#its cher bitch
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Sasha Colby for Galore
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just planned out chapter four for my steveddie fic, but sadly I have to get a new AO3 account bc I cant log into my old one 😔 ✌
#the way Im actually sobbing rn#its being a bitch rn#ao3#steddie#steveddie#stranger things#stranger things 4#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#cher talks#cher rambles#stranger-things-shit-posting
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Shrike pt 1
[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” I did my best for an ace x ace relationship, based on personal experience. Both parties are moderately sex favorable since writing from my own experience is easiest, so I’m not sure if this counts as QPR. Written mostly in spite over all the Alastor smut. And overly innocent reader inserts. I don’t mind some smut but c’mon people.]
[Part 1/2 Word count 5506/12026]
[cw: blood, violence, mild gore, attempted sexual assault, fluff]
Behind every great man is a great woman? Well, behind every sophisticated murderer is an equally charming murderess. Maybe not as accurate a statement but that’s how you and your partner were. You met Alastor during prohibition. You weren’t the headline performer at the speakeasy he liked to frequent. You were attractive but other girls there were more stunning.
What caught his attention was the passion in your voice. You were deep and sultry as New Orlean’s summer nights. Your notes slipped into his core as inevitable as the Big Easy’s flow. Combined with your poise and aura of untouchability, he felt drawn to you. The lean radio host had never felt a pull like this to anyone.
But he noticed other men drawn to you. But they had no appreciation for you, just your flesh and the pleasure they might take from you. So he took to following you home. At a discreet distance; he hadn’t yet introduced himself. At least a dozen times he intercepted ruffians that moved to harm you. They weren’t nearly as cautious and thorough as him.
One night Alastor had just prevented another uncouth man from approaching you and was wiping off his hands when he heard your voice. Not how he normally did, trained and melodic. No this was harsh, panicked. Fuck! Another one?! There really was no end to the lowlifes.
You had screeched at your assailant, “Get your hands OFF ME!” You were shrill enough to make him wince, but only for a second. He was stronger and just gave you a dark grin with more teeth missing than not. “Let’s have some fun babycakes.” He started dragging you to an alley.
You managed to stomp on his foot with your heel. “Augh, you bitch!” He shoved you up against the brick wall. “You’re gonna pay for that,” he growled.
“I believe the lady has made her opinion clear,” came another voice in the foggy night. “Let her go.” The voice was vaguely familiar, something you heard regularly…
It distracted your assailant long enough that you could reach for your hat. It was a tad out of style but had it’s advantages. Namely, needing a nearly foot long hat pin to keep it in place. You pulled the pin out while he looked out at the other man.
“Fuck off before I kill yo-“ his words were cut off by the sharpened steel pin suddenly piercing his eye. You jammed it into his eye socket with all your strength. Maybe you could have hit what little brains he had but the other man ran up to slit the bastard’s throat.
The man gurgled desperately before falling to the ground. He twitched, blood flowing from his neck and eye. You leaned back against the wall, chest heaving.
The tall lean man seemed oddly calm. He cleaned his knife before pulling your hat pin out of the corpse’s head. Blood fountained out from the eye socket as he cleaned the gore off your pin. He turned, presenting you the slim steel by the decorative knob.
“Are you all right cher?” You took the pin back but didn’t replace it. You didn’t want any leftover gore in your hair.
“Alors pas! Give me a moment cher.” You took a few deep breaths and looked up to see a (thankfully dry) red tinged hand waiting for you. You placed your shaking one into it. The owner assisted you to your feet, guiding you away from the ever growing pool of blood.
“Quite a fright you’ve had my dear!” His crisp voice, with its transatlantic accent echoed as he escorted you away.
You shuddered slightly, realizing how bad things could have gotten. “At least it was just a fright. Thanks to you mister…?” You trailed off, still trying to place his voice.
“Alastor.”
Your eyes widened in sudden recognition. “Ah! You’re the radio host!”
“I’m flattered you remember me! I’m afraid I have you at a disadvantage. You are Y/N, correct?” Dazed, you nodded. “I’ve been enthralled by your performances for months now, I had to learn more about you cher.”
“Why thank you, I’m glad you’ve been enjoying them.” Suddenly you felt dizzy and stumbled along the path. Alastor swiftly caught you.
“I believe you’re a tad unsteady after being handled so roughly. May I?” Confused, you nodded and he immediately swept you into a bridal carry. “If you’ll permit me, I’d like to escort you home.” He paused and added, “I will need directions of course.”
The thought of a man you just met bringing you home made you flush all over. No matter how gallant he was, the radio host was a stranger. But you didn’t think your legs could support you long enough. “If…if you would please.” You glanced back at the alley. “What do we do about…”
“Hmmm,” Alastor hummed as he strolled away. He had no difficulty carrying you. “I suppose a dead man is an inconvenience but I believe getting you somewhere safe takes priority. Certainly over a lowlife’s corpse.”
It was hard to argue with that logic. You directed him to your apartment, amazed that he was able to carry you that long and with ease. Once there, you allowed him inside. Once inside with a lamp lit, you realized what a mess both were. Your coat was splattered with blood and grime. Your dress was stained wherever the coat hadn’t covered it and your hat was long gone. The hat pin in your hand was mostly clean, but you spotted some blood and gore by the finial. Your shoes weren’t worth mentioning.
Seeing the result of your ordeal made the bile rise in your throat. You barely made it to the sink before vomiting. Thankfully you hadn’t eaten before leaving work so it was just bile. You faintly heard clinking and water being poured. Alastor appeared with a glass of water for you. “Ma cher, you look like you need a wash up. If you like, I can stay in the main room or I can make my way home. I wouldn’t want you to feel unsafe.”
You found yourself asking him to stay as you cleaned up. Maybe you were being naive but he did just save you and you felt he didn’t have anything untoward in mind. When you asked about him, he merely chuckled and told you not to worry.
After you were cleaned and dressed in a nightgown and housecoat (and had added a torrent of tears to the bathwater) you emerged to find Alastor reading the newspaper in a chair. He’d made jambalaya for you both. “My mother’s recipe! So good it nearly killed her!” he quipped. Once you’d eaten you couldn’t keep your exhaustion at bay.
“You’re welcome to spend the night Alastor. I’d hate to send you home in the middle of the night.” The only problem was there was only one bed, yours.
“That is much appreciated Y/N. I can make myself comfortable in the front room for one night. I’ll leave you to rest while I clean up myself.” He pressed his lips to your knuckles and murmured “Bonne nuit, cher.”
Alastor left your sleeping form and made use of your washroom. He cleaned up methodically; it wasn’t the first time he’d had to wash up after a kill. His jacket was ruined, but at least the rest of his clothes were in decent enough shape. At least he wouldn’t scandalize anyone on the way home tomorrow.
Still, he was surprised that you had fought back as much as you had. Evidently that passion from your songs emerged elsewhere too. And the way you dispatched your attacker… he shivered at the beauty of it. The unexpected metal gleam in your hand, the furiously graceful arc as you swung and your perfect aim into the lowlife’s eye.
Alastor wasn’t much interested in pleasures of the flesh, he never had been and wasn’t still. He wanted to see more of you like that. Not scared and in need of rescue, but the hunter he recognized in your eyes.
“It seemed the songbird I’ve admired has talons.”
—————
The next morning you insisted on making breakfast; biscuits and gravy. Alastor seemed to enjoy it but he didn’t leave after eating. You thought he would need to get home before heading to the radio station. When you asked he said he was staying “just in case.”
Just before lunch there was a knock at your door. Alastor was closer so he answered it, almost like he was expecting it. Two policemen stood on the other side. “What can we help you with officers?” Alastor asked jovially.
“Is this the home of a Miss Y/N?” At your affirmative nod, the stockier of the two continued, “We’d like you to come down to the station Miss. We have some questions to ask you.”
“Ah, this must pertain to the dreadful ordeal my dear Y/N went through last night,” Alastor interjected. “Ma cher, why don’t you grab your things and I’ll accompany you.”
“And who might you be?” The lanky officer asked.
“Alastor, my good man. You may have tuned into my radio show!” He smiled thinly as the short one had a flicker of recognition. “I rendered some assistance to Y/N, so it’s probably best if I’m there as well. It would save you gentlemen a trip to my home to escort me in for questions, ha ha!”
By then you had your shoes and bag ready. “Dear you look lovely. Do you have your pin from last night, I’m sure these gentlemen will want to examine it.”
“Oh, that’s an excellent point Alastor.” You placed it in your bag, making sure the cover was on the tip.
Once at the station, you found out the trail from your attacker’s body to your apartment was fairly obvious. Some blood on the bottom of Alastor’s shoes led the way. As for what happened:
“The man accosted me on my way home. I tried to fight back, but he was ever so much stronger. It seems I was loud enough to grab Alastor’s attention. I’m so grateful he stepped in! The beast was distracted and I was able to get ahold of my hat pin. My mother always said not to leave without one and she was right! I meant to just scratch him but I’ve never had to do such a thing before; I hit his eye instead. Before I could do anything else Alastor was between us and then the ruffian was dead.”
