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fruitcoops · 2 years ago

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Lakehouse Loving

On the Ninth Day of Nutmas, fruitcoops gave to you: smut from the Cubs’ honeymoon!

This is the first time I’ve ever written O’Knutzy smut outside of server story spams--big big big thank you to @arrowofcarnations and @heyitssmiller for doing a readthrough and assuaging my fears. You are both outstanding Cubs writers (and more importantly, friends). Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut and oodles of cutie goodness

The door opened and closed. Logan smiled, tilting his face up toward the water. Rustling followed; the shower curtain crinkled as it moved; a warm body pressed up along his back, big hands settling on his hips. “Mmm, bonjour,” he sighed.

“Hey, cher,” Leo murmured into a kiss above his ear as Logan rested his head against a sharp collarbone and cracked an eye open. Leo’s hair was darkening already, turning from spun sugar to gold beneath the spray. His eyes glittered with amusement, and he pressed a last kiss to Logan’s forehead before taking the soap from the caddy and lathering it between his palms.

“I was using that,” Logan noted.

Leo nuzzled into his cheek; he didn’t even try to keep down a smile. It had been an impossible task, as of late. The soap made Leo’s hands slick when he slid them up Logan’s arms and down his sides, then around his waist to cup his ass.

“Can I help you?” he laughed.

A light squeeze of Leo’s hands made his stomach curl pleasantly. “Harzy’ll be back soon.”

“Oui.”

“I know you like him sweaty, but I have an idea.”

Logan grinned.

“Babes, I’m home!” Finn called, kicking his shoes off and tossing his keys on the side table at the same time. Leo hardly spared him a hum of acknowledgment as he scanned a page of his cookbook against the kitchen island, pink-cheeked from the crackling fire in the living room and the warmth of Logan plastered to his back. Finn caught Logan’s eye and shot him a wink. “Hey, good-lookin’.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“Shower,” Leo reminded without looking up.

Finn blew him a kiss. “Always do, sweetness.”

The pipes creaked and hissed for a moment before settling down—Finn stripped out of his damp clothes while the water warmed up and contemplated calling for his boys to join him, then thought better of it. Leo seemed pretty absorbed in his recipe, and Logan would pout if he tried to coax him away from cuddles. The mere thought was unbearable.

His fingers and toes tingled when he stepped under the spray and he hummed to himself, flexing his hands to get blood flowing again. The flight from Gryffindor to Madison had made him restless—he was grateful for the wide, winding trails that surrounded the cabin. Leo had shooed him out with a fond go on, Lo’s still showering and a kiss that kept him warm for the next fifteen minutes, even as he jogged past foot-high snowbanks. Finn smiled to himself as he rinsed the shampoo from his hair. Nearly a decade of loving Leo Knut so much his chest ached with it, and he would never tire of his pure sunshine heart.

It was sweet that he got to have some one-on-one time with Logan, too. None of them had been able to stray far from each other since the wedding; Finn rubbed an absent thumb over his ring and felt giddiness swell in his whole body, quickening his pulse that had only just begun to calm. They were saving the big ceremony for the summer, but once the certificate was approved, none of them had the heart to wait for a honeymoon. All the documents called it ‘domestic partnership’—the vocabulary didn’t matter. They were married in every way they cared about. Leo and Logan would be his forever, and he would be theirs, and that was that.

Finn had thought he found the peak of happiness at age 24. Months from his 31st birthday, he couldn’t wait to see what the future held for them.

He grabbed the nearest washcloth (still damp, definitely Logan’s) and scrubbed at the back of his neck. Remus was kind enough to loan them his family’s cabin for the week, but it made him wonder. A little place of their own for weekend getaways wouldn’t be so bad. God knew they had enough disposable income for it, and with Leo’s retirement on the horizon…yeah, that wasn’t a bad idea at all. He loved coming home to Leo studying his recipes like holy books while Logan—

“OH MY GOD!”

The shower pipes squeaked in protest as he wrenched the water off and stumbled out of the tub, snatching a towel off the rack before hurrying back to the kitchen. He could hear them laughing all the way down the hall.

“You—motherfucker!” Finn accused, jabbing his finger at Logan.

“Leo, actually,” Logan said with an innocent kiss to Leo’s shoulder. “You should know that by now.”

“You did this on purpose!” he sputtered. “That’s why you wanted me out of the house! You didn’t care about getting my energy out! This was a trap!”

Leo blinked at him, smiling sweetly where he was stretched over the kitchen island. His arms were long enough that he could hold on to the opposite edge; his fingers flexed on the old wood when Logan ground into him deeper. In the five minutes Finn had been gone, both of them had abandoned their shirts. Their pants, it seemed, had never been involved in the equation.

“You can still get your energy out, cher,” Leo said with a gleam in his eye. “Are you gonna watch, or are you gonna get over here and kiss me?”

“I don’t know,” Logan cut in, giving Leo’s hips a playful squeeze. “It took him a while to notice.”

Finn opened and closed his mouth twice before any words came out. “Hey,” he finally whined. “I didn’t even get to wash my hair.”

Leo gave a catlike stretch and beckoned him over. “Later. Where’s my kiss, hubs?”

Hubs. Finn felt himself sway before the rest of Leo’s request caught up to him—he abandoned the towel and hurried over to pull him close, taking in Leo’s contented sigh like ambrosia. Logan laughed beside them and Finn felt a hand at his lower back a moment later, followed by a kiss to his bicep. It sent lightning down his spine like the very first time. “Do I get one, too?”

“Mmm—one sec,” Finn mumbled as Leo’s tongue swept forward. His stomach felt tingly, his hands restless; he wanted to touch. Leo practically purred when he reached out to stroke along the stretch of his spine. “You’re beautiful.”

“Your hands are cold,” Leo whispered into his mouth, nipping at his lower lip with a playful growl. “Bet I can warm them up.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

A high, shocked noise escaped Leo at a quick thrust from Logan; Finn felt the hand on his back draw him closer, fingertips tracing tantalizing circles over the sensitive skin before coming around to walk up his chest. He watched them, openmouthed, until Logan caught his jaw between two fingers and guided him in for a kiss that would have melted his teenage self through the floor.

I died, he thought wildly as Logan cupped the back of his neck and deepened the kiss. A crazed chipmunk got me on my run, and I’ve died and gone to heaven. Logan’s heavy breaths fanned over his skin, matching the rhythm of his thrusts into Leo. Heat radiated off them like a furnace; Finn wanted to crawl inside it and never leave. He put a hand out for balance and felt Leo’s moan vibrate up his arm where it was braced between his shoulders.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, already dazed from a lack of blood flow upward.

“No, no, no,” Leo groaned. “Hold me, hold me—uh, Lo.”

Logan broke the kiss in spite of Finn’s whine and turned to bite a mark into the hinge of his jaw. The momentary pinch sent pleasure flashing through every nerve—Logan’s satisfied hum and swipe of his thumb over a surely-blooming bruise made Finn shudder. “You want me to—” He broke off, licking his lips while the kitchen came back into focus. Logan arched an amused brow. “You want me?”

“I always want you,” Logan said affectionately. His rings were smooth on Finn’s skin, breaking up the rough pattern of his calluses. “But I think someone else needs attention right now, mmm?”

“I do,” Leo answered immediately. He gave a shimmy of his hips, working further backward onto Logan’s cock until he got a swat for his troubles.

Finn blinked at him. Blinked again. “Oh!” There were those neurons he had lost. Goddamn Logan Tremblay, stealing his thoughts for 13 years running. “Oh, right, yeah, of course baby.”

The hardwood made his knees ache when he knelt; Logan was kind enough to nudge a pair of discarded sweatpants toward him. It really was so rude of them to start without him, but he couldn’t complain. The view was pretty great, sandwiched between Leo’s thick thighs and the kitchen island. He nibbled and kissed the soft, pale skin, tasting soap and sweat as he went. Leo whimpered quietly at the first lick to the underside of his cock, but Finn only took the first inch of him into his mouth before returning to worshipping his favorite pair of legs.

Leo’s knees were already bent slightly to accommodate their position when Finn wrapped his hands around the backs, holding him steady. The muscles of his lower stomach jumped and shivered—he sucked a line of faint marks down Leo’s Adonis belt before biting a little harder at the divot in his hip. It always made him howl when they gripped him tighter there, and sure enough, a broken noise was muffled somewhere above him. Finn shifted his knees more comfortably on his sweatpants-pillow and went to work.

Was he devoted to his boys—his husbands—like a priest to an altar? Yes. Would he spend the rest of his life loving them and letting their words of praise pour over him? Without a doubt. Was he opposed to employing his education as a college slut to the loves of his life?

Leo’s short shout at the flicker of Finn’s tongue on his tip confirmed the answer: absolutely fucking not.

Finn had never given someone a blowjob until Leo and Logan. To be honest, it had been daunting even with them. But then they told him things like pretty mouth and pretty face and you take me so well and…safe to say, his curriculum had expanded. Finn savored the slide of Leo’s cock over his tongue, the light press against the back of his throat. What he lacked in a talent for taking them deep, he more than made up for in enthusiasm. And his hands. They did like his hands an awful lot.

Leo’s breaths punched out of him in rhythmic wheezes that set Finn’s pace like a metronome. He bobbed his head faster, jacked Leo quicker, thumbed below his balls where he could feel Logan so hot and so close it made his head spin. “Oh my god—oh my god—” Leo choked out, knees buckling. “FinnFinnFinnFinn god keep going.”

Finn moaned softly. Precum spilled from Leo in a steady stream as his cock grew heavy, silky-smooth in Finn’s mouth while he worked along the underside. Logan’s thighs flexed in his periphery and his mouth watered at the rumble of his voice pouring pure French filth into Leo’s ear. Logan’s hand disappeared from its place holding Leo by the waist and Finn closed his eyes at the strangled groan that followed.

“You like that?” Logan asked, a smile in his voice. Finn’s cock throbbed. Yes. “Come on, mon cher, use your words.”

I can’t, he thought for a half-second before Leo’s noises picked up again. “Yeah—yeah—yes,” Leo panted. “Oh, fuck, so full.”

He could hear the sound of Logan’s lips finding freckled skin for a chaste kiss. “Harzy’s being good for you, too.”

Leo’s whimper of agreement was drowned out by Finn’s involuntary moan. Yes I am, yes I am.

“You��re so clever,” Logan continued, his accent thick like syrup. Finn exhaled hard through his nose at the pulse in his cock and gripped Leo’s thighs tighter. He would not risk going off this early, no matter how addictive this feeling was. A big hand threaded into his hair and his jaw relaxed instinctively; Logan petted the damp wisps out of his face. “So clever, pinotte, with your plans. Pour toujours, oui?”

A low sound tore from Leo and warmth spilled into Finn’s mouth without warning. He swallowed over and over until a hand, clumsier than Logan’s, pushed him off by covering half his face. His knees were numb; he licked his lips again, foggy and so hard it almost hurt.

Only the lower part of Leo’s face was visible when he looked up—pink colored his chest, neck, and cheeks while sweat made him glimmer in the orange light. His chest heaved with harsh breaths and Finn rested the back of his head against the cabinets to admire the marks along his trembling thighs. “So handsome,” he sighed, a little hoarse. His jaw was going to ache when he came back down to Earth.

Leo smiled, the adorable, bashful one he got when he was particularly pleased with himself. The rest of his face appeared a second later when he rested his forehead on the edge of the counter and brushed his thumb down Finn’s nose. “You look good down there, sugar.” Something sparked in his eye. “Mon mari.”

Finn kissed the inside of his knee. “What’s that one?”

“Husband,” they said together.

“Oh, big fan.”

“Good,” Leo hummed, still tracing his face. “I think I want to use it for a while.”

Finn grinned. “Is that so?”

“Sure is.”

“Gonna need to make it legal.”

He heard Logan snort; Leo’s grin grew. “Already did.”

His knees panged and wobbled when he stood to taste that smile, but Leo caught him neatly under the arms with a hand stretched out so they wouldn’t topple. Behind him, Logan made a noise of interest; Finn jumped at the light pinch to his hip. “How was your run?”

“ ‘s good.” Leo turned his head to kiss down the length of his neck and blood rushed south again. “So good.”

“Any bears?” A kiss feathered his collarbone, sweetened by Logan’s grin. “Moose?”

“Saw—hmm, birds, mostly.” Finn ran his palms up and down Leo’s sides, following the lines of his ribs and squishy muscle. “Couple squirrels.”

Their mouths met at the hollow of his throat and he bit the inside of his cheek at the sound. “You’ll have to show us around,” Leo murmured as he gently crowded Finn against the counter. Fingertips crept over his sensitive waist, growing closer by the second to the place he needed them.

“Lo, you—” A moan was stifled by Leo’s mouth and a tremor ran through Finn’s whole body. He wanted to brace against the kitchen island, wanted to pull Leo close to kiss him breathless, wanted to reach back to drag Logan in and take him apart. He let himself sink for a few more seconds, then drew back an inch. “Lo, your turn?”

Leo’s smirk was world-ending. “Like I’d let him go before filling me up.”

“Already got mine, rouge,” Logan confirmed, nibbling his bicep.

Finn cracked a lazy smile. “Since when has that ever stopped you?”

Logan’s laugh was loud in the otherwise-quiet cabin; Finn opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of his nose scrunching before he pushed his face into Leo’s back, like he was hiding from them both. “He’s got you pinned, Tremblay,” Leo teased, turning to look over his shoulder.

Logan’s eyes gleamed. “You still won’t take my name, hmm?”

“We’ll roll dice.” Leo lowered his voice and bent to nudge their noses together. “Maybe rock, paper, scissors.”

“Get over here,” Finn breathed. “God, both of you, c’mere.”

