#WE ARE BOTH THY SAME

[boygirlctommy]

ok but this animatic is gonna be so good if i actually make it

[petew21-blog]

Love thy neighbor

Jerry:"Oh look he posted again. And look at the quote '

Instagram - Clark_779:'Luke 6:31: Do to others as you would have them do to you. We all have to remember to be kind to each other'

Harvey:"I can't stand him anymore. Such a fucking hypocrite. Pretending to be a good christian and at the same time making our lives at school a living hell."

Jerry:"Yeah, you're right. But he won't change. He'll be the same asshole as he is now"

Harvey:"Maybe not"

Jerry:"Yeah right. You're gonna give him a lesson on ethics and he's gonna be kind. How about Red Riding Hood. That's a good story too. Maybe you should tell me that one"

Harvey:"If you'd let me talk I would explain it to you. I have been visiting this bookstore that seels antique stuff"

Jerry:"Aaaaand you found a love option that's gonna make him fall in love with you. Great"

Harvey:"You know I'm not gay and no. Something better. I got these two rings to swap our bodies"

Jerry:"Sure. And you know they work?"

Harvey:"We could try it out right now"

Jerry:"What if we don't change back?"

Harvey:"The man said that it should be fully reversible as long as both of them are wearing the ring"

Jerry:"Ok, fine. It's not like I believe your. But why not"

The took the rings and put them on their fingers. But nothing happened

Jerry:"Look, man. I know you wanted to believe it, but you gotta learn that there are scammers in the world and they...."

"...just want to rob you." Jerry finished the sentence but now from Harvey's body

Jerry:"What?!?"

Harvey:"Told you:

Jerry:"Dude, thus changes everything. We could ne the most popular people in the entire school. No, we can be anybody"

Harvey:"Calm down. We got a lot of time ahead of us. But for now I think we should stick with low profile dudes like Clark"

Jerry:"Ok, let's see if we can swap back"

The exchanged the rings again and after a moment were looking back at the other person. Harvey noticed that his dick was now hard in his briefs, but decided not to comment on in so that he wouldn't leave embarassed and his plan would go to shit

Jerry:"Ok. So how do you wanna do it?"

Harvey:"I got a plan"

Jerry:"I don't want to get beat up"

Harvey:"Someone has to sacrifice. Now go and provoke him. I'll intervene as soon as he would start beating you"

Clark was talking with his bros near the lockers. Jerry didn't have to say a thing and Clark noticed his presence:"Hey, fag. Got my lunch money?"

Jerry sped up and went on as if he didn't say anything. Clark ran out to get him as his bros stood behind. He shoved Jerry against a locker, making him collapse on the ground. That was a big hit. Jerry felt his back aching

Clark:"I was talking to you, nerd. Give ne your money"

Jerry:"I don't have any money today"

Harvey came closer and offered him the ring. "You can sell this for a better price than just lunch". Clark grabbed Harvey's sweatshirt and lifted him up against the locker. "Who said you can talk to me?"

Harvey stayed calm:"Please, just take it and let us be". Clark took the ring and looked at it. It seemed manly. Not like one for woman. He liked it. "Fine. Only this time" he let go of Harvey.

Harvey was next to Jerry now. Jerry was aching. While Harvey looked surprisingly confident. Jerry:"So? What now? What if he sells it or throws it away." Harvey:"Now we wait"

They were sitting at the front of the class along with the rest of the seniors. Clark was with his bros at the back. Harvey was trying to observe him, but everytime he did some of his bros noticed.

Jerry:"He's playing with the ring" And he was. History class probably borec him so much that he had to take a look at it.

Harvey turned around and noticed as another jock took it from him. "Oh no" he noticed as he was about to slip it on his finger and immediately took off his. Jock looked how the ring fit. He said to Clark:"Can I keep it?". "NO, it's mine. Echoed silently through the class"

The teacher didn't care that they were shouting. He was in support of our school jock and was in their favour so he let a lot of things pass

Clark took the ring back from the other guy and put it on his finger. Jerry said:"Now Harvey!" Harvey slipped on the ring as well and waited

Few seconds later. Jerry looked at Harvey's face that changed expression. He even spoke out loud:"What're you looking at, fag?" Jerry was shocked. This was real. He looked back to see Clark smiling back at him. "Holy shit" Jerry said out loud

The teacher scolded him Jerry. Mister Barren. There will be no such talk in my class. Go visit the prinicipal right now and take your things. Jerry had a hard time trying not to smile

Clark was so dull that he still didn't notice yet. Jerry went to the principal where he got his detention. Message arrived to his phone from unkwon number:"Clark is really passed. He screamed out at the class. He made me look like a crazy person. Come to my NEW car"

Jerry was nervous. He was always scared to even get close to Clark's car and now he was about to go in. He opened the door and sat down. There He was. Clark, but not really Clark

"Sup, fag" Harvey said. They both laughed

Jerry:"Holy shit dude, this is crazy. I can't believe it"

Harvey:"No, this is crazy. Check these out" he said as he flexed Clark's arm right into Jerry's face

Jerry:"Holy shit. Dude? Can I...?

Harvey:"Sure thing. Go ahead"

Jerry squeezed Clark's biceps and let his fingers go along the lines of his muscles. "This is incredible"

Harvey:"So what now. Wanna get your new body?"

