottles—oh, those Leon would identify anywhere. You weren’t a heavy drinker, and you mentioned plenty of times you didn’t know how he liked whiskey. Now, there were countless empty bottles of whiskey, beer, and vodka, so much so that the place looked like a bunch of frat boys had a party just the night before and didn’t bother to clean.
Leon follows you to the living room as you fall onto the couch. An old Simpsons episode plays on the TV screen. There are still some bags and bottles on the floor, but fewer. Your eyes focus on the TV, not really watching or paying attention to him. Leon stands there, keeping a safe distance from you and gathering what to say.
“I came to check on you.” Leon starts, his eyes glued on you. “You haven’t called or texted me back. The HR said-”
“I am sick. I wanted to be left alone.”
“I know, but-”
“I could complain about this to HR, you know? It could be considered an invasion of privacy, and you could lose your job. “
“I was worried about you.”
“You saw me in the window that day, didn’t you? I’m alive and breathing. Now get out.”
You hide your face in the sofa, conversation clearly done on your side. It feels like an impossible battle to win. Leon then tries again, “Do you need anything?”
“No. Get out.”
He sighs, turning on his heels. Leon wants to say you can call if you need him, any time, but Leon knows you wouldn't. This is an impossible battle to win, Leon realizes as he starts to leave. But then he freezes, a memory piercing his thoughts. Leon comes back to the living room, your face still hidden.
“No.”
“What?”
“I am not leaving. Not before I know what is wrong.”
“I am sick.”
“Yes. So I have heard.”
You don’t turn to look at him, and that’s fine. If you want to be stubborn, so could he. Leon can wait. The episode on the TV finally ends, and as the familiar opening plays in the background, you slowly turn in his direction, one eye appearing first, then the other, as if expecting Leon would be gone by now. Unlucky for you, Leon S. Kennedy didn’t give up that easily, especially for his friends.
“I don’t know what you are feeling, but I know that face.” His voice manages to sound neutral.
Of course, he does. Of course, your partner, the legendary D.S.O veteran, would know. You, just a newbie, would have no idea what he went through, but Leon didn’t seem the kind of person to crumble for anything. Leon would probably be fine if you were the one to get shot, not him. He wouldn’t have panicked, he wouldn’t have started crying, screaming for someone to help them, losing themselves in a sea of despair and pain.
“Hey…”
Blood. So much blood in your hands. You are useless, you can’t help him as Leon’s face loses color-
“Hey.”
He deserved someone better—someone much better as a partner—not you, a weak agent who thought you were strong enough to stand by his side. Oh, how wrong you were.
Leon calls your name, more urgent this time, and your line of sight is filled with the face of the man you considered your friend right at your path—concerned blue eyes, his hair tickling against your face. His forehead is in concentration, the faint ghost of a beard, as he speaks soothingly. “Hey, look at me. You are safe. Deep breaths, come on.”
The visions mix as you blink: Leon losing blood in your arms, unconscious, back to being safe, his worried eyes staring at you.
Your rapid breathing noise fills the room, your heart wanting to burst as the pain spreads over your body, the pain worse than being stabbed or punched. You keep your eyes on Leon - he is fine, he is safe, he is well, he is worried sick about you- as he continues to nod and tell you to breathe.
It takes a while, Leon’s hands on your shoulder as you finally calm down, the tears rolling freely from your eyes.
“I am sorry.” You manage to whisper. “I am so sorry.”
“You are safe. We both are safe.” Leon declares, and you take that in. Right now, yes. But what about tomorrow? What about-? “Hey, eyes open at me.” When had you even closed them? “Come on. There is no one else, just you and me. And we are safe.”
You nod, not arguing back. Finally, you sit down, and Leon takes two steps back. “Water?”
“I think there are some in the fridge,” you reply, cleaning your tears. Leon leaves and quickly comes back with two bottles, unbottling them for you. You shake your head, but Leon insists, and you drink in small sips, the cold liquid refreshing your dry throat. When was the last time you had any water? Or took a shower? Or slept?
Finally, you give him space on the couch to sit. Leon doesn’t, and you point your head to your side, and he sits, keeping a safe distance from you. You two say nothing for a while, simply looking at the TV to watch Bart Simpsons on his shenanigans.
“I am sorry.”
“Would you stop that?” Leon sighs back, frustrated.
“No. I am sorry.”
“Fine. I forgive you. Are we good now?”
“No.”
“I knew it wouldn’t be,” Leon replies with a sad smile.
“You could have died, and I didn’t-” Leon says your name, but you continue “-let me finish. I didn’t help. I didn’t move. I did nothing.”
Leon didn’t want to talk about this, knowing it was inevitable. The day he took a bullet for you: not one, but two. Leon noticed before you, his reflexes quicker than yours. It was his responsibility anyway.
You only watched, shocked, as the bullet pierced his leg, then his chest. You didn’t move or flinch; you just froze, your hands closing and opening nervously as Leon fell right in front of you. You had been fortunate that the backup team had arrived on the other second, finding in the middle of the swarm of bullets a screaming you protecting Leon with his own body, all training thrown out of the window. You two should have been dead. Life had given you and him another chance, since no other vital organ or vein of Leon had been damaged.
You don’t remember much after except asking for your resignation that same day and getting a “No” as an answer. So you decided to get on sick leave until some higher-up got tired and fired you.
“I did nothing.” Leon tries to interrupt you again, but you continue, “You could have died, and I did nothing.”
“It wouldn’t be your fault.”
“What? Of course, it would!”
“No, it would not.”
“Can you fucking stop trying to make me feel better?” Your tone is so angry, so vile, that Leon almost flinches.
Death is always in the back of his mind. Every time he is out there, he could die. He is expandable; they all are, but he couldn’t just let you die. You a much smarter version of what he once was during Raccoon City. The same bravery, but not foolish as his. Much sharper. Leon knew why he got paired up with you in the first place, the irony not completely lost in him.
It would have been fine if Leon died that day he protected you, but not okay if you did. Not on his watch. Not now, not ever.
“I can’t help it,” Leon replies, a sad smile on his lips. “I can’t help it, especially when a friend needs my help.”
A friend?
Do not grow attachments. Wasn’t that your first lesson? It had been hard to be paired up with a man who hated it at first, then to learn how to laugh at his silly jokes or admire how far Leon would go for anyone. For anyone, except himself, stupid brave man.
You open your mouth and close it, simply lying against the sofa with your eyes closed.
“So, let me help you?” His voice is warm and inviting.
It would be best if you said no. You should kick this man out of your living room, out of your life, and never go back to that stupid job fighting an endless battle that would end with you dead or someone you cherished dead. You don’t know how Leon does it, but as you open your eyes, his blue eyes look straight at you awaits in hope. Waiting to comfort you, support you to the best of his abilities, and be your friend.
The pain is still there, vivid in your soul and mind, but there is hope. Right there, in that tiny spot you gave Leon S. Kennedy. That’s why you shouldn’t have opened that damn door, you realize, but it is too late. You limit on nodding.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy#leon kennedy angst#leon kennedy fic#leon kennedy fanfics#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy imagines#request#requests#asks#ask
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"Reincarnated As The Cringefail Lord of Hell's Second Child."
Part I Part || Part III
Sequel to this.
Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Morningstar! Reader, Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Reader, Yandere Hazbin Hotel
Word count: 2.7k
Includes: Alastor being creepy, invasion of (your) privacy, bad things are coming...