Logan found his mouth first, gathering the back of Finn’s hair in his hand to bring him down into a bruising kiss that was soon soothed by the peppering of plush lips over his entire face. “I’ll put it on my email signature,” Logan said into his cheekbone. Finn fought to keep his eyes open. “Logan O’Hara-Knut. Has a nice ring to it.”

“Paint it on the mailbox, get it printed on a door sign,” Leo suggested. Fuck me. Finn whined as Leo gave him a light stroke and heard him laugh. “Yeah, baby, you love that domestic shit.”

“Mmph, I do, I do, I fucking—” Finn’s breath hitched when Leo squeezed gently. “—love you, oh my god.”

And they were right, was the thing; he was a romantic through and through. Their names on the mailbox might just make him keel over from joy. The mere thought of it was giving him a raging boner. He pressed the side of his face to Logan’s and clutched Leo’s shoulder as Leo picked up speed, moving smoothly along his shaft with the occasional tease of his tip that made his heart skip a beat and his stomach tumble.

Finn breathed through it, pulling the feeling out to the dregs. Logan mouthed at him, any bit of skin he could reach, and the scent of his sweat and shampoo made Finn dizzy with love. Or, not his shampoo—Leo’s. His thoughts flooded with the idea of them in the shower together, big hands sliding over wet, slick skin, steam curling around them, water burying their moans…

“Fuck, fuck, I’m close,” he shuddered out. A noise caught in his chest when Leo squeezed him again, then released him. His cock throbbed against his lower belly; he could feel himself twitch every few seconds and focused on keeping his feet on solid ground while Logan scratched along the back of his neck. His skin was so soft beneath Finn’s hands it didn’t feel real. This would be the most beautiful dream, he thought hazily. Logan gasped at the swipe of his thumb over his hole. This would be a dream I would live in forever.

“Mon mari.” It was clumsy on his tongue, but Logan’s moan went low and rumbly. “Je t’aime.”

“Look at you,” Leo said fondly. He pressed along Finn’s back a beat later, already half-hard again against his ass. The slide of his hands was fucking covetous; he handled Finn like he was made of stained glass, kissed him like the most delicate statue. His nose was cold when it pressed behind Finn’s ear. “Sweet thing, learning just for us.”

Logan’s fingers traced the dripping head of his cock and Finn let out a harsh exhale. “You sound good, mon amour.” The maddening circles made his jaw clench, until Leo’s hand came up to pull it back down. “You’ve been practicing.”

“Years,” Finn panted. “Good—good teachers.”

Logan’s other hand closed around his base and he keened, sensitive and aching. Leo’s teeth grazed his earlobe and he grabbed the countertop to steady himself. “Wanna fuck your husband, Harzy?”

“Which one?” he asked, a little delirious at the idea that he could ask that, now.

“Bullshit, ‘which one’,” Logan scoffed. His hand sped up for a moment and Finn’s breath hitched at the sudden build, then the crash as he stopped moving altogether. “What, you think I can’t take care of our Peanut?”

Leo shivered pleasantly behind him. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Lo,” Finn said, breathless and nearly laughing if it weren’t for the pulse pounding in his head. He had seen Logan fuck Leo utterly senseless one day and ride him until he begged the next. It was a credit to Leo’s stamina (and many, many practice sessions) that he was even standing right now.

“Hmph.” Logan began to move his hands again, rubbing over the crown to gather what Finn was sure had become an embarrassing amount of precum. He cracked one eye open and saw a smile tug at Logan’s lips before he carefully schooled his expression and kissed the point of Finn’s nose. “Don’t doubt me, O’Hara.”

“Tremblay-Knut,” he and Leo corrected in unison.

A pleased blush spread over Logan’s cheeks and he kissed him softly. “Make it up to me, mon mari.”

“Yes, please.”

Logan stuck his tongue out and released him, surveying the kitchen with a skeptical eye before hopping up on the kitchen island. “We’ll have to clean this place before going home,” he noted as Finn stepped between his legs with an appreciate rub of his thighs. “I would feel bad, making Loops deal with it.”

“Or anyone else,” Leo agreed. He guided Logan to lay back and moved to the other side with a last kiss to the top of Finn’s head.

“That,” Finn began, leaving a lingering kiss to Logan’s tattoo. “Is a problem for another day. Lube?”

Logan snorted and tossed it to him. He stretched his arms over his head and found Leo’s hands with a happy sigh as Finn poured a generous amount out and parted his legs with the span of his own hips; his index finger slipped in easily.

Finn narrowed his eyes. Too easily. “Tremblay?”

Logan didn’t bother opening his eyes, already lost in the press of Leo’s thumbs to his palms.

Finn exhaled through his nose and added a second finger, much to Logan’s obvious delight. “O’Hara-Knut.”

“I always like a thorough warmup,” Logan answered. His hands clasped around Leo’s wrists as he shifted his hips over the edge of the countertop. “A very, very thorough warmup.”

A deep groan siphoned from his lips when Finn teased his hole with a third. “Honestly, you two, I was not gone that long.”

“Long enough,” they chorused. He raised a brow at Leo and got a wicked wink in response.

“You said it yourself.” Logan’s wrists disappeared under Leo’s hands as he pinned him. “Since when has just one ever stopped him?”

“Clearly.” Finn pulled his fingers out and ran a hand down Logan’s broad chest once more before lining himself up and pressing in on one long push that made Logan’s lower back arch and his fingers tense around Leo. Tan against pale, with the tiny mole just near his thumb that tasted like caramel—Finn ground his hips forward and ducked to kiss Logan’s sternum. “Ours.”

“Yours,” Logan hummed with great contentment, pulling Leo down by the arms for a messy kiss.

“How many did you get out of him, Mr. O’Hara-Tremblay?”

Leo mirrored his grin. “Two, Mr. Tremblay-Knut. And a half, before your perfect fucking mouth entered the picture.”

I love you more than words. The tiny red and green gems embedded in Leo’s wedding ring stood stark against the growing pink of Logan’s skin as he kept him steady for Finn to pull apart. Logan’s garnet and Leo’s sapphire glimmered on his own hand when he pressed Logan’s knees apart and began fucking him in earnest, nestled next to each other. Finn let his mouth fall open at the vice grip around his cock and angled upwards, wrenching a heavy noise from Logan as he did.

“Oh, he likes that,” Leo noted while Logan writhed into the sharp thrusts. “Keep going, cher.”

Logan’s cock was darkening with need, tight on his stomach and smudging a shiny trail over his lower belly each time he was jostled. Finn slipped a hand under his back and pulled him up and close; the muscles quivered on his palm, but Logan’s arch held, and he sank into the sound of skin on skin. “What do you think, Lo?” he asked, flicking sweat from his eyes. “Did you get Knutty warmed up for me, too?”

Logan grinned, hazy-eyed and gorgeous. “Always.”

Leo kissed his smile into Logan’s cheek. “Pretty mouth, gotta use it.”

“You two are fucking dangerous,” Finn huffed.

Logan wrapped his legs around Finn’s waist and snapped his hips down, meeting Finn thrust-for-thrust while pleased noises spilled from his lips. The heat in his stomach built and his thoughts grew foggy. He couldn’t think about how stunning they looked together without remembering they were his forever, and he couldn’t think about how they were his forever without tearing up, so he pulled one of Logan’s legs over his shoulder to an approving moan and poured every sweet thing that came to mind into the long curve of his thigh.

“Saying—he’s saying—” Logan’s words were lost in his gasping, syllables running together in a mix of French and English that even Leo seemed to struggle with, since he bent and kissed them out of Logan’s mouth. Finn circled his hips with a tug of Logan’s cock and he thrashed, tossing his head; his sweaty curls spilled over his eyes in an utter mess. “Fuck!”

“That one, I understand,” Finn half-laughed, angling to get that spot every time. Logan melted, lips parted, staring up at Leo with slow blinks and a heaving chest. “Come on, Lo, baby, almost there.”

“Feel so good,” Logan mumbled. “Knutty, so good.”

Leo combed a hand through his hair and pulled gently. “Je sais. Hold, mon coeur.”

Logan obediently clutched the far edge of the kitchen island when Leo released his hands, muscles flexing with the effort. Leo kissed his forehead once before hustling around—

--and into Finn’s side. Finn stuttered in his movements. A grin spread over his face and he felt his neck heat at having Leo so close, his hands already mapping Finn’s body eagerly. “Hey, you,” he said. He made an involuntary noise when Leo kissed the corner of his mouth and pulled Finn’s arm around him. “Is it my turn for some Southern comfort?”

Leo smiled. “Shut it, O’Hara.”

“That’s Mr. Tremblay-Knut to you.”

His cornflower eyes went soft. “It is, isn’t it?” Leo’s thumb swiped over his jaw and he turned to kiss it in a fleeting touch. “Sweetheart.”

“That’s me.”

Leo inclined his head. “Finish your husband off.”

Finn didn’t take his eyes off Leo as he resumed his steady strokes and kept himself buried in Logan. Any movement might knock him from Leo’s strong hold, and that was unthinkable. Logan sucked in a breath; his legs clenched around Finn’s waist, and his cock flexed in Finn’s hand. “Is he coming?” Finn asked, watching the faint shadows of Leo’s lashes.

Leo’s gaze flickered away, then back. His pupils dilated. “Sure is. Looks a mess, too.”

“Sounds like we make a pretty good team.” Finn savored his kiss like August rain. Leo hummed when Logan’s legs went lax against them, and Finn felt them both reach out to smooth over the exhausted muscle at the same time. “How you doing down there, babe?”

Logan made an unintelligible noise and kicked him lightly.

“Glad to hear it. Love you, too.”

Leo laughed and drew him in again, again, again, not just keeping Finn in his orbit but encompassing him entirely. He made a small noise when Logan sat up and his cock slipped free; within seconds, they each had a hand on him. He swayed into Leo’s kisses and Logan’s palm cradling the back of his neck, hips twitching as pleasure rose and rose to a tipping point, cutting his strings. He fell into them—he let them catch him. He fell for them all over again, and with sudden clarity, Finn knew what it would feel like every day for the rest of their lives.

#finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #o'knutzy #cubs #sweater weather #vaincre #coast to coast #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #smut #honeymoon

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hi7028 · 18 days ago

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Christmas wishlist/ or just a wishlist

Clothes:

Denim low waist jeans

Navy blue of the shoulder sweater

Denim skirt

Ralph Lauren sweater

Brandy sweatpants

White fox hoodie

Stussy hoodie

Brown Leather jacket

America flag sweater

Lululemon Align Jacket

Lululemon Leggins

The number t-shirt

Baby tees

White linen pants

Skims sweat seat

Cute summer tops

Nike brown sweater

Essentials hoodie

The north face jacket

Jott jacket

Blue banana sweater

Camo sweater

Cold culture sweater

Victoria’s Secret pjs

Djerf Avenue robe

Puffer jacket

Shoes:

Adidas handball special light blue dark blue

Uggs ultra mini

Uggs Tasman

Uggs razz

Uggs Tasman maxi curly

Uggs disquette

New balance

White and black converse

Adidas campus white and black

Adidas gazelle black

Birkenstocks

Accessories:

Beige Stanley

Tiffany necklace

Lululemon pouch

Kendra Scott bracelets

Flower claw clip

Bows

Eight bowl keychain

Slip scrunchies

AirPods Max

Nike socks

The tote bag Marc Jacob’s

Diesel belt

Longchamp bag navy blue

Gollard bag

Cartier watch

Apple Pencil

Charm necklace

Louis Vuitton wallet

Bow earrings

iPhone case

Vivienne Westwood necklace

Bottega earrings

Dior bag

Dior glasses

Fuzzy socks

Awala water bottle

Simple modern tumbler

Rhode beauty phone case

Electronics:

New IPhone

I Mac

Apple Watch

Macbook

iPad

Kindle

Home caring:

Dyptique candle

Blanket

Knot blanket

Flower pillows

Clip board

Plants

Cozy pillows

Bath thing

Candle lamp

New home candle

Mirror

Slippers

New vanity

Vanity mirror

Love shack fancy bedding

Bath mat

Neon sign

Projector

Posters (of your favourite signer)

Cute mugs

Smeg toaster, blender.. .

Dyson floor cleaning

Cute plates

Cute rugs

Ice maker

Mini fridge

Bubble candle

Recommend:

( urban outfitters)

IKEA ….

