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#I just wanted their kids to have fancy sounding names :3
chaotic-deity · 3 months
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OC REFERENCE BUNDLE RRAAAAAHHHH
I'm gonna be honest, I fully forgot to post these LOL. A reference for Aurabelle's final designs, a ref for Vero, and some sketches of Boop's second child, Leonard!! :3
Let's hope I don't forget to do a full ref for Leonard (I forgot I was working on Aurabelle's for 2 months HAHA)
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melodrangea · 11 months
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Nicknames Soul Eaters Boys call their S/O
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Soul “Eater” Evans
sweetheart
he says this extremely sarcastically, especially during training
“C’mon sweetheart, is that all you got? I saw you lift twice as much yesterday.”
doll
often uses it in a more formal setting or when he’s trying to tease
“What’s the matter doll? Cat got your tongue?”
He’s a little menace but he’s our menace <3
babe
most common out of the three
you name DOES NOT exist to this man
no name, no nickname, nothing
“Babe can I borrow your notes. Babe where do you wanna go later? BABE”
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Black Star
n/n or another variation of you name
doesn’t really use pet names much (sorry babes)
why words words on pet names? he’s way too blunt and if he’s feeling something he’ll just say it, not waste time on fancy words or pet names
(that’s what he tells himself being fr he’s not creative enough as much as I love him)
babe
mostly used around friends (this dumbass thinks he’s being smug)
“hey babe wasn’t going out yesterday awesome? I mean since we’re so inlove and everything.”
the little shit would make your relationship EVERYONE ELSE’S problem (no one is safe 😭)
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Death the Kid
Darling
this pretentious hipster
is fairly consistent with the pet names he uses but darling is his favorite
“Darling can you please pass me that book there?”
“Are you alright darling?”
my dear
uses this one without realizing it most of the time
will be chilling in the library studying and will half-consciously call for you
“are you almost done?”
“just a few minutes more my dear, then we can go”
you chuckled, “what did you call me”
“what do you mean, what did I call you?”
love
Kid is a romantic at heart, very classy as well
he would stare into your eyes and call you love
“my love you have no clue how much I love you.”
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Crona Gorgon
honey
you would call him honey bunny as a joke and he loved it so he started calling you honey
would always have the cutest blush in his face when he said it too
“o-oh thank you honey :)” (cutie patootie 💋)
dear
would definitely take him a while to start calling this, but when he does 🤌💋
“are you alright if we stay a little longer dear? It’s been a while since we’ve seen the others”
being fr this poor soul would be TERRIFIED to call you something other than your name or a variation for A WHILE
his brains running six times the speed 🏃🏼
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Professor Stein
this sadistic mf
i pray for anyone dating this man
but we can be delulu for a few
dove
would absolutely call you dove or some other kind of bird
reminds him of how he protects you like your a delicate bird (and he likes experimenting on birds if yk what i mean 😏)
angel
TELL ME HE WOULDN’T
ngl he only calls you angel when he’s horny asf in a good mood
“hey angel, can you come here for a bit?”
NONE OF YOUR HOLES ARE SAFE RIP
honey
only time your safe if when he calls you honey
mostly calls you this when you’re having a bad day
BUT HE STILL MANAGES TO SOUND SARCASTIC ASF
this is a warning, this man will accidentally hurt your feelings 24/7
“You doing alright there honey? You want to talk about it?”
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Kilik Rung
fuck not being allowed to have favorites I LOVE THIS BITCH
only fully green flag in the show i stg (except Marie ofc)
lovebug
he will call you every single pet name he can come up with, but love bug is his favorite
neither of you know how it started but you’re not complaining
“You’re too sweet for me lovebug” <33
sweets
ya see what i did there? ofc he combines his two favorite things: you and those damn candy bars
“This class is so boring, right sweets?”
will calls you sweets often to express thanks kinda like a “thanks toots”
getting more into that
toots
he thinks he’s funny (and he is)
will say this very ironically and usually infront of friends to make everyone laugh
the only slightly annoying quality abt Kilik is his inability to take anything other than combat seriously
“hey toots, how’s it goin’?”
hon
I SWEAR THIS IS THE LAST ONE!
but you cannot tell me this man is not from New Orleans or some other adjacent
and the hon with the southern-ish accent
being so fr he will call you hon all the time and it will fluster tf out of you (he’s smug abt it, just a little 🤏
“You look nice, who are you all dressed up for hun?”
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woo hoo first post!
anyways hope y’all are doing great
any comments, questions, requests or concerns feel free to DM me!
-Melodrangea <3
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uravitypng · 1 month
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pseudo/faux - brother & sister ((toru-nii?)) ??? -oikawa x chubby reader HEAR ME OUT GUYS TORU WOULD HAVE THESE PERVERTED FEELINGS ABOUT SOMEONE WHO GREW UP TOGETHER LIKE SIBLINGS !!! (i've been thinking about this for the last couple days so i had to write it but go easy on me, first time writing this concept.) (there's probably mistakes in this, i wrote it before bed, i'm sleepy, sdfgchjvs)<3 (dark content)(MDNI -18+)(always check the warnings on my writing)
you're the younger sister of hajime by a year and you've been close since you were kids, you were his number one supporter. even though you were a year apart you spent a lot time together because you didn't have many friends you had joined the volleyball team as the manager so you could spend more time with him.
because of hajime it meant that you grew up surrounded by toru as well. you were so close you even called him toru-nii, he was like family, an older brother like hajime but toru didn't see you like that, not anymore...
once he had been your protector from bullies and your tutor to help you pass difficult classes you didn't understand but that was a long time ago now, you're not kids anymore.
in your eyes he's still your toru-nii, just like hajime is your nii-san. people say you need to stop calling them such childish nicknames now that you're in your adulthood but you ignore them, it doesn't sound right coming out of your mouth when you call them their names.
toru doesn't know when his feelings started to change towards you, he doesn't know when his innocent feelings became warped, when he started to feel guilty. all he knows is just one day you came running up to him wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him, your soft body pressing against him, you hadn't seen each other in weeks since you've both been so busy and barely had any contact at all through texts. oikawa hugged your back just as tightly that day.
all he knows is that day something changed within him, he wanted to hug you all the time, wanted you on your lap. he wanted you to go to every single game of his and wear his oversized jersey, imaging how it would cling to your round frame. he wanted to kiss your chubby cheeks and take you to fancy restaurants. he wants you.
it became a problem that day, you grabbing his hand to take him where you want to go while you call his toru-nii, that should have stopped his feelings in his tracks but it didn't- he got hard. that was the thing that made him guilty, you referring to him as toru-nii made him aroused. he wanted you to call him it again, straight after.
an innocent nickname turned into something more.
to you nothing changed though, you didn't ever think of him differently. you knew girls fawned over him and objectively you understand why but it's weird for you to think about for too long. back at school some of your classmates would say how jealous they are of you because you get to spend so much time with oikawa and you agreed that you were lucky to spend time with him, just for completely different reasons.
what toru didn't realise is his feelings towards you weren't something that he was suppose to feel even when you were both younger. he excused it as an big brother being protective just like iwa is but it wasn't the same. it's not normal to disguise subtle threats with a smile whenever someone got a bit to close up and personal with you asking for your number, he wouldn't want them to hurt your feelings. it's not normal for him to offhandedly make a comment in front of a large group of people about someone who upset you, if a rumour gets spread around school about that person then so well. he did this all platonically of course... hajime would have done exactly the same... right?
so was it really a surprise that late at night he couldn't help himself but stroke his cock, bucking his hips up to meet his hand. wet sounds echo around the room and toru lightly applies more pressure when his hand hits the base of his pelvis. his other hand holds onto his sheet tightly as he groans and moans picturing you there with him.
he starts talking like you're there with him, imagining you bouncing on his cock and your plump figure laying underneath him. stomach rolls squished together when when he's pushed your legs up against your chest and body jiggling with each thrust.
"feels so good baby, you make me feel so good. i know- ffuck- i know i'm big baby but you can take it, can't you. let toru-nii look after you." as soon as he says 'let toru-nii look after you' he cums with a moan of your name.
with every single night that passes he feels less guilty. this weekend you're planning to stay at his for a few days instead of getting a hotel. oikawa knows his walls aren't very thick. 'maybe she'll decide to help her poor toru-nii out. maybe she loves her toru-nii like i love her.'
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fraugwinska · 2 months
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I've seen fanfics about Alastor × deaf reader
But what about.. blind reader? Maybe they lost sight in some battle
How they would be confused meeting Alastor at first: did someone turn the radio on- oh, thats a demon talking!
And how confused would be Alastor as his feelings started to grow towards the reader: he just enjoys their company! What else can he do when they like to listen to him spilling the tea and just rambling about everything because of his soothing voice? His favourite listener
Then.. their relationships get a bit different as in another one relaxing evening together Alastor asks if they want to see him..
And on their confused silence he answers bringing their hands to his face for them to "read" his apperience..
Just thought it would be hella fun to read! Not good enough at english, sorry for mistakes
I love your writtings! 💕Stay hydrated and don't dare to overwork yourself ☝
Hiya lovely Anon! <3 I put my own little spin on your idea! I love fics like those, and this one sat in my drafts for ages - I hope the wait was worth it! Thank you so much for this ask! <3 Warning: Contains depictions of attempted SA, please read with caution - MINORS DNI!
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The bookstore was always quiet in the evenings. Well, it was quiet almost always.
Hell wasn't the most... appreciative place for tombs and books that didn't have porn or egregious murder in them, so your shop wasn't really frequented much. Occasionally, a new sinner would find their way in, not yet taken by the unpunished excessiveness Pentagram City had to offer, and would buy a book or two, never to be seen again. The rest of your clientele were loyal regulars, mostly elderly demons and imps getting books for their masters in other rings. It wasn't much, but enough for you to get by, live a simple, modest life. Your shop was mundane enough as to not attract the more dangerous ones the city had to offer, yet held the beauty that only an antique bookstore could, with a reading room like atmosphere, mismatched armchairs scattered in between the high bookshelves and an old radio on the counter playing in the background.
That didn't mean there weren't moments you'd have to get yourself out of some serious situations. On rare occasions, the patrons of your bookstore became too demanding or rough with you, thinking they could intimidate or screw you over because of your... handicap. After all, how would you see the hand reaching in the register, or the little spell book slipping into the inside pocket of a jacket. The blindness you were born with on earth hadn't left you in your death, but the enhanced sensitivity of your other senses made things easier for you. You had learned to take your losses, unwilling to let these moments ruin your confidence in your work or diminish your spirits.
You navigated through the little store with ease, putting laid-out books back into their designated places - feeling the backs of the books like it spelled their names, and motion memory guiding you through the maze of furniture and shelves - your plain, long felt skirt softly brushing this edge and that wood panel. What you wore wasn't fancy, modern or stylish attire, but it was comfortable enough. And who were you kidding? At the end of the day, nobody cared for your less-than-ordinary appearance, but yourself.
Your mind had been drifting around between random topics for a while until, on your last trip back to the front desk, your round ears picked up the bell on your door and the faint sound of staticy talking, coming from the direction of the counter. A customer, at this hour no less! But you were sure you had turned off the radio hours ago... maybe the old thing was finally breaking down, you thought with a little sadness. You hurried to it, still hung back in your thoughts and babbling as you turned the desk to shut the little device off so your customer wasn't disturbed.
"Hello, I'm terribly sorry if you're bothered by the radio, I should have turned it off. Feel free to browse through-" you paused mid-sentence as the air shifted slightly. You had turned the familiar knob but the filtered voice didn't stop talking. Your ears moved around, as if the source was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, trying to determine its source, when the other occupant of the store laughed at the surprise written on your face.
"Apologies aren't necessary my dear, but that wasn't the little device here but me, asking for service. Although I'm quite fond of a little old fashioned tune - comes with the title of the Radio Demon, you see." He talked with amusement, or something in his tone seemed powerful and dangerous. As his words started to make sense to you, you held a sharp breath, struggling not to take a step back. Of course you've heard of Alastor, the Radio Demon, but you've never had the honor (or dread) of meeting him in person. Rumors had spread around in hell a long time before you'd even gotten here, stories of a powerful overlord who'd broadcasted the screams and torments of his victims, spreading fear to everyone, from sinner, to lesser demons, to even other overlords themselves.
"W-welcome to my store, sir! What can I help you with today?" You smiled pleasantly, hoping that showing him respect and going out of your way for a courteous interaction could possibly keep you from being torn to pieces. You heard the ruffling of fabric - a hand reaching into a pocket, wrapping it's fingers around a thick piece of paper, along a low, distorted chuckle. "A good friend of mine recommended your store to me, I am looking for a few... unusual books, hopefully to be found here."
You waited into the silence, one second, two, three. When he said nothing, only static noise slowly increasing in volume, you decided to speak again. "May you tell me the titles, sir?"
"If you'd take the list, little mouse, everything I need is on it." His voice had an edge of annoyance to it now. You didn't know when his presence had approached so close to where you stood, and couldn't decide if that was a good sign or not. You sighed, pulling the darkened glasses off you wore day in, day out, revealing the white irises that gave your blindness away. After a sound like a record scratch, you managed a helpless smile. "I fear if it's not in braille, it won't do much to hand me that."
The other demon was silent again, but the crackling static had dropped, and before you had time to add something that wouldn't get you gutted, he'd barked a laugh, sounding genuinely amused and entertained.
"My, isn't that a bit cliché, my dear? A blind mouse? Any chance you have two siblings?"
That joke was new. You dared to husk out a little laugh, too, your hands gently resting on the counter top. "I hate to disappoint, but no. I even have my tail still, no farmers wife with a knife."
There was a change in his stance, his coat sweeping the air as you heard the list was laid on the wooden surface in front of you, surprisingly not crushed or crumbling under the power of his hand. Coldness swept like waves of fog over the front desk and your hands, you pulled them away with a shudder, confused, but your patron just hummed.
"There, that should've done the trick. I'd rather not want to read my little.... requests aloud, they're a rather curious bunch, I believe. Very useful, though, especially those for more creative types in cooking."
You reached for the paper and thumbed through the braille letters one after the other, feeling a long list of more... taboo tomes you were sure wouldn't have even been mentioned in any respectable catalogue. Luckily, you were a glutton for oddities and curiosities, and with a small smile of pride you found that you had every book on the list on hand. Maybe it was this pride thatgave you the confidence so that you didn't reply and instead swiftly jumped ahead, bustling through the rows and pillars of bookshelves. Every step was calculated, from the short staircase to the tiny nook where you stored spell books and tombs of dark magic, navigating past all the tables and furniture to the particular bookcase containing ritualistic cookbooks. Once you had a feeling where a book would be located, you searched the titles by stroking the backs with the pads of your fingers, tapping quickly and analyzing the material and little bumps and nicks of the spines. Once found, you traced the edges of the piece and drew up a mental image in your mind to check it wasn't bent, dirty, torn or had any parts missing. Your fingers were your eyes, and they were keen.
As you carried the rather heavy stack back, the Radio Demon hadn't moved an inch from where you'd left him, as far as you could tell. It had been hard not to acknowledge him throughout the ordeal while your brain just went on autopilot after realizing he didn't mean to kill you, at least for the moment. On one hand, that was comforting; on the other hand, it was absolutely horrifying.
"Here you go, sir. Please, feel free to check if they are up to your standards." You set the books down carefully, counting the number of thick covers in the stack to be sure and your fingers brushed sharp talons as apparently the Radio Demon reached out to inspect the books as you offered. With a sharp inhale and a heated face you quickly drew back, stammering apologies. He only chuckled faintly, the static surrounding him crackling as if it, too, was amused.
You stood silently behind the counter and listened to him flipping through the pages, turning the books around to read their contents, humming here and there. He seemed content with the lot and you were sure that once he'd paid, he would leave, hopefully sparing your meager existence and not leaving any destruction behind.
"Very well! These will do perfectly, little mouse. And, I have to say, you have a very interesting collection. The quality of your inventory exceeds what Zestial promised. You might expect a few more visits from me in the future, if you don't mind."
The last sentence wasn't a question. It was a statement, underlined with the sound of a heavy stack of bills placed on your counter. Your hands confirmed what your ears already suspected - your patron well overpaid you.
"Not at all, sir, but you gave me too much mon...."
But the air shifted again, and a chime and a thud later you knew he had already walked out, his laughter the last thing you heard before the door clicked shut.
“...ey.”
What a peculiar man, you thought, still processing the entire experience. His voice had been darling, no wonder he chose radio as his medium. You were sure his smile you've heard so many demons whisper about was wide and predatory, but he had been so polite. Even the nickname he'd given you had been charming, compared to the names and remarks you've had thrown at you by lesser demons, and you shook your head at the ridiculousness of your face flushing at the memory.
'Little mouse.'
After a long moment, you finally counted the money and put the amount he tipped you aside in your hidden safe, making a note to yourself that you would give it back to him when he'd return. If he'd return.
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Weeks passed and the Radio Demon had kept his promise and visited again. And again. And again.
The first time he came back and you, already flustered, offered to give back the surplus money he'd paid you, he was baffled before he heartily laughed and ignored your attempts to return it to him, instead buying three more books and leaving you with even more undeserved cash in your hands.
Almost once a week he'd return to your store, sometimes he'd have a whole list of books he'd want to buy, and he almost never left your store with empty hands. Sometimes he'd sit down in one of the many chairs to peruse a tomb you set aside for him, predicting he'd find interest in it as you learned his tastes in literature, and he'd hum almost happily when you found a new curiosity or a grimoire that was especially hard to come by. And sometimes he just came in for a quick visit, not even intending to buy a book but just to chat a bit. With every encounter your initial apprehension shifted into appreciation, so much so that you'd grow to eagerly await his return, the sound the bell made when he enthusiastically swung the door open or the slight distortion of your radio when he changed the station to one that suited his mood better.
You were a bit enchanted with him, if you were honest. Not only had every interaction been intriguing and entertaining, he'd been one of the rare visitors who hadn't maliciously mocked or threatened you, or worse. And you found that you enjoyed the small banters you could have with him, the fact that he treated you no differently than anyone else. It was refreshing, and each of his visits put a spring in your step for days, no matter how hard you tried not to think about him.
By the time several months had passed, he became your favorite client and he seemed to have an everlasting interest in your inventory as well as yourself. You learned that he was quite a wealthy demon with a seemingly insatiable appetite for entertainment, and always with an eye for quality, which you vowed yourself to provide in return, if only to keep him coming back. You found you could spend hours with only him at the store over freshly made coffee, discussing various literary concepts and historical events he used as references, and it was a delight to laugh together about some particularly odd rituals in books like 'Old Spells to Cure Thievery' or 'Blood Rituals of the Flaying Kink'.
Sometimes, when you'd hand him a new find or a heavy tomb, his hands would lightly brush yours and his voice would drop and become a bit softer, quieter as he cooed his nickname for you - 'Little Mouse'. With your lack of vision, you didn't know how his face looked nor how his expression would've surely changed - but his voice took on a tone that would be fitting for a date, and the touches made you shiver lightly and tingle and you felt heat spread all over your chest and the pit of your stomach when he did. If your body betrayed those reactions on your face, he wouldn't tease you for them. At least, you never noticed if he did. Maybe he had the grace to simply not remark on them, you thought, for once grateful for your blindness so you wouldn't have to see your own - surely ridiculously dumbstruck - expression reflected in the windows of your storefront. But the physical contact between you became more frequent, more deliberately made, and you'd caught his own quiet sigh every now and again when he lingered for just a moment longer before the doorbell chimed and he'd leave again.
One evening, as you were cleaning up and preparing for tomorrow's customers, a soft knock on the already locked door pulled you out of the haze of your radio's gentle tune. Turning around, you moved slowly towards the sound of the interruption, adjusting your dark glasses.
"My apologies, but we're closed for tonight, please come back tomorrow."
There was no reply, no sound of footsteps and your ears strained to catch a whisper of a sound, to find a new hint as to who was outside. Another knock, harder now, sounded and this time it took all your courage to approach. Your hair stood at its roots as your hands rested at the wooden door, your senses tingling that you better not open - that danger stood in front of your store.
"Please go, we'll be open again tomorrow."
Your reflexes, acting faster than your brain, made you stumble back as the glass of your front doors shattered into a million pieces. In a panic you tumbled to the floor, hands over your face as the pieces broke apart on impact. There were voices, rough and foreign sounding, that accompanied the stomping of boots. You shuffled back on the ground, trying to get out of the way before being stepped or kicked upon, reaching to the walls and bookshelves to find some stability to guide you in getting away from what was coming towards you.
"T-take what you want, please, I won't stop you. Just... just take it and leave."
Your words were shaking in fear and the little hope that a verbal warning and submission would placate the robbers. To your horror the voices - two, if your panicked mind didn't fool you - erupted into raspy laughter and you realized then that money might not be the only thing these demons were after.
"You were right, Hank. This is going to be easier than I thought, look at how helpless the bitch is."