“Indeed! I heard Y/N order the lout to release her and I ran up to assist. I had just been dealing with another lowlife who had also been following her. To think there are so many ne’er-do-wells on our streets! In any case, I dispatched the man and assisted Y/N home.” You hadn’t realized there had been another man following you. You shivered at the thought.
“And why were you in the area Mr. Alastor? Records show that neither your home or place of employment are in that area.”
Alastor’s eye twitched but his smile never faltered. “I’d had a lovely evening at the jazz club and felt a late night stroll was in order. I wasn’t even paying attention to where my feet were taking me! Perhaps it was providence guiding my way so I might save the lady’s virtue.”
“Why didn’t you report this to the police?”
“I could barely manage to walk, I was in such a state. Alastor had to carry me home; I was in no condition to report anything, officers.”
“The lady had been assaulted on her way home and forced to defend herself. I felt it would be unworthy of a gentleman to leave her alone in her time of need.”
After a barrage of questions and a thorough examination of your hatpin, Alastor’s knife and the minor injuries you had suffered while being manhandled, the officers let you both go. They would provide all the evidence to the district attorney. But it seemed unlikely that either of you would be charged. You had been defending yourself and Alastor had defended you.
The charming radio host escorted you back home. “Won’t you be late for work at this point?” His broadcast covered a good portion of the afternoon and early evening.
“Hmm, perhaps.” He patted your hand nestled into the crook of his arm. “I still feel your wellbeing is more important however, my dear.” You felt a blush warming your cheeks. “On that subject, I believe you’re due to perform again tonight?” You nodded, he really did enjoy your performances if he knew your schedule. “I believe I will go mad with worry cher, might I escort you there and back home?”
This man was insinuating himself into your life so easily. Perhaps killing a man together had that effect. “Please do Alastor. I don’t believe I will be able to go on my own after yesterday.” You had reached your apartment while talking. “Then I shall return after I complete my broadcast. Until tonight cher.” He kissed your knuckles and saw you through the door before leaving. You turned on your radio and tuned the dial to Alastor’s station. About ten minutes after his broadcast normally began you heard the crackle of his voice.
“Salutations listeners! Thank you for your patience ladies and gentlemen, I know everyone has been eagerly awaiting the show. I am Alastor, a pleasure to be sharing this time with you all.” You sighed in relief. You would have felt terrible if helping you jeopardized Alastor’s job.
You left the radio on, letting his voice fill the apartment while you took care of minor tasks. Eventually he signed off with his normal outro “Until next time dear listeners, thank you and goodnight!” You didn’t know how long it would take for him to get from his station to your apartment but you felt it best to finish getting ready.
So you were dressed for the evening when he arrived. That was the start of a new routine for you both. Alastor walked you to work and back, enjoying the illicit beverages and your voice. Sometimes he would stay the night in your front room but he mostly dropped you off before making his way home.
He was a lovely conversationalist and those walks were much more cheerful than they had been. You felt easy around him in a way that was foreign but fulfilling. Eventually your friends and coworkers at the speakeasy asked if you two were courting.
You honestly couldn’t answer. You’d never had a beau before. According to friends over the years, you had been asked out by a lot of fellows and turned them all down. Was that why none of those men talked to you again? Apparently you hadn’t realized their intentions.
One night, a couple months after the attack, you mentioned this to Alastor. “Isn’t that strange, cher? They think we’re a couple!”
He stopped dead, his lips barely keeping their ever present smile as the rest of his features went blank. “Is…is this what courtship is?” He blinked down at the hand in the crook of his arm, the high heeled feet he had shortened his stride to keep in step with, the new gleaming hat pin he’d gifted you.
“I…am not really sure. I’ve never had a beau before.” You looked up at him, seeing the lips that gently kissed your knuckles every time you parted, the dark auburn hair you would stroke when he was stressed, the patterned bow tie you had given him the same day he gave you the pin. “Although, if this is what courting is, I’m glad it’s with you Alastor.”
“Hmm…” he resumed walking, this time humming one of the songs you sang that night. Once at your place, he finally replied. “I believe I agree with you my dear. Since we are a couple it seems, I’m glad it’s with you, Y/N.” He not only gave your hand a kiss, but leaned down to kiss your cheek as well. “I suppose you can tell your friends tomorrow they were correct. Bonne nuit, ma cher.”
Roughly a month later, Alastor was spending the night in your apartment when you felt the need to ask a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind. “Alastor, cher,” you sat next to him, pulling his attention from the book he was reading. “Had…have you killed other people before that night?”
He froze, which really was all the answer you needed. “Are you still?”
For a man so glib, it took him a moment to find his silver tongue. “And if I am?” He choked out. “What will you do, Y/N?”
You studied him, making sure not to move and not to touch him. “I would ask what sort of people they are. And if they are of the same mold as the men who attacked me…then I’d also ask you to be careful, cher.”
He relaxed slightly. “Unfortunately there are a great many like-minded men in the world, although a few less in this city in the past few years.” He paused. “I can’t help myself dear. I see them acting as they do and feel the need to remove them from this life.”
Gently, you placed a hand over his. “I can hardly blame you for that. Especially after you saved me.” Your other hand turned his head to look into your eyes. “Your secret is safe with me, Alastor.”
The man was usually so composed; it was kind of cute to see him so surprised. He then cupped your cheek and lightly kissed your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned into the kiss.
It was one kiss and it didn’t last long. Pulling back from each other, he licked his lips while you pressed your fingertips to yours. “That was quite nice.” Despite singing so many songs about love, you had never been eager to try out all the steps of romance.
“Indeed it was. Shall we add that to our list of favorable courting actions?” You smiled and pulled out a paper, a fourth of the way filled with a list. You added “kisses on lips” to it.
Before too long, you were helping him with his activities. Initially you assisted in the clean up, but then you started taking part in the kills. Alastor admired your channeled fury and impeccable aim. You admired his precision and calculated execution. The two of you had to be sparing with your activities however. You didn’t want to draw suspicion. The kills were never closer than a week from each other.
Roughly a year after you met Alastor, the subject of marriage came up. It was while you two were disposing of another uncouth man; he made the mistake of trying to get you away from your beau and received knife stabs from both of you. You no longer had to rely solely on your hat pin; you had a stiletto blade of similar size now. Alastor finished covering the body in dirt; he refused to let you help with digging at all. Instead you kept an eye out as he did.
You provided him with a cloth to clean off the dirt. “Merci, ma cher.” Once he was ready you put it back into your bag and linked arms with him. As you walked together, satisfied, he asked, “Y/N, shall we get married?”
The question caught you off guard and you stumbled forward. Just like that first night, he caught you smoothly and lifted you into his arms. “ Alastor, darling, where is this coming from?”
“Some at the radio station inquired as to our relationship. I was informed that a successful courtship as ours generally results in a marriage.” He hummed as he carried you. “After some thought, I realized the prospect of wedding you is…very appealing.”
You nestled into his embrace. “I haven’t given it any thought. It would make life simpler, you wouldn’t have to dash around between our homes and work.” You mulled it over. You would like seeing him every morning instead of on occasion. The thought of your dresses next to his suits in the wardrobe, helping each other clean up after a kill, relaxing quietly on the couch while you both read… “Yes. Let’s get married Alastor. I’d like that.”
He smiled down at you, looking oddly tender considering what the two of you had been doing just half an hour ago. He leaned down to kiss you softly. “Let’s get you home and we’ll work out all the details tomorrow, my dear.”
Initially the two of you planned something simple. But once both your and his coworkers got wind of the nuptials, they insisted on a grand party. Apparently they all felt the two of you were adorably hopeless. Neither of you had realized how invested those around you were in your relationship. You and Alastor concluded that resisting your friends well-wishes was as pointless as resisting a hurricane.
So while the ceremony was a small affair, the party after was held at your club and lasted deep into the night. The proprietors had managed to get a bottle of champagne for you and Alastor. Despite it being your wedding reception, you couldn’t help performing one of Alastor’s favorite songs. He then kept you on the dance floor the majority of the evening. He danced as well as he talked. It was a good thing you’d had over a year as his primary dance partner.
You heard some ribald jokes about his stamina. At least that’s what they sounded like. You still couldn’t tell. Not that it mattered much to either of you. All you cared about was your husband was having a great time, out dancing everyone in the building. Once it was time to leave, he carried you into a cab, then carried you into his home.
Despite what the guests had suggested, he was tired after all that. Frankly you were too. So once divested of all the fancy clothing, he tucked you into the bed and climbed in next to you.
For the first time since you met him, he looked nervous in the faint starlight. Of course. This was so far beyond both of your experiences. You probably looked the same. “Alastor? May I?” You held out your arms to him. He gave you a nod and you embraced him, slowly nestling your body against his. “Let me know if it’s too much, cher,” you murmured as he wrapped his arms around you.
He started to relax with you. His breathing matched yours, your heartbeat synchronized with his. You felt his arms growing heavy, their grip softening. Alastor nuzzled your hair and kissed the crown of your head. “Thank you for marrying me, Y/N.”
You smiled. “Thank you as well Alastor,” you replied before drifting off to sleep.
The two of you did have sex eventually. The first time was a few weeks after the wedding. You were both back to work after a brief honeymoon; when you got back the other singers, the band, even the bartender were all curious about your bedroom activities. They surrounded you while Alastor was conversing with another patron. When all you talked about was how nice falling asleep with him was and the cute sight of him sleeping as the sun rose, they stared at you slack jawed.