Amazon

Haircare:

Everything from OUAI

Gisou hair oil

Amika products

Olaplex products

Gisou hair perfume

Sol de Janeiro shampoo

Dry shampoo

Monday shampoo

Hair gel

Dae products

Hair mask

Scalp massages

Tangle teezer

Wet brush

Tree hut shampoo

Heartless curls

Hair rods

Silk pillowcase

Leave in conditioner

Wow hairspray

Dyson air wrap

Spray bottle

Shower cap

Blow dryer

Curling iron

Philosophy shampoo

Hair mousse

Curl cream

Hair gel

Pins

Hair ties

Hair straightener

Living proof products

Emi Jay hairbrush

Scalp care

Maui shampoo

Dae hair cream

Get ready with me pins

Microfiber towel

Hair serum

Hairspray

Bamboo brush

Gratitude journal

K18 shampoo

Body products:

Eos lotion

Tree hut sugar scrubs

Body Gua sha

Brazilian bum bum cream

Sol de janeiro perfume

Victoria’s Secret perfume

Rare Beauty hand cream

Vaseline

Supergoop sun cream

Summer fridays sun cream

Dry wash

Body lotion

Soap bar

Body wash

Dry brush

Body oil

Frenshe body spray

Truly shave butter

Shaver

Sundae whip foam

Touch land hand sanitizer

Loccitaine shea bitter hand cream

Loccitaine shower oil

Deodorant

Skincare

The ordinary serum

Tower 28 facial spray

Tatcha moisturizer

Avatara face mask

Glow recipe toner

Youth to the people cleanser

Caudalie face mist

Drunk elephant hydration serum

Bronze drops

Glow recipe Watermelon dew drops

Ilia face milk

Tropicals dark sports discoloration

Milk cooling water

Mighty patches

Razor sets

Gua sha

Makeup brushes

Cleansing pad

Charlotte Tillbury magic serum

Tatcha cleanser

Tropicals eye masks

Dr. Jart+ face masks

Mario badescu face spray

Micellar water

Face wash

Rare Beauty mist

Drunk elephant moisturizer

Tower 28 gel cleanser

One size setting spray

Charlotte tillbury setting spray

Rhode skincare

Makeup:

Ilia foundation

All the summer Fridays lip balms

Benefit cosmetics cookie highliter

Rare beauty blush

Tower 28 gloss

Yves saint Laurent lip oil stick

Patrick ta blushes

Huda beauty setting powder

Laneige balm

Rare beauty highliter

Refy gloss

Saie blush

Charlotte tillbury pillow talk lipstick& liner set

Glossier lip balms

Milk makeup jelly tints

Refy primer

Milk primer

NARS concealer

Gisou lip oils

Hoola bronzer

Shesheido eyelash curler

Rare beauty lip oil

Benefit cosmetics brow gel

Makeup by Mario brush sticks

Dior lip glow oils

Haus labs lip oils

Pillow talk blushes

Benetint

Laneige lip sleeping mask

The ordinary lash and brow serum

Ilia mascara

Anastasia mascara

Cotton Pads

Tarte plump gloss

Dior blush

Kosas concealer

Refy brush

Patrick ta brush

Sol de Janeiro Brazilian kiss

Saie brush

Rhode pocket blush

Rhode lip tint

Toys:

Squishmellows

Jelly cats

Sonny angels

Gift cards:

Target

Starbucks

Sephora

American Eagle

Aritzia

Aerie

Lululemon

Hollister

Bath an body works

Apple

Handmade:

Cards ( bows, flowers, creative)

Personalized mugs

Books:

One of us is lying

The summer I turned pretty

The princess diaries

The summer of broken rules

Snacks:

Sour patch

Oreos

Goldfish

Starburts

Nerds

Haribo

Homemade cookies

Snickers

Kit Kat

Cotton candy

Matcha lovers:

Matcha powder

Cute mug

Matcha kit

#gifts for her #sol de janeiro #glossier #skincare products #clean girl #brandy clothes #aesthetic #new sephora items #aesthetics #gisou

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thecoffeetongue · 2 years ago

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New Post has been published on

New Post has been published on https://coffeetongue.com/beyond-the-bean-unconventional-uses-for-coffee-in-recipes-and-diy-beauty-products/

Beyond the Bean: Unconventional Uses for Coffee in Recipes and DIY Beauty Products

Coffee is undoubtedly one of the most beloved beverages worldwide, cherished for its rich aroma and invigorating taste. Whether it’s a morning ritual or an afternoon pick-me-up, coffee has earned its place in the hearts of millions. But did you know that coffee’s potential extends far beyond being a delightful drink? In this article, we delve into the intriguing world of unconventional uses for coffee in recipes and DIY beauty products. Prepare to be amazed as we explore the versatility of coffee beyond traditional brewing.

While coffee’s primary role may be as a delightful beverage, its unique flavors and properties make it an intriguing ingredient in various culinary creations. From luscious desserts to savory delights, coffee can lend its distinct character to a wide range of dishes. Imagine savoring the exquisite notes of coffee in decadent cakes, enhancing the flavors of meats with a coffee-infused rub, or even incorporating it into tantalizing sauces and marinades. The possibilities are truly limitless when it comes to incorporating coffee into your culinary adventures.

But coffee’s influence doesn’t stop at the kitchen door. The remarkable properties of coffee also make it an exciting ingredient in DIY beauty products. Coffee grounds, with their gentle exfoliating texture, can be transformed into invigorating body scrubs that leave your skin feeling smooth and rejuvenated. Meanwhile, the energizing properties of coffee can be harnessed for hair treatments, offering shine, vitality, and even potential benefits for scalp health. Additionally, coffee can work wonders for the delicate skin around the eyes, helping to reduce puffiness and dark circles.

In this article, we will explore various unconventional uses for coffee, unlocking the secrets of coffee-infused recipes and DIY beauty products. From tantalizing your taste buds to pampering your skin and hair, we invite you to embark on a journey beyond the bean, where coffee’s potential knows no bounds. Get ready to discover the fascinating world of coffee’s versatility and unlock a whole new realm of possibilities.

Coffee in Recipes

Ah, the delightful world of coffee-infused culinary creations! Coffee’s distinct flavor and aroma can bring a whole new dimension to your favorite sweet treats and savory delights. Let’s dive into the realm of coffee in recipes and explore the wonderful possibilities it offers.

A. Sweet Treats

Picture yourself indulging in a slice of coffee-flavored cake, where each bite delivers a burst of rich coffee goodness. Coffee-infused desserts like cakes, cookies, and even ice creams can elevate your sweet tooth experience to new heights. The infusion of coffee into these treats adds depth and complexity, creating a symphony of flavors that will leave you craving for more.

When the weather calls for something cool and refreshing, why not try coffee-based beverages? Sip on an invigorating iced coffee smoothie or savor the velvety goodness of a coffee milkshake. These beverages combine the familiar comfort of coffee with the delightful chill of a refreshing drink, making them a perfect treat for those warm summer days.

B. Savory Delights

Coffee rubs for meat are a revelation for any culinary enthusiast. Imagine sinking your teeth into a perfectly cooked steak with a delectable coffee crust. The combination of coffee’s smoky and earthy notes with the savory richness of meat creates a flavor profile that is nothing short of extraordinary. Coffee-rubbed pork is another mouthwatering option that will leave your taste buds dancing with delight.

Coffee’s versatility extends beyond rubs and into marinades and sauces. Prepare to tantalize your taste buds with coffee-infused wonders like coffee BBQ sauce and coffee-glazed delights. The addition of coffee in these savory creations adds depth and complexity to the flavors, transforming your dishes into culinary masterpieces that will impress even the most discerning palates.

Incorporating coffee into recipes opens up a whole new world of culinary possibilities. Whether you’re seeking to indulge your sweet tooth or explore bold flavors in savory dishes, coffee can be your secret ingredient for culinary success. So, go ahead and embark on a culinary adventure, experiment with coffee-infused desserts, or create your own coffee-based beverages. The only limit is your imagination.

Stay tuned as we continue our exploration of coffee’s versatility beyond the kitchen and delve into the exciting world of DIY beauty products. There’s so much more to discover in our journey beyond the bean! For recipes with coffee checkout my coffee recipe e-book on the home page.

Coffee in DIY Beauty Products

Now, let’s venture into the realm of DIY beauty products and discover how coffee can work wonders for our skin, hair, and even the delicate area around our eyes. Prepare to be amazed by the transformative properties of coffee in the world of beauty.

A. Coffee Scrubs and Exfoliants

Nothing beats the invigorating sensation of a homemade coffee body scrub. I’ll share some easy-to-follow recipes that will leave your skin feeling smooth, refreshed, and rejuvenated. Coffee grounds, when used as an exfoliant, gently remove dead skin cells, revealing a radiant and glowing complexion. Get ready to pamper yourself with these simple and effective coffee scrub recipes.

Apart from the delightful texture and aroma, coffee offers several benefits as an exfoliant for the skin. Let’s explore how coffee exfoliation can improve circulation, promote a more even skin tone, and even help reduce the appearance of cellulite. Discover the science behind coffee’s exfoliating properties and unlock the secrets to achieving smoother, healthier-looking skin.

B. Coffee Hair Treatments

If you’re looking to revitalize your hair and infuse it with shine and vitality, coffee-infused hair masks are your go-to solution. I’ll guide you through the process of creating nourishing hair masks using coffee as the star ingredient. Uncover the secrets to luscious locks as we delve into the benefits of coffee for hair health.

Are you struggling with hair growth issues or scalp problems? Coffee rinses might just be the solution you’ve been searching for. Discover how coffee rinses can stimulate hair follicles, promote healthy hair growth, and even alleviate scalp conditions. Say goodbye to dull hair and hello to a rejuvenated scalp with these simple coffee rinse recipes.

C. Coffee Face Masks and Eye Treatments

Brighten and rejuvenate your skin with DIY coffee face masks. I’ll share some easy-to-make recipes that harness the power of coffee to promote a healthy and radiant complexion. Explore the benefits of coffee as a natural antioxidant and discover how it can improve the appearance of your skin, leaving you with a youthful glow.

The delicate area around our eyes deserves special attention, and coffee can be a game-changer. Learn how to create your own coffee-infused eye creams or serums that target puffiness and dark circles. Discover the soothing and tightening effects of coffee on the delicate skin around the eyes, helping you achieve a refreshed and revitalized look.

Embrace the natural wonders of coffee in DIY beauty products and unlock a world of self-care and rejuvenation. Get ready to indulge your senses and discover the transformative effects of coffee on your skin, hair, and overall beauty. It’s time to harness the power of coffee and pamper yourself in the most delightful way possible. Stay tuned as we continue our exploration of coffee’s versatility and its remarkable benefits beyond the bean!

Benefits and Tips

A. When it comes to using coffee in recipes and beauty products, the benefits are truly remarkable. Let’s take a moment to highlight some of the key advantages of incorporating coffee into your culinary and beauty endeavors.

In Recipes:

Enhanced flavor: Coffee adds depth, complexity, and a delightful aroma to various dishes, making them more tantalizing and unforgettable.

Versatility: Coffee’s flavor profile complements both sweet and savory recipes, allowing you to explore a wide range of culinary creations.

Unique twists: Adding coffee to traditional recipes can provide a unique twist, surprising your taste buds and impressing your guests with its distinct character.

In DIY Beauty Products:

Exfoliation and rejuvenation: Coffee grounds make excellent exfoliants, gently buffing away dead skin cells and leaving your skin feeling smoother and revitalized.

Hair health: Coffee can promote hair growth, add shine, and even help address scalp issues, offering a natural and affordable solution for healthier hair.

Skin benefits: Coffee’s antioxidant properties can help combat free radicals, brighten the skin, and reduce puffiness and dark circles around the eyes.

B. To make the most of your coffee-infused adventures, consider these tips and considerations:

In Recipes:

Quality coffee: Choose high-quality coffee beans or grounds to ensure the best flavor and aroma in your recipes.

Experiment with ratios: Play around with different coffee-to-ingredient ratios to achieve the desired level of coffee flavor without overpowering other ingredients.

Balance flavors: Coffee can be intense, so consider balancing its bitterness with other ingredients like sweeteners or complementary flavors.

In DIY Beauty Products:

Use fresh coffee grounds: Freshly ground coffee works best for exfoliation and maximum benefits in beauty products.

Gentle application: Apply coffee-based beauty products with a gentle touch, especially when exfoliating or applying around sensitive areas.

Patch test: Before using coffee-infused beauty products on your skin, perform a patch test to check for any potential allergies or sensitivities.

C. While coffee is generally safe for most people, it’s essential to be aware of potential allergenic or sensitivity concerns and how to address them:

Allergies: Some individuals may be allergic to coffee or have cross-reactivity with other substances. If you experience any allergic reactions like itching, redness, or swelling, discontinue use and consult a healthcare professional.

Sensitivity: Coffee’s caffeine content may cause sensitivity in some individuals. If you have caffeine sensitivity, consider using decaffeinated coffee or reducing the amount used in recipes or beauty products.

Patch testing: Before applying coffee-infused beauty products to your face or body, conduct a patch test by applying a small amount to a small area of your skin and monitoring for any adverse reactions.

By being mindful of these tips and considerations, you can fully enjoy the benefits of coffee in your recipes and beauty routines while ensuring a safe and pleasant experience. Embrace the versatility of coffee and let its unique qualities enhance your culinary creations and self-care rituals.

Remember, it’s always advisable to consult a healthcare professional or allergist if you have any specific concerns or questions regarding coffee consumption or its use in beauty products.

Conclusion

As we conclude our exploration of coffee’s versatility in recipes and beauty products, I hope you’re feeling inspired and excited to embark on your own coffee-infused adventures. We’ve uncovered the remarkable potential of coffee beyond traditional brewing, delving into its role as a flavor enhancer in sweet treats and savory delights. Additionally, we’ve discovered how coffee can work wonders in DIY beauty products, from exfoliating scrubs to nourishing hair treatments and rejuvenating face masks.

The journey beyond the bean has revealed the numerous benefits that coffee brings to the table. Its distinct flavor profile, combined with its natural properties, makes it an exceptional ingredient for both culinary creations and self-care routines. Coffee adds depth, complexity, and a touch of indulgence to recipes, tantalizing your taste buds and leaving a lasting impression. In the realm of beauty, coffee’s exfoliating, revitalizing, and soothing qualities bring forth radiant skin, luscious hair, and a refreshed appearance.

Now, it’s time for you to explore and experiment with coffee in creative ways. Let your imagination run wild as you develop coffee-infused recipes that will dazzle your family and friends. Whether it’s a coffee-flavored cake, a savory dish with a coffee rub, or a refreshing coffee-based beverage, the possibilities are endless. And don’t forget to pamper yourself with homemade coffee scrubs, invigorating hair treatments, and rejuvenating face masks. Unleash the power of coffee and embrace the transformative effects it can have on your culinary experiences and self-care rituals.

As you venture forth, remember to select high-quality coffee, balanced flavors, and be mindful of potential allergenic or sensitivity concerns. But most importantly, have fun with it! Experiment, adapt, and create your own unique coffee-inspired masterpieces.