"Told 'ya, Tommy Boy. An' the best part..." supposedly the one called Hank said deviously, and you were yanked up at your wrists and thrown over what must've been your counter, your glasses slipping and breaking at the impact and your eyes dwelling with hot tears. You recognized this voice… just a few days ago this demon had come into the shop, just as Alastor was about to leave, lingering around the shop and leaving quickly mumbling a half-asses excuse without buying anything after you asked if you could help him find something and Alastor's static crackled dangerously. The same smell of sharp sweat and wet tobacco lingered around him, making your stomach turn. "... she can't tell anyone who we are. Hoh, look, her eyes are some freaky shit, 'n you bet her tits 're freaky, too. S'not even our damn birthday but looks like we got ourselves a gift. 'Ya wanna go first?"
"You know me - Don't mind if I do."
With a heart beating out of your chest and shallow breaths, you tried to feel with your only free hand for something, anything, to defend yourself with. You had to defend yourself. Anything would be better than what horrific thing they were about to do. There was only the flat, leather bound accounting book close by, but it was better than nothing, and in a motion of impulse and fear you slashed with it into the general direction you felt the weight of Tommy settle onto the counter top above you. His complice bellowed angrily, making your ears ring, and Tommy snatched the weapon from your hand to throw it away. His breath smelled of filth and cold ash, the skin of your throat burned when he wrapped his calloused hands around it.
"We're gonna show ya your fucking place, worthless blind cum-chunk bitch, an' when we're done with ya..."
There was a sudden, instant sound of feedback, a wet splatter and a horrified scream and hasty, fleeing footsteps before a wave of relief washed over you as your neck fell free from the intruders grasp and you heard a familiar voice.
"Oh, my dear fellow, do go on. I'd love to hear the end of that sentence." A low, distorted chuckle followed. Alastor sounded different - menacing. Bone-chilling. If those words would've been directed at you, you would've been mortified. But it sounded like honey in your ears, knowing who the recipient was. "Ah, how silly of me - surely it's much harder to speak without vocal chords."
Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as the sounds of violence became ever more gruesome. A whipping sound, a wail and a choked gasp and two stomach-churning thuds of something hitting the floor.
"Well that's not handy at all - you can't even sign your pathetic pleas now. How unfortunate to be in such a vulnerable position, isn't it?"
A thud, then another - your stomach turned as the room got flooded with a different type of warmth. Your lungs and chest stung from the stench of iron and decay and your throat hurt as you realized one aura had vanished from the store and Tommy was most likely reduced to a fleshy pile on the ground. Suddenly you felt a sharp but warm, strangely long but familar hand cradling the back of your skull, pressing your cheek against a broad, angled shoulder, another wrapped tightly around your shoulders, resting under your ears. It was quiet, now - you could only hear your staggered breathing and Alastors static that had gone down a notch or two. You thought his breathing had become more labored, too, when he slowly, gently, let go and straightened you to bring you to a standing position, his hands shifting into their usual shape as they came to rest lightly on your upper arms.
"Are you alright, dear?" His voice was almost back to the tone you were so fond of - almost. There still was an undertone, a dangerous sharpness. Your fingertips instinctively grasped and searched until they met with the familiar texture of his clothing and you nodded.
"Y-yes... I think so, yes. What - what happened to the other one?"
There was a deep laugh, one you haven't heard yet from him. "Oh, my dear, no need to fret over that. I'll deal with that pest later. I should've dealt with him the moment he stepped into your store. An oversight I intend to shortly redeem."
It should have frightened you - should've made the situation so, so much worse, hearing that Alastor planned more torture for that vile creature, probably even an equally gruesome death like the one his friend got. But his words only calmed you. Made you feel... safer. Your fingers lingered on his suit longer than you expected, tracing the detailed seams of his lapels, smoothing out invisible wrinkles on the fabric, feeling the details of the cool, metallic buttons. And he let you. He stood still, allowing your hands to see what your eyes couldn't.
"I can't decide if it's a blessing or a shame that you can't see the carnage I caused. Although I am pleased that you didn't have to look at the ugly faces of those cretins who tried to defile you." He took your hands from his coat and placed them softly on his face. "But maybe… you can try to envision what your savior looks like, hm?"
His hands left yours again, though you found the sensation and feeling of his touch remained where he placed them. Your heart fluttered as you couldn't keep yourself from running your palms and fingertips over his skin, cautiously tracing his angular jaw, making out the distinct feeling and sharp lines of a toothy grin. Then you pushed further, fingers running along a slight bow and over the indent where his brows arched, his cheekbones prominent enough you felt the warmth of blood flushing under the skin as the mental image of his face got clearer.
You were in awe that you could do this, that he encouraged it even, but he allowed you the tender moment, making a muffled humming sound and exhaling quietly under your soft, curious touch. You realized at last that his eyes were closed for you, the skin there slightly pliant and firm at the same time. With the tips of your fingers, you followed the firm, straight bridge of his nose down the length of it and he inhaled sharply when you brushed his lips. The familiar sound of static increased just enough for you to realize there had been complete silence aside from your soft and his steady breathing. He opened his eyes again, slowly taking your hands away to leave a feathery light, lingering kiss on your knuckles as he hummed thoughtfully.
"Now, let me clean up this mess, we don't want you stumble over any... unpleasant bits." You heard a snap and felt the air whirring around you, filling with a thick, fog-like sensation as you heard your floors creaking, wood mending and cracking and tiny bits of glass swirling around you, piecing itself together and returning into their frame. Not even a minute later the shop felt normal again, the unpleasant smell gone as well, and with it the overall apprehension the threat had caused.
"Thank you, Alastor. Truly, I don't know what would've happened if you weren't..." you started, pausing as his hands wandered gently around your face to put on your miraculously repaired glasses. He laughed softly, tapping a gentle, slender finger on the tip of your nose.
"Luckily we didn't find out, did we? Ah, but, unfortunately, I'd say the night has been spoiled for us, given that there's another vermin to take care of." He walked behind you, carefully setting the accounting book you had used as an attempted weapon into your hands, his taloned fingers curling gently around yours as if to make sure you had a proper hold on it.
"You lock up when I'm gone, little mouse. And who knows - Maybe we'll continue to see each other... tomorrow night."
And then you felt another gentle peck, this time on your flushed cheek, and the door opened with the bell ringing, the faint crackle of a radio fading and his heavy, signature scent of burned wood and bourbon lingering around you as you hurried to bolt the doors shut, heart racing painfully in your chest at the prospect of adding even more parts of the Radio Demon to the image in your mind.
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smusherina · 5 months
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yard work - chapter 12 (regina george x reader)
fandom: Mean Girls (all media)
pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her. warning(s): a homophobic character saying some homophobic shit. listen, it's set in 2004 it was inevitable.
chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 13
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"So..." Gretchen drawled from the passenger seat. "You're still not doing the dance with us?"
Regina glanced at her. "No."
"Cady's taking the lead." The brunette said, very badly acting as if she wasn't looking for a reaction. Regina resisted the urge to bite back, to defend her honour, and kept her eyes on the road.
"Great." She said, voice tart. "She's doing the stunt, is she?"
"Yup." Gretchen's breath hitched. "She's, uh, got it nailed down."
A mean smirk spread her lips. "Oh, really? I'm looking forward to it."
Gretchen swallowed. Regina spied from the rearview mirror Karen was watching the scenery pass by dreamily.
"What's up, Karen?" Regina asked.
"The sky!" Karen stated proudly. "And birds, I suppose. Hold on..." She felt up her boobs, pulling at her nipple obscenely. "Ouch. Yeah, it's gonna start snowing soon."
Regina, knowing the forecast had promised much the same thing, hummed. "Gonna have to stay in, then."
Gretchen shifted her weight on the passenger seat. She seemed uneasy. Both she and Karen had been severely late to arrive at her car today and had seemed... Dodgy. Regina could hardly blame her, though. Things had gotten weird recently.
She wasn't being nice. Not exactly. She'd just, kind of, dialled it back a little. A year ago she'd have spent the days leading up to Christmas break making the rounds, spreading nasty rumours about this and that, ensuring everybody's holidays were ruined just the right amount. This time, she'd forgone that.
A part of it, a large majority, was due to the Thanksgiving fiasco with Jorts. Another, smaller part, was because she was tired. She just didn't want to.
Arriving at her house, Regina parked and stepped out of her car. Gretchen and Karen followed her inside where mom greeted them with mugs of hot chocolate. Fancy chocolate and skim milk. Regina pointedly left her mug on the tray.
As she was going up the stairs, she noticed neither Gretchen nor Karen had grabbed a mug.
"Take them." She gestured vaguely back to her mom. "Don't be wasteful, girls."
Making her way up leisurely, she relished in the sound of the two girls scrambling to grab their mugs and then follow her as fast as possible. She might've loosened her hold on the student body, but Gretchen and Karen she'd keep. She didn't care if it was immoral or something, she'd done a lot of work to get them where they were.
"Shane Oman's doing a Christmas party this Friday," Gretchen informed them as they settled around Regina's room. "There's talk he's specifically invited Doris Harris."
"Who the fuck names their kid Doris Harris?" Regina scoffed and inspected her nails. She'd have to get a new set soon. "Are you going?"
"What? You- you're not?" Gretchen sputtered.
"I have... Plans." Important, top-secret plans. "Shane Oman is a sleazebag and a womanizer. Doris can have him." She said airily and looked at the two girls sitting on her floor.
"What plans do you have?" Gretchen probed. Karen looked on, seeming to be in her own world. Little specks of snow were beginning to fall outside.
"Private." She left it at that. "Who are you bringing to the party?"
"Probably Jason." Gretchen sighed. Regina's face twisted.
"You're still with that douche?" She sat down cross-legged near the two. "Why?"
"Oh, do you think I should break up with him?" Gretchen looked between her and Karen, seeming lost. "I can do that."
Regina rolled her eyes. Okay, maybe she'd put a little too much work in these two. They were old enough to think for themselves.
"Look, Gretchen..." She closed her eyes. "I'm not gonna say sorry. I'm, uh, just not going to." She didn't tack on the yet that meant to crawl up her throat. Too much too fast. "However, it's becoming apparent that my usual methods are no longer as effective. Exhibit A, Cady Heron."
Gretchen stared at her. Then, her head tilted to the side like that of an inquisitive dog. Karen was gaping at her, having probably not comprehended a single word. Regina sighed.
"Look, I'm not gonna just waste my time and energy putting people down anymore!" She was feeling way too defensive and the others hadn't even said anything. "I might, like, join a sports team or something for senior year. Focus on myself."
"Wow." Gretchen breathed out. "So, you're just gonna step down?"
"I'm still Regina fucking George. I'm not gonna stop being me." That being a vicious bitch with a lot of hate in her heart. "I'm just saying that it's getting old."
"Why? You- you can't just stop. That makes no sense. Someone's gonna take you over, like- like Doris Harris!" Gretchen took several short breaths, this close to hyperventilating. "Doris Harris is going to be the new Regina George!"
She rolled her eyes so hard her entire head rolled with them. "That statement contradicts itself. If she's the new Regina George, I'm still on top. The original."
"You sound so alike." Karen smiled. "You two are so cute. True love."
"Karen!" Gretchen snapped, sounding like a chihuahua. "Shush!"
"Who sounds alike?" Intrigued, Regina leaned forward. "Me and who? True love?"
"Oh, uh..." Karen looked to Gretchen, who was trying (and failing) to subtly shake her head, and then to Regina whose eyes bored into hers. "Uhhhhhhh..."
"She's rebooting." Regina huffed, leaning back. "Gretch, I just... I don't care anymore."
It had been a startling realization. Not a quick one despite the one eureka moment that'd brought it all together. There were things more important to her than maintaining a hierarchy in high school. It still was important, to a degree, but well. If she had to pick between one-upping some random girl at a shitty party and date night with Jorts, the choice was entirely too obvious. It was going to be date night every time.
(If she even had that privilege anymore. She's called her slurs, for fuck's sake. She could only hope her apology would be good enough.)
"How can you not care?" Gretchen screeched. Karen sipped at her hot cocoa nervously.
"I just don't." Something like this, not caring about something, wasn't a decision she could consciously make. At least, not entirely. Once you stopped caring, you just did. That was that.
It wasn't easy, though. She didn't have the strength of will to be deliberately mean to everyone, every single day, but she would not tolerate people stepping on her toes. If somebody encroached, she wouldn't hesitate to bring them down. Where the line went, distinguishing between a serious threat and a general nuisance, was the hard part.
Letting go of the instinct to just be mean was a challenging hurdle.
"She's changed you. All this time, you've been talking to her, haven't you? J, Jorts, whoever she is. She's corrupted you." Gretchen sneered. "What happened, Regina? Or should I say, Reggie?"
Regina looked at her friend, minion, accomplice- whatever.
"Excuse me?" She said, so quietly it could've been mistaken for a whisper.
"You heard me." Gretchen's sneer dissolved, old instinct to cower kicking in. "Reggie." She hissed, a feeble attempt at keeping her power.
"What the fuck do you know about J?" Regina could feel herself grow cold, anger mixing with panic, mixing with visceral, palpable terror.
Of course, all that manifested as blind fury.
"We know plenty about J. You've never shut up about her. Y'know, I used to think she was an ex-boyfriend of yours 'cause of the way you talked about her. And now, it all makes sense." Gretchen spread her arms provocatively. "Because she's gotten into your head, used her sticky, lesbo fingers to mix you up. Snap out of it, Regina. This is not who you are."
Anger roiling in her stomach, she was about to release pure acid onto the dimwitted, insensitive, stupid girl, when Karen spoke up.
"Gretchen, you're being stupid." She said so lightly. Both of them turned to look at Karen. She was watching the window, looking immensely pleased with herself. Yet another correct weather report.
"What?" Gretchen breathed out.
"Stupid. That's stupid. I didn't know you were, like, homophobic." Seeming to focus, Karen turned to face Gretchen. "I think I told you my brother's gay."
"Oh." Gretchen deflated. Regina didn't know what she should do. "Well, that's different, he's a guy! Lesbians are totally different."
"How?" Karen, more engaged than Regina had witnessed her be in a long time, kept her eerily wide eyes trained on Gretchen. "How is it any different?"
"Listen, everybody can do what they want with... Whoever, like, consents, but it's different when they shove their beliefs in people's faces." Regina, quite astounded, didn't know what to say. Karen did, though.
"J didn't shove anything in our faces. I don't think she shoved anything in Regina's face." She put her finger to her chin. "Unless they're into that sort of thing."
"Karen..." Regina sighed.
"Anyway, I think your opinions about gay people are weird, Gretchen. You should look into that."
"My opinions are just fine!" Gretchen's shoulders rose all the way up to her ears. "You guys are the weird ones! It's not like I hate gay people! There's just, y'know, healthy concern. If it was so easy to turn Regina then what can they do to impressionable little kids?" Gretchen licked her lips nervously. "What about Kylie?" She asked, looking to Regina for sympathy or agreement or something.
By that point, Regina had checked out.
"I don't think Regina's changed. Not really." Karen's owl eyes turned to her. "She's just... Shedding. Like a snake. Getting a new skin." She dragged her eyes up and down. "Yeah. New, shiny scales. Like a blonde, human green tree python. My dad has one. A snake one."
"Thanks," Regina said, tone flat. She then turned to Gretchen. "Get out."
Her hands trembled. Rage or fear, she couldn't tell where the tremor stemmed from.
"Regina, this isn't right-"
Just the sound of her voice made her blood boil. Her eyes stung too, but she refused to feel anything but anger.
"What isn't right is that you're still in my house. J is my childhood friend and the assumptions you've made about her are life-threatening. People are killed because they're gay, Gretchen. She hasn't turned me into anything, much less something you're insinuating." The claim that Jorts had turned her into a lesbian was false. If there were to be a claim about Regina's sexuality alone, then the answer wouldn't be so clear. "Get your fucking act together. I'm too good to bother with high school politics. We're going to college in two years. Stop being so small-minded and do something with your life for once."
She heaved in lungfuls of air. She stood up abruptly, walked to the door and pointed down the hallway.
"I-" Gretchen tried to say something, but Regina just reiterated her point.
"Out!"
She didn't particularly care that her friend (ex-friend) didn't have a ride home. She didn't care that she was a bigot, that Gretchen was right about her and Karen being the weird ones. She didn't care that Jorts had definitely changed her in some way.
As soon as the brunette had scuttled down the stairs, the front door slamming on her way out, Regina slumped against her door. She didn't care. She did not care.
"So, is it just us, now?" Karen asked from her spot on the floor. Regina was pretty sure she hadn't moved an inch since she plopped down. "Is J gonna be our new friend?"
"I don't know, Karen." She buried her face in her hands. Fuck. She wasn't supposed to care. "I didn't know Gretchen was like that."
"Hmm." Karen hummed. "I didn't know you weren't like that."
Her head snapped up, looking at Karen. Her expression was unreadable, like a book with blank pages.
"I... I'm scared, Karen."
"Yeah. My brother's boyfriend is from Alabama and he's been beat up before 'cause he looks gay. And he is gay, but the earring gave it away, I think. And my uncle died of AIDS and my family don't really talk about him and we weren't allowed to see him. My aunt that's in New York's been living with her best friend of, like, thirty years for forever and I went to visit one time and they had only one bedroom."
That was perhaps the longest, most coherent sentence Karen had ever said. Too bad the subject was so grim.
"Wow, Karen. Sounds like your family's full of..." What could she call them? Her mind defaulted to nasty slurs. "People like that."
"I guess." She smiled faintly. "I hear them crying sometimes, in my brother's room, when they're home for the holidays. Mama says I shouldn't go up and snuggle them until they feel better. They're having a moment." Karen looked confused at that. "Are we having a moment?"
Regina slowly unfurled from her slump against the door. "Maybe."
"Oh. Okay." She accepted easily. The familiarity of the scenario had a smile creeping back to Regina. "My brother smiles the biggest when me and his boyfriend team up against him at board games. My mom cries when we visit my uncle's grave. She tells us stories about him and shows us pictures. My aunt has three cats with her bestie and they call them their children and they wear matching rings."
"That's really sweet, Karen." Regina, now smiling in earnest, shuffled closer.
"I don't really get it." She said in the same light tone she'd use when talking about schoolwork. "Like, my brother's boyfriend is really nice so I don't get why people beat him up for dating my brother. And I think it was really mean that my grandma didn't let mama see her brother when he was sick. And my aunt and her best friend already live together, have cat-kids, and kiss on the mouth, so why can't they get married for real?"
Regina stared ahead, more than a little floored. Gretchen, simultaneously surprisingly and unsurprisingly, was a homophobe. Regina knew the political climate and knew that being openly gay was social suicide, and sometimes literal suicide, but she hadn't expected someone so close to her to be like that. They hadn't talked about it much, to be fair. Besides, Regina wasn't much better. While she might've not been a real homophobe, as in actually subscribed to the ideology, she'd done plenty of homophobic acts.
Whether or not in the name of projection or denial didn't really matter. Janis 'Imi'ike had been the first girl she'd subjected to hate crimes and discrimination, but not the last. How many times had she shoved other girls under the bus so she could get off scot-free? How many times had she done it for a twisted sense of fun?
Too many, was the easy answer. Not enough, whispered the scared, hidden thing in the back rooms of her mind.
And Karen was an ally. A supporter of the cause. And unexpectedly well-spoken when she had something she liked to talk about.
"Karen, I like girls."
"Me too!"
Regina's heart beat like a drum. She was beginning to sweat.
"No- I mean, like, I'm... A lesbian. I guess."
"Okay!"
She snuck a glance at the other girl. She was peering mournfully into her empty mug.
"Like your aunt and her best friend." She took a deep breath. "I like girls in that way."
"Uhh, duh," Karen smiled at her, beamed, really. "J is your true love."
"I wouldn't go that far." Regina sighed but had to purse her lips to keep from smiling. At the same time, a knot tightened in her chest, like hiccups trying to escape. She threw her head back and puffed out a breath, blinking rapidly.
"Let's go get more hot chocolate and I'll tell you about my talent show performance." She wiped discreetly at her eyes and extended a hand to Karen.
"Hot cocoa!" The girl exclaimed as she pulled herself up with Regina's help. "Ouuuhh, what kinda performance?"
"A song." Regina guided them down the hallway. "For her."
Obviously, she had more than just a song planned. A proper apology, for one, was in the works. Karen didn't need to know about that, though. That was between her and J.
Notes: Boo I lied it's not the last one. I thought it would be! I was wrong! I did start rambling like I kind of predicted in the notes of the last chapter. Or, like, I felt the ending would be a little too abrupt without some downtime. So have some Regina POV!
Will no longer be making predictions about when the end is. I'll only be contradicting myself lol. But like, the arc is coming to a close, a natural end is coming. And then the epilogue things.
Praying to god the taglist will work. Trying a new method today, fingers crossed! Hand-typing every single fucking name, no commas in between names, the utmost technicalities. This is the night fellas, the night we've been waiting for.
Edit: it didn't work. in fact, it worked worse than the other times! fuck! put another version of the list, back with commas, and it seems to tag some people but not all. gonna have to do some scouring on the internets.
Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018
(if you want to be added to the taglist, comment so on this post! beware it seldom works. i try my best.)
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Stardew Valley Bachelors and their preferred pet names for you
You know the drill by now. Enjoy ✨
Sam:
-he’s pretty standard, so don’t expect something crazy, he isn’t good with words.