Your coworkers consulted amongst themselves. You heard snippets of “do we need to explain this too, did no one tell them about that, they’re both such lookers too, I don’t wanna tell her, you do it, no you, I ain’t gonna tell her.”
After some discussion it seems Mimzy, another singer was appointed to talk to you. “Y/N, sweetie, doll, did your mama ever tell you about the birds and the bees?” She guided you to the bar and requested drinks for you both.
“Mimzy! I do know about sex. Gracious, I’m aware of adult urges and where babies come from.” You threw back your drink. The curvy blonde breathed a sigh of relief; at least she didn’t need to go over the basics.
“That is usually what a honeymoon is for dearie.” Mimzy tossed back her own drink. “Look cutie, what you and your mister do at home is your business, but your friends don’t want you missing out! You two are good together; I’ve never seen either of ya this happy before.” She downed another drink before hopping over to the stage.
Alastor came up to your side. “Looks like your friends are all in a tizzy dear.” You smiled up at him. “Did you have a strange conversation with your colleagues today too?”
“Ah yes,” he leaned on his new cane, a wedding gift. “Concerning my bedroom prowess and your presumed enjoyment thereof.” You couldn’t help but laugh huskily. “The station manager even told me to ‘remember my duties as a husband.’”
You gave him a peck on the cheek. “I believe you’re going above and beyond your duties cher.” He kissed your hand and held it while the two of you listened to Mimzy’s set. “I’d best get up there darling.” You gave his hand a squeeze before going to take the stage.
You sang a mix of familiar tunes and a couple new ones you’d picked up on the honeymoon. To finish the performance, you sang the same number from your wedding night, which you had come to think of as Alastor’s song. Many of the patrons were familiar with the two of you, so listening to you sing to your husband made a number of them go misty eyed.
Once back at home, Alastor cleared his throat while unbuttoning his shirt. “Do you want to, cher?”
You continued to remove your jewelry. “Perhaps one day.” You applied cold cream to remove your makeup. “And you cher? Do you want to?” You asked back as you wiped your face clean.
He was putting up his suit, more intent on making sure it lined up on the hanger than usual. “Perhaps one day,” he echoed. He stopped fiddling with the suit and stood there in his underclothes. Alastor’s ever present smile was still there but his eyes looked lost.
You finished your nightly routine and went to him, asking gently before taking both his hands in yours. “Ma cher, when have we ever been a normal couple? We already have almost a full page of physical affections we enjoy. If we want to see if sex will be on that list one day we can. But not unless we both want to try it.” His smile became more genuine and he pressed both of your hands to his lips. “Thank you my dear.”
You gave him a playful look and started humming the opening bars to his song. Alastor gave you a quizzical look back as you started singing it. Before the first verse was over you pulled him into an impromptu dance. In the privacy of your bedroom, you and your husband danced into the night to your voice. To your delight, he joined you in duets and sang a solo for you as you slow danced together.
“Ah, my sweet songbird. I am glad I married you.”
“I’ve never really seen myself as a songbird before. If anything…” your eye caught sight of your hat pins on your vanity, “more of a shrike.” He looked at you in surprise. “A butcher-bird,” you clarified.
“No no, I’m aware. I never thought of that comparison for you. It fits though, they’re pretty little killers that impale their victims.”
“I’m glad you agree darling. Now, we should get some rest.” You put out the light and pulled him into bed. There was a bit of hesitation on his part as he laid down. But he was soon settling into what was becoming your normal sleeping positions: you nestled against his side with his arms around you.
A few days after that, he asked if you’d like to give sex a try that night. You didn’t have any problems with the idea so almost a month after your wedding the two of you tried it.
Of course you were both terribly awkward; Alastor pulled your hair more than once and you elbowed him in the neck. But the two of you managed it. Multiple times that night in fact. Evidently that was what those stamina comments were about. Afterward, as he held you close Alastor mused. “Hmmm, that was rather enjoyable. I still don’t understand everyone’s fascination but I’m not opposed to the occasional romp as they say. What did you think darling?”
You thought back. “Once we figured things out it was fun. I agree though, I don’t understand why everyone is so obsessed about it. It’s rather messy in the end. And I think we can add it to our list, as an occasional activity.”
He chuckled. “You can add it tomorrow.”
The next day, you joined the other singers chatting before the sets started. One of them was gushing over her new beau and you realized this was a great opportunity to let them know. “Alastor and I had sex last night,” you stated, cheerful and straightforward. Again with the slack jawed looks. “Multiple times actually. I’m glad I’m in such good shape, it was more exertion than I expected.”
After a beat one of the girls asked “Well? How was it?”
“Hm? Oh! It was fun. My legs are pretty tired so I don’t think I’ll be dancing much tonight though. Alastor enjoyed it too, so we decided to do it again someday.” You heard the band warming up. “I’m up first tonight, best get up there.”
As you left the group they started talking rapidly to each other. “Do you think they actually did? Don’t see why not, they are the strangest couple I’ve ever met, at least they’re strange together, I thought for sure one of them would be more excited about doing it…”
Your lives settled into a comfortable routine together. You both continued with your jobs; his broadcast was quite popular and as you increased your skill and song repertoire, you became more successful in the nightlife scene. He accompanied you everywhere which was exactly how you liked it. Every so often the two of you would kill a ne’er-do-well or three. Occasionally you had intercourse. You often danced together, both at the club and at home.
This continued for a number of years. By now almost everyone around you was used to the idiosyncrasies in your marriage and just didn’t question it.
One night in late summer the pair of you were in the woods, hiding the latest kill. As you kept watch in the humid air, Alastor was dumping dirt over the corpse. “Are you sure you don’t need help cher?”
He grunted while lifting more dirt. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I made my darling wife fill a hole like this?” You could only shake your head in amusement. You shifted your feet but lost your footing in the process. Both legs swept out beneath you and you landed firmly on your rear. You did your best not to cry out in case your voice carried.
“Cher!” Alastor dropped the shovel to help you up. “Are you alright Y/N?” You nodded as you grabbed his outstretched hand. “Just slipped, I’ll be fine Alastor.”
You looked up at your husband and noticed that the branches of the nearby trees gave him the illusion of antlers. You were about to mention it when the sharp crack of a rifle rang out and suddenly his forehead blossomed into a spray of blood and brain matter. “ALASTOR!” His name ripped from your throat. He couldn’t hear it though; his smile was wiped away as his body dropped to the ground.
“Aw shit! I thought he was a deer!” The man who killed your husband yelled out, realizing what he’d done. You screeched and ran in the direction of the voice, pulling your hat pin out as you did so. The hunter wasn’t far. You leapt at him, screaming and crying. He was bigger than you but he wasn’t expecting a furious murderess to launch herself at him at full speed. He fell to the ground with you straddling his chest and you plunged the hat pin, the one Alastor gave you for your last anniversary, into the man’s eyes and throat. Over and over you shoved the steel into his face. The blood spray and viscera didn’t scare you anymore.
You faintly heard, “Jesus Mary and Joseph crazy bitch!” through your own screaming. You whirled in that direction to see the second hunter aiming his own rifle at you. You started to move toward him when you felt an intense pain at your brow, followed by nothingness.
—————
Part 2
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin fanfic#alastor x reader#alastor#fluff#acespec#ace representation#asexual
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you know. louis always choosing lestat, louis actually being genuinely incapable of fully choosing someone else over him, or letting him go, is why i think they have to be together but it’s also crazy because, as much of it IS an actual deep love from louis and it is a romance that’s like a cockroach in a nuclear war, it’s not actually out of love. or just love. like so much of louis’ attachment to lestat is an Attachment and not a love (even tho the love is there!!). lestat was there for him after a hugely fucked up time in his life (not even there to help through it necessarily just like. physically there.) lestat was his first, which to louis de repressed du catholic guilt is a big fucking deal, not just his first time or his first relationship with a man, but it’s his first actual acknowledgment and surrender to his sexuality. not to mention being with lestat means he burnt every other bridge he had, he’s isolated from friends and family and society and even when he tried to build a new one (claudia), he ended up burning that one too so that all that’s left is always lestat. but the crazy thing. the craaaaaaaziest thing. is that lestat didn’t even. do this on purpose. lestat is a bitch and liar and a monster and a manipulator but unfortunately!!!! he did not mastermind getting louis under these specific circumstances to keep him bound to him forever this bitch l i t e r a l l y. just got lucky. lestat didn’t kill paul and he didn’t force louis to stop talking to his family (negotiable but. still.) and he didn’t even ask louis not to kill him in fact. i bet he really truly thought louis would do it, that louis could do it, that he’d kill him. because even he doesn’t know the power he has over louis. the same way claudia didn’t. it’s literally only louis who knows just how fucking fucked he is with his attachment to lestat and he carries that shit around like an addict who hid a last bottle of pills in his drywall before he got clean. like he knows he’s gonna choose lestat. he’s with armand and he knows this. he’s shit talking that man to daniel 12 hours a day knowing this. its fucking insane because he knows and WE KNOW. WE FUCKING KNOW. THAT. if lestat ever walks into the fucking room. its fucking over. louis’ gonna walk out that room with him. he’s gonna punch a fucking hole in his wall and rummage through the broken drywall and grab that bottle and pop a fucking pill. go to fucking therapy mon cher. a THOUSAND sessions of emdr mon CHER.