Jerry:"I think we should wait until the drama about your body is done. Your body looks crazy right now and if there were the two of us, It might be more suspicious. I say we go to your new place. We should check it out"

Harvey:"Right on, mister. Hold your glasses"

Harvey wasn't a really good driver and it showed. The ride was... a bit dangerous

They entered the house. It was completely empty

Now the boys inspected the modern kitchen with a fridge full of great food.

Jerry:"Dude, this is amazing. It must be crazy good to be this rich"

Harvey:"You know what's also amazing? Check it" he lifted up his shirt and swestshirt, pulling his jeans down a bit

Jerry:"Wow. Dude. Those are really hot. Can I touch them?"

Harvey:"Why are you even asking at this point? Haha"

Jerry went closer to give it a feel. He was so close to his tormentor/friends face now. He expected a hit from his body or that his body would betray him and he would start kissing him instead. "Ehm... wanna maybe go upstairs to see his room?"

Harvey:"Sure. I mean, we'll be spending a lot of time there. Playing video games and so on. So we should atleast check it out"

After an hour of playing Harvey let go of the controler. Jerry:"Anything wrong Harvey?"

Harvey:"I'm Clark now. And I'm sice of not appreciating this body" he started undressing

Jerry couldn't look away. He was so hard right now. " Harv... Clark? Maybe you should wait before I leave?"

Harvey:"Don't pretend like you don't wanna see these guns and the rest. I know you do"

Jerry:"Oh... you do?"

Harvey:"Sure. I know you're gay. I could even feel my dick hard when we swapped before. Can't really hide that"

"Now look at this beautiful big dick" Harvey said as he held it over his boxer briefs. "No wonder he keep fucking everyone at the entire school. If I had this body and dick I would too. Oh wait... now I do. Haha"

"Let's take a proper look at it. Oh wow. It's so thick. Wanna check it out?" Harvey said with a seductive look at Jerry

Harvey didn't wait and got over Jerry. Sliding down his boxer briefs.

"Come on. Touch it. I know you want to"

Jerry hesitated, but Harvey put his dick into his face. Jerry took the dick into his hand. It really was big. "Oh wow, Harvey"

Harvey:"I told you, I'm Clark now. And you should suck it" he said and pushed his dick towards Jerry's mouth

He smiled:"I knew you'd like it you little, fag"

Jerry couldn't help it, but this talk. Pretending to be Clark and sucking him off was so amazing. He wanted this moment to last forever. Or atleast to be repeated several times

Jerry swallowed all of the cum. Harvey was now in the bathroom cleaning himself off and taking photos

Jerry at Harvey in the bathroom:"I think we should talk about it, Harv... Clark."

Harvey:"Talk about what? That you just sucked my dick?"

Jerry:"Yeah. You said you are straight and now you let me do this. Did you do it just to cheer me up or because of the attention"

Harvey was still around the corner in the bathroom:"Kinda both. But do you really think that I would be straight in a body like this. Especially when his body looks so good in this?"

He entered in a maid's dress. Showing off and flexing his muscles right at Jerry

Harvey:"I couldn't let this body be straight. I would just limit my options.

Jerry pushed down his hard on

Harvey;"And if you'd want we can pick you a nice girl's bldy and be a cute couple fucking around at home and at school. But I think you'd rather let me fuck another hot stud and get revenge on these hypocrites. Am i right?"

Jerry nodded in approval

Harvey:"Good. Then let's pick you a hot body. I can't wait to fuck you"

Anonymous request in inbox

Can you do a classic swap story between a nerd and a straight jock? I always find those to be super hot

[nhaaauyen]

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)

PART III: WE THOUGHT LOVE WAS SOMETHING

zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.

series masterpost: part I // part II // part IV // part V

wc: 6.1k cw: brief mentions of alcoholism, violence author's note: ngl this just might be my favorite chapter so far, holy shit! thank you to all the lovely comments last chapter, you guys are srsly so sweet <3

Strings of twinkling lights crisscross overhead, swaying gently in the evening breeze. The air is filled with the mingling scents of grilled food and the earthy aroma of a crackling campfire.

It's a birthday party for Marcus's daughter, Ren, and the yard is alive with celebration. Sitting on mismatched chairs, adults chat animatedly with drinks in hand.  Children dart between the adults' legs, their excited shrieks filling the air as they run around. 

You can't help but notice Marcus's absence, and you wonder if he's working late or planning to surprise his daughter by showing up later. It's odd for him to miss such an important event, but you push the thought aside, focusing on the joyful atmosphere around you.

A group of kids approaches you, pulling you out of your reverie.

"Hey, lady! Wanna play Marco Polo with us?" one of them asks.

"Sure," You turn to Powder and Ekko, who are lounging nearby. "You two want to join?"

Powder rolls her eyes dramatically. "I'm too old for that," she declares, trying to sound mature.

You shrug and follow the kids to an open area of the yard. "Marco!" you call out, closing your eyes.

"Polo!" comes the chorus of giggly responses.

As you start to move, arms outstretched, you hear Powder’s voice again. "Wait, no! We want to join now!"

You chuckle to yourself as you hear Powder and Ekko scrambling to join the game. The yard fills with shouts of "Marco!" and "Polo!" as you navigate blindly through the space, guided only by sound and the occasional brush of a fleeing child against your fingertips.

Suddenly, your hands make contact with fabric. You grin triumphantly, sure you've caught one of the kids. But as laughter erupts around you, you open your eyes to find yourself face-to-face with Sevika. Ren, peeks out from behind her, giggling uncontrollably.