-baby/babe; pretty standard, but it’s what comes to his mind when he sees you. You’re just his baby girl 😩💕
-cutie; he won’t call you that all the time, but more when he is in a playful mood and wants to show you how much he likes you :3 “hey cutie, what are you doing there?”
-what can I say except I told you so🫣 he’s better with showing his affection through actions, not words 🤷🏼‍♀️
Sebastian:
-also pretty standard
-baby (this will come up a lot more I’m sorry y’all 😭)
-darling; but only when he’s in the mood for it
-(little) bat; because you kept joking about him being an emo/goth and he called you that for fun…it kinda stuck and it’s really cute ngl 🖤
-I have a feeling he will occasionally insult you as an inside joke too lol. Nothing too intense, he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but he won’t hold back to tease you like he teases Sam or Abbey
Elliott:
-behold, he’s a connoisseur for good old-fashioned pet names
-darling; I don’t have to elaborate
-love (in the most tender, smooth voice you can imagine)🥰🤭🫣💗
-precious; because you’re the most valuable thing in his life 😍
-he will throw in some original pet names which will sound oh so fancy, like names of flowers he finds beautiful, or generally things he loves (maybe not Tom Kha soup or lobster 💀)
Harvey:
-he’s so sweet, he’s like Elliott in that regard, so he will use some outdated ones
-darling 🤭
-love; his favourite, he can’t but blush himself calling you ‘his love’ (😩💗)
-honey; he uses that one a lot too. When you have breakfast together and he reads something interesting in the newspaper, he’ll happily exclaim it to grab your attention
-dear; but that one not so much, mostly when he is “arguing” with you or tries to talk you out of a dangerous idea (the farmer is a bit unhinged and he’s so worried about you 🥺)
Shane:
-Shane is a guy-guy, but he has some variety to his pet names based on his mood
-angel; this one is my favourite for his pet names. Not only does it apply because you ‘saved’ him from committing a big mistake, but he also found a real friend in you which he didn’t have for most of his life
-babe; pretty standard, he uses it quite frequently instead of calling you by your name
-doll; sometimes that unintentional dad vibe comes through but I find it a bit funny lmfao
-he also uses plenty of stupid “insults” like Sebastian because he’s a little menace and mild bullying is his love language 💙 if you’re short you’re a dwarf or hobbit for sure despite him being a short king himself
Alex:
-Alex can be a brick-head, but he has some cute names he likes to use
-baby; wow, we haven’t had that one yet 😃
-doll; idk why; I look at that guy and it just fits 🤷🏼‍♀️
-farm girl/boy; it’s a nod to the time you just got to know each other. He likes to nag you a bit with that one which you lovingly play into
-gorgeous; he just has to emphasise how freaking beautiful you are to him 🥰 he will often go past you and pretend he’s hitting on you, as if you’re not married for 5 years and have 2 kids lol. “Hey gorgeous, I’ve never seen you around here. You have a boyfriend? If not I’d like to apply for that position.”
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roguerogerss · 9 months
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snow lands on top
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pairing: coriolanus snow x covey reader
w/c: 3.2k
warnings: just fluff! a few sexual comments but nothing more, mentions of family deaths, reader is just a poor lil soul
(merry christmas my angels! if you’re having a hard time, i feel you! here’s some soft coryo lovin to help you through it. the holidays r a hard time for so so many people, and my inbox will always be open to anyone who needs someone who’ll understand <3 luv you the most, we’ll get through it all)
-
Christmas Eve. The soft patter of snowfall, the breeze from your half open window, the bustle of the Corso below. You'd been listening to the Christmas shoppers - stressed or unbothered - the kids playing in the snow, mothers and fathers dragging their children to holiday themed events. Laying around in bed all day in old silk had become your go-to on the run-up to Christmas.
You’d come to hate snowfall. It meant the sounds of merry families, playing outside together. It meant mourning for when you could do that, it meant resenting others, something that the Covey would never want for you.
Christmas was bittersweet. It had been for years, now. No gifts under your small, sad Christmas tree, no family gathering, no over-the-top dinner event, sometimes no dinner at all. You lived alone, in your little apartment which you could hardly afford, and had no family left since the war.
You remembered the good times, of course, that was the 'sweet' in all of the bitter. Remembering your mother's baking and the smell of sugar cookies and Christmas cake. The lavish real evergreen tree that made the ridiculously high ceilings of your apartment look low. The gifts, the dinner, curling up with a mug of hot milk on the plush sofa. You even thought of your Christmases back in District twelve. Never too fancy, never too many gifts, but a family, the Covey, music, a home.
Life after the war had been cruel to you. What once was a young girl, with a family wealthy enough to move her to the Capitol, had become a young woman with no one to turn to, and not a penny to her name. You didn't have the luxury of pretending like everything was fine, like you had your family's riches to fall back on. Everyone at the Academy had found out when you'd had to ask for a scholarship loan to pay for your tuition, one which you'd never be able to pay back.
That was something you'd always envied of a particular classmate of yours. Coriolanus Snow. Crassus Snow's baby boy. You knew he must've been penniless, as poor as a church mouse. But maybe you only knew that because your own circumstances were much the same. Coriolanus was smart about it, always looking classy from an outside perspective, never asking for money, never acting hungry. But, when looked into closer, you could easily see cracks.
His shoes were the same ones he'd had since first year at the Academy, and they must've been achingly too small for him. He'd eat only small amounts at school and pretend he was full up, but you'd seen him once, with no shirt on, and his ribs stuck out like a sore thumb. Wherever there was an academic prize that involved money, he was always trying his hardest to win, pulling out every stop, but if there was no monetary prize, he'd only do half as much.
You saw right through his act, always had, but instead of exposing him to everyone else out of jealousy, you'd helped him out whenever you could. Us poor orphans have to stick together, right?
You'd share food, give eachother your spare trolley tokens so you wouldn't have to walk the hour back to the Corso, discuss strategy over how to win said academic prizes, and split them with eachother when you did.
You'd become close friends, over the years, even although it was kept strictly as a secret from all of your other classmates. And so, when you heard a familiar voice floating in through your window, you smiled to yourself.
"Y/N?" You could only faintly hear him calling from the street, but you started up from your bed and yanked the window open fully so that you could hang out of it.
There he was, Coriolanus Snow, in all of his glory. Blonde curls full of white snowflakes, wrapped in what seemed to be a ratty fur coat, chittering away. You laughed when you saw him. "Coryo, what are you doing out? You'll freeze to death!"
"Wanted to come and make sure you were okay." He called back, and then looked around warily, almost as though he was checking the coast was clear before asking, "Can I come up?"
You nodded, "I'll buzz you in." And then you swiftly closed the window. Goosebumps had raised on your arms and chest and you'd be paying for the next year if you had to put the furnace on.
You crossed to your bedroom door, made your way down the hall, and pressed the buzzer, which always made the most abhorrent sound when it let whoever was outside, in.
You waited by the door, and soon enough, Coryo was coming bounding up the stairs, fur coat now in his hand, nose and cheeks bright red. You let him in and laughed as you took his coat from him and hung it up. "It's Tigris'. I don't have anything warm enough, but it's the rattiest old thing I've ever seen."
"It's quite something." You turned back to see him shivering, arms folded around his body to try to warm himself. "Oh, you poor lamb."
Your Covey accent had never faded. The Capitol had always looked down upon you for it, but Coryo blushed every time you spoke. "I'm fine, I'll be fine."
"But it's freezing in here, too. Come here." You opened the small cupboard in the hallway, which held a few random seasonal items, and pulled out two, old blankets. You smiled at Coriolanus as you draped one around his shoulders, and he smiled back, close enough to you that his breath was hitting your cheek.
"Thank you, honey." Coriolanus' eyes scanned your apartment, peering through the living room door and then your bedroom door, and he frowned when he saw just one Christmas decoration - your tiny little tree. His family was poor, but Tigris was creative, and they still managed to uphold some joy in the form of tinsel and stockings at Christmas time.
"What?" Your face dropped and you looked worried, placing a tender hand on Coryo's blanket-clad shoulder. "You look so sad."
"You just..." Coryo's voice trailed off, unsure of how to say what he meant without hurting, or offending you. "I mean, you don't have too much, do you?"
"Well, I thought you knew that." A crease had appeared between your brows and you sounded upset with him, dropping your hand from where it had previously sat. Coryo corrected himself quickly, shaking his head at you.
"No, I'm sorry, that came out wrong." He racked his brain for something to say that would make you feel better. The look on your face made his chest sting. "I don't know, would you want to spend Christmas with us?"
You cocked your head to the side, looking at him as though he was going insane. Maybe he was, he wasn't even sure what he was saying. He closed his eyes and ran and hand over his face, which brightened you up a bit. You laughed, and he laughed, and he felt his shoulders relax. Why was he so nervous? He never got nervous, not like this, anyway.
"We don't have much either, but it'd mean you weren't alone. I know how you feel, especially at this time of year." Coryo noticed the slight tinge of pink that had dawned your cheeks, and, on a whim, he reached out and, with two freezing fingers, tilted your head back so that you were looking at him. "You could come to our house, Tigris makes bread pudding, and we managed to get some beef mince this year, too. Maybe you could even sleep over tonight, and we could wake up together-"
"Coryo, you're rambling." You stopped him, you knew he could go on for hours, and, although the offer was tempting, and you enjoyed the idea of spending even more time around Coryo, you planned on turning him down. "Thank you. That sounds lovely, but I'd never want to intrude. No, the Covey wrote me to let me know they've installed a telephone in the town hall, I can call them for a couple minutes tomorrow, lift my spirits. I'll be fine."
You waved him off, and pulled your mother's old silk robe tighter around your body. You started towards the living room door, expecting Coryo to follow, maybe you'd sit together on the flaky sofa and talk for a few hours, but he didn't let you get far. He snatched your hand from your side, and when you turned to look at him, his blue eyes were filled with concern.
"Call them from our house." He wasn't going to let you off without a yes. "Please. I can't leave you alone, that's not fair. Plus, I've always wanted to meet them, haven't I?"
You took a breath and adjusted your hand in his. It felt nice, to have him be so affectionate. You could admit you were closer than most friends, the line between friendship and love always slightly blurred and maybe crossed over on more than one occasion, but it always felt good to have him near.
After careful consideration, and a few reassuring rubs at the back of your hand from Coryo, you finally gave in. "Are you sure? I don't mean to be a pain-"
"You're not. You could never be." He stepped closer and took your other hand, close enough to you that, if he leaned forward, your foreheads would be touching. "Honest, Tigris will be happy to have someone other than Grandma'am."
"And what about Grandma'am? I'm District, I don't think she'll like that-"
"She respects your family. It's not the right way, I know, but there are very few district people she doesn't mind. She knew your parents, always says they were very respectable people." A grimace crossed Coryo’s face, talking about his Grandma’am’s views in front of you. He’d agreed with her for most of his life, but that was until he met you, and that Covey accent finally made snow melt and changed his mind.
"Really?" Your face had lit up. The idea of anyone from the Capitol accepting you, no, respecting you, was something you’d only ever dreamt of.
"Really." Coryo smiled, now, and then he joked, “What an honour, huh? To have Grandma'am like you."
"An honour, indeed." You laughed. You let go of one of his hands, but kept hold of the other. You started to drag him with you towards your bedroom, but Coryo stayed put, confused. He’d never been inside your bedroom, he assumed it was off limits. You laughed at him, “I’m not trying to get you into bed, darlin’, if I was you’d know about it.”
His face turned a deep shade of red and you approached him and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “Coryo, I’m messin’. I’m just going to pack a bag, you can come if you like, but if I’m making you uncomfortable you’re welcome to sit in the living room.”
“No. Oh, no. You’re not making me uncomfortable.” Coryo let you lead him to your bedroom, now, and he looked around the almost bare room as though it was a place of worship. There was hardly anything in there, a mattress on the floor, a small, oil lamp positioned next to it. A couple of books, a wardrobe which held your school uniform and your mother’s old performance dresses, which you wore every day you could. He was just happy to be somewhere so intimate, somewhere you allowed only the closest people in your life. “Sorry.”
You got that cheeky look on your face, now. The one that Coryo loved so much. “It’s okay. I know you’re a virgin, anyway-”
“Hey!” He smacked you with the blanket and you giggled and smacked him back. “That’s none of your business.”
“Oh, but it’s obvious.”
-
The walk to Coriolanus’ apartment wasn’t long, but it felt different. You’d never made it obvious that you were close, before, but you walked together, through the snow, chatting away like you’d been best friends for years - which was the case, and now people knew. Even when you passed classmates or their families, you’d both smile and wave, and it felt good to know that people would know.
“Are you excited to meet Grandma’am?” Coryo joked. Your cheeks balled when you laughed and gripped onto his hand in an overdramatic way. Coryo thought his heart might’ve burst.
You bounded forward, still holding his hand, and walked backwards in front of him. “Oh, the most excited. I’m sure she’s got great gossip.”
“Only the best. Did you know she had a fling with the President’s brother when they were in school?” Coryo whispered dramatically, and you gave him an equally as theatrical gasp.
“I hope she’ll tell me all about it.”
You arrived at the apartment cold but happy, noses bright red but laughing. Fingers freezing but locked together. You felt pure joy for the first time in a long time, and Coryo decided he could get used to this.
When Tigris opened the door, you knew this was the right decision. Her face lit up, and she clapped her hands together excitedly as soon as she saw you. She didn’t even bother to greet Coriolanus, just started straight for you, “Oh my! It’s so lovely to see you. Please tell me you’re staying for Christmas!”
“I sure am. Coryo managed to convince me.” You looked up to the boy stood beside you, who’d already been smiling down at you with such love in his eyes.
“Well, we are so happy to have you. Lucky to have you.” Tigris squeezed your shoulder and then stepped to the side, gesturing to both of you. “Come in, please.”
You could’ve sobbed, the feeling of being wanted, not being alone. Coryo touched a comforting hand to your arm as you stepped into the foyer, once grand, but now cracked and tired. Tigris took your coat, and the Grandma’am greeted you with open arms.
“Your dress is beautiful.” Tigris commented, and you did a quick twirl to show off the lace-up detail in the back.
“Thank you, it was my mama’s. I try to wear her dresses whenever I can.” You smoothed the ruffles of your dress, looking down lovingly at the shades of green tulle, handmade by your mother herself.
“And so you should.” Tigris reached out to touch your ruffles, too, and she smiled at you as she did so. “She had great taste.”
Coryo led you through to his bedroom, to let you drop your bag off and familiarise yourself with the place. “Thank you.” You muttered as you placed your bag on his windowsill. “For letting me come here, letting me stay. Your family are just beautiful.”
“Yeah, they’re great.” Coryo stood from his bed to join you as you looked out of his window onto the snow covered Corso, at a fresh snow angel and a family you could hear laughing from the penthouse. “I’m sure the Covey are, too. And your parents.”
“My parents were. And the Covey are. I hope one day, you can meet them.” You turned to him, that crease in your brow back.
“I’d love to.” Coryo took hold of your hand, noticing that you’d taken up an unsettled look. “Should we get some air? Grandma’am keeps roses on the roof, might be nice to see them in the snow.”
You nodded. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”
The roof was nice, you could see the entirety of the Capitol from up there - roofs engulfed in white, and the snow-covered roses were such a beautiful sight. You plucked one of the stems, after Coryo said you could, and simply stared at the thing. Back home, flowers were everywhere, they felt like warm hugs, like trips to the lake, like your mama. It was rare that you saw them growing in the Capitol.
“It’s beautiful up here.” You commented as you took a seat at the edge of the rooftop. “You can see the whole city.”
“It is beautiful.” Coryo sat next to you, shoulders touching, pinky fingers travelling closer to eachother and then pulling back, looking forward but watching eachother out of the corner of your eyes. “You’re beautiful.”
Coryo had let it slip, and he took in a deep breath and held it for a while after speaking. You tried not to let your smile get too wide, worried it would border on psychotic-looking if you let it reach it’s full potential. Beautiful, Coriolanus Snow called you beautiful.
“Oh.” Was all you could say, quietly, only loud enough to be picked up by the soft breeze and carried over to Coriolanus. “Thank you, Coryo. I think you’re beautiful.”
Coriolanus looked down and laughed, shaking his head at you. You let your pinkies intertwine, now. “You’re just saying that because I said it.”
“I mean it. Anyone would be stupid not to think it.” Then all of your fingers were locked together. And you sighed and let your head fall onto Coryo’s shoulder. He smiled to himself, and then, in a quick surge of confidence, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and decided to speak his mind.
“You know I love you, right?" He blurted out. He didn’t regret it, but he was nervous, now. If he’d learned anything this Christmas Eve, it was that you made him nervous.
"I know." You closed your eyes and breathed in the cold air, “I love you, too."
"But I mean, really love you." Coryo took his hand from yours and, instead, draped his arm around your back, fingers reaching up to fidget with your hair. “You're very easy to fall in love with."
"Hm." You hummed and removed your head from his shoulder to look up at him. Your cheeks were flushed and your breath made little clouds in between your two faces. “I think you're very easy to fall in love with, too, Coryo."
You were so close, noses touching, Coryo’s hand still twirling one lock of your hair around and around. And then your lips were on his, his hand gripping the back of your neck, kissing you with a hunger, a passion, you’d never felt before. Not feverishly, not sexual in nature, just real, raw passion. You’d meant what you said. Coriolanus Snow was incredibly easy to love, and you did. You loved him. And he loved you. Nothing else had ever seemed to simple in your entire life.
Coryo couldn’t imagine a world, now, where your lips hadn’t been on his. Where you hadn’t called him beautiful. He was on a high, an all time high, he was convinced. Snow lands on top.
The snowflakes continued falling, landing on your heads, noses, the roses. And you let them, with no resentment, no upset. Because Coryo was there, everything was easy, now.
239 notes · View notes
journey-to-the-attic · 3 months
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3rd anniversary req 21: [DDVD] levi, satan, beel / babysitting
ao3 link
note: i tried to incorporate most of what the request form said - hope you're happy with this, anon! this one's just precious <3
∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎
“Behave,” Lucifer says sternly, and shuts the door.
Levi exchanges a look with Satan. For some reason, he gets the feeling that Lucifer was talking to them, and not the toddler clinging to the back of Satan’s leg.
He cranes his neck down. IK is already staring wistfully at the door. Satan would probably compare her to a lost kitten; Levi thinks the look is more akin to a sad Lotan.
“Beel’s in the kitchen,” He says to Satan in an undertone, and the two of them hastily adjourn to three-sevenths of a family meeting.
Couldn't Lucifer have picked any other day for whatever fancy reservation he's made for their date? It's clear he doesn't entirely trust the only three babysitters available. He knows this because Lucifer added all three of them to a hastily-made, very secret group chat a few hours ago - to warn them of what would happen if anything went wrong. 
The three of them sit silently around the kitchen table for about five minutes. Finally, Satan clears his throat, and looks at Levi.
“You’re the oldest here,” He says. “You should know what to do.”
Levi grimaces. “Well, I don’t.”
The three of them look to IK, who is sitting solemnly in the head chair. None of them know where Lucifer keeps her booster seat, so she can only just about see over the edge of the table. (IK usually protests about having to use it, so she seems happy with the situation.)
“It can’t be that hard,” Satan mutters, mostly to himself. “If Lucifer can handle it.”
Usually that means no one else can, Levi thinks, but wisely chooses not to say this out loud. But it can’t be that different to what we usually do… right? I mean, I guess we don’t really do the proper care stuff. That’s Zhao’s thing. We just hang out with her…
“Pom-pom,” IK mumbles.
Satan blinks, then tilts his head to the side and leans forward. “Sorry?”
“Pom-pom,” IK repeats, louder this time.
“I don’t… what’s ‘pom-pom’? Is it one of your toys?”
“Hmph,” IK says, then hops down from her chair and toddles out of the kitchen with such authority that none of them think to stop her.
It takes Beel’s phone going off to bring them back to reality. Lucifer has sent them, rather aptly, a parenting book. Satan decides to stay behind to read it while Beel and Levi are sent to wrangle the kid - and figure out what she’s actually after.
IK hasn’t made it far. She still can’t get up the stairs on her own, nor can she open any of the doors without full-body ramming into them, so she’s only managed to make it a little way down the corridor.
“Pom-pom,” She insists when they catch up with her.
“We don’t have pom-pom,” Levi says a little breathlessly, even though he really didn’t go that fast. “Can’t you just tell us what you want?”
IK cannot, apparently. She leads them on a merry chase in about five circles around the ground floor (she kicks every time they try to pick her up) before finally sitting down in a huff in the middle of the living room. Levi’s secretly a little grateful for the chance to rest his legs - this is the most he’s moved in the last month.
“The floor’s cold,” Beel says patiently, attempting to pick her up. IK manages to wiggle cleanly out of his hands and goes straight back to the ground. “Come on, let’s go sit somewhere comfy, okay?”
“Pom-pom,” IK mumbles, beginning to look a little tearful. The look on her face makes it clear: if Lucifer was here, he’d totally know what to do by now. 
It’s, quite frankly, unfair. He’s already good at everything else. Levi had really expected childcare to be the one thing to trip him up.