#being a louis girl is sometimes ‘babygirl im sorry the mental illness is winning :(‘#and sometimes it’s ‘we’re all mentally ill bitch. get up.’#interview with the vampire#louis de pointe du lac#tagging him specifically because i am calling him out Specifically#amc iwtv#m#dont ask me what brought this on i couldn’t tell you
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notes on "mr. snarl"
hello, hello, hello welcome to the mr. snarl is high camp discourse. i've been readin' and thinkin' and drivin' myself nuts over this, so i'll be blabberin' on for a good minute. bear with me.
before we dive into any discussion of camp, we ofcourse need to understand what camp is in the first place. camp as an idea is nearly impossible to neatly put down in a few words or a sentence. it has no definition as of such. camp is loud. camp is ostentatious. camp is exaggerated. camp is 'too much'. camp is gay. camp is ironic. camp is cheeky. drag is camp. marlene dietrich is camp. baroque art is camp. cher is camp. mommie dearest (1981) is camp. the rocky horror picture show (1975) is camp. dostoevsky is camp.
the girlies who get camp get it, those who don't, don't.
however we do have susan sontag's 1964 seminal essay 'notes on "camp"' from where most of our contemporary ideas and understanding of 'camp' comes from. in her essay, sontag noted 58 points on what camp is or might be. for our purposes in this post, we'll go by those. because it is the camp bible of course. and i am a pretentious bitch.
now before we get to the meat of the matter, a quick detour to discuss the many faces of alex turner.
alex's personas have now come to as closely associated to his image as an artist and public figure as blonde wigs are with dolly parton, i suppose. it even has its own section in alex's wiki page. he is one those performers to whom the "eras" concept can truly and perfectly apply. he is a different man on stage with every new album, each 'era' is unique from the other and distinctly defined. a new 'era' for alex is not only a change of a haircut or a new pallette, it is a total revamping of his mannerisms and performance style and public image. be it mr. schwarz (the car era), mark (tbhc era) or oliver tate sr. (early sias era), each one of his personas is another way in which he represents the themes of that album. understanding a persona is integral to understanding the album.
and alex admits to as such. each Performer is a fractured reflection of his own self, and of the album.
but. but. i do not think that he has always made use of the Performer, or atleast, tried to make perceivable distinctions between them. in the first three-four years of his career- during WPSIATWIN and FWN, he presented as just Some Guy. just another normal bloke from sheffield. which, you could argue, was the persona that fit the context of those albums, but i would say that he was probably not putting that much thought into it at the time. it isn't until TAOTU that we see alex using his on-stage fashion to project a certain kind of image that ties in with the music he's playing. (do i think it's miles' handiwork? yes.). the lil suits and ties and beatles-mop cuts, y'know.
the first distinct Performer appears during the Humbug era. the soft-spoken, brooding, fawn-mannered poet who is probably hiding a bagful of secrets and hang-ups behind those layers of brown curls- let's call her him aly. then we have the bright-eyed, puppy-smiled, deep-voiced loverboy of the early SIAS era. i propose to call him oliver tate sr. (after the guy from submarine (2010) obviously). then mr. snarl- we'll get to him later. the loud and theatrical and slutty and deliciously gay EYCTE era persona. then the melancholic space poet mark of TBH&C and finally the suave auteur of The Car- mr. schwarz.
mr. snarl is the one who has garnered the most fascination and endured the most in popular imagination. dare i say, AM-era alex turner is a lowkey late 2010s pop culture icon. it is very easy to understand why- the quiff, the leather jackets, the perpetual sunglasses, the biker boots, the LA drawl tinging his sheffield accent, the devil-may-care wantoness. the girlies on tiktok and pinterest aren't obsessed with him for nothing.
so, what makes mr. snarl camp? what am i yapping on about?
let's get back to sontag.
camp is artificial. camp is ironic. mr. snarl is too. he is a character. he is a mask. *cue the bourne identity and body paint*. 'artificial' does not imply fake or dishonest. we should be careful not to be quick in putting any value judgement onto this artificiality- the aritifice is a quality of camp. you can't appreciate camp, if you snigger at the artificial.
2. camp is character. mr. snarl is a character if there ever was one. extremely defined, visually and behaviourally- you see a performance and can immediately recognise the moment mr. snarl is peeking through. he is also very intensely one thing- very intensely masculine, very intensely rockabilly, very intensely rock god. he is 'instant character' as sontag puts it, which is why perhaps he so immediately and so firmly gripped our collective imagination.
3. camp is exaggerated. camp is style. do i even need to elaborate on this? Ben Beaumont-Thomas of The Guardian said it much better than i could- alex ironically "played with the role" of being a rockstar but simultaneously "can't help but be a real rock star." so, to put it in sontagian terms, he is not a rockstar but a "rock star"
the 2014 brit awards speech is the peak of this ironic, exaggerated performance i think. (i'm still waiting for someone to do a drag performance based on it).
4. but to me, what makes mr. snarl camp is his performance of gender. now let's get one thing clear- camp is not effeminate or queer behaviour. it is the "spirit of extravagance", so any kind of extravagant and ironic presentation of gender can be under the purview of camp.
this performance of gender is not the david bowie or marc bolan or brian molko kind, no. this performance of gender is much subtle, much more nuanced- he wasn't playing around with rigid definitions of gender or crossing gender lines. he wasn't trying to say something with it necessarily. i doubt even, if it was a purposeful thing that he was thinking of back then.
but mr. snarl is a performance of gender. it is a performance of masculinity. and the thing that makes it so very interesting is that it was a cis, straight man doing it.
[if y'all are interested, another interesting example is dolly parton + her persona + her performance of exaggerated femininity. for more on that i'll point you towards be kind rewind's video essay on her.]
mr. snarl was an image of a very certain kind of masculinity. 1950s, elvis presley, rockabilly, greasers, james dean- these are some of the pop culture touchstones that come to mind when we think of mr. snarl. he is also decidedly american. a "fictional character from america" as alex later put it. was this whole persona thing an effort to conquer america then? perhaps...but eh. there is no way i can conclusively say that. it certainly helped that cause. AM the album was very us-american in essence-- it drew from hiphop and r&b after all. the soundscape of the arctic monkeys was very much rooted in its northern british indie roots, and AM was the first one that was clearly not. and mr. snarl was just a visual reflection of that. [for more on how the arctic monkeys conquered the us]
mr. snarl was a certain kind of masculine in a way alex turner personas haven't been previously or since. he has always presented as conventionally masculine. even the humbug persona- him being my girlfriend notwithstanding- is not much different from the aesthetics of say, ray davies or mick jagger or george harrison back in the 60s and 70s. the slightly effeminate dramaticism of eycte is not exactly gender-bending as such.
but mr. snarl was hypermasculine. masculinity has had an interesting place in his lyrics up until they- they are both critical ('brianstorm' 'a certain romance') and fascinated ('jeweller's hand' 'catapult') of more aggressive masculine characteristics. (he does use a lot of very sexual but not necessarily erotic language to describe said masculinity- but that's another can of worms.) mr. snarl was in a way, alex being those characters from those songs he was writing about. mr. snarl also very aggressively straight. straight with a capital s. his songs in AM still had the self-abasing and submissive undertones to the narrator that love songs from humbug and sias, but much toned down. he was out there shouting out his girlfriend on stage. and who can forget the "ladiessssssss!" moment. he had models hanging off him in photoshoots.
you probably saw these photos and thought- "what the fuck?!" with a cackle. that is exactly what makes mr. snarl camp. the irony, the ridiculousness of it all.
5. i don't think alex was trying to be or do camp. camp is best when it is not intentional. i can even confidently wager alex would not take it as a compliment if i showed him this essay. a lot of very "serious" people look down upon camp as something lowbrow and tacky and unserious. but it isn't. i would go ahead and classify mr. snarl under naive camp- he is trying to be straightlaced and serious, but failing grandly, which makes it deliciously camp.
so. mr. snarl was an exaggerated representation of masculinity. in a sense, mr. snarl was basically drag. alex turner being "Alex Turner".
#alex turner#arctic monkeys#the last shadow puppets#camp#susan sontag#i spent wayyyy to much time on this#journal of alex turner studies
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Drunk Confessions—Part 2 Final
Part 1
Human Alastor x Male Reader
Warnings: Fluff//Suggestive Language//Romantic Relationship//FEMALES DNI
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His smile faltered as the words were running through his head. I love you. Did you actually, or was it just a hoax? Could it possibly be that you were drunk, maybes. Only you would know until you spill it to him. Alastor had his eyes stuck to you. Breathing was shallow as his mind couldn’t leave the topic until you told the truth.
A friend from childhood
There’s no way that you could possibly love someone like him. The thoughts that were racing in him head made him want to cry. Want him to drop his smile, his gentleman act so he can cry. ‘Why do I feel like this?!’
He doesn’t want to reject him because as much as it’s wrong, he has feeling for him too. Shoved deep into his mouth, down his throat and out his ass, but there still feelings. Feelings that he didn’t know how to act upon because he’s not used to it. Alastor’s smile rose up again before he admitted to laughter.