Synopsis: A straightforward isekai story, you're reborn as the devil's child. With knowledge of your past life and the show your new world is based on, it's clear that you must be destined for greatness. The only question remains: why does everyone around you seem to be acting so...strange?
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
There's nothing better than the payoff that a successful scheme brings. Vaggie returns to the hotel a few hours after your talk with her, and with her is a pair of two gorgeous angelic wings.
“Wait, yer an exorcist?!” Angel exclaims, throwing his top arms up, and using his bottom pair to pull himself up from his position on the couch. “How did I not know about this?!” He looks around, shaking his head wildly. Husk merely shrugs.
“Maybe if you weren't high all the time-”
“Oh, yeah, like yer one to talk, Mr. Hasn't-been-seen-without-a-bottle-in-seven-years!”
Charlie claps her hands together, effectively stopping the two before their banter turns into an actual fight. “Okay, so Vaggie's an angel, that doesn't mean that-”
“Oh yeah, easy for you to say, Princess. I bet ya already knew about this, didn't ya?”
“I mean, I did. But-!”
“Then why didn't ya say anything?!”
“It wasn't my place to-”
Angel dramatically falls back onto the couch. Odd, you think, his reaction wasn't nearly this strong in the show, why is he- “Whatever. I need a drink,” he says getting up. “Husk! Pour me a drink!” Husk grumbles something under his breath as Angel passes you to get his drink.
“I think he's over it,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at Angel, who is drinking straight from the bottle. “So, an angel, huh? How exciting! My dad was an angel, too, y'know?” Vaggie looks unimpressed at your attempt to pretend this is new information, but you ignore her.
“Yeah…I know,” she says flatly. “Anyway, Carmilla agreed to supply us with angelic weapons at a discounted price, should we need them.”
“Why would we need them?” Charlie asks, looking worried. Vaggie looks away, briefly making eye contact with you.
‘Something’s going to happen on extermination day,’ you say, looking oddly certain.
“Just…in case,” she says, offering an unsure smile.
“Well ain't that fuckin’ ominous,” Angel pipes up from the bar. “Care ta enlighten us as ta why we might need em, toots? Something a little less vague than ‘Just in case'?” Angel puts down his drink (which is really just a whole bottle of what appears to be a mix of tequila and vodka—it’s a good thing he's already dead, you think to yourself) to make air quotes with his hand.
“Angel, I think you're drunk,” you say, diffusing the situation. “You're slurring your words.” He's not, but you figure the statement will draw his attention towards you and away from Vaggie. You don't need him prying and accidentally figuring out something he shouldn't know.
“Am not slurin’ my words” He slurs, then slumps over, immediately falling asleep in an almost cartoonish fashion. Well, you suppose you are in a cartoon, you think to yourself, but you know that's not the reason for his sudden drunken state.
No, you're sure the sleeping spell you cast on him was by far the more likely cause.
Alastor, who had been quietly observing the whole time, widens his grin with a look that seems to say ‘I know you did that’ but you ignore his gaze and ask Charlie for help taking Angel back to his room.
While Charlie is busy tucking a grown man into bed, you slip out of the room and bump right into Alastor, who seems to have followed the two of you back to Angel's room.
You have a bad feeling about this. Of all the many characters in Hazbin Hotel to avoid, Alastor probably ranked at the top of your list. You really don't need him getting curious about you.
“Why, hello there, little one,” he says, peering down at you. You think his eyes may be glowing, but you aren't sure.
“Uh, hi?” you say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You glance back at the door. Charlie will be emerging from it soon. She'll save you, right?
“I couldn't help but notice the little ‘stunt’ you pulled with dear Angel Dust earlier—quite amusing, I must say! And I don't say that lightly. Might I ask you to join me on a stroll so that we might…discuss it?” He asks. You swear the room’s temperature just dropped.
“I'm not going anywhere with you,” you say. “Dad told me not to talk to strangers.”
“Ah, still playing the role of an innocent child now, are we?” He says casually. You stand a little straighter. “Not to worry, I'm a good friend of your sister, and besides, we have much to discuss!”
“We don't have anything to ‘discuss’,” You say firmly, moving to walk past him when he grabs your arm.
“You may not have anything to discuss with me, but I have much to say to you,” he says. His tone then shifts to something more dangerous as he says, “And believe me,” he leans down to your level. “You don't want to see me when I get angry.” It's a cliché line and not at all scary. Even with the voodoo sigils floating around him and his radio-knob irises, you hold firm.
“If I scream, Charlie and the rest of the hotel will hear me,” you say. The static around you dissipates, and Alastor's grin twitches in annoyance.
“Very well,” he says, swinging his cane and turning to leave. “But this won't be our last encounter. Sooner or later, you'll give me the answers I want.” And just like that, he walks away.
Once he's out of view, you sink to your knees. Despite your firm insistence that he didn't scare you, it was stressful nonetheless. Having him leave merely sucked the stress out of you, and momentarily took the strength from your legs.
Yes, that's right. That's all it was. Your human nature makes you wary of him, but your demonic side keeps you steady. Soon, you'll be more demon than human, and this so-called ‘fear’ will be nothing more than a fleeting memory.
Not that you were scared.
“[Name]…? What are you doing on the floor?”
“It's comfortable down here,” you mutter, standing to your feet. “I'm going to bed early tonight. Where's my room again?”
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You flop on to your and Lucifer's bed (king-sized, thanks to Lucifer's magic), exhausted. You bring your stuffed demon bear (Mr. Snuggles—a gift from Lilith, before she left) to your chest and sigh. You close your eyes. A lot happened today, and you could use some rest.
But before that…
You open your eyes and sit upright, swinging your legs over the bed and standing. You walk to the small writing desk by the door and summon your diary from seemingly thin air, and begin writing. Journaling is a habit you formed as soon as you were able to hold a pen (this has left the first few entries of your diary completely illegible, but you were able to transcribe them once you had developed a steadier hand), and something you kept up to this day. You document today’s events, making sure to note Alastor’s suspicious behavior, then close and lock your diary. It’s a rather unnecessary step, considering you’ll be sending it back to the subspace you summoned it from, but the lock puts you at ease regardless.
You’ve just finished clicking the lock back into place when Lucifer walks in.
“What’s that?” He asks curiously, walking over to take a peek. Without thinking of how suspicious your actions may come across, you quickly dismiss the journal back to your subspace.
“Nothing!” You say, a tad too loudly. You clear your throat. “Nothing,” you say, quieter, this time. Lucifer opens his mouth to speak, and you realize you need to change the subject, and fast. “Um, I just realized we didn't bring any clothes with us. If we're going to be staying here, we'll need to get some.” Lucifer seems to hesitate before taking your bait, using magic to summon your wardrobe from the palace to the hotel’s drawers. You pick out a pair of pajamas and head to the bathroom to change, while Lucifer uses magic to change his own clothes instantly. When you return, he's already in bed, smiling and eagerly patting the space next to him.
Wait…what's in his hand?
You take a closer look.
Isn't that…?
Oh God.
Oh fuck.
“Dad, I don't-”
“C'mon, sweetie, let me read you a bedtime story!” He says, opening the book of fairytales, eyes practically shining. It's endearing, in a way, the way he constantly tries to be a good father to you. But it's also annoying. You're a grown adult, for Christ's sake. You don't want to be read a bedtime story.
But it's not like you can just tell him that.
“...Okay,” you say, climbing up to the bed and nestling yourself beside him.