Situations like these really call for Asmo. Once again, Levi finds himself wondering why in hell he’s here.
“IK,” He tries - unable to muster one of Asmo’s many pet names and resorting instead to sounding as pathetic as possible, in hopes that she’ll take pity on him. “IK, c’mon. Wanna come see Henry? You like Henry.”
Beel tries to pick her up again. IK gives him a severe, uncannily Lucifer-like look, then stubbornly slips down until she's lying flat on her back.
“We need some blocks,” Satan announces, walking into the room with far too much confidence. “Do we have blocks?”
“Of course we don’t,” Levi says miserably, about two minutes away from lying on the floor himself. “Why would we?”
“Then I will go find some blocks,” Satan says decisively, and walks straight back out again.
IK stays on the ground, staring blankly up into the ceiling. She doesn’t look as if she’s throwing a tantrum so much as she looks like she’s lost all hope in the world. It kind of hurts his heart.
He glances up at Beel. His brother’s brow is deeply furrowed in thought. After a moment, he sits down, and carefully pushes his palm underneath IK’s head. If she won’t get up, at least he can give her a pillow.
Satan comes back with a crate that he says Lucifer’s been keeping in his study (which is supposed to be locked right now, but that’s on Lucifer for not using a strong enough charm), and produces a set of patterned blocks that he attempts to gently encourage IK to play with. All IK does is hold them limply.
“Maybe she needs a nap?” Beel suggests, but IK doesn’t seem to like that idea. In fact, after hearing the word, she appears to start deliberately keeping her eyes open for as long as possible out of spite.
Satan looks something up on his phone - steadfastly refusing to call Lucifer - then abruptly hurries off again. He comes back with some cardboard, a ball of wool, and a pair of scissors. IK lifts her head to watch him with interest as he sets about snipping and tying. Finally:
“There you are,” Satan announces triumphantly, and presents IK with a little green ball of fluff. “A pom-pom.”
IK sits up and holds it blankly. Then she shakes her head.
The dismay on Satan’s face would be funny if Levi didn’t feel terrible for him. “No? Is it the wrong colour?”
“Pom-pom,” IK says sadly.
“Fine…” He reaches out to take it back, only for IK to snatch the pom-pom-that-isn't-the-right-pom-pom back. “Hey. I thought you didn’t want it.”
“Mine,” She mumbles stubbornly, and dodges his next grab as well. “Mine!”
“But it’s not your pom-pom, is it?” Satan asks, now beginning to grin. “Come on, give it back.”
“No!” IK scrambles to her knees, then shuffles to hide behind Beel’s broad back. “Mine!”
“I made it! Give it back!”
“NO!”
Clutching the pom-pom, IK jumps to her feet - and, wobbling unsteadily from side to side, full-on sprints out of the living room.
Satan reacts first, almost as if he were expecting it. Hauling himself to his feet, he practically gallops after her, leaving Beel and Levi in stunned silence, still sitting helplessly on the floor.
“I didn’t know she could go that fast,” Levi says after a moment. “Do you think Mammon’s been teaching her?”
“We should probably go after them…” Beel glances down at the crate. “Should we bring the blocks?”
Satan has cornered IK in the library when they catch up with them. Even as they sidle awkwardly through the door, she looks sharply around the room, spots the still-ajar door to Lucifer’s office, and promptly zooms inside. Satan, of course, doesn’t hesitate to do the same.
Levi follows just in time to see him double-evade her around the desk, then shoot forward and sweep her cleanly off the ground - “Got you!”
“No!” IK insists, even though she’s giggling so loudly that the word is barely discernible.
“No? Certainly looks like you’re— ow!”
Something has flown out of Lucifer’s desk and propelled itself directly into Satan’s face - so hard that he’s shoved backwards into a cabinet and knocks a bottle off its stand. IK does not help things grabbing a fistful of his hair to keep herself steady.
“What the—” On closer inspection, the thing that came out of the desk appears to be a little stuffed pigeon. As Satan spins around, attempting to regain his bearings, it folds its wings and jabs its little felt beak at his eyes.
“What do we do?!” Levi yelps, hands braced to do something, though he hasn’t the faintest idea what.
IK isn’t giggling so much as she is wailing now - Satan, though still reeling, has enough sense to pass her off to Levi before attempting to wave the pigeon off. His arms windmill around so wildly that it’s only a matter of time before he—
“Oof!” Levi manages to shield the back of IK’s head with his hand, but his own nose isn’t so lucky. “Watch where your hands are going!”
“I’m getting attacked!” Satan snarls, and looks one peck away from zapping the pigeon into dust. “Do something!”
“What am I supposed to do?!”
Beel, at this point finally stepping into the situation, clearly has more wits about him than either of them. He surveys the situation, steps forward, and plucks the pigeon cleanly from the air.
It goes straight to ferociously attacking its fingers. Without the momentum of flight on its side, though, its blows are virtually harmless. At this, Levi hesitantly lowers his hand from IK’s head.
“This definitely has Lucifer written all over it,” Satan grunts, a hand pressed over his eye. “Smug bas… ahem. Am I bleeding?”
Levi leans over and peers at his face for a moment. “Nah, you’re good.”
He lowers his hand, but he doesn’t look any less mutinous. “Who gave him the idea of putting toy security in his desk?”
“I don’t think it’s security,” Beel says, holding the pigeon’s head still with one hand and reading its label with the other. “I think it’s a toy for IK. See?”
The company name does check out. That doesn’t explain why it comes to life and attacks people, though.
“Well, it’s not a spell I’ve seen anywhere before, so don’t look at me,” Satan grumbles.
Beel inspects the plush pigeon for another moment, then (still carefully holding it still) holds it out to IK. She looks frightened - but, under his reassuring gaze, slowly reaches out, and bumps a little fist to its beak.
The pigeon immediately stills. Levi would’ve thought he’d just hallucinated the whole thing if it weren’t for the red mark on Satan’s forehead.
“Oh,” says Satan himself, realisation dawning. “He enchanted it. That’s…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, but clearly he isn’t angry anymore. Beel gently presses the pigeon into IK’s arms, and it comes briefly to life again to tuck its head lovingly against her cheek.
“That isn’t an easy enchantment,” Satan murmurs, wiping his brow. “He’s probably not done testing it.”
“Looks like it works fine to me,” Levi says, watching IK attempt to feed the pigeon her green pom-pom. “Do you like it, IK?”
“Mmm,” IK says, flapping the pigeon’s wings. The pom-pom falls out of her arms and lands softly on the floor.
She notices its absence after a moment and makes a sound of dismay. Satan huffs, then stoops to pick it up for her.
“At least you like it,” He mutters, passing it back to her. “Are you sure it’s not your pom-pom?”
IK shakes her head seriously. She gazes at him for a moment, then mumbles something and makes a gesture in his general direction. Levi obligingly leans forward.
“What now?” Satan sighs, but ducks down to her level anyway. “Are you going to hit me, too?”
Far from it. IK pats his cheek until he stops frowning, then stretches up to the red mark on his brow and gives it a kiss.
“...oh.”
If Levi didn’t know better, he’d say Satan was dangerously close to tears. His brother clears his throat and offers a slightly shaky smile. “Thanks.”
IK hums, then pulls both pigeon and pom-pom tight to her chest, and tucks her head under Levi’s chin. Before he can stop himself, he lets out a sharp squeak, like a poorly-oiled door.
“I think it’s time for a nap now,” Beel says, watching her with a little smile. “Let’s go.”
“Okay,” He agrees, voice quivering, and follows him out of the office. Satan stays behind briefly to shut the drawer the pigeon flew out of, but doesn’t bother re-locking the door.
The crate of toys is still sitting in the middle of the library. Levi gingerly lowers himself into an armchair and lets IK figure out how she wants to sleep; Beel sits down on the floor directly opposite him and contents himself with watching her.
Satan stands silently for a while, then settles beside the toy crate and starts methodically stacking the blocks himself. Levi watches him, too afraid of disturbing IK to move.
“She’ll probably be hungry when she wakes up,” says Beel, setting his chin on his knees. “I think there are some strawberries left in the kitchen.”
“We need something more substantial than fruit.” Satan sets the final block on his tower, then promptly knocks the whole thing over and starts again. “Sandwiches, maybe…”
IK isn't asleep for long before she abruptly startles awake again. Levi opens his mouth to say something sappy that'd usually come out of Asmo - then quickly realises that something's up. 
"What?" Satan asks, sitting up. 
"I don't..."
IK is practically ramrod-straight in his arms. Her eyes are open, but she stares directly ahead of her, far into the distance.
Beel lifts his head and rises to his knees. "Give her here."
Levi can't do anything but acquiesce. IK doesn't respond at first, but almost as soon as she leaves Levi's arms, she takes in a sharp breath, and begins to whimper. 
"Wait—" Instinctively, he tries to snatch her back, but Beel holds firm. "Why... what's wrong?!"
"Nightmare," says Beel shortly. "Belphie used to do the same thing. Can you go get some water?"
It might be the fastest Levi has ever gone to do something. Beel doesn't get IK to drink it - instead, he dips a finger in, and draws a streak across her forehead. At this, IK pauses, eyes wide. 
Satan darts to pick up the pigeon from where it's fallen to the floor. It begins to move as soon as he presses it to IK's face - fluttering its wings and gently grazing its cheek against hers. Levi imagines he hears it coo. 
"Hi," Beel murmurs, doing the same trick with the water again This time, IK makes a sound of protest. "Don't worry, it's gone now."
IK mumbles something and twists away, attempting to wipe her forehead. Beel smiles and does it for her. "...there. That's how you know she's awake again."
"Bad dream, huh?" Satan clicks his tongue sympathetically, then leans down and kisses her forehead - returning the favour from earlier. "Are you still tired?"
She blinks slowly, then makes a quiet noise of affirmation. Beel nods seriously. "You can sleep again, then. We'll keep you safe, okay? Your dad will be home soon."
"Okay," IK whispers, and closes her eyes again.
———
Some time later, Belphie gets home. By that weird twin-sense he shares with Beel, he comes straight to the library. Since IK went back to sleep, Levi's taken a turn on the building blocks, for want of something to do. 
“Do you know where IK’s pom-pom is?” Satan asks without looking up from his book.
“Huh?” Belphie drops his bag with a loud yawn. “What d’you mean, where?”
“She wouldn’t stop asking about it.” Levi precariously sets one tower on top of another. “We didn’t know what it was.”
“Oh, she wants pom-pom? That’s easy,” Belphie says with infuriating nonchalance, then wanders across the room, where IK is beginning to stir in Beel’s lap. “Hey, twinkle-star.”
The three of them can only watch in dawning realisation as Belphie crouches down, shifts seamlessly into demon form, then offers the end of his tail like it’s some kind of toy. IK blinks at him, then scrambles up and makes a grab for the fluffy bit at the end.
“Oh.” says Beel a little weakly. “You were talking about Belphie’s tail the whole time?”
“Pom-pom,” IK says happily.
67 notes · View notes
dira333 · 2 months
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Bakugo x Reader, 6 parts, Timeskip AU
Not everyone is born with a Soulmark. But even if you are, it doesn't make things easier.
Warnings: None, Angst to Fluff.
Chapters are going to be posted daily - Masterlist
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Part 3
Martini Extra Dry is not the drink he’d pick to go with Extra Spicy Wings. Doesn’t matter though because you’re slurping down the Cocktail like it’s the Nectar of the Gods, grinning as you bite into your food. 
Whatever has happened today, you haven’t yet spilled the beans.
Not that he needs you to. Not that he wants to know.
He does. He does want to know. 
Katsuki would never call himself curious. He doesn’t care what his friends are doing with their life.
He just hates when they do things wrong.
Like Kaminari, who almost ruined his life by getting married to that… person. Or Kirishima, who convinced himself to be not enough for the one person he’d always be enough for. He still feels like he owes Mina his life for the way she handled that. 
Or Izuku… but no, he’s not going to think about Izuku now.
“How was your childhood like?” You ask, eyes on All Might poster that’s framed by the large windows on the far wall.
“Huh?”
“Your childhood.” You put the gnawed-off wing into the bowl with the others, your hand hovering over your plate, picking out the next one. “How was it like?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Just…” You shrug, but it feels forced. “Just wanted to know.”
“How was yours like?”
“Ah…” You wave your head from side to side. “Boring, I guess. I wasn’t that social as a kid.”
“You? Can’t believe it.”
You grin. “Better believe it. I didn’t need friends. I had my Quirk and my imagination to keep me company.”
“Did your Quirk keep you company because you had no friends or did you push them away in favor of being alone?” 
You sober up quickly at his words, setting your drink down with a thunderous look on your face.
“Shit.” He grinds out. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.”
“Yeah,” you stare into your glass. “You did. Give me a moment.”
So he does. Katsuki learned to sit in the uncomfortableness of his feelings in his youth. Doesn’t mean he likes doing it.
“I grew up outside of Musutafu. My Quirk’s nice, but pretty useless in the countryside. I think… I think I always dreamt of something bigger than me. And no one there even tried to understand me.”
“That sucks,” he says and you laugh, the tone high and free.
“Yeah.” You agree. “That sucks.”
Silence settles again, like the first real blanket of snow. He moves, picks up his empty glass and gets up from the Couch.
“Where are you going?”
“Getting another drink.”
“Oh, me too.” You down the rest and hand the glass over with a grin. “Can you do anything other than Martini?”
He scoffs. “Can a dog pee at a tree? Course. What do you want?”
You name something ridiculously fancy. Katsuki doesn’t have to check to know he’s missing at least one ingredient.
“Get down to earth, you pimp. I’ll make you an Espresso Martini.”
“So… just another Martini then.” Your grin is teasing now, and he reaches out, dragging his sweaty hand over your hair. 
“Be nice.” He grumbles, stomach clenching as the air shifts around him. He can see in your eyes that you’ve noticed it too.
If he’d be anyone else, Katsuki might have acted upon it. The attraction. The need to touch you, even when it’s just to tease. 
But he’s him. So he does what he does best. 
“So, my childhood…” He starts, turning toward the kitchen. “My childhood was great.” If he sounds like he’s boasting, he is. 
“Really?”
“You’re second-guessing me?” He turns to glare and you laugh, draped over the curve of the Couch. Damn you for looking so cozy.
“My parents loved me. I got an amazing Quirk and early on too. I barely had enough time for my two hobbies, being awesome and collecting All Might memorabilia.”
“What about Izuku?”
The question shoots up his spine like electricity, paralyzing him for a solid second before he can breathe again. Yet, he’s unable to turn, to look at you.
“What about him?” He asks, watching the lights on the coffee machine flicker to life. 
“Your dad talked about him today,” you add. “Not… Nothing much, we were having a meeting and he’s got this picture of the two of you on his desk.”
“Let me guess, he’s missing a tooth in it?” God, he remembers that picture. He’d hated standing still for it, Aunt Inko standing just out of frame, waving at him with her broad smile and soft features while his mother had taken the picture, griping about his scowl.
“I’m not sure, I didn’t look at it that closely.” It doesn’t sound like a lie. 
Katsuki buys himself some time with making the coffee, the machine too loud to talk.
Then he has to shake, brows furrowed as he forces himself not to turn and look at you.
But then he has to, the drinks in his hands as he walks back.
Your face is open, your eyes warm. Just looking at you twists his insides uncomfortably.
-
“I used to be a bully,” he confesses, staring into the depths of his glass. “I’m not proud of it.”
You don’t say anything, but he can feel your eyes on him.
He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know why… No, that’s a lie. I know why. I just…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” You say, hand reaching out to touch him. But he can’t take that right now, neither the softness nor the warmth. He moves away, swallowing harshly.
“I apologized to him.” He explains. “And while I didn’t deserve his forgiveness, it’s Izuku. He’s just like that.”
“And now?”
“Now?” He laughs. “We’re best friends. Still want to deck him sometimes, especially when he does stupid shit, like flinging himself off a skyscraper, but… I’d die for him.”
“Wow,” you breathe out. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend like that.”
His head snaps over. Your eyes are twinkling, your smile soft and a little teasing. You’re offering him an out, a different topic, away from all this heaviness. 
Why did he open up like that anyway? He’s known you for a month and it’s not like you had to fight side by side like the rest of his friends.
“It’s not my fault you’re shit at picking friends.”
“Hey!” You laugh. “You don’t even know them. Ami… Well, Ami’s got the big brain. She once told me that if she has the time to jump in front of a bullet for me, I have the time to jump away from it.”
“True.” He grins, finally taking a sip of his drink. “You should listen to her more often.”
“She’s also into RealSteel.”
“Nevermind, she’s got no taste.”
-
“Hey,” Kirishima pats the doorframe as a way of knocking, waving a bottle of water at him. “Time for a drink?”
Katsuki snorts, catching the bottle with ease. “At this time of day? You disgust me.”
Kirishima snickers, lounging into one of the comfier seats at Katsuki’s office.
“Are you coming by this Friday?”
“What’s up this Friday?” Katsuki rips the cap of his bottle and downs half of the bottle. “Wait, is it that Mario Kart Tournament Kaminari has been raving about?”
“Wow, you remembered. Are you coming? Mina’s going crazy over the food options, despite Sato agreeing to bring all the sweet snacks.”
“No one wants to eat sweets during a Mario Kart Tournament. You need something salty with the beer.”
Kirishima grins. Katsuki huffs. “Fine, I’ll make something.” He hesitates for a second.
“Would it be okay if I brought my roommate? Depends if she’s free.”
Red eyes widen. The grin following is enormous. 
“It’s not like that,” Katsuki defends himself. “She’s nice and I think she’d get along well with you guys.”
“I mean, I don’t disagree, but are you sure? About it not being like that? You’re an attractive guy, I’m sure.”
“It’s not like that!” Katsuki repeats. “I have a Soulmate, remember?”
Kirishima frowns. “I know, but… she could be it, right?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why? Because you’re attracted to her?”
He scoffs. “No!”
“So you are attracted to her?”
“It doesn’t matter, okay?”
Kirishima laughs. “It does, you know. You know you can date someone even if they’re not your Soulmate. I mean, be honest about it, that’s for sure, but it can take you ages to find your mate, if even. Why wait if love is right in front of you?”
“Easy for you to say. You found them in Junior High.”
The redhead sobers up. “Sorry. But still…”
Katsuki waves him off. “I don’t want to talk about it. Are you just here to ask for my cooking expertise or do you plan on working too? Because I have this case I need to get to.”
“Is that an invitation to help you?” Kirishima grins, taking the switch of topics in stride. “Because I’m all for it.”
- x -
“Fantastic.” Masaru nods approvingly, flicking through your designs. “Oh… is that… does that look like the blouse you’re wearing right now?”
“Yeah,” you nod along. “It’s one of my favorite designs, I made quite a few of them, actually. I like the sleeves so much.”
“Amazing. Would it be okay- well, no, I can’t ask you to-”
“Should I take it off?” You ask, guessing where this is going. “It’s no problem, I’m wearing a camisole underneath.”
“Well, if it’s really no problem. Oh, Mitsuki, come in.” He waves at his wife and you stop unbuttoning your blouse.
“What do you think of this design for Creati? It’s pretty similar to the blouse she’s wearing right now, so we could do a try-on right now.”
Mitsuki examines you, her gaze critical. “Yeah, it’s okay.” She finally agrees. “The color needs to be changed tough,” she insists with another look at your design. “We need to bring out her eyes more. Are you wearing something under that?”
“Err, yes.” You take the blouse off, gingerly handing it to Mitsuki. “I know she’s usually dressed in dark red or light green, but I think we could switch it up a little with a deep, vibrant blue. We don’t want her to become too one-dimensional.”
Masaru lights up at your words, tough Mitsuki just purses her lips in thought.
“It’s an idea.” She agrees finally before turning to Masaru. “Creati’s Katsuki’s age, right? You think she’d go out with him if I asked nicely?”
Your blood runs cold. Luckily, she’s got her back turned to you, your reaction going unnoticed.
“I don’t think he’d take it lightly if you interfered.”
“Aww, he’d be fine.” She sniffs. “He’s old enough to bring home a girl. If he can’t do that by himself, I have to help him out.”
Masaru smiles softly at that, catching your gaze over his wife’s shoulder.
“You can go. I’ll get the blouse back to you today.”
“Okay,” you nod, turning for the door only to whirl around at the shocked gasp from behind you.
“What?” You ask, panic cutting through the haze in your head. “What?!”
“Your Soulmark!” Mitsuki’s reaching out her hand, grabbing your shoulder rather harshly. “I know this mark!”
“Mitsuki,” Masaru pleads, but she’s not listening, pulling at your shoulder until you turn around.
“No doubt. I know this mark. Girl, you are so lucky!” 
That, finally, gets through to you. Her eyes, as red as Katsukis, are clouded with an almost feral excitement. Her mouth opens, no doubt to tell you the name of your Soulmate. You react on instinct, reaching and pressing both hands on her mouth.
“I don’t want to know,” you gasp out, panic still running up and down your spine, ice-cold, burning-hot. “I don’t want to know!”
“Mitsuki,” Masaru’s hand is on his wife’s shoulder now, pulling her back. “You have to respect her wishes.”