It’s a joke.
He was a radio host and he knows jokes when he sees one. Yet if this was a joke then..he still couldn’t tell. ‘Why are emotions so hard?!’ He told himself as he tried to control his laughter. Alastor began to shake at the thought before someone barged into the booze cellar.
Alastor’s eyes went up to the person who had walked in very rudely. Then again, this isn’t the exact place that one should be in. “Well if it isn’t the fucking radio bitch.” Husk smiled at Alastor. He heard in in some of the convo between the two of you, until you passed out of course.
“He..” Alastor tried to talk but words weren’t forming correctly. “I know, I heard it. Now get the fuck out.” Husk grumbled as he shooed Alastor. Husk went down and picked up your limp figure, the smell of booze reeked on you.
“Here, take ‘em.” He put you in Alastor’s arms. Walking off to go back to whatever he was doing before getting distracted with listening in. Alastor looked around for a place he can set you while the place died down. Finding a nice seating area, Alastor, gently, placed you in the booth so you were comfortable until you awoke from the influenced state.
Alastor ordered a few drinks here and there as he waited for Mimzy and Husk to be done so they all could walk together. A water waiting for you until you woke up. Your sleeping figure still on the comforted bench. The place had died down some more, only five people being there to help clean up the mess.
A yawn left your mouth as your eyes drifted to the water in front of you then to Alastor, who was looking somewhere else. A slight pang in your head as you could barely remember anything you did that night or in the cellar.
With a slight movement to grab the water, Alastor’s eyes shot towards you. Seeing that you were now awake he moved closer to you. Not wanting to bring up and of the events of what happened not to long ago. “Are you alright Cher?” His eyes soft along with his voice.
You nodded slowly and rubbed your eyes, grabbing the water that still had the ice cubs in it. Taking a long drink Alastor asked. “Do you remember anything that happened?” He looked away as almost he was embarrassed from the subject.
You couldn’t tell he was sweating. He was hiding it to well. “Surprisingly..I do.” You placed the glass down with a small ‘clink.’ Alastor tried to hold in a choke, swallowing it and asking another question. “Was it true, dear?”
This time you looked away. “Yes.” You mumbled out. “I’ve been holding in those feeling for a while. I don’t exactly know what came over me but when I was under the influence I lost my own fight and ended up telling you.” You sighed, “I’m sorry if I made things uncomfortable.”
The room went silent. It was as if no one was there but you and Alastor. The air was thick as no one said a word. That’s when Alastor spoke. “Its quite alright dear. If I’m being honest with myself..I feel the same way.” He slowly looked over to you, you doing the same and both locking eyes with each other.
You swallowed a lump in your throat and chuckled. “Really?” He took his glasses off and cleaned them. “I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t mean it love.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled again, not realizing what he called you until he kissed your forehead.
A small yawn left your throat as he pulled away. “Tired Cher.” You hummed. “Let us go then.” He started getting up from the booth you were sat at. Once he stood up he held out his hand for you to take. Grabbing it thankfully you stood up and started heading out.
Mimzy stopped you guys on the way out and thanked you for stopping by for a while. “I hope ya’ll get some nice rest.” She said sweetly. “We will. Thank you for the splendid time tonight!” Alastor chuckled out. “Alright well bye now!”
It was a silent night once you left the speakeasy. Crickets chirping while the sound of your shoes walking along the sidewalk. You looked to your right to look at Alastor. Not believing that your little drunk confession worked. Even if you guys didn’t start dating, you were just happy you shared your feeling with him. Drunk or not.
-
Alastor thought it would just be easier if he took you back to his lovely cabin in the woods. The one where he was born and raised in until he was able to own it himself. It was quite a beautiful one too. A lovely exterior and interior, made all from wood.
When Alastor opened the door he gently set you down on the couch, moving back tot he door so he could close it. Not wanting to get any unwanted visitors.
He went back to you. Helping you get settled in for the night. “I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight dear.” He asked as he helped you take your coat off. “Mm..I did Al. I did.” You hummed out tiredly.
After another second your coat came off easily. Alastor went to hand it up o the coat rack, when he came back you pressed a small kiss into his lips. It was loving and with a hint of passion to. When you separated you placed your head on his chest.
“I love you. You don’t have to say anything back. I just wanted to let you know.” You wrapped your arms around his neck in a loving manner as he just stood there like a lost puppy. He was so confused on what to do next that he just let a small chuckle out and completely gave up life.
The rest of the night was a blur. He woke up with you in the couch. Your head on his shoulder and a blanket on your side. Alastor’s back hurt a bit when standing but that’s natural for sleeping in the couch, especially in that position.
He got up to go to the kitchen. The sun was barely over the horizon which meant it was able to make some breakfast. Especially with a night like last night. Upon leaving the living room he looked over his shoulder. His usual, wide grin, turned into a small, genuine smirk.
“I love you too, m/n.” He muttered out, ‘More than you know..’ He whispered to himself, finally going into the kitchen.
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SORRY THAT THE END IS RUSHED!! I just wanted to get a part 2 out. Now I don’t know if this is going to be the finish but I want to take a break from this mini series and work on some requests that I’ve gotten not to long ago. Again, sorry this is rushed. I just want to work on requests though.
#hazbin hotel#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin x reader#x male reader#character x you#male reader#gay reader#alastor x male reader#alastor x you#human alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor
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Nicki Minaj’s The Pinkprint Era (+No Frauds)
#PrettyHeiressDiaries: Eras Edition 🎀
this is my first #PrettyHeiressDiaries post. as i’ve previously stated, this series is going to be me diving into my fav muses and celebs and dissecting what i can take from these lovely ladies. this blog will focus on Nicki Minaj’s branding from 2014-2017 roughly. + a few Queen era looks.
The Pinkprint Era Style Elements:
the pinkprint was alter ego free, and a return to hiphop and r&b for nicki. meaning she was highly stripped of the campy pop rap star we had come to know. it was chic DOWN. think collector barbie vs the harajuku barbie. don’t mistake me though, onika was still very in touch with her cutesy girly side. there was a balance of sexy and chic with a few drops of cute. and this is why the pinkprint era is my absolute favorite, with her looks being a standard i follow for a lot of my looks.
nicki’s cute mirrors 🎀
nicki’s iconic black barbie insta selfies, wearing real hair or natural extensions(often textured ponytails and blowouts), minimal makeup and natural beats 🎀
lots of black and neutrals, statement purses (often times chanel) 🎀
nicki makes a return to the harajuku barbie aesthetic during the pinkprint tour 🎀 +
prissy pink looks i loved from this era 🎀
No Frauds Era Style Elements:
after the pinkprint era was dying down and nicki had become the victim of “the nicki hate train,” her style was still reminiscent of pinkprint. but i would say her branding shifted from the demure somewhat sweetheart to more of an unapologetically bad bitch. this is marked as the “no frauds era” (the time between pinkprint and queen)
glamorous gowns, grandiose blingy bodysuits and adornments, continuing from the pinkprint aesthetic, she’s still wearing natural glams and hairstyles 🎀 +
latex catsuits, lacey looks, pink as seen in the paper magazine cover and the motorsport video 🎀
literally queen couture (tiaras, headpieces, and maximalist furs), the subtle return of the barbie chain, 40 inch “you b*tches can’t even spell prague” naomi/cher hair 🎀
My Fav Queen Era Looks:
ex. tusa videoshoot, harpers bazaar vietnam cover, 2018 vma look, chun li cover art look, 2018 harpers bazaar look 🎀
So What Can We Learn?
Nicki’s style has never been anything short of ultra femme and makes it clear she’s not afraid to take up space and your attention.
As her branding and look shifts through these eras, it’s as if she’s becoming more aggressive with the her fashion to speak to the public.
During The Pinkprint Era, she said “Look, I can put the pink wigs and rainbow paint away and still capture attention while making quality work. Respect me.”
The No Frauds Era saw her evolve into a more flashy Nicki while taking hints of her past looks to say “I AM the greatest, you will NEVER top me, and I can remind you who I am.” Note the Barbie chain while also dressing like modern day royalty.
Nicki Minaj is a highly polarizing figure in pop culture but that should not stop us from acknowledging the cultural resets she’s delivered us in the fashion and beauty industry. When she said “I got all these girls wantin’ to be Barbie Dollz,” it wasn’t just a line, ITS TRUE. So many influential girls on instagram look like either Nicki, Kim K, or Madison Beer, just to name a few. The girls have taken a heavy note from the colored hair, bussdown middle part inches, bulky chains, all while trying to maintain an untouchable level of HYPERFEMININITY. An actual BLACK BARBIE.
-PrettyHeiressDiaries 🎀
credits: nathyyy and blessing mukosha via youtube, @thevirgodoll and @babyphat05’s breakdowns on femmes in the culture on the respective personal blogs.