Sevika raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. "Ready to join the adults yet?"

You feel a blush creeping up your neck. “I was in the middle of winning a game.” 

Sevika shakes her head in amusement and hands you a plate of food. "You know, you're not a babysitter. Let the kids have fun by themselves."

You take the plate, shrugging. "I know, but I don't mind."

"Ah, right. You like to hang out with people of the same maturity level as you." Sevika teases.

Before you can reply, a commotion erupts near the gate and both of you turn sharply to the source. 

Grayson and Marcus have appeared, clearly amid a heated argument. Marcus's face is flushed, his movements erratic – clear signs of intoxication. Grayson stands firm, her posture rigid, and seems to be seething with barely contained anger.

A small voice pipes up beside you. "What's happening?" Ren peeks out, her eyes wide with confusion.

Instinctively, you move to shield her, gently guiding her behind you. "It's nothing, sweetie," you say, trying to keep your voice calm and reassuring.

But it's too late. Marcus catches sight of Ren, and his demeanor changes instantly. He shoves past Grayson, nearly knocking her over in his haste to reach his daughter. "Daddy's here!" he calls out, his voice too loud, too desperate. "Daddy didn't forget!"

Sevika moves swiftly, positioning herself protectively in front of you and Ren. Marcus stumbles to a stop before Sevika, his bloodshot eyes darting between her and his daughter. "How dare you," he slurs, turning back to Grayson. "You've gone too far now. This is my family!"

Grayson's voice is steel as she responds, "You lost the privilege of being a father when you became too drunk to do anything. The only reason why I'm still employing you is for the sake of your own daughter.”

His face immediately contorts with rage. "How fucking dare you," he roars. "You think you know everything? You can't even hold this place together!”

“You people think you are safe? Cause what, we have showers?  Look at your pathetic captains, my wife has one fucking mission with you,” Marcus stabs a finger into Sevika’s chest and you expect her to retaliate but she stands still as a statue, “Because of you... she’s gone.” 

The accusation hangs in the air and Sevika goes very still beside you, her expression unreadable but her fists are clenched so tight you’re worried she’ll bleed.

But Marcus isn't finished. His voice drops to a venomous hiss. "Fuck you. Fuck this place." He pushes past Sevika, reaching for Ren. "Come on, sweetie. We're leaving."

You instinctively tighten your hold on Ren as she looks up at you, her face questioning and so innocent about the situation. You want to protect her, to keep her from this mess, but you can’t and he scoops her up from your grasp.

As Marcus stomps off and the backyard falls into an uncomfortable silence, the cheerful lights now seem garish.  You look at Sevika, there’s a tightness around her eyes and her jaw is clenched hard enough for a vein to be visible. Grayson approaches, her face a mask of controlled anger and regret, and she puts a reassuring hand on Sevika. The two share a silent look that is full of meaning.

"I'm sorry you all had to see that," Grayson says, addressing the stunned partygoers. "Please, try to enjoy the rest of the evening."

But the damage is done. The carefree atmosphere of earlier has evaporated, replaced by a heavy, oppressive tension.  That night you couldn’t sleep, your mind kept wondering about the true cost of keeping Zaun safe and the toll it takes on those sworn to protect it.

Months ago if you told pre-Zaun you that you would care this much for the woman who was practically going to leave you as walker bait in the drug store, you would’ve thought you had gone insane.  But somehow, Sevika had snuck into your thoughts and made residence there.  

The garage door creaks as you push it open, letting in a sliver of sunlight. The air inside is thick with the scent of motor oil and metal. Sevika’s hunched over her workbench, her back to you, the whir of her bionic arm the only sound breaking the heavy silence.

You hesitate in the doorway, remembering Marcus's cruel words from yesterday. The pain in Sevika's eyes, quickly masked, had been unmistakable. 

"Hey," you say softly. "Everything okay?"

Sevika doesn't turn around, her shoulders tensing slightly at your voice. It's clear she's not in a talking mood, but you can't bring yourself to leave her alone like this.

"Fine," she grunts, reaching for a wrench.

You lean against the wall, watching her work. The silence stretches between you. After a few minutes, you decide to try a different approach.

"So," you begin, injecting a note of cheerfulness into your voice, "got anything to do?"

Sevika pauses, then turns to look at you, an eyebrow raised. "You're that excited already, rookie? Haven't you been on five or six missions now?"

You grin, relieved to see a hint of her usual self. "Six, actually," you reply, then quickly add, "But who's counting?"

A ghost of a smile flickers across Sevika's face. She gestures to the motorcycle beside her. "Well, if you're so eager, you can help me with this. Make yourself useful."

You push off the wall, moving to her side. "What do you need me to do?"

You might not be able to relieve the damage from yesterday, but maybe you can help her focus on something else, even if just for a little while.

"Why are you so excited to get out there anyway?" Sevika asks as you work together. "There's nothing to see but walkers."

You shrug, searching for the right words. "I don't know... there isn't much left out there, but it makes me feel like I'm not in a snow globe, you know?"

Sevika pauses, looking at you with confusion.

"I feel safe but it’s just… not real?  I want to be on the other side sometimes too. It's selfish 'cause we've got things so good here, but that was our world too, even if we lost it."

Sevika stares at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, her face softens. "I'm having a scout sent out today. Perhaps we can do our own scouting too."

Your eyes widen. "Really?"