“I don’t!” She argues hotly. “This is about-!” But Masaru interrupts her, keeps the name from getting out yet again.
He pulls her close, not an easy feat, you think, whispering something urgently into her ear as you try to catch your bearings, get out of this room, this situation, this… whatever this mess is.
“We’re talking about your son!” Is the last you hear as the door closes behind you. If only you’d been a little faster. If only you had thought of pressing your hands against your ears as you left.
-
Masaru finds you at your desk, shivering a little under the AC.
“Here,” he hands you your blouse. “Can we talk for a second?”
“I really don’t want to know,” you tell him as sincerely as you can and he smiles. “I know. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
You follow him down the hallway into an empty meeting room, watch with a hammering heart as he closes the door behind him.
“I respect your wishes,” he starts, hands folded in front of him. “And I don’t know how much you heard of my conversation with Mitsuki, but be assured… we don’t really know if the marks are matching. I didn’t see it clearly and it has been quite some time since Mitsuki’s seen the mark she’s referring to. I’m sorry this had to happen. I hope you can…” He sighs. “I hope you can forgive us.” Masaru bows a little awkwardly and you can’t help but join in.
“No, I’m sorry. I… I didn’t want to make such a fuss about it. I just freaked out and-”
“You don’t have to explain. If Mitsuki tries to talk to you about this again, feel free to tell her no. But I’ve talked to her and I’m convinced she understood the importance of it.”
You laugh a little hesitantly. “Okay. I… What did Creati think of the blouse?”
“Oh,” Masaru lights up again. “She loved it. We’re definitely going with that design. And the deep blue? Excellent choice.”
-
The apartment is empty when you arrive, still frazzled, still… You’re not even sure how to call that feeling that’s pressing onto your chest, leaving you unable to breathe.
What if Katsuki’s your Soulmate? The thought of it burns hot under your skin. But then again, did he say that he’s got a Soulmark? You can’t remember him ever mentioning it.
You resort to the internet instead, unable to research this topic out in the open of public transport. Even now your heart’s beating a mile a minute, expecting someone to burst into the room to call you out on it, the absolute audacity to think that Katsuki could be- or Izuku?
But while there are a ton of theories no one can prove anything. Bakugo Katsuki could very well not have a Soulmark at all.
With shaking hands, you change your question. Just the name though.
Izuku Midoriya has a private Instagram account and quite a few articles that hint at him being Deku, so you search for that next.
Deku, Number One Pro Hero and most likely Bakugo’s Half-Brother has a Soulmark. On his shoulder blade too, just like you. That’s a sign, right? You’re not sure if the placement is important too. 
You swipe through article after article, hoping for a picture of any kind or any other confirmation that he’s maybe, just maybe, already found his Soulmate.
What you find, however, is a close-up of his shoulder, the scar tissue still pink and new.
His Soulmark’s lost, just the faintest outline left to be seen. 
If you’d have to guess, though, you’d say it’s roughly the same size as yours.
“Hey, I’m home!” Katsuki’s voice cuts through the whirlwind of your thoughts and emotions and you squeak in panic, throwing your phone through the room. It lands with a thud at the doorstep and you’re just a little too slow to pick it up before him.
“Everything okay?” He asks, grabbing the little device as you shriek like a Banshee.
“Don’t look at it!” You order. “I…” You grasp for a reason that’s not you trying to get a look at his half-brother’s Soulmark. “I got Nudes.”
Katsuki stills, his face turning into void of emotions. “What?!” He asks, voice raspy.
“Yeah,” you nod, deciding to run with this story. “Some… Some guy sent me Nudes. I opened them on accident, that’s why I reacted like this.”
He hands you your phone like it’s burning now, his brows almost vibrating as they furrow and relax, furrow and relax.
“I can handle this, Katsuki,” you remind him, despite the fact that you’re not sure if you can.
-
Your heartbeat has slowed down a little by the time you’re ready to leave, though Katsuki’s brows are still furrowed to the point you worry about him getting a headache.
“You need to fix this,” you tell him, pressing a thumb to the raised skin. “Relax your eyebrows.”
“Why?!” He asks, moving as if to slap your hand away. In the end, he just grabs it softly, holding it almost in place.
“Your friends are going to be scared of you, that’s why.”
He snorts. “They know me already. They better be scared.”
As it turns out, they’re not.
Kirishima, who you already know as his former roommate, pounces on him the moment he steps through the door.
“Almost thought you wouldn’t come,” he teases, skillfully avoiding the sparkles coming off Katsuki’s hands.
“Hey!” He waves at you, grinning from one ear to the other, “Nice to see you again. Come right in.”
“Ooooh, it’s you!” A blond whines from the Couch. “Comfort me, Shinsou!”
“Leave me out of this,” the guy next to him grunts, violent purple hair standing in every direction. “Hey!” He waves.
“Be nice!” A woman chides loudly from the kitchen. Her skin and hair are pink, her eyes mesmerizingly dark. “Hey! Nice to meet you, I’m Mina. These idiots here are Kaminari and Shinsou and you’ll soon meet the rest of the Gang! Bakugo, can you help me with the Snacks?”
“Already on it,” Katsuki grunts next to you, finally managing to push Kirishima away. 
“What do you want to drink?” He asks, leaving for the kitchen as Kirishima leads you over to the Couch.
“Sooo!” Kaminari leans into your space the minute you’re sitting. “Do you just want to watch the tournament or participate?”
“Participate, of course.” You tell him. “Do you think I’m passing a chance to smoke Katsuki?”
Kaminari’s surprised, but only for a second, before he grins just as wide as Kirishima.
“Good luck,” Shinsou tells you in his smokey, deep voice. “They’re all competitive.”
“That’s the thing,” you joke as Kirishima pushes a controller in your hands for a first warm-up round of Mario Kart. “You make more mistakes when you can’t afford to lose.”
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maximumsass · 1 month
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Green Eyes of Envy Pt. 7
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Author’s Note: Hello my Schemmenti fanfic village! Here is part 7 to Green Eyes of Envy! A lot of this is based off my hometown and family dynamics. The hotel thing in the story is a dream of mine cause I did work at this really fancy resort and it has been a dream of mine to have a significant other surprise me with booking a room there, I’m having it happen to the reader and therefore speaking it into existence for myself! Haha! Again Mel’s just this soft puddle of mush when it comes to the reader and wants to take care of the reader as much as possible. I really love their dynamic and it makes my heart so happy writing it! Part 8 is already in the works! Hope y’all enjoy! Sending you all da hugs and positive vibes.
Warning: Very judgmental asshole mother and a very obnoxious amount of fluff!!
Synopsis: You fly to Michigan for thanksgiving break. The thing you don’t expect is to have a full out fight in the middle of a Culver’s with your extremely judgmental mother about you being with Mel. Will you act like everything’s fine and not tell the redhead? Will these lead to you guys breaking up? Or will Mel be your superwoman and swoop in and save the day? Mel definitely has a few surprises up her sleeve for you. Keep reading to find out what goes down in Michigan!
Word Count: 6k
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
——————————————
You get to the airport, your driver gets out and gets your bag for you and then you walk into the airport.
(Y/N): hey baby girl, made it to the airport safely and I’m texting ya like I was instructed to. Now focus on the kids and don’t worry about me. Xoxo
Mel: Glad you made it to the airport safely. Cause if ya didn’t I’d have to get one of my guys to have a word with the driver. Haha. I can focus on the kids and worry about you at the same time! I’m a very talented multitasker. You better still text me when you get through security, when you get on the plane, when you land and when you get home! I promise you aren’t gonna interrupt anything. I know you’re miss independent and that you’re fine but you texting me is to reassure me that you’re good. It’s comforting to me, and I know you love comforting me. You’re one of the most important things in my life now ya know, I gotta know that you’re okay. I miss you already. I love you so much princess.
(Y/N): I love you more my sweet girl. I miss you already too! Fine I’ll text you throughout the day cause I do love comforting you amore. One of the most important things huh? Damnn I must be doing something right! Haha. Have a great day at work gorgeous girl! I’ll text ya later. 😘
You get through security and the plane ride goes smoothly. You text Mel as she instructed, she sends you mushy texts full of how much she loves and misses you already and thank you for updating her. The redhead is truly shocked at how soft and sappy you’ve made her, if Mel before getting together with you would’ve seen the texts she was sending you, she would think who the hell stole my phone! She can’t help but chuckle to herself, it’s so funny how someone could walk into her life and change everything. But she’s so glad you changed everything for her.
You get off the plane and go to baggage claim to get your suitcase. Hands cover your eyes, you feel their arms.
“Becks!!!” You exclaim as you turn and see your sister and you pull her in for a hug.
“Hey big sis! I’ve missed you!!” Becks says as you two hug.
“I’ve missed you more hun!” You say as you pull back to look at her. “Look at you with your cute little outfit! Looking like a snack, breaking hearts and taking names!” You exclaim.
“You know how that’s the way the (Y/L/N)’s girls play!” Your sister exclaims.
“I don’t know girl, Melissa, man I think she’s the one.” You say and look at your sister to see her reaction.
“(Y/N)! Y’all have only been dating for three months!! Do you know how crazy that sounds?!”
She says in a shocked tone.
“Trust me I know. And everything inside me is like you’re being stupid, knock this shit off! But we’ve known each other and have been friends for two years prior to us getting together. Like if we didn’t have that going for us, I’d be like no we’re 100% just getting caught up in everything and I’d end things. But that’s not the situation here.” You explain as you grab your bag and start walking back to where Becks parked.
“Oh that’s right! I always forget that y’all have worked together this whole time. Okay so maybe slightly less crazy. Does she treat you right hun? Cause that’s the number one thing I care about and want for you.” She says looking at you with genuine care.
“Well you know what a stubborn little terror I can be about anyone helping and taking care of me. And she’s just so patient and talks me down where I feel safe enough to be like okay she’s doing this out of love and doesn’t think any less of me. And I don’t have to tell you how much that speaks volumes to her character but to the fact that she really does see me and understand me.” You say with a big smile as you think about how gentle the redhead has been with you in those difficult times.
“Dang (Y/N)! I never thought I’d hear you say that about someone! That’s a big fucking deal. No wonder you think she’s the one.” Becca says as you two get in the car.
“Yeah, she makes me pretty damn happy. I really do love her.” You say as you look at Becca again with a big smile.
“Well good sis! That makes me so happy to hear! I’m happy for you both.” Becca looks at you mirroring your big smile.
You get home, your parents and your brother Jake are so excited to see you. And you get settled and unpacked. You all go out for dinner at Culver’s because it’s one of the top things you miss about living in Michigan, especially the cheese curds!
“So (Y/N) how are things going with work?” Your dad asks.
“Good! I feel like I’ve settled in at Abbott and feel a lot more confident about teaching as well as coming up with class accommodations that fit well with the kiddos and IEP’s are a lot less daunting. And the teachers and staff I work with are all very passionate about creating a great educational experience for the students. Not to mention they’re all super nice.” You say.
“Some of them, a little too nice.” Your mom throws in.
“Look I know that y’all don’t agree with the relationship that I’m in currently. I can understand that me dating someone who is close to your and dad’s age could be uncomfortable for you.” You say.
“It’s not just uncomfortable, it’s downright inappropriate on that woman’s end.” Your mom says.
“Her name is Melissa. And you have to remember I’m a full grown ass woman, this isn’t some creepy ass thing where I’m 18 and she’s 50. It’s crazy to me how hard you’re judging not just her but her and I as a couple, when you don’t even know her and haven’t even listened when I try to tell you how well she treats me and makes me feel really loved and supported.” You say to your mom, forcing yourself not to cry.
“Okay let’s get some shakes!” Jake announces, so that the conversation will end.
You sit there not saying another word. You go home and you go straight to your room. You should’ve known your mom would be like this. You should’ve just canceled the trip, then you’d be with Mel feeling happy and loved instead of feeling judged and miserable.
As if she knew that you were thinking of her, your phone started to ring, the redhead was FaceTiming you. Okay you got to get it together and act like everything’s fine. You take a deep breath and accept the call.
“Oh my god I finally get to see your beautiful face! I’ve missed seeing it all day!” Mel exclaims.
You can’t help but chuckle. “I’ve missed seeing your face too gorgeous as well as seeing other things!” You say with a big smirk.
“Oh is that right?” Mel asks seductively. You nodd with a shy smile. “I knew you were only with me for my body!” She faux accuses you with a smirk.
“You caught me! Just wanted a nice trophy wife on my arm!” You tease.
“And now you’re not playing fair cause you know how it melts my heart when you call me your wife, even if it has trophy in front of it.” Mel says to you with a big smile.
“Mission accomplished then.” You say with a smile.
“You goof! How was your day princess?” Mel asked softly.
“How was work?” You ask trying to deflect.
“You know your deflection tactics don’t work on me miss! Talk to me baby. Please. Let me be there for you, and take care of my gorgeous girl, even if it’s virtually.” She says gently looking at you concerned.
“It’s my fucking mom. We’re having a pleasant dinner, my dad asked me how work was going. I answered and part of what I said, was the people are super nice. And my mom chimes in and says some of them, a little too nice. Which is like does she think that I’m stupid and won’t notice the indirect shots that she fired at you. Which I’m sorry I don’t care if it’s my mother or the pope himself, I will not let anyone talk badly about you in front of me, I’m shutting that shit down so fast! So I decide to be the bigger person and be like I understand why you feel uncomfortable about the situation, trying to empathize with them so that possibly I could get them to listen to me. And then she cuts me off and says you choosing to be with me is inappropriate because I guess in her head she thinks because you’re older, you should know better. I honestly don’t even know what she meant by that! And then I was like it’s literally so crazy that y’all are judging her when you don’t even know her and you won’t listen to me talk about you or us as a couple and how well you treat me and how supported and loved you make me feel. And now I’m in my room feeling so stupid for even coming and thinking my mom could even remotely be supportive or at least non-judgmental about us.” You say equally sounding upset and frustrated.
You watch Melissa close her eyes and take a deep breath, you know that she’s trying to not be upset about what you just said.
“And now I just upset you and you were so happy when you fucking called. Fuck, I literally just suck! You know what you don’t deserve this, like you deserve someone who’s mom isn’t a judgemental controlling freak. I’m already a lot as is it and then, add this to it and it’s just a dumpster fire. I should let you go find someone who is so much easier than me.” You say quietly and look up and blink trying to stop the tears from falling.
“Baby please look at me.” She says gently. You take a deep breath and then look into those gorgeous green eyes of hers. “Good girl. Now first things first, you (Y/N) (Y/L/N) are the love of my life, and if I deserve better then I don’t want it, because you give me all I could ever want and need and so much more. Do you believe me when I say that?” She asks concerned. You nod and then wipe your eyes. “I need to hear you say it angel.” She says softly.
“I believe you when you say that I’m the love of your life.” You say quietly.
“Good girl. Now I will not let things out of our control be the reason why we break up. It’s clear your mom has made up your mind about me and us. All we can do is act like we’ve been acting this whole time we’ve been together, by loving and supporting each other unconditionally. And we’re gonna hope that she will someday see how happy we make each other and to see that the only thing I want and work everyday to do is to love and take care of you like the queen you are. What do you think about that?” Mel asks looking at you.
“I know you’re right. And I know we gotta stay positive that she’ll come around. But I just feel like I’m being a burden to you.” You say quietly.
“Baby you never have been and never will be a burden to me. Everyone has hard shit, lord knows I have mine. You have to hear me when I say that you aren’t any less deserving of love because of that. And you’re ahead of the game compared to a lot of people because you have a woman who wants to love you for the rest of our lives together if you’ll let me.” She says as she looks at you with such love.
“This better not be you proposing to me.” You tease her and then laugh a little.
“Oh trust me there will be no question in your mind, when I propose to you, pretty girl.” She quips back with a smirk.
“I have no doubt amore mio.” You say with a big smile.
“There’s that gorgeous smile, I know and love. We are going to be just fine baby girl, I promise. Do you at least feel a little better amore?” She asks.
“Yeah I feel better now that I talked it out with you angel.” You say with a smile.
“Good! Now you’re not allowed to say the phrase “let you go” to me ever again. Cause you my love are stuck with me for the next 40+ years, so you better get used to it! And I need you to know that hearing that shit come out of your mouth was terrifying and hurtful to me. But I know that wasn’t your intention. (Y/N), I can’t picture my life without you, and if I get my way, I’ll get you for the rest of my life. You know how I do my death grips in the morning when our alarm goes off and I won’t let you go. You better believe I’m doing that metaphorically with our relationship.” She says with a smile.
“I’m sorry that I scared and hurt you baby, I was just so upset. I will never bring up ending our relationship again just because we’re going through something hard. Also you’re a dork!” You giggle. “But I will say I love when you death grip me in the mornings and I love that you’re metaphorically death gripping us together.” You say looking adoringly at her.
“I forgive you gorgeous girl. And you love that I’m a dork!” She quips at you.
“I really do!” You agree with her.
“So now we have to come up with a game plan tomorrow for you. Cause I will not have you be upset on thanksgiving! It’s just not happening! Is there somewhere away from your mom that you and your siblings could hangout at? Also you can have a few drinks throughout the day, that’ll definitely make your mom at least minimally tolerable. But you gotta have gatorades in between drinks, pretty girl. I’ll bug you about it tomorrow and remind you to do that. Aren’t the white ones your favorite?” She asks.
“We could hang out in the basement, she’s in the kitchen the whole day so it’s definitely a safe bet that she won’t come down there. I was planning on drinking. And the whole Gatorade comment cause you know I forget to hydrate when I’m drinking is very cute of you but also stop knowing me so well!” You tease her. “And look at you remembering my favorite flavor!” You exclaim.
“Good then it’s settled youse guys will just hang out in the basement. I will never stop! Besides that’s what makes me such a good girlfriend. You really should think about giving me that promotion to fiancé!” She says with a big smirk.
“I will keep that in mind.” You say smirking back.
You get a text, your DoorDash order is on it’s way. You mouth drops open and you look at the redhead in shock.
“Mel…did you just DoorDash something for me? Hold up… did you just DoorDash that white Gatorade to me?!” You exclaim.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She says all coy
“Oh my god you so did! Babyyyy, you didn’t have to do that!! How is it possible you're over 500 miles away and you’re still taking care of me?” You ask as you tear up again. (Happy tears)
“Because I love you so incredibly much. And nothing will stop me from taking care of you amore. I got you, and I will always have you. If it’s something that I can control, it will be handled. I know you didn’t say it but you need to be reminded, you deserve to be treated with this level of care. And I will spend the rest of our lives together giving you the highest level of care princess.” She says softly and you can see the tears welling up in her eyes.
You look at her and think to yourself how lucky you are to be loved by Melissa. “I love you so much baby girl. And I hope I can give you everything that you give to me.” You say smiling at her.
You get a notification that the DoorDash driver is at your place and you go get the Gatorade from the driver and then put it in the fridge and then go back to your room.
“You already do angel, I couldn’t have asked for a more amazing woman who makes me feel so incredibly special.” Mel says. “I wish you were here, I’d take you in my arms and pull you in close and put your head on my chest, and we just lay there feeling each other’s love radiating from the other.” She says softly.
“Mmmm, that sounds amazing. You know that’s my favorite way to cuddle. I love listening to your heart beat and your breathing slow down until I know you’re asleep and then I fall asleep shortly after.” You say.
“I know you do baby. You want to stay on FaceTime while we sleep and then technically we can wake up together on thanksgiving morning.” She says with a big smile.
“I love that idea, it’ll help me miss you less.” You say yawning.
“Let’s go to bed my angel. Besides, unlike some people, I have to get up early to start cooking stuff!” She teases you.
“You know if I was there, I’d be waking up with you and helping you in whatever way I could with the food.” You say.
“I know amore. You are my favorite sous chef.” She says and winks at you.
“Well I’ll let us both go to bed. Sweet dreams gorgeous girl. I love you. And I’ll see you in the morning.” You say and then blow her a kiss.
“Sweet dreams princess. I love you more! I’ll see ya tomorrow!” She says and then blows you a kiss.
You wake up to the sounds of your mom working on her portion of the food today in the kitchen. You look at the alarm clock that reads 10 a.m. and then you hear “Good morning my sleeping beauty.” And you think you must be dreaming, so you look around the room confused. Then you hear Jessica Rabbit’s adorable giggle. “Turn over so I can see you pretty girl.” She instructs softly. You turn over and there your gorgeous woman is in her eagle’s sweatshirt and black leggings in her kitchen, looking at you with such love.
“Morning baby.” You say sleepily with a big smile.
“How’d you sleep amore mio?” She asks as she cuts some vegetables for some dish she’s making you assume.
“Not too bad actually. But I did get to fall asleep with you, so it makes sense I slept pretty good.” You report. “How’d you sleep my gorgeous girl? How long have you been up for?” You ask.
“I slept pretty good too. As you said, sleeping on FaceTime with you really was comforting to me. Now we know what to do if one of us takes a trip. I woke up at like 7:30 to get things started and as you know that’s sleeping in compared to a work day. When I woke up you were facing me and I don’t think I tell you this enough when we’re together but you look so freaking cute when you sleep! I may have took a picture or two for my secret stash.” She says with a smirk.