So, my fellow coffee enthusiasts, let’s raise our cups to the remarkable versatility of coffee. May it continue to inspire and delight us in the kitchen and beyond. Cheers to embracing the magic of coffee and exploring its endless potential!

Happy brewing, cooking, and beautifying!

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chamerionwrites · 9 months ago

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Apropos of nothing except me making a grocery list whilst dreaming about favorite salads (and deliberately albeit sort of arbitrarily excluding many excellent vegetable dishes which I don’t really consider salads):

Cobb salad wherein you replace some or all of the lettuce with fresh basil

Yum kai dao (Thai fried egg salad; make sure you fry the egg fast in hot oil, so it’s very crispy but the yolk isn’t fully set)

Standard Arabic/shirazi/choban/shopska Mediterranean kinda thing with tomatoes/cucumbers/onions/herbs/citrus/olive oil, optionally also other stuff like peppers, radishes, olives, cheese, pomegranates, etc. Add some toasted pitas and you’ve got fattoush. Add a dollop of Greek yogurt and you’ve got a very homey, comforting version with a bit more body, that’s still refreshing enough for summer dinners when you cannot bear to turn on the oven or even the stove.

This super fresh herb & nut & cucumber & lemon number from Sami Tamimi’s Falastin (the version in the book also calls for toasted pumpkin seeds)

Very crunchy thinly sliced cabbage and carrots (you can use one of those bagged cole slaw mixes if you’re in a hurry) mixed up with a whole bunch of fresh cilantro, green onions, lime juice, chopped peanuts, and a drizzle of spicy peanut dressing (I recommend letting some or all of the cabbage chill in the lime juice all day/overnight, maybe with a dash of fish sauce if you’re into that)

Similarly, thinly sliced cabbage and carrots mixed with mango, lime, cilantro, and green onions (again I recommend throwing everything but the cilantro/scallions in a bowl to let the flavors meld). You can add mango to the previous salad too if you have it, but in that one I prefer the mangoes just slightly underripe whereas here without the peanut dressing I want them ripe and serving as the star of the show, you feel me?

Grapefruit & avocado & quick pickled red onions & watercress (this is also incredible with a bit of spicy grilled salmon if you’re eating meat that day)

Honeydew melon, prosciutto, dried figs, goat cheese, walnuts (or something else crunchy), good olive oil and a lemon-balsamic reduction over arugula

Warm goat cheese (are we sensing a decadent theme here), caramelized onions, dried figs, toasted pistachios or pecans, good olive oil and lemon balsamic reduction over arugula.

Put a slight spin on a standard panzanella by grilling the cherry tomatoes, adding chunks of grilled eggplant instead of/in addition to the cucumbers, subbing lemon juice for vinegar, and subbing out the basil for mint. Make sure you zest the lemon too before juicing it. Toss a dollop of yogurt on top if you want.

Winter panzanella loosely inspired by this recipe - personally I use clementine segments instead of oranges because it’s easier and often (unless you have really fresh oranges) better, goat cheese instead of ricotta salata, often add radishes or small fresh turnips (don’t recommend using the big woody ones you often find at the supermarket) for crunch, and while I recognize that it preserves the pretty colors better I cannot be arsed to do the whole bake-in-foil-and-scrub-off-the-skin thing when roasted beets are like fifteen times tastier.

Various other riffs on panzanella. If you find yourself roasting a whole chicken I especially HIGHLY recommend making up some schmaltzy homemade croutons and some schmaltzy black pepper brussels sprouts and tossing all that with some lemon and any other suitable vegetables you have on hand (most decadent version: pomegranates and thinly sliced red onions, with a lemon/pomegranate molasses vinaigrette)

Roasted maple-chile squash (I prefer delicata squash for ease of use/added skin texture/nice shape, tossed in olive oil/sambal oelek/maple syrup/black pepper then roasted), dried cranberries or cherries, toasted squash seeds, maybe some tart apples and/or pecans if you’re feeling fancy, toss it all with some kale and olive oil and balsamic vinegar (you can also do crispy roasted brussels sprouts instead of kale here if you like)

You know how fried chicken and pickles is a thing? Get ahold of some fried chicken, up to and including those premade chicken tenders you find in the freezer section (just please bake them long enough that they’re crispy). Get some pickled banana peppers. Get some sort(s) of sweetish and/or sharpish crunchy root vegetables sliced nice and thin (carrots, radishes, chioggia beets, etc). Whisk up a honey mustard vinaigrette with olive oil and a dash of the banana pickle juice. Put all of that on top of some kind of leafy greens (I like those mixed greens that typically come in bags or cartons for this one, or sometimes baby spinach). Profit.

A lifehack imo is that you simply do not have to eat lettuce in your salads. Spinach, kale, arugula/rocket (my beloved), nasturtiums, mâche, watercress, radicchio, and cabbage all exist. Using A Metric Fuckton Of Herbs is also both viable (and affordable if you have a garden or a sunny windowsill) and 10/10 delicious. Or you can just make a shirazi salad and call it a day. Sometimes the problem is not actually that you don’t like salad, it’s that lettuce is insanely boring unless it’s just-picked fresh or on the rare occasion when you want a caesar salad with some really crunchy romaine

#anyway. share ur salad dreams with me #culinary adventures #my posts

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bleedingvuitton · 3 years ago

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homemade body scrub with sugar, honey and olive oil

- add 3 spoons of sugar

- add one spoon of coffee grounds

- add a little of your favorite shower gel (obviously the best is a bio one, i personnally use my honey shower gel by born to bio because of the good composition and honey benefits)

- add a spoon of olive oil

#skincare #skincare routine #body scrub #summer #summer 2021 #recipe #easy recipe #homemade #homemade body scrub #bio #scrub

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ficsilike-reblogged · 3 years ago

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What’s in a Name? Pt. II

A/N: So I know I said that the first part was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done...but this takes the cake. The softest, cheesiest thing I’ve ever written and I will apologize for nothing.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader (no y/n)

Rating: PG for mention of guns??? A few smooches or two.

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: The five times Marcus Pike tries to propose and the one time he actually does.

(Beautiful art by my bb @bucketheadredacted)

Read part one!

Marcus Pike was finally a man lucky in love.

Maybe. Hopefully. God, he really needed to be lucky. Just this once.

He had bought the diamond ring three months after she had moved in—that was him moving slowly! Honestly! He had felt the urge to look at rings only a month after she had kissed him in the park but had refrained, his past failed relationships whispering at the back of his mind. He didn’t want to push her away. Didn’t want to scare her by moving too fast. Didn’t want to break his own heart again. It had been a strange uphill battle to just learn her name—and now he wanted to give her his name, too.

But he loved her. Truly.

And he knew that within a month of stealing kisses and slipping into overpriced hotel rooms between briefings and meetings and auctions across the country. And Marcus hadn’t been able to stop himself from asking her if she wanted to move into his Washington D.C. apartment six months later.

The words had tumbled out of his mouth while they were still half asleep, his alarm blaring in the background, alerting them both that she needed to get up to fly back to New Orleans.

And she…giggled and rolled over to press a kiss to his lips, uncaring of his morning breath. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

And it had been perfect. It had been good to come home and see her jacket slung over the back of the chair, to smell her perfume lingering in the bathroom as she dashed out the door, to wake up next to her when they both had a reprieve from their chaotic jobs and not have to worry that they would have to separate again within a handful of hours. It was good even when she tried a new recipe and the entire apartment smelled like burnt noodles for two days.

But he wanted to call her his wife and he wanted to be her husband. He wanted to have a family with her and maybe buy a house a little further outside the city—she had mentioned that she wanted a dog and a cat. “With room for them to run around!” She said with a smile.

And that all circled back to the ring. The platinum ring with the princess cut diamond. The ring he had been hiding for ages. The ring he wanted to put on her finger—if she said yes. Or he would have to tuck his metaphorical tail between his legs (again) and nurse a broken heart (again) and listen to his coworkers well-meaning condolences (again).

“When are you gonna ask her, man?” One of his fellow agents asked as they parked the agency-assigned SUV in the underground lot. Marcus had made the mistake of mentioning how he had a ring waiting at the back of his sock drawer and this agent—and honestly? Marcus couldn’t even remember his name—latched onto that and had spent the last three hours trying to ‘help’ Marcus come up with a plan on how to propose.

Marcus had a plan already. Thank you very much.

“I am going to take her to see the fireworks over the river.”

“Romantic. Good choice.”

Marcus felt himself puff up a bit at that. It was romantic, wasn’t it? This would be fine.

It was not fine.

The spot Marcus had picked was already crowded by the time they arrived—he was still grumbling about the flat tire he had to fix on the way there but his mood shift when he heard her sigh. It was a happy sound that had a smile pushing at his own lips.

“This is a good spot. Good choice.” She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his warm cheek before turning and grabbing the cooler from the back of his car.

Marcus quickly patted his pocket and felt the ring safely in its confines. This could work, right? He just needed to wait for the fireworks. He set a checkered blanket on the warm grass and helped her unload their cooler, filled with her favorite picnic foods and maybe a bit of alcohol too, hidden away in two tumblers. The wind off the river was nice, keeping them from getting too overheated and someone further down the bank had set up a radio, letting music provide a backdrop to the quiet lapping water and the conversations from the strangers around them. He was not the best conversationalist, Marcus had to admit, he was busy rehearsing what he was going to say in his head over and over, trying to imagine if she would cry or smile—or just…say yes. But he made her laugh and earned a few more kisses when he managed to contribute to the conversation and fed her a few of the grapes from the cooler.

It was good…it was fine…until it wasn’t.

It started with her swatting at something on her arm just as the sun had disappeared beneath the horizon. That wasn’t uncommon; the East Coast was notoriously buggy during the summer. It was probably a mosquito.

But then it happened again and again and again until she was standing up with a shriek, wildly hitting at herself. “Marcus! Marcus!”

“Honey?”

“There’s ants everywhere!”

He glanced down and…yes, there were ants everywhere. And then he felt his first bite.

They quickly gained more than their fair share of attention as they both scrambled to get the hundreds of ants off of them, knocking over their food and cooler with unpleasant groans and gasps as they gained more ant bites.

In a rushed haze, still swatting at themselves, they gathered up their belongings and all but dumped them in the back of the car. When their tires hit highway, they heard the first boom of the fireworks.

“How’re you feeling?” She whispered as she rubbed a bit more cream onto Marcus’s back. It had been almost a week since the ant incident and his body was still covered in small red bumps. A testament to his failure.

He reached back, a little awkwardly from his angle on his stomach, and grasped her hand. “I’m okay, honey.” He hummed when he felt her pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Marcus turned his head just a bit and looked at her hand. Her ring finger was still bare. The ring had been tucked away in his bedside drawer after they both scrubbed themselves clean and then all but bathed in calamine lotion. But Marcus was a man on a mission. Having brunch, just to the two of them, all calm and relaxed, was just as good as fireworks.

When she’d been showering earlier, he had called in a delivery from her favorite breakfast restaurant, the florist down the block, and snuck around the apartment to try to tidy up a bit. Not that the apartment needed much. He had set a new set of candles in two overly-priced candle holders and lit them…and then quickly snuffed them out, deeming it too early for candles. He had slipped back into bed just as she emerged in a puff of lavender steam from the bathroom, looking much more comfortable than she had in days.

He rolled over and sat up to steal a kiss against her smiling mouth before coaxing her down onto the bed to apply her share of the strangely scented lotion to her matching set of bumps and bites.

“You know,” she started, face squished in the pillow, “for what it’s worth, I did have a really good time.”

“Yeah?”

“You know I always like spending time with you.”

“Even if you get eaten alive by fire ants?” He asked, a smile pushing at his mouth as his fingers trailed down her back.

She laughed. “Even then.”

He leaned down to press a kiss behind her ear before finishing her layer of lotion and his smile only grew when he heard the familiar, satisfied hum rumble in her throat. A knock at the door had him rising. “I’ll be right back.” Marcus pulled on a shirt as he moved toward the door and opened it, happily seeing two delivery men. He paid them both quickly and moved to the kitchen to set everything up as he heard one of his least favorite sounds.

Her cellphone ringing.

Marcus placed the flowers in her favorite vase but didn’t even move to plate the food he’d had delivered. What was the point?

She came out of the bedroom, rubbing at her temples and her phone in her pocket. “I-”

“You have to go,” he said, finishing for her. “Where to this time?”

She grimaced. “Nowhere fun. But apparently a Pollock has surfaced at an auction set for tomorrow night.” Her eyes darted to the flowers and her grimace softened. “Are these for me?”

Marcus smiled and handed them to her, chuckling as she all but shoved her face into the blooms to inhale their scent. He tightened the knot on the top of the takeout and handed that to her, too. “Here, you can eat this on the road.” And when she opened her mouth to apologize, he kissed the words away. Marcus would never fault her for her job and its uneven schedule, just as she never held his strange hours against him. “Home by Wednesday?” He murmured against her lips.

“Home by Wednesday. I promise.”

When he closed the door to her taxi and waved as he watched the yellow car disappear around the corner, Marcus sighed. Strike two.

Patrick Jane was not who Marcus wanted to see right now. And neither was Lisbon. But that was beside the point. The point was that Marcus hadn’t seen his Honey in almost three weeks because of a demanding client wanting more and more art work so she was flown all over Europe to different auctions and private sales.

He had remembered how he heard her sniffle over the phone when she told him that this client was asking her to pick up more art. “It is good money, really good. I can probably take a few months off after I do this but I…” she hiccupped and his heart broke. “But I just really miss you.”

And that was why he had booked a table at this beautiful and romantic restaurant after she had managed to sleep off her jet lag and rinse the grime of the plane from her skin.