It's surprisingly soothing. A hellish retelling of Cinderella, spoken to you in a soft, rhythmic voice. It reminds you of ASMR, in a way. You find yourself drifting off to sleep before you even realize you're tired.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
[Name] fell asleep.
It’s not surprising, the story Lucifer read to you is known to make children sleepy. Still, he was half-expecting it to fail, or for you to refuse to listen to a story altogether.
You look so young, curled up like this. So innocent.
You look like a kid.
Lucifer’s stomach churns. What were you writing about? He knows he should respect your privacy, but…
Something tells him it’s important. He’s seen you write in that notebook before. He knows it’s a diary.
He shouldn’t read it.
He shouldn’t but…
Lucifer taps into the subspace you’ve been using (you may be unusually good at magic for your age, but you’re still a novice. You haven’t learned to secure your network yet.). He pulls out your diary but pauses when he sees the lock.
He could open it with nothing more than a wave of his hand if he wanted to (and God, he did want to). But it feels wrong. Like he’s encroaching on something sacred.
If he puts it back now, nothing will change. He’ll stay ignorant. You’ll keep your secrets. But your relationship won’t be affected. The two of you will go back to playing family, and he’ll never know what’s so important to you that you created a private network and a lock to keep it hidden.
He could do that, but…
He opens the diary. The first few pages are impossible to decipher, but pages 6 and onwards are legible.
October 3rd, 20XX
This is a transcription of the following days: September1st, September 9th, September 16th, and September 22nd.
‘September 1st…? They couldn’t have been older than a month old when this was written,’ Lucifer thinks. Demons develop themselves faster than humans, but even by a demons standard, learning to read and write within just a month of being born is…unheard of.
Lucifer keeps reading.
September 1st, 20XX
I’m finally strong enough to crawl around and hold a pen. Thank goodness. Being trapped in a body you can’t control with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company is pure torture. Though, I suppose this is hell. Perhaps that was the point…? No, if that were the case, I’d never be able to walk and write, let alone so fast. I haven’t been able to keep track of the days, and the clocks are all too high to read, so I have no idea how long I’ve been here, but I saw a calendar hanging in the kitchen. I hope it’s up to date.
I was able to pinch myself today, but it didn’t hurt. I’d count it as evidence that I’m in a dream but…well, it could also just mean that I’m too weak for it to work. I’ll try again once I’m a little bigger.
Dreams don’t usually last this long, do they? Perhaps I’m in a coma. I must’ve gotten into a horrible accident, and I’m on the verge of death. This is just my brain spitting out random information from my subconscious. That’s why Lucifer and Lilith are here. That’s why I’m in Hazbin Hotel. It can’t be anything else.
Lucifer furrows his eyebrows. How did you know about the hotel, seven years before its opening?
September 9th, 20XX
Lilith gave me a Teddy bear today. She called it a hell bear. It’s cute, and something I probably would have kept in my room before all this. It’s less babyish than the rest of the things she’s given me. Lucifer named it for me. Mr. Snuggles, he says, in a mock baby voice. It’s bad. I know I’m in the body of a baby right now, but it still feels a little belittling whenever he does that. I used to pay taxes, you know! Sure, I liked cute things every now and again, but I was still a bona fide working adult. …Mr. Snuggles is a cute name, though.
A working adult? Taxes? You thought his baby voice was stupid?
Okay, maybe that last one was less important, but still. Ouch.
September 16th, 20XX
I finally found the library. Goodbye, boredom!
Lack of proper stimulation was slowly killing me. If I were an actual baby, the mobile and fairytales would probably have been enough to keep me sated, but, well, you know.
Anyway, the novels I’ve been reading lately have been pretty good, I think I’m able to more or less pick out which ones belonged to who. Mostly by the way they’re organized. The novels stored in the shelves under the staircase all have happy endings and sappy romance, they seem to be Charlie’s. The stories near the front have badass female protagonists and are usually crime mysteries and thrillers, probably belonging to Lilith. The informationals on various animals and other special interests are likely Lucifer’s. And the books in the very back…are all pornography. I’m not sure whose those are, and I’m not really sure I want to know.
Lucifer’s face turns bright red, and he nearly squeaks, but he manages to reel himself in and continue reading.
September 22nd 20XX
I’m able to crawl up stairs now. The second floor of the library is filled with Grimores. They contain complicated mathematical formulas and intricate sigils. I’ve done the math over and over, but I can’t seem to find any flaws with them. I’m not smart enough to have come up with the formulas on my own, so unless I’m doing something wrong, there’s a pretty good chance that this isn’t a dream after all.
Come to think of it, you’re not supposed to be able to read in dreams, either.
…I just pinched myself. Ouch.
Lucifer’s mind is racing. Nothing about this makes sense, and yet it explains so much, and yet—
He flips the page.
October 4th, 20XX
It took me a few days, but I’ve finally accepted this as my new reality. I’ve transmigrated into the body of [Name], a never before seen and likely nonexistent character of Hazbin Hotel, who just so happens to share the same name as myself.
It’s…a tough pill to swallow. I miss my family, my friends, my home.
I may never be able to go back. But I have to try. I’ll read every grimore in the library, even the ones written in ancient languages, I’ll find a way to translate them, I’ll learn the language if I have to. Whatever it takes, I will see this done. I can’t give up. Even if I have to lose what it means to be human, even if I have to become a demon, that’s okay, once I’m back, I can relearn what it means to be human. There’s so much I haven’t done back on Earth. So much I’ve never seen. So much I’ve never done, never said. I have too many regrets to just sit back and accept this.
I’ll find a way home.
You’re…leaving?
Home? You’re already home. This is your home now. These past seven years, have they all been a lie? Did it really mean nothing to you? Did he mean nothing to you?
Sure, you’ve always been distant, always been a bit too mature, but you were still a child. You were still his child.
Weren’t you?
You’re…going to leave. To throw him away. Just like Lilith.
No, he can’t lose you too. He won’t. He’ll find a way to stop you.
Even if it means you can’t smile the way you used to, even if it means you don’t love him the same. He has to keep you.
But he can’t do it alone.
Tucking the diary under his arm, Lucifer is careful not to wake you as he leaves your shared bedroom.
Taglist: @Halparkebitch @American-idiot21 @Toast-on-dandelioms @Mixplarab @aria-tempest @nirvana5874 @arsonist-on-fire @dollsgate @shoebillcuicui @galaxywing-has-adhd @sakuraluna2468 @luckywitchsong @ibcreations-blog @heather-hutchcroft @thoughtfulbananaduckcroissant @bee814 @deadgirldreaming @reikamasama @pandaquick
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin angel dust#angel dust#vaggie#yandere lucifer#yandere alastor
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Have any platonic Joshua and courier headcanons???
Woohoo! Yes!
Lots of just kinda existing in the vicinity of eachother as they do stuff. Like Joshua reads his Bible stuff or works on his massive collection of guns and The Courier fiddles around with their Pip-Boy or stitches up the holes in their clothes. Not really talking to eachother just existing. (Yes this is bonding time.)
Courier making sure to check in on Joshua at least semi-regularly while in Zion. Like after going around doin shit all day, they go to find Joshy boy and ask about his day, Its 90% of the time the same thing, but Joshua appreciates it.
"Look at this cool rock I found Joshua, Look at it." Lots of that. Joshua's collection of "cool rocks" is almost as big as his colleciton of .45s. Joshua does secretly appreciate that The Courier is thinking to show even insignificant things to him, like rocks and such, and that The Courier gives them to him!
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"I'll go to hell if I have to." Emma S.