“You literally think everything I do is cute. Why am I not surprised you took pictures? And your “stalker” photo album you have of me can’t be called a secret stash when you look at it when I’m sitting right next to you on the couch.” You tease her.
“You love my gentle stalking tendencies! Just add it to the long list of my amazing attributes.” She jokes as she flips her hair.
You roll your eyes. “Oh my god I could hear that eye roll all the way in Philly!” She teases. “You my love need to get your cute ass out of bed and eat some breakfast.” She says looking at you smiling.
“Are you going to always make sure I eat every meal?” You tease her.
“Yes ma’am! I know you have a weird history with food, so I’m always gonna check on you and your eating. And it’s not because I don’t think you got it, cause I know you do. It’s just nice to have support around stuff that we don’t love doing that we have to do. It’s like you helping me with my cbd lotion for my arthritis every night. Does it make me feel like I’m your fucking grandma, yes! But does it also make me feel so cared for by you, yes!” She says smiling. “And besides I need my future wife to live a long healthy life with me!” She exclaims.
“Okay you sold me! You always make me melt when you call me that, ya know?” You say softly.
“I know baby, I feel the same way. I think we both feel that way because we know we’ve finally have found the right person. God it makes me emotional just talking about it.” Mel says and you can see she’s willing herself not to cry.
“Awwwww baby, it’s good tears though. It’s like relief and all the other emotions washing over us being like we don’t have to search anymore, we can just lie safely in each other’s arms and rest.” You say with a shy smile.
“You speak so beautifully sometimes and it always surprises me in the best way possible. I love you so much amore mio. You better be saving that shit for our vows.” She says and then laughs. “Now go eat your breakfast please if not for yourself do it for me.” The redhead says with her big puppy dog eyes.
“Okay I’ll do it just for you. I hope all your cooking endeavors are successful! I know they’ll all turn out delicious! And you better save me some leftovers, you know I’m obsessed with your cooking! I’ll talk to you later amore.” You say smiling big at her.
“I will definitely make sure to save you some leftovers! I’ll talk to you later my angel! I love you!” She says with a big smile.
“Love you more! Bye!” You say.
“Byeee!” She says and waves and then you end the call.
You, Becca, and Jake hangout in the basement and watch movies you all used to love when you were kids. You had a few drinks throughout the day and just like she said Mel made sure you drank Gatorade in between drinks. The meal with your parents was tolerable, the food was good and your mom kept the conversation light.
After the thanksgiving meal, your phone starts ringing. It’s Jessica Rabbit FaceTiming you.
“Hey pretty girl!” She says when you answer.
“Hey my love! What’s up?” You say with a big smile.
“Everyone wants to say hi to you!” She says with a big smile and then she flips her camera around and you hear a chorus of Happy thanksgiving (Y/N)! as she pans around the table showing most if not all of the Schemmenti’s.
“Happy thanksgiving everyone!” You exclaim.
She stops the camera on Nonna. “We miss you dearly (Y/N)! It’s definitely not the same without you here! But I hope you had a wonderful thanksgiving with your family!” The Schemmenti matriarch says to you with a big smile.
“Awww Nonna thank you, you’re too sweet! I miss y’all too! I’ll definitely spend next Thanksgiving with you guys, my mouth is already watering thinking about the delicious food we’ll have next year!” You say with a big smile.
“I’m gonna hold you to coming next year (Y/N)! Now have a good rest of your time home! I know Melissa has been missing you, so you get back here safely so you can take care of our girl, okay?” Nonna says.
“Yes ma’am, I will do my best to get back safe and taking care of Melissa is the number one thing on my to-do list when I get back. I hope y’all have a great rest of your thanksgiving!” You say.
The camera turns back to Melissa and she’s wearing a big smile. “So as you can see everyone misses you but I definitely miss you the most! I just wanted to call and let everyone say hi and so you could see everyone! I’ll call you tonight. I love you so much amore mio.” She says. In the background you can hooting and hollering as well as whistling. “Youse guys better shut it, before I come over there and make you!” The redhead threatens her family. You can’t help but laugh.
“I’ll talk to you later, gorgeous. Love you more! Byeee!” You say as you wave to her.
“Bye beautiful!” She says as she waves back and then you end the call.
On Black Friday you, your sister and your mom have a pamper yourself day. You start out the morning getting massages, then you get facials, then you end with getting your nails done. You were glad that you were being kept busy, it helped you not miss Mel so much.
You were at the nail salon and you and your sister were just letting your toes dry. Your mom had run home because she got done early and wanted to get the house in better shape from the Thanksgiving festivities that went on yesterday.
“So do you feel different with Melissa than you have in your previous relationships?” Your sister asks you.
“Yeah it’s truly night and day, like there’s no comparison. I didn’t know that I could feel really truly loved and she makes me feel that way every day.” You say smiling.
The bell rings signaling a new customer coming in. You look over, that’s weird the woman who just walked in looked a hell of a lot like Jessica Rabbit.
“Becks, you see that woman who just came in. I swear to god it’s Melissa’s Michigan doppelgänger! Isn’t it weird that some people have that going on?!” You say to your sister looking amused.
You realize the woman is carrying a gorgeous bouquet of roses. Mmm she’s lucky, got those flowers probably from someone special you think to yourself. Before you know it the woman is walking in your direction. You look away and start messing with your phone. The woman sits right next to you.
“(Y/N) look she sat right next to you.” Your sister chuckles.
“I mean she is my girlfriend’s doppelgänger so it makes sense.” You quip back.
“I dare you to say something to her.” Your sister says with a mischievous smile.
“Are we 12 again? Fine I accept the dare to add some entertainment to your extremely dull life.” You tease.
You turn to the woman. She smiles at you. You smile back. “Hi, I just had to say that those flowers are gorgeous.” You say.
“Thank you. They’re for you.” The woman says looking at you so lovingly.
And then your jaw drops and you look back at your sister who smiles and nods and then you look back at the woman.
“Mel?” You say in disbelief.
“Hey pretty girl.” She says.
“Shut the fuck up! No fucking way! Shut up!” You exclaim and then you fly out of the salon chair and into the redhead’s arms and then immediately start sobbing. You just hug her for what seems like forever.
“Oh my god (Y/N). You’re acting like the woman just came home from war or something.” Becca teases.
You flip her off. You finally break the hug and sit back in the chair to let your toes dry completely.
“What are you doing here?” You ask as you squeeze her hand.
“Surprising my gorgeous girl. After you met my family, I reached out to Becca and your folks to ask if it was okay if I crashed your thanksgiving weekend together and surprise you. I think I can confidently say the mission was accomplished.” She says with a smirk.
“No shit, it was accomplished. I was floored! I literally was saying to Becca when you came in that it was the Michigan Doppelgänger of you.” You say chuckling.
“Do you really think Michigan would have a Philly 11?” Melissa teases you.
“Oh honey, there’s only one Philly 11 even in Philly.” You say smiling as you lean towards her and kiss her softly.
Mel turns her attention to your sister when you break away. “Hey I just want to thank you for helping me pull this off, I really appreciate it.” She says to Becca.
“Of course. You’re very welcome. I know I give her a lot of shit. But from what she’s told me about you, you make her really happy and feel safe, loved, and supported. And that’s all I could ever want for her in terms of a relationship. So thank you for taking such good care of her.” Becca says with a smile.
“She deserves all of it and so much more. I just feel lucky to call her mine.” She says and caresses your cheek.
The nail technician comes over and tells you your toes should be dry.
You put your boots on and walk arm in arm with Mel up to the cash register with Becca not far behind.
“Let me pay for your nails guys.” Mel says to you and Becca.
“You don’t have to do that babe.” You say pulling her closer to you.
Mel looks at you and you know that she is trying to make a good first impression on Becca.
“That’s very sweet of you hun. Thank you for treating us.” You say squeezing her arm.
“Yeah Melissa, seriously thank you.” Becca says smiling at Mel.
When everything was paid you walked out to the cars.
“I grabbed her bag just like you instructed.” Becca says to Mel and then proceeds to take your suitcase out of the trunk of her car. Mel grabs it so fast it makes your head spin, she always likes to help you with your bags but knows you're stubborn and if you get to it first, you’ll insist you got it. The woman knows you inside and out, and you love that she does.
“Why did you ask her to bring my bag?” You let go of her to face her, arms crossed.
“Hey weirdo she’s trying to romance you with another surprise! Stop being a butthead! You truly are a saint for putting up with all of this Melissa.” Becca says as she gestures to you.
Mel steps close to you and takes your face in her hands. You feel yourself relax completely and you put your hands in her back pockets and pull her closer to you.
“Do you remember when you told me about you working for that really nice hotel in the summers during college in your hometown?” She asks you.
“Mhmm.” You say looking at her curiously.
“Well during that conversation you said that one of your dreams was to stay at that hotel and see what it was like as a guest. So I booked us a room there for the weekend to make that dream come true.” She says with the biggest smile.
For the second time today Melissa has made you cry. “You did not! I can’t believe this.” You say through your tears. “I don’t deserve this.” You say as you wipe your tears.
“Look at me.” She says as she gently takes your chin and guides it until you’re looking directly at her gorgeous emerald eyes. “You always put everyone else first before yourself. You always make it a priority to make me feel so cared for, loved and supported. You definitely deserve this. Let me put you first this weekend. Let me spoil my angel. I love you so fucking much (Y/N). And I hope you know that this isn’t a just this weekend thing, this is the rest of your life with me thing. So you better get used to it, pretty girl.” Melissa says and then kisses you softly.
“Damn it, y’all are better than watching the bachelor. Got me crying and everything!” Becca exclaims.
“I love you more amore mio.” You say softly.
You then turn to Becca. “We’ll see you for dinner with the parental units.” You say with a smile.
“Sounds good! Melissa I apologize for our parents in advance. They’re just very set in their ways and what they think our lives should look like. They can’t see through their own bullshit. If they don’t see how happy and in love you two are, disregard their opinion. I hope for both of your sake that they surprise us and they’re genuinely supportive of y’all.” Becca says.
“Yeah she knows about the whole Culver’s discussion that happened on Wednesday. I understand where they’re coming from to a certain degree, like yeah I’m dating someone who’s close in age to them and could technically be their friend when you put age into the equation. But she’s not! And the other issue that we’d both struggle with is if she had kids that were close to my age. But she doesn’t so that’s a nonissue. It’s just upsetting to me that they’re so closed minded if it doesn’t look exactly like their lives.” You say as you shake your head.
Melissa puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you close to her. “It’s okay. It’ll all be okay.” She says softly as she kisses your head.
“Let’s all cross our fingers. Bye hun. I loved spending today with you as always.” Becca says and then gives you a hug. “Melissa it was really nice finally meeting you in person, again thanks for the nails.” She says as she hugs Mel. And then she gets into her car.
You go to grab your suitcase and feel Melissa playfully pull you back.
“You little shit! You’re gonna let me get your bag. Because you know how much I love you and how much I want to take care of you. So let me do that god damn it.” She says smirking at you.
“Fine.” You huff. She looks at you and pulls you closer to her.
“You know what will make you feel better? Kissing me.” She says in her flirty voice with a big smirk.
“You’re not wrong.” You say softly as you take her face in your hands and kiss her with a burning desire.
“Damn girl. Save it for the hotel.” She teases you and then smacks your ass.
She opens the trunk of the rental car and puts your suitcase next to hers. You patiently wait for her to get that all situated and then let her open your car door for you. You still can’t wrap your head around the princess treatment you get from her, but you knew it was all genuine and she loved taking care of you in those little ways.
“Thanks baby.” You say and she leans down to give you a quick kiss before carefully shutting your door and getting in on her side.
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anonymous-dentist · 2 months
Text
Roier-centric eldritch psychological thriller-slasher starring his wonderful husband, his two lovely kids, and the man in the mirror:
- red in eye? Not sleeping, go figure
- he’s had Cellbit back for just a few days after rescuing him from purgatory. No Doied or reset, yeah
- castle is built on top of paranormal rooms. Magic bleeds
- Roier is clingy, because duh? His husband is back from seemingly the dead? And they can finally chill for a bit before they go kill everyone in the Feds <3 #couple things
- knife is missing from the kitchen, sounds right tbh
- Cellbit is sad and tired and just wants to rest. He doesn’t care about killing anymore, he’s tired
- …which is fine! Roier isn’t picky tbh, he’s just happy Cellbit is back
- Roier is tired tho. He’s been sleeping, but he always wakes up so tired
- and Cellbit notices, and he starts trying Roier on some fancy sleepy teas and stuff because he may be traumatized, but he’s also worried
- Roier is paranoid tho. Cucurucho keeps watching him when he’s out on the island, he swears! There are eyes on him, what?
- okay, maybe he’s sure, because he goes to do laundry and! His red hoodie is gone! He swears he put it in the washer wtf. Cucurucho must have stolen it
- he suggests as much to Cellbit, who seems properly upset for two moments before storming off to the fear room to think
- …but it’s fine! He’s allowed his own space!
- Roier notices dark circles under his eyes in the mirror. Sigh, so much for beauty sleep :(
- at least Cellbit is doing better. He still doesn’t wanna kill atm, but he does seem to be planning something, so there’s that!
- Bad comes by to talk to Cellbit. Roier HATES him, hand on his sword even in his own home, but it’s FINE! Cellbit says as much, and Roier trusts him with his own boundaries
- Richas wants a bedtime story. Roier tells him all about the adventures of a little boy named Sally who goes to live on the moon. Pepito is entranced
- in bed, Roier likes to snuggle Cellbit. These days, he wants to be snuggled. He wants to know Cellbit is holding him, that he’s real.
- “I missed you.” “…Really?” “Yes, really, god, you’re stupid. Mwah.”
- Roier goes to shower and finds the drain has been clogged by white fur. Cucurucho…! >:(
- (is he being watched?)
- Cellbit is CONCERNED about this, my god. He doesn’t want the kids in the murder room, so they go to stay in the Order instead. Because that’s safe
- no mirrors in the Order. Thank god, but this just means Roier can’t do his makeup :( How else is he supposed to cover his dark circles and stuff?
- and Roier… sleeps better! It’s quiet and nice and cold in the Order. That must be it, the castle just needs a ceiling fan going
- after a bit of investigation, they go back to the castle
- the next morning, they wake up to frantic messages from bad and Phil anout the Order being completely WRECKED. It’s all ruined, parts of it are blown up
- Cellbit is destroyed. Right in the center of the room over the logo is a bright red smiley face, :)
- but Pepito seems.. off. A little worried, he keeps holding onto Roier’s hand with his thumb in his mouth. Rip
- to try and cheer people, including Cellbit, up, Roier says he should start doing paranormal room tours again, and it cheers Cellbit right up because he LOVES spooky shit
- blood room. The lava seems to flow brighter, but it’s probably the light. It’s cozy, at least, snork mimimi
- Roier shaves in the morning in front of the mirror every other day or so. He blinks, and he opens his eyes to see himself crying
- …so maybe Cellbit’s disappearance got to him harder than he’s been letting on. It’s fine!!
- the Order is being rebuilt. Cellbit is there ALL THE TIME, making it a bit more of a community center than a secret society considering his whole ‘retirement’ thing. But Roier misses him :( But he doesn’t wanna be too clingy, he’s a grown-ass man, and so is his husband
- until tnt goes off one night while Cellbit is working in the order and Roier is asleep. He barely gets out alive, though it’s not like it would’ve mattered with respawns
- Richas is Deeply Upset about this. He wants to beat up Cucurucho, but like. What can he do??
- (Cellbit goes to get some sand from his chests in the fear room to make glass and realizes it’s gone. Upon inspection, so is a lot of his gunpowder)
- Roier is quietly taken off the allowlist. He doesn’t even know
- Pepito wants to hear another story about Sally and the moon. So Roier tells him, and he doesn’t realize he’s crying until Pepito starts crying, too
- “It’s a sad story, don’t worry. I’m fine.” “It doesn’t sound sad to me. Sally is happy, right?” “Oh, probably. The moon is awesome.”
- more hair in the drain. A weird smell in the bathroom when Roier goes to shave and shower. Bleach?
- he wipes the fog from the mirror and swears his reflection is smiling at him until the mirror fogs again. Upon wiping the fog again. Normal him
- he’s starting to get a little freaked out, so he goes to talk to and hang out with his dad, who mentions that Roier looks a little paler than usual. Maybe he’s just sick and hallucinating!
- so foolish, doctor, does a check-up. The reflective mirror on his headband stares into Roier’s soul, and his eyes look so red it looks like he’s been crying
- foolish sends him home with a packet of kelp cocaine. Roier doesn’t take it, but he appreciates the thought
-Cellbit isn’t home, so Roier goes to hang out in the blood room and pet the demon dogs
- and he falls asleep
- and he wakes up in bed. In his pajamas. The next day
- but Cellbit doesn’t seem to know that he like? Napped at all the previous day? He was awake when Cellbit got home with the kids. He made dinner. Asked about the murder room, pouted when Cellbit brushed it off, cuddled in bed
- but when Roier looks absolutely confused and almost terrified, Cellbit goes quiet
- “what is it?” He asks
- Roier swallows and can’t even manage a smile.
- “nothing,” he lies.
- he’s used to this, right? The blacking out? But it’s never lasted this long, and it just feels different. Right?
- when Cellbit goes to make coffee, Roier storms into the bathroom and tells the mirror to knock it off. Whatever it’s doing, it can do to bad boy halo instead
- but then Pepito screams and Richarlyson cackles and Roier goes downstairs to get a photo only to see them standing in front of the fridge and staring at a decapitated polar bear head, Cellbit looking very :/ behind them
- Roier’s reflection in the microwave winks, and he fights the urge to cry
- Roier starts trying to get every reflective surface out of the castle he can find. When Cellbit asks why, Roier lies and says it’s spring cleaning. In January.
- but then Cellbit looks him in the eyes, and Roier sees his own terrified reflection in them, and he knows he’s doomed
- unless…
- no!!!
- it’s the thought of potentially hurting his husband that makes Roier give in and start explaining all the weird shit that’s been going on for weeks now, and Cellbit is quiet through it all
- they hold each other on the balcony, and then:
- “Guapito, I think you’ve been possessed by a Blood Spirit. Kind of like a leech. A ghost wandering in search of strong emotions to feed off of.”
- “what the fuck”
- “don’t worry!! I think we can get rid of it!!”
- so they try. Cellbit gets to researching, and Roier sits and stares at a very dark room with all reflective things in the house Gone
- and then they do an exorcism
- and it works!! It all seems fine for a few days!!
- the mirrors are put back up
- Roier goes to shave
- and his reflection is staring right at him with a smile when he raises his razor to his cheek
- Roier’s hand shakes.
- he looks at the razor
- he looks at his reflection
- he hears Cellbit in the other room
- he swallows
- he raises his razor to his eyes
- and-
The End
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loweya-blog · 5 months
Text
Cinderella (Obey Me Edition)
(Part 2, Part 3)
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Once upon a time....
You were broke. Your job barely paid minimum wage and most of your cash went to paying the rent. Things like buying yourself new clothes that actually looked good on you or any sort of hobby items were out of your reach, unless you wanted to skip breakfast for the next few weeks.
Money had always been a difficulty for you but especially hurt when your friends went out to a fancy restaurant or some event where you couldn't attend due to your minimal paycheck. Perhaps you told yourself it was fine. Perhaps you hated it. But you had to move forwards, looking towards an uncertain future. Making do with what you could get at every turn.
Yet months of such conditions can wear a person down. Most of your time was taken up by work, creating an isolating atmosphere. The loneliness within your heart grew with every passing day as the world around you began looking duller and duller with each passing day. All you wanted was one nice night out with a few friends...
One day, a letter arrived.
It was right at your doorstep despite the fact you had a perfectly functional mailbox. A black envelope with gold trimmings and a dark red seal laid right at your door. When you took it inside and opened it, you found a beautifully handwritten invitation by some guy named Diavolo.
"Dear Recipient,
Congratulations! You have been selected to attend the Royal Seven Night Masquerade held by Prince Diavolo this year. This event shall be inviting two humans and two angels to help encourage relations.
Please sign the letter below to confirm your attendance to this event.
Yours sincerely,
Diavolo."
You blinked and stared at the letter for a few minutes. Was this a prank? You'd never heard of any prince Diavolo before. Still... the idea of a masquerade party sounded nice, even if it was just a prank in the end. Without thinking, you signed your name on the letter.
For the rest of the day you went about your business. The next night, you heard a knocking at your door. It was 7pm and nobody was supposed to be visiting. The idea that it could be your landlord made you internally groan as you went to open the door.
It wasn't the landlord.
A man with short dark green hair and a long fringe on his left that reached his nose. He wore a black tailcoat with gloves and had a prim and proper air about him.
"Are you MC?"
You silently nodded, still confused by this stranger and a bit wary at this un-welcomed visitor.
"Excellent. I'll be escorting you to this evening's masquerade."
Masquerade? What was he-
Then it hit you. The letter. You'd originally thought it was just a prank by some kid. The idea it may have been real hadn't even occurred to you. For a moment, you were stunned. The stranger was rather patient and seemingly amused by your confusion.