#prettyheiressdiaries#nicki#my posts#some looks are places in a different time period purely for aesthetic reasons
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so wrong yet so right part 2
contains~ strong language, fight during lecture, punishment , dirty talk , slight touching.
y/n pov-
I woke up this morning exhausted i've been working on this god damn story for class the entire weekend . I couldn't figure out a feeling to portray in my writing , Saturday I spent sitting in my bed thinking about Professor sturniolo then I went out with friends got shit face drunk to try and distract myself from my thoughts then woke up on Sunday with a pounding head ache and spent most of my day rotting in bed . Sunday night it finally clicked what feeling to portray would be and that was confusion. Confusion with the way i'm feeling about my professor . Given I couldn't write my story about my thoughts about him because we're sharing these ones with the class too .
I grabbed all my shit for class and made my 8 minute drive to campus blasting desire by meg Myers.
After parking I made my way into the building and into the lecture hall. Walking into the quiet room joining the other early students deciding to sit closer to the front not because really want to but I feel its best after my conversation with professor sturniolo last week .
I sit down in the fifth row and take out my computer and the printed pages to my story for today .
As i'm reading something a friend texted me the rest of the students enter the lecture hall and take their seats and professor sturniolo comes in ... my jaw almost drops . He's wearing a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up showing off the tattoos he has on one arm and the veins that run from his large hands to his elbows the top two buttons open showing his chain . His black pants fitting perfectly around his slim waist and his black shoes looking clean and sleek ... but the rings I notice on his fingers make me think things I shouldn't .
I follow his every move with my eyes as he walks to the front of the class to his desk setting his bad down and looking up at all of us seated around the room.
Good evening everyone I hope you all had a good weekend . Lets get started with the rest of the story left from last class and then well move onto the story you've all written over the weekend.
he looks at me with a hard stare that has my breathe catching . I maintain eye contact until he breaks it to call up the first student to read their story.
after about 45 minutes we finish the stories that were left from last week and I take a quick break for the restroom then come back in as one of the students is reading their story , His feeling was jealousy .
Not gonna lie from what I heard of his story it was about an ex girlfriend who has a new boyfriend I couldn't help but laugh when his voice broke as he said something along the lines of " remember all the things you and I did first" all I couldn't hear in my head was want you back by Cher loyd .
his eyes snapped up to me and I froze in my seat .
are you laughing at my story he asks as he angrily looks at me
I guess I didn't laugh under my breathe like I thought I did .
yeah sorry ... I mean where did you get these line Cher loyd I say as I look at him with a smile on my face .
girls behind me laughed knowing what im talking about .
your a fucking bitch you think your better than me
I gasp making him think I was offended by his words before a smirk appeared on my face .
no I just think its embarrassing you wrote a dramatic fucking story about an ex girlfriend who has obviously moves on from you
he throws his papers on the ground storming up to where i'm seated but before he can reach me professor sturniolo interrupts .
James your excused from the rest of class you need to calm down... he snaps his eyes to me and my smile drops as his eyes pierce through me so harshly I feel it in my Bones . And ms y/l/n I don't know what has gotten into you today but you'll be staying after class to talk am I understood ?.
I roll my eyes and nod my head .
I asked you a question ms y/l/n he says making me look back up at him .
I narrow my eyes before answering him.
yes sir
good and since you want to shit on other peoples story how about we hear yours I obviously upset him with my outburst which in hind site I probably shouldn't have said that to James but i'm not sorry about it .
sure I say with an attitude as I garb my story and step up in front of the class and stand at the podium getting my pages situated .
whenever your ready he says making me sigh before I start reading
I stand In the garden as my mind runs wild with the memories of my interactions with mr braves earlier this evening. The breeze is blowing through the tress that surround me as the sweet smell of summer rain invades my nose. I cant get the feeling of his hand on my shoulder out of my head . His touch felt like lava burning through my skin touching my soul . His words like honey as he calls me things that he shouldn't , things that make me feel what others would deem immoral in society . The way mr braves is older than me should throw me off but it only makes my attraction to him stronger , I could go for any guy my age wether its at the bars Saturday night or in the coffee shop but ... the only man that occupies my mind is mr braves. Ive tried everything I can to get him out of my mind but my methods only seem to make it worse . As these weeks have gone by the connection has grown stronger , I tried distancing myself from spaces I know he occupies on a regular bases like this garden i'm standing in right now but I just cant seem to stay away for too long . I see the way he looks at me when I sit only a few feet away from him and I know he is feeling the same but we both know this relationship can never be . So why do I want him so bad , why does he invade my every thought .The rain starts pouring down on me as I tilt my head back to let the rain fall upon my face as I wish it would just wash away my sinful thoughts and feeling for this man I know I cant have but all i'm left with on my run home is confusion .
I finish reading as I look up at the other students in the class who seem to have been interested in my story as the nod at me . I look over to Professor Sturniolo as he looks at me with a expression I cant seem to place .
That was very well written y/n I could understand throughout the whole story that your feeling was confusion . Your vocabulary you used throughout set the scene of the garden and the time period it could have been set in. I think you did a great job at keeping the reader interested as well good gob
thank you I say with a small smile before grabbing my pages and sitting back down at my seat
After a couple more stories class was over and the students packed up and left leaving me and Professor Sturniolo in the room.
He leans back on his desk closing his arms over his chest as he looks at me sternly .
now would you like to explain what the fuck your little outburst was about he says tilting his head as I mirror his actions .
I don't know guess I was just feeling a little ... on edge
mmm well I thought after our last conversation you would know to behave yourself but I guess I was wrong
yeah guess so I bite back not enjoying him scolding me .
y/n ... he says as he takes a deep breathe to calm himself . fix your attitude before I fix it for you
I gulp as I try and keep my thighs from clenching not trying to show any reaction to his threat
oh yeah and how would you do that I ask which a smile seeing how much I can test him before he breaks.
he smiles and shakes his head as he looks down before he brings his eyes up to me .
trust me sweetheart you wouldn't like my methods ... now lets talk about your story a bit. Was that based off real life or did you makes it up
I look down at the ground as my face gets red .
it... I made it up
mmm okay he says as he walks over to me .
he stands in front of me and I look up at him as I swallow thickly trying to keep my composure .
he smirks down at me as he walks around the back of my chair and he places his hand on my shoulder . I sigh softly as I feel heat build in between my thighs from his touch.
he leans down and I feel his breathe on my neck and ear causing me to shiver.
does my touch feel like lava y/n he whispers in my ear causing me to let a small whimper out .
I - n-no I try and lie but my stuttering gives away my true feelings.
he chuckles before his hand slithers over my shoulder to my neck and he squeezes softly and I cant help the moan that slips out .
yeah ... I think you wrote that story thinking about me didn't you
I swallow against his hand as I shake my head but we both know he's right.
try to deny it all you want but you and I both know ... im your mr braves
I sigh expecting the fact I cant hide it.
even if your right you my presser its not right
isn't that just so upsetting he sighs as he takes his hand off me .
I drop my head looking at the desk not wanting to meet his eyes as he walks back in front of me .
now next class are you gonna be my good girl ... his hand moves to my thigh and I look up at him with widened eyes in shock of what he's doing. or are you gonna act like brat again
I- ill be good
no... I wanna hear you say you'll be my good girl he says as he squeezes my inner thigh making me whine and drop my head back .
ill be your good girl I breathe out as his hand moves dangerously close to my heat.
good girl now go home and start a new story ... maybe write it about mr.braves he says with a knowing smirk .
I sigh when his hands leaves my thigh and he makes his way back to his desk packing up his stuff .
I grab my stuff and makes my way out of the room but stop when he calls my name.
oh and y/n
yes
make sure to throw in some degrading and bondage in your next story I hear mr braves is more of the dominant type
my jaw drops as my pussy flutters . he smirks at me as he makes his way to the other door at the bottom of the room
I quickly exit as my thoughts run wild . He quite literally just referred to himself as mr braves and told me something he definitely shouldn't have but Jesus Christ does knowing that information drive me wild.
I race home and immediately got too writing my next story and after finishing my 6 page story felt with the most horny story I think i've ever written I send it to him and close my laptop.
I hop in the shower then get ready for bed when my phone rings as I got to turn off my bed side lamp .
it's an unknown number but I decide to pick it up .
hello ?
Hello ms y/l/n
its him ... how the fuck did he get my number
professor sturniolo... how did you get my number?
We have your emails and numbers on a sheet when your in our classes
oh... well what can I do for you
you can get in your car and drive to the address I just sent you
w-what are you... its 2 am right now
y/n ... you better be in your fucking car in the next 5 minutes or you'll stay after for the next 6 classes
what - why i'm in bed in my pajamas right now you think I can get ready in 5 minutes I say frantically freaking out .
I don't care what you look like all I know is that if I don't see your car pull up in the next 30 minutes I will be angry... you don't want to make me angry do you
n-no sir
good then get your ass out of bed and start driving here
then he hangs up leaving me confused and intrigued .
I know if I get in the car there will be no going back from anything that happens tonight… but I want it more than anything .
As my keys turn and the engine roars a smile breaks upon my face …
Professor sturniolo here I come
Tags-
@blahbel668 , @sturnsjtop @skyslondon
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i. i um. made a beavis and butt-head playlist.
(reasoning for each song is under the cut bc i have. a lot of thoughts.)
1. "Lullaby to Nightmares" by They Might Be Giants
(BOTH) This song is meant to encapsulate the veerryyy beginning stages of their friendship,,,like when they were gross toddlers/little kids fucking around in the summer heat of their stagnant town. only the faintest implications of them being n e thing more than friends.