✨Characters : Sano Emma, Ryuguji Ken, Sano Manjiro and Fem!Reader
Arc: Tenjiku✨
-Emma was no longer lonely. So she never felt the need to make friends.
-I mean, her brother Mikey, his friends and Draken were with her.
-She thought she was lucky, even though her mom had abandoned her.
-At school, everyone was scared of Emma because she was the Sano Manjirou aka Mikey's sister. I guess she didn’t even try to bond with her classmates.
-She probably wasn’t a problem student and certainly had above-average grades, but nothing more.
-It didn’t make her sad, actually.
-Trying to win Draken's heart take all her time !
-So, she really didn’t except you to become her friend.
-You were an ordinary person.
-Emma had seen an adorable plush and you gave her one.
-Emma had happily talk to you and thanked you a lot. Even if it was just a plush.
-You girls ended up talking in a coffee shop. And you exchange your phone numbers.
-Emma had been quick to mention her brother's delinquency and was surprised when you simply listened with curiosity.
-She was so happy. You were her first friend who had no connection with her brothers and delinquency.
-She told you about Draken almost immediately, complaining about him or, on contrary, having stars on her eyes.
-You knew every detail of each other’s lives. As if you were each other’s diaries.
-Emma loved to talk about her daily life, but sincerely appreciated that you didn’t hesitate to tell her everything too.
-Sometimes, she talked about Izana.
-You often had pyjamas parties! At her place or yours.
-That’s how you met Mikey and Draken.
-You were convinced in your heart that Draken loves Emma too.
-You tried to convince her to confess her love but she always refuses !
-When her brother, Shinichiro, died, you always supported her. You listened her for hours and buy her groceries she likes.
-Emma had once again lost a person she loved.
-After that, she almost saw you as her sister. Or platonic soulmates.
-It became like a ritual: whenever she had the slightest problem, you were in the top1 list of person to see first.
-Mikey, Draken and you were definitely Emma’s favorite people. She didn’t want to lose any of you.
-She had already lost too many people.
-Imagine her shock the day she almost got into a car accident after having an argument with Draken.
-She walked frustrated and hadn’t look the road.
-You’d saved her by pushing her, but you couldn’t save yourself.
-Emma had cried so hard and Draken had hurried over to see you.
-"Ryuguji… Could you protect Emma? Please."
-What if you weren’t dead, but in a deep coma ?
-Mikey, Draken often visited you, thanking you for saving Emma.
-Emma visited you every day. Crying or telling you about her day and asking how you were, just like you used to.
-But you didn’t answer.
-You no longer reassured her, no longer argued with her when she went too far for Draken.
-She missed you.
-You body didn’t move, blink or tremble. Despite all the years.
-"Hey… If you wake up, I'll confess to Ken-chan. So please come back soon, okay ?"
-When it was your birthday, she’ll give you your favorite fruits and flowers.
-One day, she stopped to visiting you. So did Mikey.
-Emma was dead. Killed by delinquents in the run-up to the fighting between the Touman and the Tenjiku.
-After her funeral, the one who came to see you every day was Draken.
-He told you in your coma that you best friend had died.
-He told you that you were right and that he had been in love with her all along.
-Draken had cried. You had entrusted him with you best friend’s life. And he couldn’t keep his promise.
-"Mikey said Emma wanted you back."
-"I'll go to hell gladly if I have to, so please wake up."
-Maybe he'd been dreaming, but he saw you crying that day.
#I want to cry rn#Emma and Draken relationship is my reason to live#I want to write a fanfic rn.#tokyo revengers#anime#anime / manga#bonten#mikey bonten#tenjiku#izana#draken#ryuguji ken#ken ryuuguji#manjirou sano#sano manjiro#mikey#emma#sano emma#emma sano#tokrev
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Hi! I have a request if you don’t mind. Could you please write hc’s of Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, and Lucifer x platonic reader who’s a fem boy theater kid? You don’t have to of course.
Yeah ofc! As a recovering theater kid myself, this will definitely be an interesting thing to write today. Also I apologize that this has been sitting undone for almost a month 😭
Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, and Lucifer x Theater kid! Reader
Pronouns: Second person, implied male (cause femboy)
Tw:
Alastor -
- So this man???
- Fucking loves you to your core.
- Like he is the embodied of radio, so the fact you like musicals or just anything music related makes you an automatic 10/10 friend to him.
- Would sing musical songs with you too, and would actually be good at it too??
- He also makes jokes about broadcasting you on his radio show, but just leaves it at that.
- Just to be safe don't ever go on it.
- As for you being a femboy, man does not care
- Like he's chill with Angel dust, and probably other femboys (I can't think of anymore characters who are femboys, sue me.)
- Over all, 7/10, little worried he may or may not actually kill you live.
Angel Dust -
- Bro...
- Y'all twinning fr.
- Femboy + musical nerd combo honestly slays.
- Will preform musicals with you, tried his hardest to sing but he's a fucking tenor and most men are baritones (at least from what I know pookies) so it's a little goofy occasionally
- But he honestly doesn't give a singular shit as to any of that, long as you're happy
- 20/10, he slays hardcore, and at least he tries.
Husk -
- I actually don't know what to write for him???
- Like I don't think he would care?????
- He just likes chilling, so as ling as you can keep a good conversation going for monger than 20 seconds, then it's all good.
- 5/10, he's confusing me y'all
Lucifer -
- JERMEY JORDAN MY HUSBAND
- Anyways, yes he's Jermey Jordan y'all.
- Sings with you constantly, like CONSTANTLY
- Y'all also sometimes use the ducks to remake the musical
- It's so silly goofy
- As for you being a femboy...
- He's legit the ruler of hell, he will get you all of the clothing and makeup you want
- Like thats a promise.
- 10/10, just the perfect amount of support and love.
Sorry this is like oddly short 😭 I just felt there wasn't really much to say, but I hope you enjoyed!!
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel x reader#platonic#hazbin hotel angel dust#husk hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#i'm losing my mind
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Maxima slice of life
SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader
TFP
The kids wanted a sleep over at the base.
It took weeks of begging and pestering, mainly for Ratchet’s part in it.
Ratchet, being the softy he was, eventually gave the green light for the sleepover.
The bots themselves were curious on how these ‘sleepovers’ worked.
Bumblebee, Maxima, and Smokescreen were the most knowledgeable from the group having seen more human films with depictions of sleepovers.
The bots did join in, but it was three younger bots who mainly joined in the little games the kids had.
Monopoly was now banned from the base.
“You cheat! How dare you take the last railroad!”--Miko
“You snooze you lose Miko.”--Jack
“You knew I wanted that!”--Miko
“Think of it as pay back for money I had to pay for your house.”--Jack
“That’s it! I’m going to take your house and I’m taking Maxima and Smokescreen with me!”--Miko
“Fine! I’ll take Bee and Raf then!”--Jack
“I’ll see you in court!”--Miko
Maxima carefully reaching for the board.
“How about we play something else?”--Maxima
Eventually everyone had gone to sleep.
Except Maxima.
She couldn’t sleep for some reason. Tossing and turning in her berth she eventually gave up and went to the main room.
Maybe a midnight drive around would do her good.
She walked into the main room only to spot Raf wide awake on his laptop.
“Raf?”--Maxima
Raf jumps a bit and looks at Maxima.
“Maxima? What are you doing up?”--Raf
“I could ask the same thing. I’m pretty sure humans need more than 3 hours of sleep Raf.”--Maxima
Raf nods a bit before shyly replying.