"I....I can't go to the masquerade," you explained when you finally found your voice.
"And why is that?"
He hadn't even changed his amused expression, just looking at you with a slight smile.
"I have nothing to wear," a part of you hated admitting it but in this moment you had no other excuse, "And I don't have a way to get there."
"Is that all?" Even after explaining all your reasons, the stranger seemed undeterred, "If that's the case, may I borrow a teapot if you have one?"
Your face must have twisted into a sour expression at the thought of giving up your one teapot, because the stranger was quick to reassure you.
"I promise, it will be returned to you unharmed."
Maybe it was the sincerity in his voice or your own curiosity. Either way, you ended up handing the precious teapot over. The stranger set it on the ground and took a few steps back. Right before your eyes, the teapot began to grow as swirls of colorful light encircled it.
When the light died down, a beautiful lavender blue carriage with a spout, handle, and golden wheels with little encrusted diamonds stood in place of your teapot. Your jaw dropped at the sight. Were you dreaming? What on earth was happening?
"The carriage will bring you to the steps of Diavolo's castle. As for your clothes...."
The same strange lights that had transformed your teapot now surrounded you. In a matter of seconds, your pjs had transformed into a gorgeous outfit of the finest silk and dripping with accessories you could only dream of. Even your hair and makeup were done to perfection in the most flattering of ways. Upon your face was a beautiful mask that would fit in any fantasy ball scene. And on your feet were a pair of glittering glass shoes that were surprisingly comfortable.
"I... how.... what?" you stammered.
"Now, there are a few rules you'll need to be mindful of," The stranger continued on with a smile, "First, don't tell anybody at the masquerade you are human, for your own sake. Second, leave before the witching hour. Once again I recommend that for your own sake. And to encourage you to follow the rules, this spell will only last until midnight. Once the clock strikes midnight, this spell will be undone and you'll be left in your pjs with only a teapot."
The stranger looked at you closely.
"Do you understand?"
Once he got a small nod from you, he simply bowed and left you alone to your own devices. Now it was all up to you. Would you go to the ball or would you stay home? Even if you disliked big events, it would be a once in a lifetime opportunity.
You carefully stepped into the magical teapot carriage and sat upon the pink cushioned seats within. The wheels of the carriage automatically began to turn and you were whisked off to the masquerade ball.
(Let me know if you guys want a part 2! :D)
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katsu28 · 2 years
Text
even after all these years
pairing: Eddie Munson x reader
summary: based on the prompt “i take my little sibling to their school’s halloween carnival and you’re one of the volunteers/workers there and you’re super cute” but slightly different
warnings: light swearing, bats
a/n: is it even legal to finally be posting a halloween fic in december? let’s pretend it is and i’m not criminally late with it! but in my defense, i started writing this before halloween and then just never finished it </3
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Eddie didn’t want to be here. Now don’t get him wrong, he liked Halloween just as much as the next person, but being around all these people that were ready to hunt him down and burn him at the stake just months ago, who were now pretending like it never happened, just didn’t tickle his fancy. 
But Dustin and Steve were very adamant on him coming with them, and as much as he wanted to decline, he couldn’t. 
So now here he was, shuffling behind his friends as they wandered around the Hawkins High parking lot that had been converted into a makeshift Halloween carnival, trying his best to ignore the stares and whispers aimed his way. 
Eddie was no stranger to them, but these were different. He wasn’t just a freak, he was a so called “murderer”. Even though his name had been cleared a long time ago. 
“Dude, you look like you’re about to piss yourself. Relax.” Steve’s voice drew him out of his thoughts, his eyes flicking to the brown haired boy currently raising a brow at him. “You’re fine, Munson.” 
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Whatever.” Eddie muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket sulkily. 
Dustin cast a glance back at him, frowning when he saw the older boy kicking a rock down the gravel path, much more interested in the toes of his dirty sneakers than anything else around him. He felt bad for dragging Eddie here when he obviously wasn’t having any fun, but it was good for him to get out more. He’d barely left Steve’s house at all the past seven months, only managing to drag himself to Hellfire meetings and to give Dustin an occasional ride home from school. 
“Hey, you wanna come with me to get my face painted?” Dustin asked excitedly, making his way back to tug on Eddie’s sleeve with a grin. “I was thinking like a huge spiderweb, straight across my cheek. Pretty badass, don’t you think?” 
“I guess.” Eddie shrugged, instantly feeling guilt pool in his stomach when he saw Dustin’s shoulders slump. So he tried his best to remedy it by plastering a smile on his face, clapping him on the back and pulling him closer by the collar of his jacket. “That does sound real badass, Henderson. Lead the way.” 
Dustin perked right back up, launching into a mindless ramble about some species of spider that Eddie wasn’t paying attention to all that much as they made their way through the crowds of kids and parents to the face painting table. Immediately plunking into a free chair across from one of the Hawkins High science teachers, Dustin started talking again, probably forgetting that Eddie had come with him. 
Eddie, on the other hand, was about ready to ditch him, since he was getting a few weird looks as he just stood in the middle of the array of tables awkwardly. 
“Hey, I know you. You’re—” 
“Yeah, yeah, Eddie the freak, satanic worshipper, murderer, yada, yada,” He grumbled, deciding to slouch over into another flimsy plastic chair with his arms crossed over his chest to get out of people’s way, barely hastening you a glance before focusing his scowl on the worn out knees of his jeans. 
“Uh…okay. That’s not what I was thinking of though.” You frowned. “Hawkins middle school debate team, sixth grade.” 
Eddie’s eyes snapped up, widening in horror at the sight of you. You, out of all the people he could’ve snapped at.
He remembered you, and he definitely remembered that year. The year he went to live with his uncle, which then turned into two, then three, then the rest of his life. 
He’d been having trouble adjusting to being moved around so much, so he’d started acting out. Arguing with teachers, interrupting class randomly, cutting school, the whole nine yards. Apparently, he was so good at arguing with authority figures, they decided to stick him on the debate team as punishment. But honestly, it wasn’t so much of a punishment when he realized that you were also on the debate team. 
Bright eyed and bushy tailed with the brightest of smiles, you were Eddie’s first crush. You were one of the only people who didn’t treat him like a total freak, sitting with him during debate practices and talking to him when no one else would, even going so far as to share your snacks with him. You never brushed him off or called him a weirdo, and you’d even kicked Tommy H in the nuts one time when he made a dig at Eddie’s clothes. 
So when you moved out of Hawkins, he was pretty bummed. But now you were back, and he still felt the same butterflies in his stomach right now that he did back when he was twelve. 
“What was that about being a murderer?” You tilted your head at him in confusion, to which he shook his head quickly. 
“Nothing! I’m not—my name was cleared, I didn’t, uh, I didn’t murder anyone!” He tugged at the collar of his jacket awkwardly, half expecting you to shoot him a weird look. 
But you just smiled, laughing a little bit. “That’s always good. Hi, Eddie.” 
“Hi,” Eddie said sheepishly, holding up a ringed hand in greeting. “I didn’t know you were back.” 
“Yeah, I’ve only been here for a couple weeks…” You trailed off, fiddling with your paintbrush. Hoping I’d magically run into you somehow, you wanted to add. But you didn’t. “I like your hair. Much better than the buzzcut.” 
Eddie’s hand flew to his unruly curls, trying his best to smooth them down even the tiniest bit. You remembered what his hair looked like? More importantly, you remembered him? 
“Oh, uh, thanks. I like your hair too.” His words came out in an awkward jumble that you just beamed even brighter at, eyes crinkling at the corners. I like your hair too? Stupid, stupid, stupid. 
You didn’t seem to think it was stupid. “You’re sweet. How’ve you been? What’ve you been up to?” 
Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably. What had he accomplished since the last time he saw you? 
He’d become a drug dealer, started a club that everyone thought promoted Satanic worship, been accused for multiple gruesome murders, almost died in Hawkins the horror dimension, came back, and was now even more of a loser freak than he’d already been.
“Uh, not much. Nothing too interesting.” He mumbled. “So…what, uh, what brings you back here?” 
“My grandparents’ house was damaged in that earthquake back in March and they came to live with us right after, so we’re just here trying to…hopefully salvage some stuff, maybe see if we can fix it up.” You shrugged, waving your brush around aimlessly. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s too much we can do, that was a pretty intense quake.” Eddie didn’t mean to, but he flinched a bit at your mention of the quake, seeing as what really happened was so much worse than a natural disaster. 
You noticed, instantly scrambling to rectify your statement with flaming cheeks. “I mean, obviously, you knew that, you lived through it. Sorry, that was really insensitive of me, I don’t—” 
“It’s fine! Don’t worry about it.” Eddie shook his head quickly, brushing it off. “I’m—I’m okay.” I nearly got eaten alive by demon bats from hell, but I’m okay. Obviously he couldn’t tell you that. Not only would he sound absolutely insane, but it would definitely scare you off, which is something he really didn’t want. 
“Right, well, anyways—” You started, but were cut off by a cleared throat from a quite severe looking woman with a clipboard standing a few feet away, who was aiming a very pointed looking glare in your direction. Leaning in a little closer, your nose wrinkled in distaste, voice hushed so as to not draw her attention even more. “That’s my supervisor. She thinks I talk too much, paint too little.” 
“Supervisor? Aren’t you a volunteer?” Eddie whispered, brows furrowing. 
You shrugged. “Apparently this whole carnival thing is super serious this year.” 
“Uh huh, because painting pumpkins on kids’ faces is such a serious thing.” 
“According to her, it’s pretty much the most serious thing in the whole history of serious things.” 
“Seriously?” 
“Seriously.” 
You had to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from bursting into laughter, such a simple act that still sent a shot of warmth through Eddie’s chest. It also garnered the attention from your supervisor, whose angry steps quickly spurred you back to business as usual. 
“And what would you like painted on your face today, Eddie?” 
His lips quirked into a miniscule smile at your sudden forced enthusiastic tone, which brought a flush to your cheeks. 
“Sorry,” You apologized sheepishly. “Too teacher-y?” 
“I’d say just enough teacher-y.” He observed, nodding thoughtfully. “Reminds me of Mrs. Paulson from middle school. Y’know, the old lady who always smelled like pepperoni.” 
“Pepperoni Paulson, I remember her,” You nodded as well, then squinted at him suspiciously. “Wasn’t she arrested for public intoxication a few years ago?” 
“Yeah. I stand by my point.” 
You let out a noise of indignance, eyebrows creasing and nose wrinkling in such an adorable way that Eddie almost felt the need to turn tail and run. 
“Okay, asshole, what do you want painted on you?” You huffed playfully, poking his arm with the pointy end of the brush in your hand. 
Eddie scratched at his nose. “Eh, I dunno. Surprise me.” 
“You sure you wanna give me free reign after that smug comment? Might just draw a dick on your face to be funny.” 
He couldn’t help it. A snorting laugh fell from his lips at how utterly serious you looked as you dipped the brush into the colorful array of paint in front of you. 
You were the first person outside his friends not to tiptoe around him like he was about to snap at any second. Maybe it was because you had no idea what had really happened in Hawkins, but he didn’t really care. He wasn’t used to it, but he liked it. He really liked it. 
Both Steve and Dustin’s heads whipped around at the sound of Eddie’s laughter, regarding each other with identical wide eyed stares before gawking over at him. They hadn’t heard him laugh in months. They didn’t even know he still could laugh. 
But there he was, sitting at the face painting booth across from you, head tipped back, shoulders shaking, looking…happy. 
Eddie, on the other hand, felt like he was about to spontaneously combust at your close proximity—your fingers gripping his chin to keep him still, the delicate swipe of your brush across his cheek, your knees wedged between his own to get the right angle for steady strokes. How you radiated vanilla and cinnamon and the kind of warmth that spread through his own body with every carefully controlled breath he took. 
To make matters worse, your tongue poked out from between your lips in pure concentration, something Eddie realized you had in common. Though he probably wasn’t as cute when he did it. 
His gaze bounced around, focusing on anywhere else, anything else but you. 
“You look kinda uncomfortable right now, Eddie,” You said softly, your breath a barely there puff of air across his skin that still had goosebumps raising on his arms. “Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?” 
“No, I’m—I’m good! It’s just…cold out today.” He finished lamely, fingers fiddling with the rips in his pants. 
“It is.” You concurred, smiling softly. “I gotta say, I definitely haven’t missed Hawkins in that area.”
Hawkins has definitely missed you, Eddie thought. Okay, maybe not Hawkins. Just me. 
The paint on his cheek was cold too, but it did nothing to quell the flame of his cheeks to rosy red the more he realized that twelve year old Eddie would give anything to be where he was right now. Hell, even himself from a few months ago would’ve had an aneurysm if he knew that he actually had the chance to talk to you again. 
Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, jerking him back to reality. “Alright, take a look, tell me what you think.” You passed him a small mirror, leaning back in your seat. “You can tell me if you hate it. I’ll just go curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment.” 
“I won’t hate it, I promise. I—” He glanced in the mirror, stopping mid-sentence when he saw what you’d created oh so carefully. A flurry of tiny bats scattered across his cheek, the black paint a stark contrast to his pale skin. 
“Oh my god, you hate it!” You moaned, hiding your face behind your hands. 
“I don’t!” 
“You so do!” 
“Y/N, I promise I don’t hate it. See, look,” He pulled up the sleeve of his jacket hastily to reveal a similar grouping of bats tattooed on his forearm. “More bats.” 
The scars marring his torso and chest twinged, not out of pain, but as a reminder. Bats. Obviously, he couldn’t tell you the real reason why he wasn’t too fond of bats, but he’d sooner face the Upside Down again than tell you he hated what you’d done. 
“Oh, okay. Good. Because I was afraid I just blew my chance at impressing you after all these years.” 
“You—you wanted to impress me?” He asked incredulously, eyebrows furrowing. 
“‘Course I did. Feels a little late to admit this, but I totally had a crush on you in middle school.” 
“You did?” 
“I did. I was even thinking about telling you before I left, but it just…didn’t feel right, y’know? Dropping such a big thing and then bailing?” 
“Y/N, you moved away, that’s not bailing.” Eddie shook his head, then inhaled a sharp breath. “I—I actually liked you too. And I wanted to tell you back then, but then you…y’know, moved, and I thought I’d lost my chance.” 
It suddenly felt a lot harder to breathe, but you managed to utter your next words despite it. “But now I’m back.” 
“Now you’re back,” He repeated. “You’re back, and I get another one.” His hand came down on your knee, the warmth of his palm sending a different kind of warmth to your cheeks. “I still like you. I don’t think I ever stopped. I actually think it got worse—no, not worse! Liking you was never a bad thing, it was a really good thing. It has been a really good thing, I just—I didn’t know if I was ever gonna see you again, and now that I have, I…am totally rambling, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to—” 
“Eddie—” 
“—overload you with my feelings, I just felt like it was something I should tell you, since—” 
“Eddie,” You repeated, your hand blanketing his on your jeans. “Stop talking.” His mouth snapped shut immediately, brown eyes wide. “I still like you too.” 
“You…you do?” You nodded. “Even after all these years?” Another nod, this time accompanied by a soft smile. 
“Even after all these years.” You echoed, tapping along the rings adorning his knuckles. His fingers twitched, aching to entwine with yours, but he was afraid that he might be hallucinating right now. There was no way in hell you felt the same way, now or ever. He wanted to pinch himself, but he felt it might be weird. 
You could tell by the way his mouth dropped open the slightest bit that the cogs in his mind were working overdrive, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. “I’m gonna kiss you now, Eddie. Feel free to stop me.” 
Eddie wasn’t going to stop you. He’d never even dream about it. 
When your lips touched his, he could swear that he was dreaming—that any second now, he’d wake up in his own bed, back to the reality where this whole thing never happened. Where you were still god knows where, miles and miles away from Hawkins, probably not even paying him any mind at all. 
This time, he really did pinch himself, and he was beyond pleased to realize that this was real, that you were in fact here, kissing him, right now. He leaned forward into you, one hand sliding around the back of your neck while the other cupped your cheek tenderly. Yours came up to grip at his biceps, fingers curling into the worn leather of his sleeves as if you were securing him place, making sure that he couldn’t slip away the way he did all those years ago. 
And when his hands moved down to your chair to drag you a little bit closer, you took that chance to take his face in yours, tracing the curve of his jaw lightly as his mouth moved against yours eagerly. 
Both of you seemed to realize that you were in a public place with lots of people around at the same time, pulling away from each other swollen lipped and a little breathless, but still with identical stupid grins on your faces. 
“Oh no,” You pouted, holding up your hand for him to see the splotches of black paint smudging your fingertips. “I ruined my hard work.” 
“Looks like you’re just gonna have to do them all over again.” 
“Looks like it.” 
“Can I make a request though?” You raised an eyebrow at his sheepish turned suspiciously giddy grin. “No more bats.” 
“I knew you hated them, you asshole!” 
“I said I didn’t hate them! They’re really good, but bats are just…not my thing.” 
“Says the boy with the bat tattoo.” 
Cocking his head to the side, Eddie ignored you, instead opting to lean in and kiss you again, and of all the ways he could’ve changed the subject, this was by far the best. 
Eddie had never been so grateful for his friends’ constant pestering and dragging him everywhere he didn’t want to go, because it led him back to you, the one that got away. Twelve year old Eddie knew it was you, current day Eddie knew it was you, and now you knew it too. 
He’d thank Steve and Dustin later when he had the time, but not now. Eddie was too busy planning out all the things he wanted to say to you and do with you before his luck turned and you were gone again. Though if he’s being honest, he doesn’t think you’re planning on leaving anytime soon. 
Neither are you. No way in hell were you thinking about leaving when coming back to Hawkins got you paint smudged fingers, some closure, and finally Eddie Munson. 
Even after all these years.
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whatyadrawin · 10 months
Text
The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -Chapter 3-
Minors DNI!
Masterlist
Approximately 2,682 words
Pairing: Thomas Hewitt(HeadCanon) x AFAB reader
This chapters Warnings: Strong language, use of derogatory terms, sexually suggestive language.
A/n: Two drawings took me so long, I feel very pathetic and unproductive but I am so happy to get the ball rolling. I can't wait to illustrate and submit chapter 4 because oooooh lord Tommy boy gon look good in it. I am also so excited to get writing the next few chapters, I have the fire in me and I don't want it to go out until I get a bunch of writing done lol. Please check the masterlist linked above for updates on progress.
Tag list: @fan-goddess
Chapter 3
The day begins with the sounds of birds happily chirping in the tree shading your backyard; a gentle breeze is washing over the land, cooling the heat away from the ground. You feel good today and decide it’s time for a cute yet practical outfit, so you grab some jean shorts, and a bright yellow tank top with a reliable pair of boots, you were ready to get things done. After eating some oatmeal purchased from Luda Mae’s store, you get your things ready to go drive to the next town and do some serious food shopping.
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The car is packed with some water and a snack or two, but before you hit the road you take a trip down to see Dover the farmhand to try and appease him one more time. The morning seems to be the best time to catch him, and you can see him watching TV through a window so you knock on the door gently and hear a groan, he answers the door and when he sees you, he rolls his eyes and says rudely,
“Whadya want?”
You put on a sincere smile and reply “Good morning, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?”
“Ya interrupted my peace, now what the hell d’ya want?” his tone is aggressive, but you continue,
“I just thought I might interest you in some new stuff for your home? I know you like how things are but I wanted to see if I could make it more comfortable, like a new T.V, or a new bed or whatever else.”
He throws his head back and sighs “Ya just don’ get it do ya? I don’ want yer fancy shit from the city, I don’ need nothin’ other’an this here orchard n’some peace! Why don’t ya just go play dress up with the Hewitts again, see if their retard son will play tea party with ya”
He slams the door on you. You feel sick with anger and knock again, this time more loudly.
Dover opens the door and screams “The fuck is yer problem?”
You try to keep your cool as you reply through gritted teeth “Why are you so mean to me? What did I ever do to you other than be kind and offer you help or nice things! You don’t even know my name!”
Dover’s eyebrows furl into and angry frown “This here land belongs t’me, stupid little girl. I worked fer years under that bitch Tilly, and the fact that she left everythin’ to some no-good kid who don’ deserve it, makes my skin crawl. If I had my way, this place’d be mine”
You look visibly confused “What is that supposed to mean?”
He then pauses and gets all flustered “Nothin’, nothin’ at all. You just let me do everythin’ here, soon ya gon’ realize ya don’t belong here and leave, if ya know what’s good fer ya. Now never come back to this house ever again or I’ll give ya somethin’ to cry ‘bout”
He slams the door again and you are shaking with rage, your eyes begin to well up with tears as you walk away back to your car. You set out on the drive to the next town and it feels like it lasts forever, the road is straight and flat, and the surroundings are just large swathes of yellow grass and wheat rushing past you as you speed up to shorten the distance. The sky is cloudless and the sun is blaring down on you causing your eyelids to weigh down, you decide to put on a playlist that only has bangers to energize you. Eventually you see the welcome sign for the next town and feel a sigh of relief.