Marcus ordered expensive wine that she knew she only ordered when she closed a big deal and asked the chef to place the ring on the top of the tiramisu he had scheduled to be brought out in exactly 47 minutes.

But that plan had been fantastically derailed when that obnoxious blond man spotted him from across the restaurant and then had the gall to ask the hostess to seat them near each other. (What were they even doing in DC?) For her part, Lisbon looked uncomfortable, too, as they made small talk.

With each passing word and each forced anecdote, Marcus felt himself deflate. There was no way he was going to propose to the love of his life in front of his ex-fiancée and her husband.

“You know,” Jane started and Marcus felt his teeth grind, “Marcus always struck me as a family man.”

She smiled and reached out to wrap her fingers around Marcus’ and squeezed. “He is.”

“Oh?” Jane continued, leaning forward in his seat. “Is a congratulations in order?”

Marcus could hear his teeth grinding but her grip tightened on his hand while her smile remained steady. “That is none of your business. I am sure you can fill your time poking and prodding into other people’s lives. Now, please, you have interrupted my long overdue date with the love of my life with your prattle. I’m sure you’re lovely, but I am done entertaining you.” She raised her other hand and asked for the check which was quickly given. The hostess, for her part, did glance to Marcus to make sure it was okay before he subtly nodded. The ring was slipped back into his hand by a sly waiter.

“Marcus,” Lisbon murmured, “we didn’t mean-”

Marcus stood and buttoned his jacket before helping his Honey into her coat. “Have a good night, Lisbon.”

And they left the restaurant, flagging down a taxi as thunder rolled overhead. Marcus made sure to open the taxi’s door for her and let her slide in before joining her in the backseat. The pair was quiet for a moment, and then two before she started to giggle. The giggle grew into a full-belly laugh that had tears gathering in her eyes and Marcus had to laugh, too. She always made him laugh.

“God!” She said. “He’s so full of himself. And truly, Marcus, I’m sure Teresa is lovely but she has terrible taste in men. Choosing that over you? I would never.”

Marcus felt a selfish bloom of pride swell in his chest. “Yeah?”

She leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. “Yeah. I don’t plan on ever letting you go.”

And you know? That made Marcus smile just as much as putting a shiny ring on her finger. She wanted him forever.

He could propose tomorrow.

He did not propose tomorrow.

Or any day after that for the next three months. There just…wasn’t the right time. The ring he now kept in his suit jacket pocket seemed heavier by the day. Even his fellow agents seemed to pick up on the fact that something was bothering him.

“Fighting with your lady, Pike?” One of them asked as they were huddled around a table in the art storage room, trying to devise a plan to catch a thief who had managed to disappear with fourteen million dollars’ worth of some blueblood’s family heirlooms which included an Artemisia Gentileschi original. It was a brazen heist and obviously a huge case that needed to be their sole focus.

But sometimes his group of agents were a little nosey.

“We don’t really fight,” Marcus muttered as he looked over the blueprints of the family’s home, trying to find a way that the thief had come in and out. The official police report said a downstairs window was open but he didn’t believe that. “We have our disagreements but she is the most levelheaded person I know. The most heated conversation we had was over which diner had the best waffles.”

Another agent gagged. “You two are disgusting.”

“The word you’re looking for is ‘perfect,’ actually.”

Marcus shook his head and bit back a laugh—they really needed to focus on this case. “We’re not perfect.” And they weren’t. No one was. But that didn’t mean he loved her any less.

“Still haven’t proposed, eh?”

“Shut up, man.” There was no heat to his tone as Marcus scrubbed a hand down his face before looking at his watch. It was almost eleven at night. “Go home. It’s late. We can pick this up in the morning.”

The rest of the group grumbled their thanks and disappeared to the upper levels of the building, probably in search of their forgotten dinners before going home. Marcus tapped his pencil on the blueprints, his eyes constantly moving to the door leading into the ‘piano room’ which then led down to the wine cellar. He wasn’t sure why, but something in his gut just told him the answer led to that set of rooms.

“Marcus?”

He jumped at the sudden noise but quickly righted himself as he saw her entering the fenced off storage area, carefully skirting around a prized Greco-Roman statue they had just recovered in Philadelphia. It was no longer a surprise to see her down here, the front desk guards knew her by face and name and all but gave her security clearance, easily letting her through when they knew Marcus was working late. He stood and walked over to her, pressing a kiss to her lips and then forehead in greeting, listening to her hum in contentment as her hands wound around his waist. “What are you doing here, Honey?”

She smiled as she looked at him and shrugged. “I knew you were working late. Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d keep you company instead of tossing and turning.”

“You know I’m always happy to see you.” He led her over to the table and told her a little about the case, as much as he could without truly getting in trouble, and let her look over his notes.

She frowned as she turned the blueprints around and looked at them. “These people are like…billionaires, right?”

Marcus confirmed it with a frown but let her continue.

“Right. So, last time I was in LA, I was at that big, private auction at one of the gaudiest homes I’ve ever visited. Remember me telling you about that? The host got so drunk that he demanded he show everyone his three panic rooms and the private tunnel he had requested be dug behind his laundry room in the basement. Apparently he bribed the city inspector to keep it off the official blueprints so that a thief couldn’t use that tunnel.” She held up the blueprints and tapped at the wine cellar. “Ten bucks says there’s more to this wine cellar than just some ridiculous vintages.”

Marcus could feel his face lighting up. She was amazing.

They spoke a little longer, about possible suspects and how there was probably more than one thief—or at least a getaway driver—before their conversations shifted.

“The guys upstairs said something funny.”

“Hm?”

“They called me Mrs. Pike.”

His next breath nearly choked him. He was going to kill the guards upstairs. “O-oh? Really?”

“I think it sounds nice,” she said, her tone a little embarrassed. “Not that I haven’t thought about it before.” She smiled a bit, almost nervous. “We’ve talked about it, me and you, but to hear someone else say it…makes it sound…really nice.” She hid her embarrassment behind her hand and shook her head.

“I think it sounds nice, too.” He could do it. Right now. He could do it. They were surrounded by beautiful art. All by themselves. There was a light in her eyes that made his heart squeeze. His hand patted the pocket where he kept the ring and-

-it was gone.

“Marcus?” Her tone was filled with worry and she reached out to trail a finger over the crease that had erupted between his eyebrows, a gesture she did often when he brought work home with him. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah. I’m fine, honey.”

He most certainly was not but it wasn’t like he could tell her that or propose. ‘Yes, honey. I lost your engagement ring. Will you marry me?’ Fuck.

The next day Marcus was stopped by the man at the front desk as he headed toward his office. “Everyone’s been telling me about your big plans. Can’t do it without this.” He handed over a small bag and inside…was the ring.

“Where’d you find it?” Marcus asked, stashing the ring in his briefcase this time.

Apparently his pocket couldn’t be trusted.

“Parking lot.”

Marcus could only sigh.

This was it. This had to be it.

If it wasn’t? He was sure the universe was telling him to just give up. They were happy, right? In love? Maybe they didn’t have to be married. Maybe…

No. No, he wanted to be her husband and he wanted her to be his wife. And that was why the ring was (safely and securely) stowed away in his wallet. He just needed the right time.

She was sitting across from him at their favorite diner, a stack of pancakes and a plateful of waffles between them and half-finished milkshakes abandoned near the saltshakers as they tried to guess which type of syrup was in each little carafe from a single bite. It was a game they played a few times before—one they had played on their first official date, actually. It had lasted well past the dinner and museum visit he had planned and into the morning where they had landed at the diner as the sun rose.

“This has to be strawberry,” she said as she finished her bite. “What do you think?” She asked, holding out the fork for him to take.

He took his bite and nodded. “Strawberry, definitely.”

She lifted the carafe and smiled as she read the tape on the bottom. “Point for us!” They high-fived across the table, laughing. The waitress who always served them shook her head with a smile from her place at the counter, knowing their game too well.

Marcus poured the syrup on their next bite and guessed its flavor before letting her take a guess.

“Um…blueberry?” She licked her lips, contemplating. “Maybe?” As Marcus lifted the carafe and confirmed that it was indeed blueberry, she continued. “Oh, a display of Alphonse Mucha is coming to Georgetown.”

Marcus smiled. Over an hour of their first date had been filled with soft whispers and shy smiles in front of a wall of Mucha sketches. They had been asked to leave by a polite but tired museum guard, not realizing they were there past closing. It was one of his fondest memories. One of the first times he realized she was truly special. He fell a little (more) in love with her that night. “We should go.”

“I’ll get tickets!”

This was the time. This was the moment. He pulled his wallet out under the table and curled his finger around the ring and watched as she smiled, wiping a bit of syrup from her chin. “I love you.”

She paused and looked at him, smile continuing to grow. “And you know I love you, too.”

“And I’ve loved you for a long time. You make my life better, make me better. I know our jobs are crazy. But they’re beautiful. Filled with art and excitement. But you’ve really…made my life a masterpiece.”

“Marcus?” Her voice was soft, eyes narrowing just slightly.

But Marcus pressed forward. “And I know that’s cheesy but I-”

And his phone was ringing. Why of all times was his phone ringing? And worst of all, it was the ringtone he had set for his boss. He had to answer. And she knew it, nodding just once with a fading smile.

He stood from his seat and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he murmured before slipping away with his phone pressed to his ear.

Marcus was tired. Tired.

He had been to New York to Miami to Orlando to Atlanta and then finally to Rio. The band of thieves, making a run for it with millions of dollars of art—including a da Vinci sketch. But he and his team caught them before they disappeared into the wind and the art was lost to the black market.

But he was tired.

He yawned as he drove through the mostly-quiet streets, ready to slip back into his apartment and pull his honey into his arms and then…sleep for three days.

That sounded wonderful.

But then his phone rang again.

And he had to answer it.

Thankfully, it was a short call. Someone had just broken in to one of the smaller museums in Georgetown and they wanted Pike to catch the thief in the act. Marcus sighed as he tossed his phone in the passenger seat. If this went well, it meant less paperwork. And then he could sleep.

The museum was dark when he arrived. There was only a faint bit of life coming from around of one the corners and he slunk around in the shadows, a hand on his gun. He was ready. He could stop a theft before it happened. He could-

Marcus stopped dead in his tracks as he realized what he was looking at.

Standing in the center of the hall, surrounded by (electronic) candles and priceless Mucha originals, was his Honey. His Venus.

“Hi Marcus.”

He took one step forward and then two and then three-

And she dropped to one knee and gently grasped his hands in hers, tears filling her beautiful eyes. “You make me smile every day. Even when I feel the need to hide all your socks after you make me mad. You have given me a new way of seeing art, appreciating it. You, Marcus Pike, have helped me grow, helped me breathe when I thought the world was just too much, helped me learn what strawberry syrup tastes like.”

Marcus had to laugh at that, feeling tears start to gather in his eyes. “And pecan, too.”

“And pecan syrup, too.” She squeezed his hands again with a growing smile. “I’ve never known love like this. And I never want to be without it. I never want to be without you. I just…” she hiccupped, a few tears falling down her cheeks. “I just love you. Will you marry me? Can I be Mrs. Pike?”

Marcus pulled his hands from hers and quickly pulled his wallet from his back pocket, pulling the ring (finally), from its depths. “Can I ask you, too?”

She all but tackled him to the sparkling marble floors and pressed kiss after kiss to his cheeks, chin, brow, and lips, a laugh on her tear-stained lips. “Ask me.”

“Will you marry me?” The words finally came out in a rush, his heart beating wildly behind his ribs as he watched her smile. Her beautiful smile.

“Yes.”

A/N: Please let me know what you think!

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike #the mentalist

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tiarnanabhfainni · 3 years ago

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i wrote another fic about generational trauma and the winchesters, this time featuring deadbeat mom extraordinaire mary née campbell, displacement, emigration, the american wake and just really missing your mom.

gonna quickly tag a few mutuals who might be interested but also you can find the fic under the cut

@uhuraha @myaimistrue @nonsensegnomes

American Wake

On a mild summer’s day in 1950, a wedding took place in Normal, Illinois. Dressed in a simple white dress that she had inherited from her mother, Millie Walsh looked up at the man who was to be her husband in daze of transcendent happiness. She had good reason to be besotted. His name was Henry Winchester and he was a dashing young academic of the supernatural with a fascinating air of mystery that surrounded him. They had met the previous year when he had come to her home in New York on a fact-finding mission. Millie fell in love after only two minutes of conversation.

With such a buoyant adoration to carry her through, Millie was perfectly happy to relocate to a state far from her family and friends to build a new life with charming debonair Henry. She knew about the supernatural elements of his life. How could she not? But it was a trade she was perfectly willing to make for the opportunity to create a family with him.

And she paid dearly for that decision. Millie lost a husband and was left to raise her four year old son alone.

It was all entirely avoidable of course. The Winchester name was not her inheritance by birth. No Cupid had ever marked her name for Henry. It was by no means a match made in heaven. If not for love, Millie could have lived a life completely divorced from the less-than-natural.

After her husband’s disappearance her heart hardened and she abandoned the Winchester name and any association with the supernatural. Packing her bags for Kansas, she returned instead to the ways of her own people. For Millie’s family had a long history of leaving their pasts behind them.

--------------------------------

Millie’s maternal line can be traced back to a small town in Limerick, Ireland now known by the name of Patrickswell. The farm where her grandmother was reared would likely have been a fair few miles from the town itself but it’s difficult to be precise about these things since many of the records of the era were destroyed in an explosion during the Civil War of the 1920’s.

Bridget Ó Laochdha lived in a hard place surrounded by tough people. There was no work in the surrounding towns and villages and her family was forced to eke out a living on rented land. Most of the local community spoke little to no English and spent most of their day-to-day lives conversing and working through the medium of the Irish language.