“I can’t sleep.”--Raf
Maxima quietly walks up to him.
Raf wrapped his yellow blanket a bit closer to his body.
“Nightmares?”--Maxima
“No, just can’t sleep.”--Raf
Maxima nods in understanding.
“Same here. I was actually going to head to the roof for a bit, you want to join?”--Maxima
Raf nods his head a bit tightening his grip on the blanket again.
Maxima carefully scoops Raf up, mindful of the blanket, and quietly walked to the elevator.
Once they reach the top, she walks to her spot and lays down on the rocky surface, and places Raf Burrito in her subspace chassis.
There were still some stars in the sky.
The two begin to talk about life and retell stories.
“Then there was that one time I tried following Orion to the arena—”--Maxima
“Orion? Like Orion Pax?”--Raf
“Yeah, that was also the day I met Megatronus.”--Maxima
“You met Megatron!”--raf
“He was known as Megatronus at that time. Completely different mech than the one you know now.”--Maxima
“Really? I heard from Ratchet that he was a ruthless gladiator and was almost like a brother to Optimus.”--Raf
“He was ruthless in the arena… but to me… he was just my Uncle Megatronus, trying to do his best to help other bots around.”--Maxima
“…Do you miss them?”--Raf
Maxima pauses a bit.
“Miss who?”--Maxima
“Megatronus and Orion. Do you miss them?”--Raf
“… I miss how things were a bit simpler before the war, everyone does to an extent.”--Maxima
Raf nods, still a bit curious why Maxima avoided answering the question.
“But enough of that sappy stuff. Miko and I found some music the other day, I think you’d like some of these songs.”--Maxima
Raf slowly falls asleep on her chassis after a few minutes of the softer music playing.
Maxima opens her subspace in her chassis and puts him in there while keeping the hatch open.
She stays there on her back for a bit longer thinking about Orion Pax and the memories they shared together before the war started.
A few tears spilled as dawn was fast approaching on the horizon.
Carefully, Maxima gets up, to not disturb Raf, and goes back down to the base.
She exits the elevator seeing Ratchet and Optimus walking into the main room.
They must have wanted to get in the peace and quiet of the day before everyone else woke up.
Ratchet gave her a pointed look while Optimus gave her a questioning one.
She makes a shushing motion pointing at Raf in her subspace.
The two other mech nod as Maxima gently places the smaller human back in his place with the others.
She yawns a bit, venting softly.
Tenses a bit feeling someone pick her up and placing her on their back.
Optimus has her and pulls her into a piggyback ride back to her room.
“Optimus? You don’t need to do this.”--Maxima
He looks over at his sparkling with sleep in her optics.
“Really its fine I can get to my room—"--Maxima
Optimus only tightens his grip a little and walks to her room.
Maxima looks over at Ratchet for help.
He just smiles a bit before going back to work.
“Traitor.”—Maxima
Maxima lays her helm on Optimus’s neck cables and vents softly accepting defeat.
Optimus reaches the door to only then realize that Maxima had fallen asleep on his back.
“Some things do not change with you Little one.”—Optimus
He opens the door and makes his way to the berth where he gently places her down.
The Prime gently ran his digit on his sparklings helm like he did as Orion Pax eons ago.
Maxima lets a small smile slip in her sleep.
“Rest well Little one.”—Optimus
He gets up and softly closes the door before returning to the main room.
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There were only three people that Regulus had let see the most vulnerable and weakest part of him; Sirius, James and Remus.
— Remus was his best friend, the person he trusts completely. With whom he could spend hours and hours reading in silence and would never get tired or feel uncomfortable. Regulus knew that he could tell Remus anything. That he was, in some way, his platonic soulmate. Remus was the person with whom he could be completely calm, the person with whom he understood without having to speak.
When he looked at Remus he couldn't help but see himself; a different version of him. And Regulus couldn't help but smile when thinking about that. He really loved Remus, he was a very important person in his life. He would risk anything for him.
— Sirius was his brother, the person he loves most in the world, the person who was there for him since he was born. Regulus loved Sirius in a way that no one could understand, only they knew how much they needed each other. If Sirius, for some reason, stopped being there for Regulus; a very large part of him would be empty, dead. It was a connection, a bond, a type of love that only brothers share.
By blood or heart, whatever; they were stars of the same constellation. Children of the same mother. Victims of a shared pain.
And Regulus needed his big brother so much. His care, his comfort. Cry in his arms and know that everything was going to be okay, that his big brother was there for him. Regulus could be small, weak child who cried and trembled in his older brother's arms, paralyzed with fear; or an lost, scared adult, fearing like a little child, and yet he would always feel protected in Sirius' arms. Because Sirius had seen the worst and the best of him, and he still was proud of his little brother.
And even if for a period of time he couldn't say it, even if for a period of his life was hard to admit it, Sirius would give his life for his baby brother. And Regulus loved Sirius so, so much. Regulus wouldn't be the person he is if it weren't for his big brother.
— James was the love of his life, his soulmate. Regulus lives for him and would die for him. James was his everything. He adored every part of James as if he were the most beautiful thing in the world, and he was.
Every time he looked into James' dark brown eyes he couldn't help but think about how the man in front of him had no idea how much he loved him.
It was cute to know that James thought exactly the same.
But even if James told him a thousand times that he loved him with all his being, Regulus would never believe him. Not completely, at least. Because Regulus would never believe that James could love him as much as he loved him, because what Regulus felt was so strong that it was almost painful.
There was no human way, no words enough, no actions possible that could show how much Regulus loved that man.
James was the sun to his star, the day to his night.
Regulus never knew what it was like to feel loved, complete, before he met James. And sometimes it was frustrating not having the words to say it. An I love you was not enough, an I love you was nothing compared to what Regulus felt.
Sometimes Regulus just wanted to grab James' face and scream, because jeez, he loved him so much that it crossed the line to the opposite side. He sometimes wanted to punch his stupid, handsome face for forcing him to love him more than anyone could love.
James was an idiot, and god, Regulus loved him so much that he cried once a month thinking about it. Regulus loved him so much he fucking hated him, because, how could an idiot like James Potter make his whole world his?
Everyone revolved around the sun, no one could avoid it. It was so bright and warm, gravity was pulling them towards it.
But Regulus was completely his.
James didn't know the power he had over Regulus and sometimes he scared himself thinking about how much control James had over his emotions.
James Fleamont Potter had no idea that he had next to him an idiot who would die and kill in each one of his lives to spend just one with him.
And Regulus had no idea that James would tear his heart out of his chest and hand it to his worst enemy if it meant he could see Regulus' beautiful eyes looking back at his one more day.
#damn#𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔⋆#jegulus#starchaser#sunseeker#regulus black#regulus#regulus black headcanon#regulus black headcanons#regulus black hc#regulus headcanon#sirius and regulus#trans regulus black#james potter#james potter headcanons#james potter hc#james potter headcanon#james fleamont potter#sirius black#sirius black headcanon#remus lupin#remus lupin headcanons#jegulus headcanons#jegulus headcanon#james loves regulus#marauders#marauders era#marauders headcanon#moonwater#platonic moonwater
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Hi babes. Could I uh… get a part two of Steve with robins gf??? Maybe a secret fuck with Robin just in another room??? Or them making plans to meet somewhere??? Which ever u like better hehehe I love you 💖💖💖
Pt One! Steve Harrington x Bi!Reader
CW: Cheating, Unprotected sex
Love youuuuu <3
You felt terrible.