 The town is small but you are able to spot a large Costco in the distance -Oh hell yeah, I can really stock up now-. You find a parking spot close to the door and as you walk in you get blasted by the air conditioning which feels so nice after that long, hot drive. You take your time through the aisles grabbing as many bulk items as you can, finding preserved goods that won’t immediately go bad, and some produce that would be able to last a little longer than others. Once your cart is fully maxed out with goods you head to the cashier who looks at you funny due to the number of things you are buying. They greet you,
“Hi Ma’am, all this for you?”
You smile, feeling a bit embarrassed “Yeah, I don’t live nearby any stores, just stocking up.”
They smile back “Oh yeah? Where ya comin’ from?”
You reply “Fuller”
The cashier squints her eyes in curiosity “Fuller? Where’s that at?”
You are a little surprised by their response, but with how desolate the town is their response makes sense, you say,
“It’s a... um, well…a dead town near the Oklahoma border”
They tilt their head as they scan your Costco card “Must be real dead if I ain’t never heard of it.”
“Yeah, it is” you give a little chuckle and they continue,
“Well, alright then, I’ll get yer stuff boxed here and you can be back on yer way to the dead town.”
You finish paying and thank the cashier, then you start wheeling your cart back to the car when a very old man approaches you.
“You came from Fuller?” he says
You reply “Yeah, do you know it?”
He pauses, then says “I know it. That town used to have a lot people go missing after the businesses left. Why’re you out there?”
“I inherited an orchard” you say quietly
He places his hand on his chin “Oh? So, there’s still somethin’ left huh. Be careful ma’am, that town ain’t safe from what I know. The people ain’t right, if there’s any people left.”
You feel extremely confused “Ok, uh, thanks?”
You open the trunk and fill it with the bags wondering what he could possibly mean by people going missing, and the citizens being not right.
The drive back felt a lot faster; you were running what that old man had said through your head, -he must be talking about Dover, or maybe some urban legend-. You have experienced gossip and falsehoods about your own town back home before, so it didn’t seem so absurd to have a random stranger tell you something odd. You arrive back at the house by 1pm, happy to have been so productive today, you begin to unload the car and get everything into the house.
All the groceries get put away and you decide to start baking a batch of chocolate chip muffins for the Hewitts since they have been nothing but nice to you, and it’s the first time in a long while where you feel comfortable around other people; you are hopeful of making new long-term friends with the Hewitts. You bake 24 muffins since you assume that Tommy likely eats a lot and maybe hasn’t had a baked pastry in a while. When the muffins are done baking you take them out of the oven and put them in the little basket you brought the fruit over in, you cover the muffins with a cheesecloth and make your way over.
You walk up the driveway and look to the barn but don’t see Tommy there, just a group of chickens clucking around. You knock on the door which gets answered by Charlie who says,
“Well, well, well, what we got here? Bringin’ us somethin’ good sweetheart?”
You blush and reply “Yeah, I baked some muffins for all of you”
“Well, ain’t you sweet. Come in girlie, Luda’s gonna wanna say hi” he waves you in
You didn’t like how he stared at you but he seemed mostly harmless, he calls out into the house
“Luda! The neighbor girl is here!”
Luda Mae comes out from the kitchen drying her hands with a towel “Oh hi dear! What a welcome surprise to see you. What brings you by?”
You smile, Luda Mae is such a welcoming and kind person, you say “I baked some muffins for everyone, as a thank you for inviting me over the other day, and kindness you have all shown me”
“That is so thoughtful of you! I hope you know you’re welcome to come by anytime dear, you don’t need to bring gifts every visit, your company is enough” she says sincerely.
You feel very accepted among this strange small-town family you say “It was no big deal really, I went to the next town over to get groceries and picked up some ingredients to make sweet things to share”
Luda Mae tilts her head and smiles indicating how impressed she is by your kindness and generosity, she follows with “Well Tommy will just love these, I guess you must’ve known that he doesn’t get to eat baked goods often”
She calls out for him to come upstairs and you immediately get butterflies in your stomach, they make you feel nauseous and excited. You hear heavy, thudding footsteps and the house gently rattles as Tommy makes his way up to the living room from what you assume is the basement.  He stops in his tracks the second he looks up and sees you; his eyes were shrouded in shadow from his hair and thick brows but despite the darkness, the brilliant blue looking back at you was vivid and bright; his long hair was roughly tousled and draped down to the nape of his neck in curly dark brown tendrils.
You finally got to see him even closer and you lose your breath with just how incredibly huge this giant of a man is compared to your own height, his chest is so wide it would enshroud your entire body if you hid behind it, his thick pectorals heaving with every breath under his worn-down short sleeve blouse. His legs were massive and covered by a pair of very worn and dirty jeans, they were hanging onto by a worn belt that had a large belt buckle, oxidized by time. You immediately felt a tinge of ancient animal fear from the obvious difference in power his body displayed, he could kill you in seconds if he wanted to but beneath his brutish exterior you could sense there was someone worth taking a chance on.
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You wished to be able to see the rest of his face but it was hidden behind a dark leathery mask which was tactfully sewn together, there was only a small slit near his mouth for air to pass through, you wondered what he was hiding if he was already this impressive.
Luda Mae sighs and says,
“Thomas, don’t be shy, Y/N brought us some sweets, say thank you”
He holds his stare on you, he had never seen someone as breathtaking as yourself and your clothes did nothing to hide your robust, curvaceous figure, you didn’t look like someone who could easily break if he were to touch you but your height was barely a third of his own. He couldn’t help but find you simultaneously gorgeous and cute which was a perplexing and new feeling he welcomed. He suddenly snaps out of his trance when Luda Mae clears her throat, he then nods slowly as he shifts his eye contact from you and turns to leave quickly back down the stairs.
Luda Mae shakes her head “Excuse him, he takes a bit to warm up to people he likes”
“What about the people he doesn’t like?” You shocked yourself with your comment, it seemed to have just come out against your will.
Luda Mae looks at the floor and clenches the towel “Oh… haha well, don’t worry yourself about that hun. He likes you; one can tell that plain from the way he’s behavin’ ”
You let out a giggle and try to hide from the heat building up in your cheeks, Luda Mae notices this and smiles, Charlie sees this too and rudely barks in,
“Good thing y’got a crush on him because the people who don’t like him? Well, Girlie, you don’t wanna be them.”
Luda Mae drops her smile and snaps “YOU HUSH UP RIGHT THIS SECOND! THOMAS AIN’T DONE NOTHING WRONG!”
Charlie just laughs and wanders off, Luda Mae looks at you and says,
“I’m so sorry ‘bout him dear, he’s got such bad manners, does whatever he wants.” She places her hands on her hips and squints in the direction Charlie wandered off.
You reply “It’s alright. You know, Thomas seems to not want to be around me every time I come here. I hope I am not seeming like an intrusion to him.”
Luda Mae gets a worried look and says “Oh sweetheart, as his mama I can tell you with full certainty that he likes when you come over. He asked about you the other day, wondering who you are”
You try to suppress the smile forming on your lips, “I didn’t know he spoke. I would love to get to know him better” for some reason you kept saying bold statements despite your mind protesting the revealing honesty.
Luda Mae smiles at you “He speaks to the people he feels comfortable with, so far that’s only been me and sometimes Charlie. I think you may have to make an effort with Thomas dear, he is going to be like taming a wild animal, so you have your work cut out for you”
You continue a bit of small talk about the town you visited and then take your leave back down the drive way to home. The walk back makes you think of so many scenarios in which you would be able to speak with Tommy, he seemed like he would have a lot to say. The prospect of making Tommy trust you and having such a unique friend was overstimulating and got you so excited that you didn’t notice Dover come out of the bushes next to you, making you jump from being startled. He gives you a dirty look and says,
“Seems like yer makin’ friends with them Hewitt folk. What a stupid girl ya are. You know their sons a violent sort dontcha?”
You have had enough of Dover and his cruelty, you reply,
“I thought you wanted to be left alone? Besides, Thomas is really shy, he doesn’t seem violent”
Dover laughs “Ya really are dumber’n ya look! That retard would string ya up and eat ya alive if you don’t get the hell outta here”
You stop walking and face Dover “Why are you telling me this? It seems like you don’t care if I live or die so what would it matter to you if he DID eat me alive?”
He stops and looks at you “I DON’T CARE IF YA GET BURNED ALIVE!”
You stare at him, saying nothing, and he awkwardly looks around, expecting you to get mad, he follows
“Ya like that fool dontcha? Yer fixin’ to have him split yer birthin’ bits in two huh?”
You sneer at the crass statement “What is wrong with you? If you don’t need anything from me then please just go find the peace you claim to want, and let me live my life”
You continue walking away and he yells back after you “Those fuckers ate people ya know! Next theyr’ gon’ eat YOU! Have fun fuckin’ a cannibal man, ya dummy!”
You keep walking and make your way to the front door of your home, the words said to you by Dover were heinous but they did make you think, -He might be right, Luda Mae and her family say some really weird things a lot and seem to change the subject when things get too suspicious. At this point, I don’t care anymore… this is my only chance to have a normal life and have friends, maybe even family. I’m going to continue Tilly’s legacy, if not for her… then for all the people who seem to actually care about me-
Next chapter-
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cult-of-the-eye · 11 months
Text
Mag 81 A Guest for Mr Spider
FUCK FORMER HEAD ARCHIVIST
Wait I need to check the timelines - this was 2 days after leitner's death
New spooky music???
My man is so fucking dramatic I love him so much "grand of sand behind my eye" love the way he speaks
Yeah FUCK JURGEN LEITNER
Omg the greying hair is canon??
Child in the 90s makes him at most 27 GOD DAMN. I was imagining like mid 30s...can you imagine a fucking 27 yr old using words like "ilk" when talking to you
Oh shit he's an orphan poor guy
Yeah ok a lot of his personality seems to make sense if you realise he was raised by his grandma
You know those memes that are like people raised by their grandparents are exceptionally polite but in a brisk way, talk fancy and are super posh? Yeah that's him.
Getting such neurodivergent vibes
Yeah he sounds like a main character from the start Jesus Christ he's such a kid who got traumatised and then grows up to be a horror protagonist vibes
My First Leitner lol like kids had to be introduced to them at a young age like those my first toys
He's so funny I can just imagine him as an 8 yr old getting super like affronted at this like how dare my grandma think I am of subpar intelligence he's such a little bitch from the start
"The eponymous Mr spider" even talking about his childhood trauma he's busting out the vocabulary
Fuck that story actually kinda rattled me I had my hand over my mouth in shock for most of it
I think it was the bit where the horsefly brought his son and they were both crying that got me, I could definitely imagine it scaring an 8 yr old
The way it drags out as well, with the pages of the same scene it really heightens the suspense
Is his childhood bully someone we should keep track of?? Love how he says Michael probably cause he sees him as a bully lol
It's interesting how despite him bullying him (quite badly seeing as though he beat him up) he's still like yeah but he saved my life and that means he deserves to be remembered
My bro didn't save your life on purpose, he was just trying to make it worse and happened to come to a terrible fate cause of that
I guess underneath it all he was still a kid who watched someone die, knowing they'd get eaten by a fucking spider, he still held him in some regard
The way he specified the guy was his bully even after he was being eaten though lol
He was desperate to get the book back? That's a leitner thing I guess, the book makes you want to keep it so it can finish whatever it wanted to do to you
On my relisten (which I will do once I've finished the series I'm sure of it), I'll have to look out for any reaction of leitners name
I wonder why Jon didn't react more to Carlos vittery's statement, like it must've terrified him? I saw a post a while back explaining Jon's thoughts and IT WAS GENIUS it was like of course he doesn't react, he must be terrified that someone knew about his experience and somehow did this to mess with him or it was a joke and he can't let anyone know that the Head Archivist is not Good at This ugh it's so good I'll tag it if I can find it
AHHHHH HE REGRETS DISMISSING THE OTHER STATEMENTS AHHHHHH
HE FINALLY ADMITS THAT HE NEEDS HELP WE LOVE THIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT YES YOU FUCKING DO BITCH.
yeah at least he's right about Elias killing leitner
GEORGIE THE EX GIRLFIEND
ITS SO WEIRD TO SEE HIM ACTUALLY NICE TO SOMEONE WOW HIS VOICE CHANGES SLIGHTLY AS WELL HES LESS ACADEMIC
THE ADMIRAL
Awwww he's so cute with georgie
GHOST PODCAST GHOST PODCAST
THE WHAT THE GHOST T SHIRT IS CANON???? AHH THATS SO CUTE
Can he not go back to his own flat?? Did he bring all his clothes to the archive and then subsequently leave them there? Does he even have a flat??
God Georgie is so nice I would kill for her
It's so funny that an apparent supernatural cynic dated a ghost podcaster
WOW SEASON 3 OFF TO AN AMAZING START I CANT WAIT TO KEEP LISTENING IM GONNA TELL MY THERAPIST ABOUT THIS TOMORROW!!!
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barbex · 6 months
Note
Lovely Friday to you <3 For DADWC, I'd love to see “Stay here tonight.” for Anders and Fenris? <3
Hello and thank you for this prompt for @dadrunkwriting. As always, Fenris and Anders were very inspiring.
---
Anders still can't quite believe it. Fenris invited him to a game of cards with Varric and Donnik, at his place. He stares at the weathered door of the mansion, still not sure if he should really go in. Why would Fenris invite him, without Hawke around? It makes no sense. 
Their friendship — no, that is too much. Their mutual tolerance depends on their friends being around, especially Hawke. Aside from Hawke's frankly terrifying proficiency with force magic, he also has the ability to form a bunch of weirdos into a group of friends. It even works on Fenris and him, the two of them haven't fought in months. It's like a special kind of magic he has.
Anders finally opens the door, clutching the handkerchief with his contribution for the evening to his chest. He can't afford to buy the fancy wine Fenris prefers, but hopefully, the cheese fingers he baked in Lirene's oven are good enough as a small gift. 
Voices come from the main hall and the light of a fire shines into the hallway through a gap in the door. Anders walks forward, drawn to the warmth promised by the fire. The wind from the Waking Sea blows through Kirkwall's streets at this time of the year, even in his coat he feels cold all the time.
Before the others can notice him, he stops near the door, hidden from view. He still feels like an intruder, like he doesn't really belong here. He often feels like that to be honest. It's only when Hawke is around, pulling them all into his orbit, that he doesn't feel like he's the nagging baggage they have to carry around. 
Varric laughs, recounting some tale to Donnic, pouring wine into his glass. Donnic's face is flushed, they must have started early if he is already so deep in his cups. Anders sighs, no, it must be later than he thought. It was a busy day at the clinic and then that young woman came in with her baby, just as he wanted to close. He lost track of time and now he's too late.
He looks at Fenris, sitting on the narrow side of the table, facing the door. He looks relaxed, not quite as flushed as Varric and Donnic, but he is in better training holding his wine. He smiles at the joke Varric is making and Maker, it's unbearable how beautiful he looks with that smile. Anders stands transfixed, hiding in the shadow, watching like a kid staring at a bowl of sweets he can't have. Like a creep. 
He should leave. 
But he made the cheese fingers. Maybe Fenris would like to try them. He doesn't have to stay long, just give him the cheesy things and be off again.
With a breath, he pulls the door further open and steps in. 
"Anders," Varric calls out, "glad you could make it!"
"Sorry I'm late. There was an emergency at the clinic..." He makes to put the handkerchief with his offering on the table when he sees the loose pile of Diamondback cards. "You wanted to play Diamondback." The game needs four players and because he didn't arrive on time, they couldn't play. "Sorry." 
"It was no problem," Fenris says. "We were entertained just fine." His voice sounds so warm that Anders blinks, doubting his own ears. 
"Well, still, I shouldn't have left you hanging." He puts the handkerchief on the table and folds the corner to the sides, revealing the fereldan speciality. "These are cheese fingers, like they make them in Ferelden. Let me know if you like them." He turns around and practically runs to the door.
"Mage?" Fenris calls after him but he doesn't stop. He embarrassed himself enough for one night, he doesn't need more awkwardness and polite dismissals.
"Mage." Fenris is right behind him, however he managed to be so fast. "Anders."
Hearing his name, from Fenris of all people, has him stop, just before he reaches the frontdoor. "Sorry, I'm just gonna leave."
"Why?"
A strange laugh escapes him. Maker, is he going to get hysterics now? "I don't know why you even invited me, I'm sure Varric and Donnic wonder about that too."
"No, they don't." 
Another strange laugh, sounding suspiciously like he's about to start crying and no, he's not going to do that. "I'm..."
"We are friends, with or without Hawke." Fenris puts his hand on Anders' elbow and gently steers him back towards the main hall. "Maybe you and I are not close, not yet. But what better way to change that than over wine and cheese pokers?"
"Fingers, cheese fingers," Anders corrects automatically, his mind still spinning in several directions over what Fenris said. There are questions bubbling in there somewhere but he can't get himself to ask any of them and then he is back at the table, sitting in a sinfully comfortable stuffed chair and Fenris fills a glass of wine for him. 
The wine makes everything a little bit easier, but with his Warden stamina and Justice in the background, he doesn't get drunk. But he can play an easy drunk, he's done that plenty of times and it makes it easy to laugh about silly jokes that aren't even that funny but Varric laughs and Donnic laughs and Fenris — Fenris looks at him and smiles.
It's enough to stop a man's heart.
The evening progresses quickly, his cheese fingers get praised, and at some point Fenris brings a carafe of water and Anders and him switch to water instead of wine. When Varric yawns and Donnic wipes his eyes, Anders fills their glasses with water. "There, you both drink that, then you won't suffer so much in the morning."
"Ugh, don't like that," Varric slurs. 
"Healer's orders."
Fenris glances at Anders, smiling as if they share a joke between them. Like friends. He isn't sure his heart can take much more of this. What is happening? Is Fenris really looking at him like that, smiling, flirting? Or is this just his wishful imagination?
"We should take them both home," Fenris says. 
"Good idea. They would be easy pickings in this state."
They deliver Donnic to Aveline's door, who thanks them and glares at her husband with a mixture of fondness and annoyance. And then they drag Varric between them to the Hanged Man. He insists on bidding them good night at the door, wanting to keep his reputation by going to his suite without their help. 
And then they're alone. They walk, silently, back to Hightown, to Fenris' mansion. Which is ridiculous, he could have just taken one of the ladders down to Darktown from Lowtown. He could have just given his farewells right there at the Hanged Man, like he has done hundreds of times after an evening with Hawke and Varric and the rest of the gang. 
"Your cheese pokers were really good," Fenris says, haltingly. 
"Cheese fingers. Thanks. I found the recipe in a cookbook at an inn in Ferelden and making the cheese fingers paid for a bed for one night." 
"You were a baker?" Fenris smiles at him from under a curtain of white hair, which hopefully hides Anders' furious blush from him.
"No, there's not many opportunities for travelling bakers without their own flour supply." They fall silent again and the awkwardness drives him crazy. "Fenris, thank you for inviting me tonight, but..." As if someone tipped over a bucket, rain splatters down on them. "Aw, shit." Within seconds, his coat is soaked, hanging like dead weight on his shoulders. 
"Come." Fenris grabs his arm and pulls him forward, running up the stairs and through the grand roads of Hightown. The wind picks up as thunder rolls over the sky and Anders would have shivered if he wasn't so hot from running up those damn stairs. 
"Stop, stop," he wheezes. Rain runs down his neck and back but he doesn't care, he has to catch his breath for a minute. Why is he even doing this? "You... you can just go, right? You don't need me to take you home. And I'm —"
Fenris steps in front of him, staring at him with wide eyes. "No."
"No?" Anders wipes wet hair from his forehead. By now he must look like a drowned rat. "Fenris, what is going on? What is..." he gestures between them. "What is this?"
The expression on Fenris' face lies somewhere between confusion and panic. "I hoped you would know."
"Me?" He can't help but laugh, genuinely. "You don't even know what an emotional disaster I am. And I'm supposed to know?"
Fenris just looks at him. 
"Fuck it. If I'm supposed to know, here's what I know." Anders steps closer, touches the side of Fenris' face, and kisses him. 
Fenris doesn't even hesitate. As if he just waited for Anders, he throws his arms around Anders' neck and kisses him back like his life depends on it. 
"Oh," Anders breathes against Fenris' lips. 
"Yes," Fenris whispers, pressing his forehead against Anders'. "Come." He takes Anders' hand and pulls him after him.
The rain still beats down, but Anders floats on clouds, not even aware of where he's going. Finally, the door to the mansion closes behind them and he can let the weight of his wet coat slide from his shoulders. 
Fenris wipes over Anders' shoulders, pressing close. Anders leans down, brushing his nose into his hair.
"I don't want to be indecent," Anders says. "But we should get out of these wet things."
Fenris nods, stepping closer and pressing a kiss to Anders' neck. "I don't mean to rush, but I want you to stay here."
"Tonight," Anders whispers as his lips brush over Fenris' temple.
"And tomorrow night." Fenris kisses along Anders' neck. "And the night after that."
Anders shudders from Fenris' kisses. "And the night after that?"
Fenris leans back, green eyes fixing Anders in time and space. "And the night after that."
Brushing hair out of Fenris' face, Anders holds his gaze. "And then we'll see."
Stretching up on his toes, Fenris kisses his lips. "Yes, and then we'll see."
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