"Yes," she nods, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "We need to expand our territory anyway. But first, help me with this. We won't be going anywhere if I can't finish this within the next hour."

"Got it, boss!" you say eagerly, reaching for a nearby tool.

Sevika rolls her eyes.

"How about 'captain' instead?"

She tries to look unamused, but you can see she's fighting a smile. "Suck up."

You saluted. "Yes, ma’am!"

"Smartass," Sevika replies flatly, but there’s a playfulness in her tone. "Now, less talking, more wrenching."

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

"Hell no." 

Sevika, straddling her newly repaired motorcycle, looks at you like you've sprouted a second head.

"What?" she asks, confusion evident in her voice.

You stand outside your house, arms crossed, eyeing the bike with undisguised suspicion. "Are you crazy? I'm not getting on that death trap – when you said you'd pick me up after you changed, I thought you meant with a car!”

Sevika rolls her eyes. "Why do you think we spent so long fixing this bike?"

"Nope. Nuh-uh. Not happening," you insist, shaking your head vigorously.

"What? You can go out there and face walkers, but not ride this thing?"

"Walkers don't get you into crashes!" you retort, your voice rising an octave.

Sevika sighs dramatically, holding out a helmet. "Just get on. I promise you won't fall off."

Grumbling, you take the helmet and reluctantly swing your leg over the bike. "What makes you so sure?" you mutter.

"Because of this," she says, grabbing your arms and wrapping them tightly around her abdomen. You can feel her muscles flexing beneath your fingers, and suddenly your mouth goes dry.

Before you can process what's happening, Sevika kicks the bike to life. The engine roars, and you let out a shriek as she peels out of the driveway.

"What the fu–" Your expletive is cut short as you zoom down the street, the wind whipping past you.

You spot Grayson on the wall, grinning widely as she signals for the gate to be opened. "Have fun, ladies!" she shouts as you approach.

"Grayson!" you yell, but your voice is lost in the wind.

Sevika glances back, noticing your tightly shut eyes. "Open them!" she shouts over the engine's roar.

Reluctantly, you peek one eye open, then the other. The world rushes by in a blur of color and motion. 

"I hate you!" you yell at Sevika, but you can't keep the laughter out of your voice.

She responds by revving the engine, speeding up as you clear the gate. "No, you don't!" she calls back, the wind carrying her words to you.

As much as you want to deny it, the scenery rushing past you is stunning. Lush greenery blurs into a vibrant tapestry, the sun's warm rays dancing across the landscape. The wind whips through your hair, carrying the scent of pine and wildflowers. 

You catch Sevika's reflection in the side mirror. Her expression is one of pure contentment, as if riding this bike along the winding country road is where she truly belongs. 

"You like it?" Sevika calls over her shoulder, a knowing tone in her voice.

"Maybe," you admit reluctantly. "Not too bad."

You can hear the smirk in her voice as she replies, "Well, I've got something to show you that might change your mind."

Your curiosity piques. "We're doing something else besides scouting?"

Instead of answering, Sevika begins to ascend a steep hill. The bike's engine roars with effort, and you instinctively tighten your grip around her waist, afraid you might slip off. The muscles in her abdomen tense under your hands, steady and reassuring.

"Look over," Sevika instructs as you climb higher.

"What?! Are you crazy?" you yelp, clinging tighter.

"Come on, rookie. Trust me," she insists.

For reasons you can't quite explain, you do trust her. Swallowing your fear, you turn your head to look over the edge of the road.

The view takes your breath away. A vast expanse of forest stretches out below you, a sea of green dotted with splashes of colorful wildflowers. In the distance, you can make out a winding river, its waters glittering in the sunlight like a ribbon of diamonds.

"Whoa..." you breathe, unable to form a more coherent response.

As you reach the top of the hill, Sevika brings the bike to a stop in a clear area that juts out like a natural balcony. From here, you can see for miles in every direction. Rolling hills give way to distant mountains, their peaks shrouded in a light mist. Birds soar on updrafts, their calls carried to you on the breeze.

You dismount the bike on shaky legs, your eyes never leaving the breathtaking panorama before you. The world feels impossibly vast and achingly beautiful from up here, a reminder of what still exists beyond the walls of Zaun.

"Worth the ride?" she asks.

You nod, unable to find words that could do justice to the moment. 

The silence between you is comfortable as you both lean against the motorcycle, its metal still warm from the ride. The vast expanse of the world stretches out before you, a breathtaking canvas of oranges, pinks, and purples as the sun dips below the horizon. Sevika's gaze is distant, lost in memories you can only imagine.

"This spot... it's special to me. I came here when Zaun was first established."

You turn to look at her, surprised by the admission. She continues, "I understand what you meant earlier. About feeling safe in Zaun, about missing this." She gestures to the expansive view. "The freedom to just... exist out here."

You nod, encouraging her to go on. 

"I also came here after..." she pauses, swallowing hard. "After Marcus's wife died. I was so close to saving her. I promised I'd bring her home." Her voice cracks slightly. "But I couldn't. Not alive."

The pain in her voice makes your heart ache. "It wasn't your fault," you say gently.

She turns to you, her eyes fierce. "I'm the captain. Every death is my responsibility. They trust me, they're my people."

You feel a surge of protectiveness. "But who takes responsibility for you? For your sacrifices?"

Sevika falls silent, considering your words. When she speaks again, her tone is delicate. "Every time you go out there, don't you think it could be your last?"