2. "Adam" by Alex G
(BUTT-HEAD) Butt-head is a little pissy elementary schooler who doesn't know how to handle his weird new emotions for his friend so he just beats the shit out of him. get it together, man.
3. "Hold Me Down" by The Happy Fits
(BEAVIS) Beavis is a very unstable elementary schooler who values Butt-head's company and role in stabilizing him. he doesn't really understand much of anything at this point he just knows he likes his friend a lot.
4. "I Get A Kick Out Of You" by Frank Sinatra
(BUTT-HEAD) Man Butt-head doesn't really get why but Beav is like his only source of genuine entertainment and human connection. he's a massive loser but he's HIS massive loser and he values the time they spend together. but no he's definitely not gay its not like that.
5. "The Red Means I Love You" by Madds Buckley
(BEAVIS) Beavis loves violence and his favorite violence comes from his interactions with Butt-head. It's not inherently romantic but there's absolutely something weird going on that no one really wants to unpack right now.
6. "You're My Best Friend" by Queen
(BOTH) Quoi??? They're getting over themselves and actually appreciating the genuine friendship they have without hiding behind a thousand insults and beatdowns???? It's a miracle! Let's hope no drastic event occurs to completely throw a wrench into their life and relationsh-
7. "How Am I Supposed to Live Without You" by Michael Bolton
(BOTH) Of course I had to add this song are you kidding? Some kind of wrench has been thrown into their lives (the extent of which is dependent on the timeline) and don't know how to cope with such drastic change and the possibility of losing each other permanently.
8. "The Wheels Fell Off" by The Hoosiers
(BEAVIS) Beavis is pissed off as hell bc he can kind of get over himself emotionally but Butt-head has padlocked himself within the closet and has reverted to being a little bitch. At this point he feels like they're probably broken irreparably and has kind of given up. he's leaving.
9. "Something About Us" by Saint Motel
(BUTT-HEAD) BUT WAIT!! Butt-head realizes he will probably die without Beavis and goes to stop him from leaving and confesses and Beavis confesses back and all that. its all very sweet and gay and im happy they're finally done being incredibly stupid.
10. "I Got You Babe" by Sonny & Cher
(BOTH) YAAAAY THEYRE CORNY N IN LOVE. its cute i imagine theyre just chilling in the honeymoon phase completely unphased by the actual shock and horror the rest of highland is feeling about this new development. they're made for each other.
11. "Boyfriend" by The Hot Freaks
(BOTH) further on into da relationship n they r still going strong!!! theyve been boyfriends 4 a while n they r sickeningly sweet in their own putrid, lovely way. they really just want to be togther for the rest of their lives.
12. "No One Knows" by Stephen Sanchez and Laufey
(BOTH) both a little bit older and waaayyyy out of the honeymoon phase. they have had their fair share of problems and arguments (see: AN INSANE AMOUNT), but at the end of the day they love each other and should not split up bc imma be real no one else wants them.
13. "Love Song" by AC/DC
(BUTT-HEAD) OF COURSE I HAD TO ADD A SONG EACH FROM THEIR T SHIRT BANDS. Butt-head you corny bastard.....he is a middle aged dude in gay love and he knows Beavis is in gay love and he wants to be that way with him forEVA.
14. "Nothing Else Matters" by Metallica
(BEAVIS) Beavis's turn!!!! his aging ass is sooo happy to be with the one person as repugnant and gross and mean and interesting and funny and perfect as him and he doesn't give a single shit what other people may think of them. they're happy.
15. "Museum of Idiots" by They Might be Giants
(BOTH) They r old farts and they r still going strong. good for them!!! they've been in highland all of their lives and they have no plans of leaving ever or splitting up ever. they are going to live and die in this town and they are perfectly content with this because they have each other. this is their perfect life.
#beavis and butthead#beavis#butt-head#I AM INSANE I KNOW. DONT LOOK AT ME#DO look at my playlist though i genuinely am very happy with it#i might add songs later but this is da definitive list 4 now
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GAP the Series Ep 10 Stray Thoughts
Last time, Sam had to make things right with Mon after calling her a whore the previous episode. After reuniting, Mon took charge sexually and rearranged Sam's entire life. Kirk's secret involvement with Sam's competitor came to light, and Sam ended things with Kirk. Meanwhile, the no-dating rule has been pushed to its limits. Finally, Sam and Mon took a trip to the beach and got some direct words from an elder butch (who I love).
Yes, let's recap Cher handing them their asses. Get it together, baby gays.
I don't remember the intro song changing last week.
So glad we have slightly-older lesbians in this to give Mon perspective. I don't care if they're being used to quicky push past certain emotional hurdles; that's the whole point of having experienced friends in the community.
When Sam hung up and the grandmother turned, I half-expected a cut to one or more of Sam's friends tied up in the room.
Kirk gets no points from me for not outing Sam. Rushing to the grandmother is a lame move.
I get Sam's insecurity. She doesn't want to face her grandmother is she isn't sure Mon is all in.
FINALLY! TEE AND YUKI NATION RISE!!
Risa and Cher deserve to fuck uninterrupted. I'm gonna need Mon to read the room and come back later.
"every friend group should include a bimbo, a mean bisexual, an even meaner lesbian, she/theys and he/theys, a token straight that’s on thin ice, an astrology bitch who has everyone’s birth chart memorized, and a short king"
I need Sam and Cher to fight for real. It would be amazing.
Why are Tee and Yuki not participating in the lantern ceremony??
Look at the power lesbians have. It took Cutie Pie 14 episodes over two series to get married. It took Korn and Knock three seasons.
Tee and Yuki may not have danced together, but Tee did team up with Cher to dunk Yuki in the pool and that feels correct.
Becky looks great in not-pink.
Oh shit it's Nueng.
Oh, Nueng is kinda harsh, but I get it.
So the grandmother shows up, lists off some basic biographical information about Mon, insinuates that she's a gold digger, asks a rhetorical question, and then we cut away to the Thai old money house. "I've taken care of that girl." Did she just fridge Mon? Did she choke her out with that necklace of braided pearls?Shit!
I'm so sick of these people holding Mon's job over her head. Kirk is so weak and petty here. .
The death stairs are getting so much use in this show.
Oh, Nop, you may be a pick-me ass dude, but at least you're trying.
Mon, you better answer the goddamn phone when your wife is calling.
You just knew Sam was gonna pop up at that gate. I hope she doesn't kill Nop this time.
This foyer scene is making me think about Kill Bill. If a bunch of dudes had come stomping in with swords I would have lost it.
Maximum angst next week.
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kate omg i bought a lato lato since its trending again here and like im 100% baby ellie would've played with lato lato all the time and joel would've gotten sick from the sound it makes
ngl sat there for a sec thinking “wtf is cher going on ab”
and then remembered google exists and YES. ellie wouldve been like mad obsessed with it, not even realizing shes messing with it half the time
meanwhile joel is getting a migraine. one day he would get so fed up that he just snatches it and puts in his pocket and keeps walking. poor ellies absolutely dumbfounded, jaw dropped eyes wide like “bitch?????” and like attacks him
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will be coming on in a lil bit to reply to everyone on IM and do some more drafts ( slowly wittling it down ), but for now under the cut are just some wanted plots i would like for my musesss pls and thanks :) this is very shittily drafted so pls ignore the lack of detail lmfao tw for gunplay
a thread where your naïve girl muse plays a game of dares with a duo, maybe a trio if im feeling optimistic, of harrison, fitz & tobias, they convince her that if she wants to fit in with them thats the kind of shit they do, whilst starting small, daring her to take off her panties, take off her top, and then eventually, suck their dick, let them fuck her but ‘just the tip’ and the whole while theyre laughing at her so its like, fun degredation humiliation moments
give me toxic relationships with connor where they’re launching plates at him and hes smashing shit and then they’re angry fucking
i want kinderwhore hot sexy big titty goth bitches to give sid the hugest boner of his life
i also still want to do the plot of sid and a close girl friend watching something lowkey pornographic on tv and him suggesting they both rub one out so they do and then they accidentally touch and it just makes them hornier and hes like fuck sorry i gotta and then hes fucking her
my muse is kiiiinda low for ted, but i still want a thread where a girl hits on him at a bar and hes like...um what
give remi some older men i beg, give her professors she can sit in front of in class and drop her pencil and show him shes not wearing panties, or give her bad boys who get her to take a tab in a club that shes snuck out to and fucking in the bathrooms
give noelle someone catching her filming OF content
fitz barton wants to fuck his friends moms!!!
cher cook wants to fuck her friends dads!!!
i want a thread where bowie and her best friend are hanging out and her friends telling her she’s never had an orgasm so bowie goes down on her
give cassidy a bodyguard she can call into her bedroom all innocent like can you help me undo my dress? and just being all round seductive because shes bored and manipulative
gun sucking!!!!
i want my test muse candy, good christian pageant girl, secret slut, to either suck a priests dick, or have a casting call moment where she fucks a pageant judge, or to masturbate with her friends dads pillow while she knows hes watching her
and give my test muse brandy, the young hot wife of a politician/crimelord, a guy who works for her husband that she can seduce
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Ana thanks your fun and cute. I like ur cajun. You like to call bitches "cher' " sometimez? I know gambit in xmen 90scartoon did and that is one of my only fictional basis of cajunness. Please tell me u do tho because that is a fun and cute and hot if you do
well that's a better basis than, like... bill dauterive. my immediate family has done its best to wipe away any trace of accent but everyone in my extended family sounds like the lightning bugs from princess and the frog. i generally don't use words like cher cuz they only sound right with the right accent. mine only comes out when i'm, like, laughing really hard.