The Ó Laochdha family was no exception to this rule. Bridget - as the sole member of the family with more than a rudimentary grasp on the foreign tongue - had been translating for her father at the market for most of her young life.

The rugged countryside that surrounded them was austere and beautiful but there was darkness around every corner. Violence engulfed the region as the Land War raged around them. The threat of eviction was a constant sword of Damocles over their heads and the precarity of the political situation left a permanent mark on Bridget’s development.

Bridget loved her family, of course she did. She loved the language she spoke with them and the easy rhythm of her life. But she knew that there was a brighter future out there somewhere on the other side of an ocean. Somewhere she wouldn’t hear constant news of Whiteboys, Invincibles and their clashes with the police. Somewhere that was safer, where she might get a job and support her family from afar. All she needed was the means to get there.

------------------------------------

Mary idolises her dad when she’s young as children are prone to do. Her family are heroes who straddle the line between the known and the unknown and keep the world safe from the evil lurking in the shadows.

As a teenager, she joins the family business and she’s a natural. She excels particularly at getting information out of young witnesses. She sits amongst small groups of girls, nodding along to conversations about music, miniskirts and make-up and nudging the topic of discussion slowly around to the subject of her father’s latest hunt. Mary’s good with the guys too, she finds that a well-placed laugh or look can get her most of what she needs.

But intel is not the only area where she excels. Mary’s a sharpshooter and she’s not afraid to get her hands dirty. Hand her a shovel and she can dig a grave just as fast as the boys. She even knows the best technique for washing blood off her hands.

She’s on a path to be one of the best in the business. And she hates it.

-------------------------------

Although many people left Ireland to try their luck in the United States in those days, it was still a difficult path to tread. Tickets to get to New York were expensive and hard to come by. Buying a ticket at the harbour was as likely to get you scammed as to get you a place on the boat.

Bridget was fortunate in that her local parish priest was looking to sponsor a few young hopefuls on the trip across the Atlantic and offered her a place. That decision might have been the hardest any in her family had ever had to make. To leave behind everything she knew and understood for the small chance that her life could be better. She made that choice nonetheless.

The tradition of The American Wake was one that dated back to the famine years in Ireland to mourn the departure of a loved one to that far off place across the ocean. There would be no real way to send letters home consistently and economic conditions meant that the emigrants would likely never be able to return home. What do you do when you are setting up to grieve someone who is still alive? You hold a funeral.

On Bridget’s last day in Limerick she cried until her tear ducts ran dry. She sat in the centre of the room and listened to the keening women wail around her. Her father could not speak his sadness but he stood beside her and rested his hand on her shoulder, bowing his head in silent prayer. Her mother held her face in her hands and whispered one last goodbye.

Yet amidst all of the tears and the heartache, a sense of relief made its way into Bridget’s bones and settled in her spine. There was death and loss but a future there too. A brand new life in a brand new land. And while they’d never say it, her family was relieved too, she could see it in their eyes. This was one less mouth to feed, one less person to clothe. The money she will send home in remittances would lighten her father’s load by a considerable degree.

As she boarded the boat in Cobh, she stared at the ticket clutched tightly in her hand and thought not of what it had taken from her but of the life it stood to grant her.

---------------------------------

When Mary meets John for that second date outside his mother’s house, she knows that this is it. That he is her ticket out.

She clutches his body in her lap and cries and she doesn’t know what to do. With death and destruction all around her, Mary makes the only choice she can.

Deanna’s body still lies abandoned on the kitchen tiles. But isn't it better, in a way, that she never had to face her daughter leaving her behind?

------------------------------------

The first impression America made on Bridget was not a positive one. No sooner than she arrived at Ellis Island, did they take the last vestiges of her home away from her. Bridget Leahy took her first step onto foreign soil without even her name to console her.

Her first job in New York was that of a kitchen worker in a large airy home in the employ of a family belonging to the upper echelons of East Coast society. Her hours were long and her fingers near scrubbed to the bone. Since her food and board were covered, every penny that she earned was sent home to Patrickswell.

While her English had served her well in local markets of Limerick, she found that they were quite inadequate here among native speakers. She sat around the table in the servants’ quarters with the others who worked in the home and listened as conversations happened all around her. They all spoke so fast and the topic of conversation switched so quickly that she couldn't quite keep track. Bridget simply did not have the vocabulary to contribute and so she stopped speaking entirely.

The longing for home was like a physical wound lodged just under her ribs and sometimes she wondered how she continued to breathe through the pain.

The only times that she could recognise herself was on her rare evenings off when she made her way down to the local Irish dance hall. There she could allow young men from Inchicore, Kilrush and Listowel to spin her around a room to the music of home and forget where she was for just a few hours.

--------------------------------------

It is impossible to overemphasise how little the role of a housewife suits Mary Winchester. The sundresses feel awkward on her form and the kitchen still feels like a foreign land.

The other mothers in the neighbourhood all seem to speak the same language as they switch tracks fluently between complaining good-naturedly about their husbands and swapping recipe cards. Mary has never felt more out of place.

She doesn’t know where she fits or how to contribute. The loss of her mother is like a crater in her chest and she doesn’t know where to lay down all of the grief she holds in her hands. She thinks she would be better at holding her children without it.

When it all gets too much, she sheds the skin of Mary Winchester and leaves her small family behind to retrace the Campbell path. She might not be able to get her family back but she can pretend to be home for just a small while when on a hunt.

-----------------------------------

In a small catholic church on an intersection, Bridget Leahy married Mick Walsh of Tyrone in a small, private ceremony. As a married woman, she left the world of employment behind and started the task of homemaking in their small Manhattan apartment. She did her best to keep the rooms aired out and clean but the grime of the city was ever present.

When she looked out of the window and saw grey dusty streets she couldn't help but compare the view to green fields and the fresh air of the Limerick countryside. Her husband worked in construction, building monuments of steel to the sky that looked towards an American future while she remained stuck in an Irish past.

When Bridget’s pregnancy first became obvious to the couple, they were delighted. This was their chance to build something of their own on American soil. A family.

When her waters broke, the women of the neighbourhood rushed into her room to oversee the birth and refused to let her husband in so he could hold her hand.

In another life maybe Bridget stayed at home and married a local boy in Patrickswell. Maybe she gave birth at home next to her parents’ fireplace with all of the women of her family around her and her mother stroking her hair.

Maybe she was destined to die in childbirth no matter where she was but at least at home the last voice in her ears would have been in a tongue that was her own.

-------------------------------

Just like Millie Winchester née Walsh before her, Mary Winchester let the supernatural into her home in a desperate grab for the life that she wanted to build.

And just like her mother-in-law before her, a demon crashed through the walls and destroyed every semblance of a family that she had found.

#spn #mary winchester #i can make up backstories for all the grandmothers in spn just you watch #ill do something for the milligans next (not really)#anyway seriously to my mutuals no pressure if you don't like it #it posessed me to write it but i couldn't tell you if it was good or not #also i had to pare my writing down for the dean one bc i know next to nothing about coal mining in kansas #and i was trying to mask that #while i know just enough to be annoying here #emmigrationnatural

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heyitsgigisadventures · 7 months ago

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astringofmadhousefloozies · 4 years ago

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Hobbies and Holidays, Or The Halloween Fic

Yes, I know it’s June. I just like Halloween, man. Yuu’s quiet dedication to the finest of holidays sours when confronted with assholes who fuck around for clout.

Contains coarse language, attempted violence, sexuality and nerds being nerds. As always, if you enjoyed it or have any questions, let me know! I like talking with people.

~*~*~*~

"What's cooking?" Ace, cheery as could be, walked his way up towards your set up on the Ramshackle front lawn. "Is it curry? I hope it's curry."

"You might not want to stand downwind." You poked at the bubbling mess on the propane stove, sweat rolling down your back. A beautiful August day, perfect for your project. This sure as hell wasn't something you wanted to do indoors.

"Whaddya mean by that?" The breeze shifted towards him, and he turned an impressive shade of green, stumbling back with his nose covered. "What's in there?"

"Mice. I told you to keep upwind." You went in with a hand strainer, and scooped a pile of tiny bones onto a ratty towel.

"Why are you boiling mice?"

You mirrored his are-you-goddamned-stupid-or-something face back at him. "I wanted the bones. I went to Sam, but he said he's not allowed to order in dermestid beetles after last time, so I gotta do it the old-fashioned way."

"That's absolutely disgusting,” her said, the disgust and disbelief plain on his face.

"Don't we all know. Grimm fucked right off when the ghosts showed me the mouse graveyard."

"And your first thought at a pile of rotten mice was 'ooo, free bones' like some kinda crazy necromancer?"

"Yup." You scooped out another pile of bones. If you left them in there too long, they'd simply dissolve like in a cooked fish. As it was, you'd have to find a way to strengthen them. Maybe dip them in resin?

"Why am I your friend, again?"

"Because you feel responsible for me."

"Yeah. And you're fun when you aren't being weird and doing shit like taking cemetery pictures."

"I'll stop taking the pictures when I stop finding good grave iconography."

"Yeah, weird. I'm going to leave you to be a gross little maggot by yourself today."

"I'm not eating them."

"They're stewing in a pot."

"To get the meat off!"

"Yeah, whatever. See you at supper. I hope you don't stink."

"We'll find out, won't we?" you muttered, sotto voce, but he was already gone.

~*~*~*~

It was a beautiful day in September, and you heard him far before he knew you had. When you turned to look at Idia, floss wound around your fingers, he started. "Is my stealth that bad?"

You gave him the ghost of a smile. "You're not as quiet as you think you are." He hasn't cottoned on that you can hear what's in his headphones, if they aren't set just right on his head, and you aren't about to tell him. The face he makes when you pick him out so easily was too good to lose.

He nodded, fidgeted, looked at the spread on the table. "What are you doing?"

"Well, she's got to dry. So I'm working on this pattern until the top coat goes on."

'She' was a currently eyeless, disembodied head, that you'd picked up along with her body in a second hand store for a pittance. You'd unstrung her, scrubbed her clean, and now were putting on a face to match her sweet if imperious expression, a bratty princess of a girl in miniature. You hadn't realized you'd liked dolls until you'd seen her. But, when you had, your breath fled your throat in the same way it had only once since coming here.

He looked, but knew better than to touch. He did a little bit of craft work himself, mostly model painting, and wasn't about to muss your hard work. "She's... nice?" He didn't quite get the appeal, despite having two vinyl dolls you knew of stowed carefully in their packages under his bed. When you'd asked, he just muttered that they were anime characters and didn't come out except for photos because something something collectibles something resale value. Boys.

"I could do better. But it's enough. Thank you for letting me borrow the painting set up."

"Y... welcome." He squinted at the embroidery, finally noticing something. "Are those bones?"

In the center of each withered, poisonous blossom in your embroidery hoop, you'd stitched a tiny vertebra to serve as the center. "Yeah?"

"Why?"

"Why not?"

He wasn't ready to push it any further. "If you want..." He hesitated, and stumbled, and you waited until he just brought out his tablet to tap it out on a screen instead. "You can come do that in Board Game Club, if you want. There's a window. Azul shouldn't mind."

"I'll join you after I gear up and put the sealant on her. Thank you for inviting me." You gave him your best, most dazzling smile. "You know how much I like when you include me in your stuff. I know it's not always easy for you; how shy you are and all."

He squeaked and looked away, and you continued. "I should be there in about an hour. Make sure Azul doesn't keep up trying to wager me in chess. I can't fucking play worth a damn and he knows it."

He smirked. "He likes easy marks. Maybe try and get goo-"

You flicked a bone at him, and it hit him square on the nose as he yelped.

~*~*~*~

Welcome, October. Coolness and colour, a certain something on the breeze that felt like a home you'd never let go. Even if it hadn't quite hit the dorms the same way as they main area of the school. (Those little fairies that ran the weather machine didn't seem to believe in seasons for the dorms, or perhaps Crowley gave them a chewing out after the spring?) In amongst the Heartslabyul roses, you'd think it was still summer, and you weren't one to let a day of warmth go.

"Oh, in this chapel of ritual, smells of dead human sacrifices from the altar..."

"Stop that."

You looked up at Riddle, who'd found you in your secluded corner. "Why?"

"You can't sing and the lyrics are awful."

"Is there a rule against that?"

He nodded. "The queen gets to approve all music."

"Ah, of course, mine rosen liege. My petaled monarch. Emperor Rosa." A collar appeared on your neck, and you did not slow down. "Cardiac Sovereign. Dauphine De la Coeur. I can do this all day, Riddle; that collar don't do shit cause I ain't magic."

The colour was high on his cheeks. "Is it your job to annoy me?"

"Oh, you got me. I wake up and spend every moment thinking 'How do I best piss off Riddle Roseheart? How about I stand outside his door and blast nightcore from a boombox?' "

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Stop joking."

You laughed. "Yeah. I only do that with Shoenheit."

That managed to get a bit of a smile out of him. "Why are you being a pest over here, and not at your own dorm?"

"I'm just doing crafts, man."

"While sitting on the grass."

"Yeah, man. Won't be any grass to sit on soon enough. Made sure to not be on the croquet grounds or anything."

He looked at the mess of foam and ribbon around you. "What are you even doing?"

You looked down, and back up at him. "Crafts?"

"More specifically, before I kick you out for being awful."

You held up a padded frame, that you were carefully wrapping a satin ribbon around the many bars of it. "What does that look like?"

He just glared instead of admitting he didn't know, so you got to your feet and held the frame over your chest, the shape clarifying by being pressed over what it mimicked. "It's ribs. It'll tie on with more ribbon. Might put beads and stuff on it too."

He looked for a beat before nodding. "For later this month?"

"Indeed."

"... Continue, then. But be quiet!"