The question catches you off guard. "I do," you admit. "Every single time."

She moves then, positioning herself in front of you. Her hands rest on the bike beside you, her body close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from her. Her eyes search yours, intense and questioning.

"Then why?" she asks. "Why keep risking everything?"

You swallow hard, acutely aware of her proximity. "Because it's worth it," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Because out there, I feel alive. Because someone has to, and if not me, then who?"

For a moment, the world seems to shrink down to just the two of you, the dying light of the sun shining a golden haze on her face.

This close, you can see every detail – the faint lines around her eyes, the determined set of her jaw. Your gaze lingers on the scar that runs across her cheek. You resist the urge to reach out and trace it, to ask about its story.

Sevika’s gaze locks with yours, her voice dropping to a whisper, rough around the edges but laced with something achingly tender. "You make me want things I’m not sure I deserve."

Sevika’s hands hover near your body, fingers trembling slightly as if they’re unsure whether to close the distance or retreat. You see the conflict in her eyes—Every inch she moves closer feels like a dance of tentative steps.

You swallow, the intensity of her words wrapping around your heart. The raw honesty in her voice leaves you breathless, but you manage to find your own, soft and steady. 

“Then let me show you.”

Without thinking, you take the first step for both of you. You gently cup her face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over her cheekbones. Your touch is tender, and your fingertips graze the rough texture of her scar. You can feel her breath hitch, a mix of surprise and anticipation.

For a split second, you feel her resist, a remnant of her walls trying to hold firm. But then she melts into you, her body softening as if surrendering to a battle she’s tired of fighting. 

Her right hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, while her bionic hand settles on your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss is soft, almost hesitant at first, an uncertain exploration of new territory. But as the seconds stretch, it deepens, a slow dance of lips and breath. 

When you finally part, both slightly breathless, you rest your forehead against hers. Sevika's eyes remain closed while her thumb strokes softly along your jawline as if she's trying to memorize the feel of you.

"I didn't think..." she starts, unsure of what she can, or even what to say.

You brush your lips against her cheek, feeling the raised line of her scar. "You deserve this, Sevika," you murmur against her skin. "You deserve everything."

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The sun was blazing hot, its heat beating down on the training area Grayson set up in one of Zaun's less crowded areas.

"Remember," you say, adjusting Ren's grip gently, "It's not about strength. It's about precision and control."

Ren nods, and the other kids follow her steps with some additional adjustments from Grayson and Caitlyn.

You're about to move on to the next lesson when you notice one of Sevika's men approaching. Your heart does a little flip in your chest, but it comes to a stutter when you realize it's not Sevika herself.

"Got a mission for you tomorrow," he says gruffly. "Captain says to be ready at first light."

"Thanks," you reply, trying to keep your voice neutral. As he walks away, you can't help the twinge of hurt that settles in your chest. Sevika didn't come to tell you herself.

You shake your head, chiding yourself internally. She's busy. She's the captain. Why would you expect her to personally deliver every mission briefing?

Yet your mind still wandered to the kiss from a few days ago. The ride back to Zaun had been quiet, but not uncomfortably so. You had attributed it to both of you processing what had happened.

But then... nothing.

Since that evening, you haven't exchanged a single word with Sevika. A day turned into days and the silence began to feel deliberate.

You've caught glimpses of her – a flash of that distinctive silhouette disappearing around a corner, the echo of her voice giving orders from a distance. But every time you've tried to approach, she's been gone before you could reach her.

"Are you okay? You look sad." You're pulled from your thoughts by Ren's voice. 

Forcing a smile, you turn your attention back to the lesson. "I’m all good!  Just thinking, how about we work on our stances?"

Both Grayson and Caitlyn share a knowing look at your response.

“How about we take over? You have to be up early tomorrow.”  Caitlyn offers. 

You were reluctant, but you agreed, mostly because you knew you needed it and because you couldn’t handle the questioning looks the two women kept sending you.  

You're grateful for Caitlyn's insistence that you rest early the night before – the extra sleep has left you feeling sharper, and more alert. As you approach the gathered group, your breath catches in your throat. There's Sevika, leaning against one of the vehicles. She's dressed in military-style cargo, paired with a black tank top that exposes her toned arms, something she wears normally but you find that your body reacts even more so to her now. 

Your heart races as you draw nearer, but before you can even think about approaching her, Sevika climbs into the front seat of the lead vehicle. You swallow your disappointment and resign yourself to riding in the back of the truck with the rest of the team.

The journey is tense and quiet, everyone is lost in their own thoughts about the mission ahead. As the prison comes into view, you're struck by how eerily calm it appears. The high concrete walls are still intact, crowned with coils of razor wire that glint in the morning light. 

The decision to split into smaller groups is made quickly, you were paired with Sevika but your excitement was short-lived when you saw the tense look on her face. 

The massive iron gates groan as you push them open, the sound echoing ominously through the empty prison yard. The concrete beneath your feet is cracked with tufts of weeds pushing through.

Inside, the prison is a maze of long corridors and shadowy corners. The air is stale and heavy with the musty scent of abandonment.  As you move deeper into the facility, the lack of walkers becomes increasingly unsettling. You exchange a worried glance with Sevika, both of you on high alert.

Suddenly, a shuffling sound echoes from an adjoining hallway. Without a word, you and Sevika fall into formation. 