It was slowly killing you inside. The awful things that you did. And who you did it with. Steve should've been the last person you sought out. Him and Robin were close, like siblings. Platonic soulmates. you were sure he knew more about her than you did.
You had debated about telling her, then ultimately decided not to. You weren't sure what she would do if she found that that you had slept with Steve. You didn't want to hurt her.
But that didn't stop the guilt from eating at you. It got worse every day and you found yourself doing whatever you could to avoid Steve. Any time you were in the same room it grew awkward. There was tension now, strong and thick. You feared that Robin would grow suspicious.
But it was hard. It was so frustratingly difficult to stay away from Steve. You swore you didn't feel anything for him before, even if you were aware of how attractive he was.
You were drawn into him now, forced to stare at his floppy hair and big brown eyes. You enjoyed the way his pink lips curled into a smile, how his teeth were always white and shiny. He spoke with his hands and had so many moles and freckles that you were sure you could spend hours counting.
You were, without a doubt, fucked.
“What’s this for?” His warm voice rang through the kitchen, taking you by surprise as you jolted in your spot. You cleared your throat, avoiding his soft gaze as you pretended like you weren't just thinking about him.
“Our anniversary,” You spoke slowly, sternly, “Mine and Robin’s.” You clarified, furrowing your eyebrows together in worry that he may somehow think you were speaking about him. That was silly.
“She’ll like that,” Steve responded, unable to help himself as he used his finger to swipe off a piece of the icing. He met your eyes, watching the way the colors intensified as he brought the icing onto his tongue slowly, “Sweet.” He mumbled as he licked his finger clean, quite happy with the way you couldn’t tear your eyes away.
“Steve-,” You dragged out slowly, unsure of what you were really going to say. All you could do was stare at the way his tongue flicked out against his fingers. You pictured his fingers inside of your cunt, buried deep as he lapped at your clit.
You both froze, the hair on you standing straight up as you listened to Robin come clambering down the hallway. She had a cheery look on her face, but it disappeared as she looked at you two. You felt your heart crash to the floor, sure that she knew.
“Oh you dingus,” Robin whined as she looked at the cake, “You messed it up.” She responded as she gestured towards the cake. You exhaled, feeling like you had almost lost the ability to breathe.
“I took one little lick, you can’t even notice.” Steve scoffed, brushing her off as he leaned against the counter in amusement. You did your best not to stare, trying to ignore the way his shirt drifted up over his midriff.
“You put your nasty finger in it, of course I’m going to notice.” She huffed, shaking her head as she moved her arms around your waist. For the first time in your relationship, you shied away, unable to handle her touching you while Steve was staring so intensely.
"Do you want a Coke?" You asked her instead, playing it off as you opened the fridge, "I'm so thirsty." You drew out playfully, sighing deeply like you were parched.
"Sure," She said, looking at you curiously as you took several swigs from the can before you handed it to her. You wiped the liquid away from the corner of your lips, swallowing the bubbles roughly as you ignored Steve's look, "You alright?" Robin looked at you curiously, her gaze and tone softer as she inspected you.
"Mhm," You responded quickly as you motioned back towards the room, "I'm going to get ready. I'll be down soon." You told her, already dreading what the night would hold. You felt like you were doomed, like soon all of your secrets would come pouring out. Or that she would just now. Both scenarios terrified you.
You locked yourself into your shared bedroom, holding your palm flat against your chest as you willed your heart to calm down. You were so panicked about Robin finding out, but even more worried that you didn't regret what happened. You feared that meant it would happen again. It couldn't. But deep down, you thought that you wanted it to.
You stared at yourself in the mirror for the longest time, breathing in deeply until the guilt was erased from your eyes. Everything would be fine. It would never happen again and you would never hurt Robin.
"Hey," Robin popped her head in, making you jolt as her blue eyes scanned over your form for just a second, "I'm gonna run and go pick the food up, do you want anything to drink?"
"Is Steve going?' You asked as you pressed your fingers together. Your anniversary dinners with Robin were always the same. Burgers and fries from the restaurant you used to work at, where you met her at.
"To get our anniversary dinner?" Robin questioned sarcastically, making you force out a laugh in response. Of course he wasn't. You'd be alone with him. Perfect.
"Right," You nodded your head, "Sorry. Silly question." You responded, pulling a smile to your lips as she kissed the corner of your mouth. You breathed in deeply, pretending to be busy as she left. You just needed to distract yourself until she got back.
You fussed with the sheets on the bed, then with the clothes you were wearing. The room soon became too much for you; constant reminders of how happy you two were. How loyal you once were. It was driving you mad.
You slowly shut the door behind you, trying not to make a noise as you then dragged yourself down the hallway. You lingered near Steve's room for just a second too long, making you shake the thoughts from your mind. A shower. You needed a really cold shower.
You startled as you turned the corner, nearly bumping into the person you were trying to avoid as he tumbled from the bathroom. Steam rolled out of the room with him, leaving you in a cloudy haze as water dripped from his hair and onto his smooth shoulders.
His hands fell to your waist, holding you steady so you didn't topple straight into his wet skin. Your body burned where he touched, lighting your body into thick flames. You moved your eyes across the hair on his chest, across the moles that decorated his skin like constellations.
"Funny meeting you like this," He mumbled as his hands stayed glued to your hips, making all of your insides melt as you met his dark eyes, "What are you rushing around for?"
"Just getting ready for Robin," You replied once you found your voice, trying to act like you weren't picking out the different colors in his eyes, "She'll be here soon."
"Maybe," He said in agreement, speaking slowly as his eyes stayed glued to your lips, "Traffic is pretty bad at this time." He breathed out as he brushed his thumbs into your flesh. It was enough to topple you over.
"Steve," You breathed out softly, hotly as you stared at his pretty hazel eyes, "This can't happen again." You told him, wishing that your voice was fierce and stern.
"What can't happen again?" He asked, his eyes drifting down towards the curve of your lips. You darted your eyes across the freckles on his nose, desperately wanting to see just how far they decorated his skin.
"Us," You mumbled, fully aware of how close he was to you now, "It's wrong." You told him, feeling the electricity forming between the two of you. You thought of how well his cock had fit inside of you, how your walls had hugged his girth snuggly.
His gaze was dark and heavy again, just as it had been that night. You drifted your lips across his pretty pink lips, thinking of how nicely they'd molded against your own.
"I thought it was our little secret?" He asked, shrugging his shoulders softly as if it was no big deal. You skin erupted into flames as he continued to press his thumbs against your skin, nearly making you fall to your knees as you felt the shameful feeling fill you again.
You met his eyes fully for a moment, realizing just how desperately he wanted it too. You could deal with the guilt later; could live with it for the rest of your life. You just needed one thing at the moment. Him.
He brought his lips down against yours first, kissing you soft and hesitant. You moved your lips just as shyly before your body picked up, pressing yourself flush against his body as your mouth moved against his more urgently.
He brought his large hands to your face, cupping your cheeks as his lips became rough against yours. It was sloppy, messy and you savored it all.
You pushed him back, enjoying the way a groan left his mouth and tingled across your lips. It made you that more feverish, desperate to feel more of him as you tugged the towel free from his waist.
All previous thoughts had disappeared as you kissed down the curve of his neck, enjoying the soft sounds that rolled off of his tongue. He had the prettiest groans. It made your stomach twist in pleasure, made you desperate as you fell to your knees.
A gasp left his lips as he stared down at you, eyes dark and hazy as you wrapped your fingers around his thick girth. You enjoyed how he filled out in your hand, how pink his tip was and the way it throbbed against your skin.