He was nice enough to remove the collar before he left, but not nice enough to leave it off as soon as you resumed singing to yourself once you'd assumed he was out of earshot.

~*~*~*~

"Hey, Lil?”

"Yeah?"

You looked over the riot of cheery pumpkins and Far East aesthetics that had sprung from your lawn. "You should've asked me, first."

Lil smiled at you. "But then you would have said no."

"I wouldn't have. But," you guestured to the papier mache dragon, "Really, my dude? This isn't what I would have picked at all. I'm not going to match."

"You're working on a costume? Already?" He lit up. "What's it going to be?"

"You'll see."

"Do I get a costume?"

You looked down at your not-cat. "Grimm, I didn't think you'd want one."

"I do now!" He scrambled to your shoulder and tugged at your hair, wailing. "Costume! Costume!"

You rolled your eyes. "Stop that, before I sell you to Lil to practice recipes on."

~*~*~*~

Grimm was no help. He changed his mind every few minutes on what he wanted. At least your incorporeal roommates were a sweet help, finally gearing him up with a hat by the beginning of the week.

"Do you still need one, Yuu?" The middling ghost, the one neither plump nor skeletal, seemed concerned.

"No, babe. I've been working on this since..." August, you think. "I'm good. I hope I can get a week out of it. I could at least do a different face each day."

Realization dawned across his face. "That's what that was for? I see. I guess you won't need..."

Oh, he made you a costume. Layers and layers of rotten gauze from the curtains, a spindrift take on the bedsheet ghost.

"Hey, I can use this, don't worry. Can you stoke the fire? I've got to dye this to match, I'll need some water boiled."

~*~*~*~

There's too many fucking people. You don't know any of them, they're loud, and they cram in wherever you need to go. But their fussing over you, their asking for pictures is nice. If only...

"Hey, are you lost, kid?" You lean down and reach a hand out to a fearful-looking six-year-old. "I can help you find someone who can help?"

He promptly burst into tears and collided into Floyd as he ran away.

"Hey there itty bitty. You need an adult? Hold on." Even with Floyd... being Floyd, he was a hell of a more welcome sight to the kid, and soon had him balanced on a shoulder to yell for his parents. "Who's under all that?"

"Your favourite shrimp, you overgrown string bean."

Floyd make an o of surprise and flicked the veil up. "It is you under all that! See, kid, She's not scary. She's pretty."

The kid simply eyed him dubiously before going back to trying to wave his parents down to get away from these lunatics.

All your hard work paid off beautifully. A mass of bones, beads and decay, a beautifully jeweled skeleton crowned with a fine halo of gold-and-bone spines and dried flowers. You rattled gently with every step, eyes staring out from a painted skull. They only thing you regretted was Riddle catching you earlier. Even if he hadn't intentionally steered it that way himself, everyone would assume you'd intentionally went to match Heartslabyul. Even more, now that you'd turned those curtains into a veil, even if you'd stuck all the bone and garnet drops you could onto the edges.

"Thank you, Floyd." You leaned up towards the kid. "Didn't mean to scare you, little darling."

The kid just stared at you in fear, and fortunately his parents came along to claim him, leaving you and Floyd by yourself.

"Shrimpie~" He'd scooped you up to replace the kid in his arms before you could protest. "You're so cute like this! Let's go to the alchemy room."

"What's in the alchemy room, Floyd." At this point you were used to him just... hauling you wherever. And you’d found that if you went along with the lighter end of it, he took you seriously when you said no. Weirdo he was, he'd at least gathered that you'd hang out willingly if he didn't push it.

"Oh, well you look so nice! You'll look much nicer in the water tube than the dummy we have in there."

"There are several reasons that can't work, Floyd. Least of it is I only breathe air."

"You're a ghost right now, you don't breathe at all."

"This outfit would not survive a dunking. I'm not sure it'll last the week if I don't repair it every night."

He kept smiling at you. "Even better! Wearing nothing at all on Halloween! Everyone would take even more pictures."

"Yeah yeah, and you have nothing at all in your room if I want to speed that up." You flicked his nose. "Put me down and we can walk over and check how it's going."

"Excuse me?" A stranger. "Can I take a picture of you and your boyfriend like that."

"I'm not her boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend. Go ahead though."

~*~*~*~

"What are you working on?"

Idia's voice was slightly muffled under the pumpkin head. "People kept calling my projection 'cute'. Idiots! They don't know the true fear of Pumpkin Hollow. So I'm adjusting the projection mapping so it's less cute, and more accurate."

"Hm. It seems fine to me as it is."

"You would think that. You don't care if there is a cuteness to things that are scary."

"There's beauty and sweetness in even death." You thought for a moment. "This is for that series you sat me down for? You got mad when I played with the toys?"

"Those. Are. Collecta-" he stopped when he whirled on you, faltering into silence. You really wished you could see the face he was making, he made such sweet faces, especially when he looked at you. You craved them, wanted him to look only at you with those expressions.

You smiled at him. "There's no use in leaving a toy in a box! I don't buy anything I don't intend to play with."

"Ah. Errrrrrrrrghhhmmm." He turned back to his work, took a deep breath, and turned back around. "You watched them, would you give me feedback?"

"Sure. Could you lean down a little?"

He did, and you carefully pulled off the pumpkin, revealing - nothing. No head at all.

You laughed. "Turn that off."

"Why?"

"I just opened your box. Time to play."

He made a strangled noise and started back, looking this way and that. "Right now? Anyone could come in!"

"Just for a moment! How can I give you a kiss if I can't see where I'm aiming?"

His head flickered into view, with a face full of mischief. "... Just one?"

~*~*~*~

"What happened to your makeup?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, model boy." You looked Vil up and down. "You're actually pretty hot like that. It's a miracle."

"Of course you would only find me attractive when I look like a corpse." He rolled his eyes hard enough to sprain. "Do I need to go lie down in a glass coffin too? Stay very still while you actually work up the courage to touch me?"

You snorted. "You wish I would touch you, you overblown jackass."

"With you looking like that? I'd die."

"Bite me, asshole."

"You'd like it if I did."

Your tone grew playful. "Is that a promise for later?"

"Ugh." His shudder was too exaggerated to be anything but an act. "Go ask your ugly little playmate for a bite, we all know what gross shit you get up to."

"You're just mad it's not you."

He pointed a perfectly manicured nail at your painted nose. "You're just mad I want nothing to do with you."

"Then why are you even talking to me?"

"I- why am I talking to you. Go away."

You did, but not before pulling on his cape to wrinkle it.

~*~*~*~

You had a dreadful feeling things were about to get worse. Call it intuition, or paranoia. But with any luck, that would change after a good night's sleep.

(It did not.)

~*~*~*~ These fuckers were getting exhausting. What a grand idea, picking unknown flowers to stick in your hair for selfies! That wasn't an excellent way to come down with a hideous case of contact poisoning at all. You had to swat one girl's hand away from a bed of monkshood, reciting symptoms of aconite poisoning at her until she stalked off in a huff.

And futzing around with the decorations! The only reason you didn't outwardly congratulate Leona on trying to rip apart a bunch of tourists was that murder is supposed to be bad, no matter how irritating and disrespectful the murder victims were. Even you knew better than to go around fondling random ears and tails!

(That's why you'd made the anatomy books in the library your friends. Far more polite than going up to a fellow student and saying, "May I feel around your skull for a few hours to satisfy my scientific curiosity? No one at home has ears like that and I'm very curious about the underlying muscle structures." )

Better see what's going on everywhere else.

~*~*~*~

You got up in tiptoe and lightly touched his arm. "Hey, Floyd?"

"??? Yes, Shrimpie?" His face instantly brightening, he dropped the absolutely delighted Magicammer he'd had pressed to the shelf and turned to you, leaning in as you crooked your finger.

You whispered in his ear, "Why waste magic on them when you can do so much more with your fists?"

He shone like the sun as he pressed his cheek to yours in lieu of something more intimate. "You always know just what to do."

~*~*~*~

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE."

The crowd of idiots instead turned on you with flash photography. "Another ghost! This'll get so many likes!"

"I MEAN IT!" Blinking away the spots from your eyes and casting all good sense to the wind, you grabbed a fire poker from inside your bedroom door and started swinging. They laughed and clapped - and only stepped back when you got the damned thing stuck in the wall while taking a swing.

"What an excellent show!" And more. Fucking. Pictures. How in the fuck Vil deals with this shit without murdering everyone in a hundred-foot radius, you'd love to know.

"I SAID-" yank "GET THE FUCK-" yank "OUT OF MY HOUSE!" The force of finally pulling the poker from the wall sent you careening onto your ass, and Grimm only stopped long enough to laugh at you before resuming his own ineffective charge. You stumbled to your feet, muttering. "Stupid little mother fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking..."

"Oh, it's a chase game! Let's go!" And they all fucking scattered into different rooms as you watched them in disbelief.

"I am going to kill everyone in this building and then myself for good measure."

~*~*~*~

"Leave."

"Aren't you going to scare me, Miss Ghost?" This last idiot was joyfully skipping around a bedroom that you'd had the ghosts empty out, nattering into her phone. A livestream, you think.

You're in you goddamned pajamas. "Sure. We don't use this room because the floor's not sound. Get the fuck out and leave before you fall through to the next floor."

The girl instead started to hop in place. "Oooooo, so scary! You'll have to try better than that!"

You rushed her. You probably would have throttled her (and wound up with a new ghostly roommate in the process) but as she backed up, your leg went through the floor where she'd weakened it, which left her cackling.

"You weren't kidding! Bye now!" And she just fucking left you there like the wretched asshole she was.

~*~*~*~

"I'm so sorry, Yuu."

"Nothing to be sorry about, Mal."

He rested his head on your bare knee and looked up at you. "If I hadn't picked your home as a stamp location, people wouldn't be invading this dorm, and you wouldn't have been injured."

"You fixed me up, didn't you?" He was the one who had pulled you rightways, and shut the scratches on your leg. Of course, he could have left your socks on to do that, but hey, those had been fixed too. You reached down and put your hand on his cheek, rubbing circles by his eye while he stared up at you like an adoring dog.

"This was supposed to be fun for you, so you could have a perfect Halloween."

"That's still a few days away yet. There's still time. And hey."

He blinked up at you as you leaned your face in close, flushing faintly as you did. "Any luck, we'll all make it to November without assault charges."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu?"

You subconsciously growled like a rabid animal as you turned to Lilia with your eye twitching.

"By all the queen's powers." He shrank back. "You alright?"

"Magimons broke the lock on our bedroom and shook her awake last night." Grimm was, by some miracle, in a better mood than you; content to be a comforting weight in your arms and be your anger translator.

"They took," you added, "my groceries."

Lil looked at you in blank shock. "What about the wards on your doors?"

"That's for magic, not fucking morons with no sense of personal space." If you made it through 'til November without actually biting someone's throat out and getting put down like a mad dog, you'd be sincerely surprised. "You of all people should know that."

"Hey, I put them back up after I drop in. You want to go sit with Malleus today? I think you need it."

"Nope. If I snap at him he'll take it to heart. Or just kill everyone who's not staff or student because they upset me."

"No he wouldn't."

"We both know he would."

"He would not because that would be bad press for the kingdom."

"... well, damned if I ever though I'd say this, but thank god for politics."

~*~*~*~

You stare at the empty plinths as everyone started yelling and scrambling. You look to the rubble of the statues, the bases, to Cater, and back to the rubble, nudging what may have once been a staff with you toe.

"And it's not even for a fucking political movement."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu, if we can get rid of the magicam monsters, we can have the party!" Grimm smiled up at you, all sharp teeth and blue eyes. "Aren't you happy?"

You didn't have the heart to tell him that at this point, you'd rather they'd just cancel everything and simply sleep through till All Saint's. Fuck your costume work. Fuck the party. Fuck everything. If you see another jack o lantern you will smash it. Fuck this holiday. You're so tired.

"Yuu, do you have ideas on how to drive the magicam monsters away?"

You stared past Cater's ear because you didn't feel like looking anyone in the face. "Tried to brain a few with a fire poker. Th'just thought it was funny."

This was met with the sound of air sucked through teeth, and a warm hand on your shoulder. "Come with me please!" And Ortho pulled you away with the force of a vaudeville hook.

"You're having a very bad time!" So sweet, so earnest. Right now he was the only person here who could be that chipper and you not want to put their nose out the back of their skull.

You gave him a weary smile. "What was your first clue, honey."

"She keeps kicking in her sleep. When she sleeps. And she's all snappy and horrible!"

You gave Grimm a single light warning shake. "Shut up, Grimm."

"Would you like to stay over so that you can rest properly?" He was hovering directly in front of your face. "Maybe if you're somewhere you won't be woken up, you'll feel better."

You raised an eyebrow and stared over at Idia, who was trying very hard to pay attention to both your conversation and his. "Shouldn't you clear that with someone first?"

Ortho rolled his eyes, the effect on his little boy face frankly hilarious. "Oh, he'd be so upset you have you over. Deeply so. He wouldn't get a wink of sleep with you there." He leaned in. "Except he would, because you wouldn't do anything to keep him up with me there, would you?"

You wheezed. "You think so little of me, Ortho."

"I like you very much even if what you both get up to is gross."

"Of every boy in this school, Yuu. You picked that one."

Ortho glared down at Grimm. "That is my brother you're talking about."

"Stop it. Can we check back in?"

~*~*~*~

"So we're going to run round and scare the piss out of them?"

Jade nodded. "That is the idea, yes."

"... Can I help?"

"Of course, Yuu." Jade smiled his smile that didn't reach more than a millimetre beneath his eyes. "But we've agreed you can't have any blunt objects. For everyone's safety. And the school's reputation, of course.."

"... Yeah, that's for the best."

~*~*~*~

"Can you guys watch Grimm for the evening?"