The first walker stumbles into view, followed closely by two more. Sevika moves with lightning speed, pinning one against the wall with her bionic arm. In a fluid motion, she drives her knife into its skull, the blade sinking in with a sickening crunch.

You dispatch the second walker with a swift kick to the knee, bringing it down before finishing it off with your own blade. The third lunges at you, but Sevika is there in an instant, her strong arms wrapping around its torso and slamming it against the wall. Your knife finds its mark, and the walker slumps to the ground.

You turn to Sevika, hoping to catch her eye, to maybe finally break the silence between you. But she's already moving forward, her eyes scanning the shadows for more threats.

With a silent sigh, you fall in step behind her. The tension between you becomes almost unbearable. 

And finally, you can't take it anymore.

"Sevika," you start. "We need to talk about what happened. About the kiss."

You see her shoulders stiffen, but she doesn't stop moving. "This isn't the time," she says, her voice clipped.

"Then when is?" you press, frustration seeping into your tone. "You've been avoiding me for days."

Sevika sighs, turning to face you. "Look, it was... it was a moment. We were caught up in–"

Her words are cut off as you both enter a large, open area – the prison's leisure room. Rows of cells line the upper levels, and old, battered furniture is scattered across the floor. Before you can respond to Sevika, there's a loud bang behind you.

You both whirl around to see the heavy metal door swing shut. Sevika rushes to it, pulling at the handle. "What the fuck? Who the fuck did that?!"

You join her, both of you straining against the door, but it won't budge. 

Then you hear it – a low, guttural groan that sends chills down your spine. You turn slowly, your blood running cold at the sight before you.

Descending the stairs is a massive figure, easily seven feet tall and built like a tank. He's decked out in makeshift armor cobbled together from prison riot gear. In his hands, he wields an enormous sledgehammer that looks like it could crush a skull with one swing.

"Shit," Sevika hisses, drawing her knife. You do the same, but your weapons suddenly feel woefully inadequate.

The behemoth charges with surprising speed. You and Sevika dive in opposite directions, barely avoiding the hammer as it crashes into the ground where you are standing. You roll to your feet, darting in to slash at the giant's legs, but your blade skitters off his armored shins. Sevika tries for a higher target, leaping onto a nearby table to gain height, but the monster swings his hammer in a wide arc, forcing her to jump back.

"We need to get that hammer away from him," you shout, ducking under another wild swing.

Sevika nods, her eyes scanning the room for anything you can use. "On three, throw your knife at his face. Aim for the eyes."

You count down together, then launch your knives simultaneously. The blades whistle through the air, but at the last second, the giant raises his arm, and your knives embed themselves harmlessly in his padded forearm.

"Fuck!" you curse, now completely unarmed. "What the hell is this guy? Is he a walker?"

Sevika shakes her head, narrowly avoiding another hammer swing. "I don't think so. I've heard about survivors getting all drugged up, ending up just like them. Mindless, but stronger."

As the behemoth charges again, you and Sevika split up, desperately searching for anything you can use as a weapon. Your eyes dart around the room, scanning the debris-strewn floor for something, anything that could give you an edge.

"There!" Sevika shouts, lunging for a mop propped against the wall. But before her fingers can close around it, the giant's massive form slams into her. The impact sends her flying, her back crashing hard against the concrete wall. You hear the air rush out of her lungs as she crumples to the floor.

"Sevika!" you cry out, your heart in your throat. She's trying to roll away, but her movements are sluggish, stunned by the brutal hit.

The monster looms over her, raising his sledgehammer for a killing blow. Time seems to slow down. You don't think, you just move.

With every ounce of strength you have, you launch yourself forward, shoving Sevika out of the way. For a split second, you lock eyes with her, seeing shock and something else – hurt, maybe? – in her gaze.

Then the world explodes in pain.

The sledgehammer connects with your leg, and you hear the sickening crunch of bone before you feel it. A scream tears from your throat, raw and agonizing. The pain is all-consuming, white-hot, and blinding. Your vision swims, dark spots dancing at the edges as your body tries to process the trauma.

You force your eyes open, fighting against the waves of pain. Sevika is on her feet, and the transformation is terrifying. Gone is any trace of the woman you kissed on that clifftop. In her place is a cold, merciless killing machine.

Her eyes, usually so expressive, are now flat and dead. Her face is a mask of fury, lips pulled back in a snarl.  In one smooth motion, Sevika snatches up the broken mop. She doesn't hesitate, doesn't strategize. She attacks.

The two halves of the mop become dual weapons in her hands. She drives one splintered end deep into the giant's thigh, using her bionic arm to force it through the armor padding. Before he can react, she's already spinning, jamming the other half into the gap between his helmet and chest plate.

The behemoth staggers, caught off guard by the ferocity of her assault. But Sevika doesn't let up. She's a whirlwind of violence, striking again and again.

You try to move, to help somehow, but even the slightest shift sends fresh waves of agony through your broken leg. You can feel the bone grinding, sickeningly out of place. 

The giant finally falters under her onslaught, his steps are laggard and his grip on the weapon wavering.  With a snarl, she wrenches the hammer from his grasp.

The man’s eyes widened in realization, but it was too late. Sevika shoved him back, the force of the blow sending him crashing to the ground. He tried to rise, but Sevika was relentless. She raised the sledgehammer high above her head, her muscles straining as she brought it down with all her might. The sickening crunch that followed was final, the man’s head caving in under the weight of the blow.