"S'pretty," You breathed out, not caring how it sounded as his hips moved in the motions of your hand. You took a broad lick of the length of his cock, savoring how heavy and warm he felt against your tongue, "Like that?" You whispered, desperate to hear just how much he enjoyed you.
"Mhm," He groaned as he threaded his fingers through his own hair, his eyebrows wrinkling together as you wrapped your lips around his tip. You bobbed your head slowly, flicking your tongue across the underside of his cock as you breathed in the fresh scent of him, "Jesus, fuck. S'nice." He mumbled as he pressed his hips forward, thrusting his long cock further inside of your mouth.
Your lips burned as they stretched around his thick girth, your throat aching at the way he kept hitting the back of your throat. You felt your eyes fluttering from the rough motions but refused to look away from his pleasure.
Drool slid from the corner of your mouth as you gagged roughly around him. You moved your hands to his thighs, supporting yourself as you savored the taste of him on your tongue.
"Wait, wait," He breathed out roughly as he slowly slid his hard cock from your mouth, making a pout form on your lips as he panted out, "Wanna feel you. C'mere." He begged as he tugged you back onto your feet.
Your thighs trembled, your knees threatening to give out as he pressed you up against the wall. You ignored the way the pictures that were hanging shook, how they threatened to fall as he began stripping you from the clothes you had so delicately put on.
They fell into a pile by his towel, joining the discarded mess as he hooked your leg over his waist. You held onto his biceps, gasping as he began to drag his pink tip over your pretty pussy.
"Tell me to stop," He begged as he dropped his forehead against yours, his nose bumping against your skin softly, "Tell me to go away." He groaned as he slid his cock through your folds again, making you grind your hips forward.
You should. You should push him away and tell him to never touch you again. That was the smart thing to do. You didn't do that though. You couldn't even think about doing that.
"I want you," You said softly, slowly as you brought your eyes up towards his again. You rubbed your palms across his shoulders, touching him gently, "Please. I need you."
He nodded his head in agreement, groaning as he gripped the base of his cock and slowly slid himself inside of your wet hole. You gaped, letting your head fall back against the wall as the pleasure spread through your body.
His cock stretched you out, making your eyes flutter in bliss as he bottomed out inside of you. He rubbed at the back of your thigh, grunting as he slowly rutted into you.
A loud sigh left your mouth as you were sure nothing had ever felt this good before. You rocked against him, crying out at the way his cock curved inside of you. He fit snuggly, the tip of him pressing against your bundle of nerves with each little movement.
"Steve," You moaned as you dug your fingertips into his flesh, desperately needing him closer as he built up a steady rhythm. His skin met yours with urgency, rocking into you deeply as you pressed yourself even closer to him, "More. Please, please. I need you."
His grunts filled your ears, blending with the sound of your moans as you dragged his cock in and out of your wet cunt with a new sense of desperation. You moved your hands to his strong jawline, gripping him tightly before you brought your mouth up against his.
Your lips molded against his nicely, fitting perfectly before he slid his tongue against yours. You moaned at the sensation, whimpering as your stomach coiled in pleasure. The back of your neck grew warm and sweaty, your body burning at the perfect way his cock fit inside of you. Like a missing puzzle piece.
"Jesus," He grunted as he pulled away, a line of spit connecting you two as he rutted deeper into your cunt, "Feel so good. You feel so fucking good. So wet and tight. Squeezing me so good." He rambled out hoarsely, moaning between each word.
His words spread through your body, tickling you with pleasure and deep lust as you dragged your lips against the side of his mouth. You clung to him, squeezing roughly as the sound of your flesh meeting bounced off of the walls.
"God, Stevie," You whined as you rocked your hips against him, feeling incoherent with pleasure as your legs began to tremble, "Right there, oh my God. Fuck, fuck." You squealed in bliss, crying out as the pleasure tumbled through you.
Your body seized, your clit throbbing roughly as your pussy clamped down around his cock. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, pulsing as you shook around him.
“Fuck,” He groaned as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, thrusting into you slowly and deep as your orgasm continued to tingle through your body, “So fucking close. You feel so good.”
“Gonna cum inside me, Steve?” You asked him, whispering into his ear as his moans turned into whines. It made your body shiver, your fingers dig deep into his skin as he held you close. You could feel his sweaty skin pressing against yours, almost like you were molding together.
“Jesus,” He groaned loudly before burying his face in your neck, moaning as he bottomed out inside of your wet cunt, “Fuck, fuck.” He whined, his cock twitching as thick ropes of his cum filled your fluttering hole.
You brushed your cheek against his, enjoying the way he panted into your skin as the feeling washed over you. It was sinful, dirty. But it was yours. Your own little secret to keep. You could live with that.
#steve harrington#Steve Harrington x reader#Steve Harrington x bi!reader#Steve harrington x reader smut#Steve Harrington smut#Steve Harrington x you#Steve Harrington x you smut#Steve Harrington x y/n#Steve Harrington x fem!reader#cheating#tw cheating
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Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…
So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse
Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good
Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!
ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3
summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent
type of post: short fics
characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo
additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it
Jamil Viper
Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.
That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.
Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.
It's a bit strange, isn't it?
Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.
He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.
But that sense of unease doesn't go away.
He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.
And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.
"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."
You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.
"Thank you," you mumble.
You can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.
"I'm fine,"
Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.
"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.
"I've... had a rough day,"
Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"
He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.
"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"
It.
What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.
"Did something happen?"
You hesitate.
"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"
Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.
He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.
But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.
"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"
"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."
He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.
He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.
"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"
Unlike me, he thinks.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"
Like me.
You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.
A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank you, Jamil,"
He hugs back. "Of course,"
Ruggie Bucchi
It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.
You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.
Ruggie included.
He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.
He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.
And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.
Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?
He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.
Sigh.
"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"
"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."
The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.
"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.
"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"
You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.
You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"
"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."
The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"
"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"
Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.
"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"
"Did you find it?"
"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"
You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.
After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"
"What?"
"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"
You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.
Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"
"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"
"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"
He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"
"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"
You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.
And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He struggles to respond for a moment.
"That's rough,"
Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.
"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."
"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."
He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"
The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.
"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"
Leona Kingscholar
Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.
Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...
But that didn't bother him. Not at all.
As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.
That plan lasts about five hours.
"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"
That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.
And it's getting closer.
"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."
Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.
"I'm trying,"
This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.
"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"
Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.
He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.
"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."
"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"
This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.
You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"
"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"
"This is-"
"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.
"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"
Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"
"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?
"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.
"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"
"Your... offer...?"
Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"
"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"
He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."
Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.
"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."
Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"
"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."
"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.
As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"
"Are you alright?" he asks.
Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"
"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"
"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"
Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.
"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"
You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"
He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"
Floyd Leech
Of course, he can tell something's up right away.
Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.
His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?
Now this catches his attention.
"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.
"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."
"But you're not,"
"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"
Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"
"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"
Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.
"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"
"Why?"
There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.
"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"
He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"
"FLOYD!"
He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.
When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.
"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."
You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"
"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.
Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"
"Are they ill?"
You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"
"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"
Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"
"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.
Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.
"Now will you tell me?"
"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"
Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"
"Tell me about it,"
"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"
You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"
"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."
"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.
His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"
His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"
"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"
"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"
His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"
"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"
You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"
Rollo Flamme
Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.
The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.
The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?
They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.
He loathed being talked down to.
Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.
And now you're just quiet.
"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug.
"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"
No response at all.
Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.
"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"
"No,"
A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.
"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"
That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"
He struggles for the right words.
How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.
Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.
Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?
He couldn't quite come up with an answer.
"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."
"It's not your fault,"
"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.
"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.
Another pause.
"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#jamil viper x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#floyd leech x reader#rollo flamme x reader#can't believe this is the first time I've written for rollo on this blog... bby I've missed u
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i think if marcus was white hardly anybody would be shipping sydney with carmy cause let’s be fucking fr… sydney and carmen’s dynamic is so different even without the hierarchy
including the brigade, marcus has been scolded by sydney before she is one ladder rung above him and sydney has taken so much shit from carmy her boss it’s taken them forever to be where they were at the end of season two
carmy is almost toxic most of the time i hate that fucking word but it’s the truth! i mean he’s human it’s perfectly normal to have a lot of emotions but the way he loses his cool. would you really wanna work or put up with someone like that? no but you encounter people like that in life all the time. at least he acknowledges when he’s being shitty and tries to apologize for it. it is exhausting still. and shit i don’t blame syd if she never feels anything but platonic feelings towards carm.
i just think it would be the more popular ship if marcus looked a certain way given that their friendship already feels like the start of something and most of the time carmy is just cordial with sydney im open to it still don’t get me wrong i love the idea of them
i feel like people always have trouble seeing the black character who’s a comrade anything more than a friend the same can be said about sydney and carmen but it just feels different when it comes to marcus because he’s a Man. i don’t wanna start a horrible negative discussion btw just sharing an unpopular opinion that’s why i brought it on tumblr cause who gives a shit tbh this is just a show that isn’t hurting anybody still like sydcarmy don’t come at me with words about hating them lol
#the bear hulu#the bear#carmen carmy berzatto#sydney syd adamu#sydney adamu#ayo edebiri#marcus the bear#marcus brooks#jeremy allen white#lionel boyce
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he’s her fun lil social experiment
#Thinking about when my classics teacher said that the relationship between Athene and Odysseus is one of the most tender#Relationships between man and god#Like it’s almost platonic but not really#Like she’s his cool aunt#Who saves his life#But also treats his life like a fun lil game#But she also really likes him and favours him#Like I see Athene as aro ace so like idk but she holds some ‘love’ for him#shes kinda meant to look like a statue#Or whatever#athena#odysseus#the odyssey#mythology art#my art#greek myth#Tap for better quality I think
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LOOK, I CAN EXPLAIN- I really loved their dynamic (in every aspect) in the game and feel like they don't get enough attention :(
This also got inspired by the behind the scenes video from the guy who helped shaped the fighting styles for MK1. He said that he was the most sore after Kung Lao, sooooo im just guessing he got mad shoulder strength LMAO
#fanart#digital#doodle#my art#art#mk1 2023#mortal kombat#mortal kombat 1#kung lao#raiden#mk1 raiden#railao#i also really love railao#i think they're neat#like - i like johny cage and kenshi with everyone else#but I feel like this duo doesnt get enough attention#both in platonic and romantic#also im sorry if their face changes almost every drawing#they so realistic and everyone is SO HANDSOME i literally cannot translate 99% of the time
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OKAY. Am I the only one fascinated by how much Alastor in s1 has interacted with other demons and built a potential for considerable amount of different, broad and unique relationships? With All of them being non-romantic/sexual?
I really don't wanna dive into the discourse of shipping coz honestly, I do think that erasing Al's aroaceness is not cool at all. Personally, I don't see him wishing any romance/sex at all, and well. Considering how platonic he actually is throughout the season, it kinda seems like people forget that friendship (or basically anything non rom-sex) exists in the first place.
Coz, like, let's see what we got::
Vox -- probably one-sided (psychosexual) crush from Vox with possible past friendship between them, them hating on each other yet having (used to have) some respect as well. The ANGST, the drama (for both of sides). Insert aroace troubles (possible aphobia from Vox? Or not? He may be biggest ally as well!) and Vox's petty feelings that are insanely interesting to explore (and laugh at).
Lucifer -- immediate hate that (with a course of events) can turn into forced bonding. The potential of queerplatonic parenting of Charlie is HUGE here. Insecurities from Al? Forced care? Banters? SHENANIGANS? Luci patching up Al after battle, prolly discovering his deal and them slowly bonding on shared interests? Hey.
Rosie -- literal established queerplatonic partners, married for tax benefits, spending their evenings gossiping, hating on Susan and Al rolling his eyes on another romance-rel drama Rosie was trying to help sb with. Rosie can have insane influence on him whether it is understanding modern things or just being with him when he needs it. It also gives off mom/son to me.
Husk -- fucked up master-pet not-friendship with probable care rooted since they were closer in past. Is it toxic? Yes. Is it giving off some problematic dynamic? Sure. Yet it's fucking complex on its core considering pilot, bits and pieces of their interaction and how easily Husk used to insult Al until he overstepped. Them two are quite similar if you think about it and if Al got over his ego it could benefit him a lot.
Niffty -- daugther/father dynamic with them sharing one sadistic-psycho braincell and genuinely enjoying each other's quirks. Protective Al? I just need more Niff and them two being partners in the most outrageous crimes.
Mimzy -- friendship going since they were humans, with them having an amazing (potential) backstory of sharing evenings on two. Al enjoying her company as well as being protective and helpful to her with nothing in return.
Charlie -- manipulated into trusting you as a dad figure? Don't tell me there is nothing below Al's creepy plans or that he wouldn't grow to care for her. He already is proud of her and finds amusement in her inspiration-skills (also, performance is his thing for a reason)
Angel -- I was honestly kinda upset we didn't see any interactions between them except one sex joke, coz my past era of Hunicasts was a fuel to their duo. Them bonding over how different they are is the best description of their dynamic. Also banters and body-puns.
You can't just erase Alastor from interacting with people, but putting him inside boxes of allonormative relationships while he has such a fucking huge potential for everything beyond just that - is quite.. disappointing. People turning a blind eye to a wide variety of relationships he can have (potential to which is set in canon) for the sake of just romance/sex is low key sad.
It's AWESOME to see ppl actually understanding it and.. damn THANKS to everyone who explores Al's relationship with others without it involving final wish to stick tongues into places. Dynamics can be interesting and exciting without it.
I really don't wanna project my romance-aversion onto Al, but when romance and sex is one thing you see everywhere.. it's hard to just let it slip.
You are allowed to do whatever you want, exploring physical intimacy is fun as well, and having Al, well, there are bunch of ways to show it with respecting his orientation and the fact that IT AFFECTS RELATIONSHIPS/ATTRACTIONS but please just don't make it the center of your attention, the one thing relationship revolves around, coz sadly it's just exactly how it looks like from some folks.
#hazbin hotel#aromantic#hazbin hotel alastor#aroace alastor#aromantic alastor#asexual alastor#asexual#radiostatic#onewaybroadcast#radioapple#appleradio#radiorose#radiohusk#radiodust#charlastor#alastor x mimzy#<- as duos/dynamics/nonrom ships#NOT IN SHIP-SHIP WAY#i mostly made this post just to express how MUCH i like the fact that canon explores Al so broadly#im kinda Al multishipper. just. not romantically#it turned into discourse at the end didn't it?#my aro ass is sorry#but not really#i just want more attention to a platonic side of relationship#whoever it is with honestly#and i'm done seeing people almost erasing every single platonic interaction after romantic/sexual ones are introduced#i love ppl being intimate yet remaining platonic tho
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