"Of course." Mal beamed at you from his seat on the Ramshackle steps. "Where will you be that he doesn't want to be?"

"I don't like the horse."

"You ride horses?" Idia was sitting between Mal's legs as Malleus carefully arranged the bright hair into a high ponytail.

"Epel taught me." You paused for a minute. "Do you?"

"Mother made me learn. I haven't in years."

"Makes sense." He didn't like the outdoors, after all. "Mal, how'd you convince him to let you touch his hair? He only lets me do that in private."

"It will look nicer coming out of his pumpkin helmet if arranged higher." Mal crooked his mouth and dragged his lacquered nails along Idia's scalp, making a soft noise when Idia gasped, shivered and abruptly stood up.

"Nope nope nope nope no more of that-"

"May I at least put the elastic in?" Mal held up a black band. "It's fireproof."

He instead snatched it and ran for the library as fast as he could without cracking the armour. You and Mal watched him leave.

"Hm."

"Mal?"

He was still watching the blue light vanish into the distance. "I think I can see the appeal." His dreamy smile gained a sharp edge. "What a delicious sound."

You snickered. "God, I know, right? You should hear some of the other ones I've got out of him."

"You're both disgusting."

~*~*~*~

You hadn't worked out an actual story for this one, just your ghostly roommates and Grimm telling everyone to leave the statues alone. But some asshole, wearing aviator shades and the ugliest piecemeal hoodie you'd ever seen, mounted a plinth to start taking selfies. And once that started, more got the idea, and joined him, trying to nudge the statue away to make room.

So, that's where you came in, pulling into sight at the end of the drive, in tarnished gilt and rotten splendor, jeweled Death on a pale horse.

Sunglasses looked at you and froze, before snapping another picture.

Fucking pictures. You're so sick of pictures.

You snapped the reins and nudged your heels, and who knew anyone on two legs could move that fast? Though potentially being run down by a warhorse was great motivation to move thine arse, as it were. And, thank god, everyone else booked it out the gate after him.

It only took a little maneuvering to lock the gate while still up on a pale horse named Beans, and now? Time to take him to his stable and go the fuck to sleep. Maybe through past tomorrow. Fuck Halloween.

~*~*~*~

You were riding your merry way when a familiar voice called out to you. "You dropped some loot!"

"What did I lose, Idia?" His little speakers mimicking the clang of armour were working overtime as he jogged up beside you. Once he reached you, he held up... a shoe.

"Huh." You looked down, and you had indeed lost a shoe while charging down a bunch of Magicam-obsessed assholes on a warhorse. "Thank you." That's when you gave Idia a level gaze, and stuck you leg out at him.

He swallowed back his noise of shock, and shaking, took your stockinged foot and slid the shoe back into place.

"Good boy."

He was turning from shell pink to a deep red that rivaled the roses in Heartslabyul. But that didn't mean he didn't know how to keep playing when emotions were high. Before letting go, he leaned down and kissed the top of your foot.

Now it was your turn to go red; a wonder the painted skull didn't simply melt off of your face.

~*~*~*~

"Shrimpie~"

You took a breath and prepared yourself. Scoopsies was inevitable.

True to form, Floyd had his whole conversation with you in a bridal carry. "We're gonna have the party!~ We chased them all away!~"

"That's..." Honestly, despite all the rage and pain this week had caused, you were rather happy about the news. "Nice."

"Ah - where'd your face go?" He leaned in, and you stopped him from getting too close with a finger pressed to his lips.

"I didn't feel up to wearing everything." Your embroidered gown and painted skull was replaced with a simple back veil and black dress. "I kind of hate this whole holiday right now and I'm ready to kick the next pumpkin I see."

He nodded, kissing your fingertip as he did. "I can help you after. But we need this all for the parade." He brightened. "You should paint up and get on the horse again for it!" He smiled, full of dreamy fondness and not a small amount of hunger. "I heard what you did to the magicam monsters... I wish I could have seen."

"Hey, I heard you didn't do too badly yourself." You leaned in conspiratorially. "Anyone pee themselves?"

He smiled like the sun post-eclipse. "Yup!"

~*~*~*~

Epel had been nice enough to help you kit out Beans in a fancy black harness, so in amongst the crowd of costumed students, you were both equally eye-catching. And hell, pictures weren't so bad right now. People were keeping a distance, murmuring to each other as they aimed their cameras. You thought you were getting a dirty look or two from Vil for stealing his thunder, but he had himself on the prow of a ship! It wasn't comparable.

"So," you said, leaning down a little, "How are you handling this?"

Idia looked up at you, you thought. "The mask makes it easy. They're looking at the costume, not me."

"I'm glad it helps. I wish you'd take it off, but you being comfortable is more important."

"What? You want me to ruin the effect by taking the mask off? Clearly you have no respect for the holiday." His voice had the sweet, bubbling quality that came when he was excited and happy, and it warmed you to hear it.

"Oh, no, of course not. But why would I want to taste a plastic kiss,” you said, reaching a hand down to run the trailing ribbon of his hair through your fingers, “when I could taste you instead?"

You had to give him credit, he only faltered for a moment before continuing. "Right now? In front of everyone?"

"I would if you'd let me, right now." You lowered your voice. "And worse."

He stifled a groan and only walked funny for another ten minutes.

~*~*~*~

"I thought you didn't like horses." The stables were in sight, but Idia had turned up, surprising you.

He rolled his eyes, and held his arms out. "Dismount, fair maiden."

What.

"I mean it. Your Pumpkin Knight awaits."

You shook your head, voice soft. "Baby, no."

"I'm trying to be romantic. Like your novels."

"Idia."

He stared back at you, sour-faced. "What."

"I outweigh you by at least sixty pounds."

"I can do this. I carry Ortho around all the time."

"Ortho's chassis is mostly fibreglass and aluminum. I can carry Ortho. I think Grim could carry Ortho."

He took a step forward. "Do you want me to leave you on the horse or not."

"His name is Beans." But, you managed to dismount into Idia's arms, where he stood stock-still and trembling.

"Kkc."

"Babe? Put me down before your back goes out."

His knees gave out first, and he crumpled beneath you as you both yelped.

"You alright?"

"hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

You crawled off his chest and he could actually breathe again.

"Better?"

After a few breaths, he managed a weak smile. "Maybe kiss it better."

Beans beat you to it, snuffling at Idia's face to make sure he wasn't dead.

~*~*~*~

You are not much of a party person. You like them, but the ideal party is a few friends hanging around in the same room, chatting at a reasonable volume and then going home to go the fuck to sleep. This was a little much.

But you know what this party had that you hadn't seen in what felt like years? Cute girls. In cute costumes! You've been flirting your ass off, with decent success; it turns out that the Magicam Live you did with Vil weeks ago had paid off in the form of smiles and fluttered eyelashes as girls crowded around you to hear tales of how fucking obnoxious you could be in this school and get away with it because you had friends in high places.

At least, until you caught something out of the corner of your eye, and you stopped. "Hey, I gotta check on someone - raise your hand if you like boys. Okay, you see -" You stopped and pointed at your poor, unsuspecting target. "With the blue-black hair and the painted spade? That's Deuce, he doesn't know how to talk to girls worth a damn, so give him some slack. But he's a sweetheart, you won't regret it."

"What about the redhead?"

"Ace is a prick but he's delightful. Chat him up too." With that, you went to check on Idia, huddled into a corner after an attempted force-feeding.

"You alright, babe?"

He nodded. "They're too much. But I'm alright now."

You leaned back against a nearby chair, looking him up and down. "You sure you aren't going to eat anything? I don't think anyone's going to care too much if you have your face out."

He remained completely still, and you realized you could hear a faint whirring. "Idia. Have you been using the robot double all evening."

"... I swapped out ten minutes ago."

You made a noise and he flinched. "I was going to swap back in after it calmed down!"

"... No you weren't."

"Okay, no I wasn't. But I was there for a while. I have proof, I brought plates back with me."

"You could have just told me. It's been a hell of a lot for you, I know what you're like."

Idia - well, his robotic avatar - shrugged. "If you're going to lecture me... come by and do it here."

You stopped. "You really want me to yell at you in person?"

"I want you to come by. If you want. You can stay as long as you want... if you want. I have snacks, and movies, and games that even you could play."

You snorted. "Oh, the siren call of a fucking nerd trying so hard to woo his chosen..."

"I changed my mind actually, you can't come."

"Aww."

"... That's a lie." He paused. "You can even take the Yume Twins out."

Those vinyl dolls he never let you touch. You throw your veil back and kissed the stupid plastic pumpkin head. "It's a date."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu?"

You peered at Malleus from around a stack of Tupperware. "Mal?"

"You.. enjoyed it all, despite everything?"

"Despite everything." You hefted the stack towards him. "Would you like to help? I want to grab stuff from the party that'll keep at room temperature."

He absently flicked a finger, sending the dishes swirling around to settle in a stack in midair, before placing a hand on your shoulder. "I have a... request."

"Anything," you said, and you regretted saying it as his breath hitched.

"Would you..." His voice faltered, and instead he simply wrapped you in a tight embrace, leaning down to bury his nose in your hair. You could feel him, chest heaving, scenting your greased hair through tulle, murmuring something against your scalp.

"Malleus."

He stopped, but did not move.

"No spells."

"You would not forgive me if I tried." You could feel his smile against your hair.

"I would not." You pulled back enough to look at him, and nearly froze at his besotted gaze before he schooled it into his more usual face. "Mal, you know you only feel this strong because I'm your first friend, right?"

"Does it matter? It is sincere."

And that makes it so much worse. "You know I don't feel about you like that."

"..." The grief that flickered across his face was enough to shatter a stone heart. "To stand with you and hold you is enough."

And they said fairies can't lie. They could, they were just terrible at it.

"You said you were going to ask for something?"

"... Not anymore. I doubt you would give it."

He vanished into thin air in a swirl of wind, and the Tupperware clattered to the steps, the spell holding them gone.

~*~*~*~

The nice thing about Idia's room is that, being a prefect, he had an attached bathroom to scrub the paint off of your face. It was a monochrome murder in the sink, splatters of grey with the occasional pinprick of red where you'd disturbed the new bumper crop of pimples from painting up as a skull for a week. Thank fuck that was over with. Even if the day proper had been lovely, the events of the week had thoroughly soured you on Halloween.

"You alright?" Idia poked his head in, long since divested of armour.

"Yup. How'd you get that shit off so fast? You got a suiting-up machine hidden somewhere?"

"It's less complicated than you'd think. Cosplay magic."

"That's nice. Unbutton me."

"... wha."

You looked at him via the mirror, meeting his wide eyes and shimmying in place. "Unbutton me. I can't reach them all myself."

"How'd you get that on every day?" He hesitantly walked behind, eyeing the row down your back as though it would burn him at the touch.

"I have roommates, remember?"

"Mmh." He finally undid the first three, before flicking his gaze back to yours in the mirror. "A... Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't ask, otherwise." You kept looking, as he took a breath and resumed. "Idia."

He paused.

"Keep going, I'm just going to chat at you for a bit." Two more. "You know I..." How to phrase this. "I don't intend to stay mint on card forever, you know. You can take me out and play."

He twitched, but kept going. "Maybe I don't want to damage you. There's only one of you, after all."

"I'm not so breakable." You had one side of you face completely clear, the other still smeared grey in the creases. "Would you rather stay mint condition, yourself?"

"..." He took a moment to gather himself, staring at the exposed skin of your back. "Maybe I want to... admire a bit. Get to know my- your- Uh."

You waited with a soft smile, until he found the words. "No one said you have to play straight away when you take something out of the package. Right?" He placed an experimental hand on the expanse of flesh between bra band and waistband, and did not draw away.

"Right."

"... Maybe I just want to hold you a bit before we play."

What a sweet boy you had. "Take all the time you need to. Even if we never play like that, I like you. Spending time with you is what I want."

You could see the motes of pink flickering through his hair. "Can I hold you now?"

"Of course."

He slid his hands under your dress, around your waist - then grabbed your soft, flabby tummy in both hands and squeezed. "Soft~"

You squealed with laughter. "What are you doing?"

"It's bare skin that's neutral territory," he huffed, before hugging your back to him and resting his chin on your shoulder. "And it's warm, too."

"Not so much as you. Keep me warm, will you? It's getting so damned cold at night."

He buried his face in your hair. "I can do that."

~*~*~*~

You woke to someone banging at the door.

"Son of a bitch." You managed to free yourself from Idia's sleeping grasp and make it to the door as a familiar voice started up. "Shroud, your tin can brother's already helping with clean-up, if you skip out because of a stupid game I will-"

You opened the door and looked levelly into Vil's face, which twisted in surprise. He gave you a once over (unshaved legs, mussed hair, boxer briefs from the men's section and a blue-black striped shirt that was clearly not yours) and then peeked over your shoulder at Idia (dead asleep, smiling faintly, possibly naked under the blankets). He kept looking between the two of you with increasing disbelief and horror, until he stepped back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Good for you."

"Thanks." Your face still hadn't changed.

"It's twelve thirty. If you're not both out helping clean up by three, I'm telling everyone."

"That's not much of a threat."

"Maybe to you. Shroud!"

Idia shuddered awake, bleariness washed away by terror as he saw Vil in the door and covered himself in the blankets.

"Be out helping cleanup by three or I'm telling everyone exactly why you're late." With that, he stalked off and you shut the door, mirroring his nose pinch.

"Dramatic bastard, ain't he? Even when he's being nice."

"How is that nice?" He only stopped shivering when you sat back down on the bed.

"Two and a half hours, Idia."

He blinked at you.

"How much can we do in two and a half hours?"

Realization dawned, and he started snickering as he dragged you in close.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfiction #idia shroud #malleus draconia

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