For a moment, the world went silent, the only sound was the ragged breaths escaping Sevika’s lips. The hammer is still clenched in her fists and blood splattered across her face – his or hers, you can't tell.

Sevika stands over him, chest heaving. For a heartbeat, she's still that cold-eyed killer. Then she turns to you, and you watch the ice in her gaze melt into concern.

"Can you move?" she asks, her voice hoarse as she rushes to your side.

You grit your teeth, trying to shift, but the pain nearly blinds you. "No," you manage to gasp out. "I think... I think it's broken pretty badly."

Sevika's eyes scan your broken leg. "We need to stabilize it," you say through gritted teeth, reaching for a nearby stick. "I just tie this to keep it straight and–"

"No," Sevika cuts you off, her voice firm but gentle. "I've got you."  She immediately tears off a piece of her shirt like it was paper and ties the stick to your leg to keep it straight. You hiss in pain as she tightens it, and her eyes flit to you with worry.

“Thank you,” You try to stand, stubbornness overriding your pain. "I think I got it now, you can't carry our stuff and me-"

"Yes, I can," she interrupts, her tone brooking no argument. Before you can protest further, she's scooped you up in her arms, cradling you against her chest with surprising tenderness.

"This is embarrassing," you mutter, your cheeks flushing despite the pain.

"Yeah, that's what you get for being an idiot."

"Wow, way to cheer a girl up,”  you reply sarcastically.

As Sevika carries you through the prison corridors, you can't help but study her face. Her guarded expression softens as she looks down. There's something else in there too, a whirl of emotions you can't quite place. 

You tighten your hold on her, tucking your head against her chest. You can hear her heartbeat, strong and steady.  The smell of grimy blood and her shampoo somehow distracts you from the pulsing pain in your leg.

The sound of gunshots echoes through the building and you feel Sevika tense. "Fuck," you mutter, "what is happening out there?"

Sevika shifts you slightly, freeing one hand to grab her radio.

 "We've got two severely injured," crackles a voice through the static.

As you emerge into the harsh sunlight, you see members of your group carrying people out. Two of them have nasty stab wounds, blood seeping through hastily applied bandages.

Sevika gently sets you down next to the injured in the back of the truck. You watch as the rest of the group gathers around the other vehicle, their voices low and urgent as they discuss the situation. There are still people left inside.

Despite the throbbing pain in your leg, your instincts kick in. You reach for your bag, trying to pull out the first aid kit. Sevika notices and immediately moves to stop you.

"Stop, stop," she says, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "You're injured. Let us help, tell us what to do."

You look up at her, seeing the worry etched on her face.

"Okay," you nod, wincing as you shift to get a better view of the injured. "We need to apply pressure to those wounds. Get the gauze from the kit and press it firmly against the bleeding areas."

As Sevika relayed your instructions to the others, you had forgotten to close your bag properly.  In your bag was the red shawl you kept from the night of the campfire, and unbeknownst to you Sevika had seen it in there, her jaw visibly clenching at the sight.

More of her crew comes out the building, hauling out the fallen attackers, their faces set in a hard scowl. 

“Are the rest dead?” she demands.

A gruff voice answers, “Yeah, we got those fucking bastards. We wanted you to deal with these.” The crew shoves three people onto their knees, their faces unremorseful and stoic. 

One man in the center is screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice raw with fanaticism. “YOU WILL REPENT! THIS IS A RECKONING! THE WORLD WILL BE CLEANSED OF FILTH LIKE YOU!” His words are overlapped with another man reciting a desperate prayer, his hands trembling as he clutches at invisible salvation. 

Sevika’s face remains a mask of cold detachment, her eyes flickering with something darker as she assesses the situation. 

“They’re not worth our bullets,” she says, her tone flat and unfeeling. The others understand immediately, pulling out their knives.

You see Sevika stride toward the vehicle's trunk, and she retrieves a machete, its blade gleaming dangerously.

Sevika’s expression remains inscrutable as she approaches the only woman in the group, the machete held steady and unwavering. The final girl locks eyes with Sevika, but there’s an almost reverent look to them.

Her voice is trembling, but defiant. “No one is safe—you cannot escape His wrath.”

Without hesitation, Sevika swings the machete. In a brutal, swift move, her crew slits the throats of the remaining captives. The girl’s final scream is a gurgle of blood as Sevika’s blade comes down with a clean, merciless swipe, severing her head in a single, precise cut.

Blood splatters across the scene, painting their clothes and the ground. The force of the blow sends a spray of it onto Sevika and her crew, but she doesn’t flinch.

You’re left watching in shock, the brutal display leaving you breathless and shaken. 

Sevika’s gaze shifts back to you as the last of the blood settles. The fierceness in her eyes softens just slightly, the ruthlessness giving way to concern. She takes in your injured state and the rest of the crew.

“Head back,” she commands, her voice almost robotic.  “We need to get them to the infirmary immediately.” 

The truck lurches and bumps along the road, each jolt sending a fresh wave of pain through your broken leg.  You shut your eyes, focusing on the thought of arriving at Zaun.

When you arrive at the infirmary, Sevika is out of the vehicle before it even comes to a full stop. She scoops you up, carrying you inside with a determination that’s almost palpable. As she crosses the threshold, you catch sight of the crew still being helped out of the vehicle, their injuries more immediate and visible than yours.

"No," you mumble, your voice weak but insistent. "No doctors... attend to them first."

Sevika's eyes widen in disbelief. "What? Are you crazy?"