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What’s in the Box || No. 10 w/Wjian Otrega x Chaise A.C-1
Warnings: quickies, vibrators, praise kink
Notes:
Kinktober Masterlist
Word Count; 1060
Wjian broke down the last box and laid it on the stack with the others, she pushed a blonde strand of hair aside and let out a sign of relief.
“That's the last box… now everything just has to be put away,” Wjian mutters to herself as she places the back down. Chaise was in the bedroom setting up the bed frame and gaming desk, the purple mattress wrapped up on the wall. Wjian decided to set up the kitchen which was really her just up away from the utensils and seasonings for an hour straight.
“Très cher could you come here real quick,” Chaise’s velvety voice called from the bedroom, When Wjian walked to the room to the delighted sight of a half completed master bedroom. It was the start of a pastel paradies.
“Yes, what is it?” She looked over to see Chaise staring into a suspiciously large box. He looks over a Wjian with a cheeky, shit eating grin.
“Did you buy something like this without my knowledge.” he smiled as he pulled out what looked to be a manual to whatever it was inside the package. The paper had the word attachments in big bold words.
“Oh Mierda, well I may have gotten a thing or two to ship before moving to our new place.” Wjian said sheepishly it was all in the heat of an ovulation week a month back or so, she was a different person than.
“Baby this is a bit more than a thing or two.”Chaise smirked as pushed the heavy box closer to Wjian. Her face was a peachy red as she looked into the box, it was a bunch of shit, way more than what she thought would be in the box. Inside the box were realistic dildos of varying sizes and shapes; some of them were not even human shaped.
“Maybe, you're right it’s a bit much but hey it’s already here so why not test them out.“ Wjian picked up one of the toys and it starts to light up like a LED show
“Mon Chou, where the hell did you even find this?”
“From that Donnabrell toy line y’know the famous brothel owner, even got a discount because a friend of my mom knows the owner.” she smiled and looked at the other things in the box, a nice looking blue rope was in here anyway.
“Pretty, but how come you didn't tell me.” Chaise stood up and wrapped his arms around Wjian in a tight hug.
“Well I was gonna wait until we were fully settled before I brought it up and I may or may not have forgotten about the box.” She places a kiss on Chaise’s cheek.
“Yeah I suppose you would’ve like to forget about the… Gooey Whet Whet Yummy Stinky like Kraft Macaroni and Cheese Fleshlight Deluxe,” Chaise said pulling the toy from the box.
“I think that was a blind bag freebie they sent,” Wjian said, taking the order form from the box and skimming through it.
“Yeah sure, so which thing were you planning us to use first.”
“This one,” Wjian pulled out a veiny skin colored dildo which had a vibrator attached to it.
“Starting off with something simple i see,” Chaise pulled off his short and unscrewed his current his dick, like opening up a water bottle.
”I feel a tad perverted watching you unscrew your miniature machine gun,” said Chaise snorts at the name she calls his dick.
“Why you already seen and have ridden this dick all before,” She picks up the new dick and hands it to him, then he starts to screw that one on.
“Damn bitch, this thing is heavy.”
“Well it is a phat cock with a vibrator at its base that's bound to have a bit of weight.” Wjian starts to offer clothes, letting them drop onto the soft carpeted floor.
“Slut’s like you really want to get straight to the point huh,”Chaise said, making sure the new phallic object was secure.
“Only for you mi amor” she winked at him as took off her underwear and bra, standing in front of her boyfriend naked again.
“Well get that cute ass over here.” Chaise pulled her to them as he dragged her to the bed, then took off his shirt. Laying Wjian down on the new bed, this was one way to break in a new mattress. Chaise wore his fingers along her slit, Wjian was already wet, but Chaise got a set of lube anyway.
Squirting out a generous glob, Chaise slathered the lube (water based) onto their wondrous weiner, that succulent meat masher.
Wiping the rest off onto Wjian’s suffocatingly tight, warm, cozy, wet, welcoming tasty, not to mention torentally downpouringly wet, friendly, adorable, delicious, wet, open and experienced yet closed and selective, fun loving, needy(but also very generous), large and in charge - but at the same time small and timid, independent but also very codependent, womanly- yet strong, wet, soaking honeypot(wet pussy!)
She lets out a shiver from the cold liquid, Chaise takes his time to slowly drive their “Wjian Whammy Whisks” into her inviting cunt. When he bottoms out the vibrator pushes against her clit. It makes her let out a lustful moan, as the slow buzz of the dick sings a pleasing song to her cream button.
“Oh! Ah ah ha~ fucck,” Wjian moaned out as Chaise thrusted into her with determination. He moved at an even pace as he leaned down to kiss her. When he leaned to kiss her he pushed the vibrator was shaking with more intensity. Making her legs quiver with pleasure, as shade was moved to what seemed to be one of the fastest orgasms ever.
“Come on now sexy, you're doing so good for me,” Chaise said with a breath of praise.
The pleasure was brimming in Wjian’s core. Obscene squelches and the samacking of skin filled the room. Damn he was really pounding her shit for real, going in like no tomorrow and like he was on a mission type strokes. Wjian would be walking funny for sure tomorrow.
“Hah~ I’m gonna- gonna cum~”
“You look so pretty… all blissed up like that.” He kissed her lovingly, peppering her face with his lips.
They stuck peep pee on poo poo and nutted. The end
#fluff#smut#anomaly hivemind#chaisex wjian#wjian#wjian ortega#chaise#chaise a.c-1#kinktober#knontober 2023#oneshot
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okay so for everyone who hasnt heard britney spears is getting a divorce from her current husband and oh my GOD no one can be fucking normal like i go to the r/fauxmoi subreddit because i am not above celebrity drama and i wont pretend to be and also they were one of the few pro amber heard places on the internet during that whole disaster
so you think they would be pretty good especially after the free britney movement when britney and her husband file for divorce and he immediately claims she abused him at the same time hes threatening to blackmail her and sexual assault and cheating allegations come out about him but nope!!! britney spears is still just a crazy bitch or an overgrown child to people and you can just tell shes crazy because i mean look at her instagram posts only CrAzY people talk like that on social media which is just insane to me :| like do you know what britney's posts remind me of? literally any fucking cher tweet but since cher hasn't been under a conservator ship shes just silly and old teehee britney however HAS to be crazy because god forbid a person speaks differently online after all shes been through
like people hyper analyze ANYTHING she does or posts now and its so depressing like none of you actually fucking cared about her and want her to live the way she wants to you just wanted to pretend to support her before you start calling her crazy all over again
#guy who just wrote 3 paragraphs about britney voice: can you guys literally just leave her alone this is none of your business#abuse mention
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they were in a real nice restaurant, not too classy, but also not too cheap either, it was a nice in-between kind of place, what mattered to majima is that they offered a lot of meat on their menu, & that’s all he worried about when it came to a place, though, cogita wouldn’t let him go out in his usual getup.
he was in his black, & red suit, usually what he wore to tojo clan meetings, but now he was wearing it out on dinner dates with cogita. he smoked a cigarette as he waited for the food to arrive to their table, his eye on cogita who looked as beautiful as ever. he really didn’t know how he scored a bitch like this one, but he somehow managed it.
“so, how’s work goin’ fer ya ? what ‘bout the family ya mentioned the last time ? keepin’ yer boys under control, i hope ? i can always give ya pointers on that. i have ‘bout several thousand men underneath me. reignin’ force in the tojo clan if ya can believe that.”
“ every king amasses his army over a period of time, not always all at once. ” a glove cradles her right temple whilst sharing her two cents about the matter, continuing her response.
“ unsurprising that it was quite difficult for some of my men initially to comprehend a woman who could bear a strong and pragmatic hand as any other masculine leader assumes control over them. I have had to prove them I’ve a strong backbone as they do time after time. however, any input would be greatly appreciated. ”
refined demeanor conveys overt adoration, spelling admiration across pallid face; light pink hues opaquely visible over cheeks. hand lofts under one white curl, hairs twirled around her index finger. bashfully casting away her gaze before risking a prolonged stare, mesmerized by majima’s formal attire.
how did she even allow herself to succumb under his bewitching charms, enraptured by beguiling deviousness; captivated by his roguish personality. suffice to say: cogita’s mannerisms tonight obviously articulate raw enamor for him. it’s in the way she looks at him serenely—the way she talks to him. dignified and professional, with a sense of lax poise mixed into sweetly lilted accent.
“ how responsible you must feel with the throne that you currently possess, and everything else that comes with its burdens. is it what you’ve desired, mon cher ? to lay claim to a higher seat ? ”
#mobile ic .#zankokukami#[ ☕ ] — 𝐥𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐞𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 ( zankokukami ) .#mobile ans .#/ we can continue this if u wanna
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