You shake your head, the pain and fatigue making it hard to focus. “It’s a broken leg. From what I can tell, no internal bleeding. They’re bleeding, Sevika. They need help now.”

She hesitates, clearly torn between her instinct to protect you and your insistence. After a moment, she lets out a heavy sigh, clearly exasperated by your stubbornness. The adrenaline from the fight is wearing off, and exhaustion settles over you like a heavy blanket. Sevika administers a painkiller, and soon the sharp pain dulls to a throbbing ache.

Silence falls between you, broken only by the sound of your labored breathing. Sevika sits beside your bed, her posture rigid, eyes fixed on the floor. 

"What's wrong?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.  The fatigue is dragging you down, making it hard to keep your eyes open.

Sevika’s gaze remains locked on the ground, her face an unreadable mask. She doesn’t respond right away, but you can see the tremor in her hands and the tightness in her shoulders. With what little strength you have left, you reach out, your hand finding hers. The contact seems to jolt her out of her thoughts, and she finally meets your gaze.

What you see in her eyes is fear. Raw, unguarded terror. It's an expression you never thought you'd see on someone so strong like her, and it sends a chill through you.

Your hand moves to her face, fingers tracing the scar that runs along her cheek. Instead of pulling away as you half-expected, she leans into your touch, her eyes closing for a brief moment.

"It’s okay," you reassure, fighting to keep your eyes open. "I'm okay... just... don't leave me."

As you drift into unconsciousness, the last thing you hear is Sevika’s voice, a hushed murmur barely audible. 

“I failed you.”

taglist:

@mirconreadzztuff22 @lils-1979 @veoomvroom @schmoni @theacedragon0w0

@poxismind @kittykatz1227 @archangeldyke-all @abbyssgf @ivorydevil

@lez-zuha @iamastar @jellyfishrnice @anemoxlys @l0vel3tterl0ver

@lavendersgirl @h0pe-scotch @lia-winther @kittykatz1227 @dontknowwhenispawned

@sevikitty @sarahduke @raphaellearp @cewl-casper @crying-lighting443

@sodavrr @sweet-lover-girl @love-sevikalove

[galedekarios]

references in gale's banter on selection

just thought i'd go through a few of his selection lines that stuck out to me.

Oh, what a tangled Weave we web!

reference to: "oh what a tangled web we weave" from a poem by sir walter scott:

"Like so very many of Shakespeare’s lasting observations, it’s  a beautifully expressed aphorism that uses just a few words to describe one life experience so perfectly, and is so true, that it enters into the English language and becomes one of its most powerful idioms – one that will last forever. ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave/When first we practice to deceive’ means that when you lie or act dishonestly you are initiating problems and a domino structure of complications which eventually run out of control. The quote is from Scott’s epic poem, Marmion: A Tale of Flodden Field.  It’s an historical romance in verse, published in 1808."

the next one is is a play on a line from a shakespeare play:

All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

the play is titled 'as you like it' and the line appears in the following monologue:

"All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely Players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His Acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."

the next one appears to reference a poem:

The path less travelled.

i think this is in reference to the well-known poem by robert frost, 'the road not taken':

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

i think this ties in well with gale's wanderlust, his wish to explore different worlds and planes of existence.

the next one is a waterdhavian saying, which i already took a closer look at in one of my metas:

'Doth thy mirror crack?' Apparently not.

Early on in his learning of magic, the long-dead and locally famous first Lord (revered in Waterdeep for his role in establishing the city as it is today) Ahghairon said, "I am no wizard. I am a dabbler but no master of magic; it seems no mastery burns within me." These are famous words in Waterdeep, still known by most Waterdhavian children and all adults, and are oft referenced, as in the dry comment "No mastery blazing forth yet," or "A dabbler but no master, eh?" (Comments applied to skill trades and crafts, not just to magic use.) Tuezaera Hallowhand was a famous "lone cat" thief of Waterdeep in the 1200s DR who disappeared suddenly and is thought to have come to a violent end. She once robbed a wizard, and wrote this on his wall with a fingertip dipped in his favorite red wine: "I take things. You take freedom with your spells. Which of us is the greater thief?" This statement, too, is well remembered, and usually echoed in Waterdhavian speech by someone using the last (questioning) sentence of Tuezara's inscription.  Laeral, Lady Mage of Waterdeep for some years (when married to Khelben "Blackstaff" Arunsun), once publicly rebuked an overambitious wizard of the Watchful Order of Magists & Protectors thus: "If I hurl spells but think not of consequences, I am nothing. If I take lives but count not the cost, I am nothing. If I steal in the night and see not the faces of the devastated come morning, I am nothing. If I make decrees like a ruler but undertake none of the responsibilities of the throne, I am nothing. And if I do all these things in the name of the Watchful Order, I am less than nothing. Doth thy mirror crack?" These scornful words are remembered and used almost daily in Waterdeep even a century later, though almost never as the full quotation. Rather, someone will ask scornfully, "Doth thy mirror crack?" or "Hurl but think not?" or "Take but not count cost? Be nothing, then!" [source: waterdeep: dragon heist]

i think this one is very neat:

No gloom, all doom.

because i believe it references xan of evereska from baldur's gate 1. xan is infamous for his gloomy nature, often talking about his doom, the folly of the quest, etc. some of his lines include the following:

"We're all doomed! Run while we're still able." "If we are doomed to fail, could we at least do it faster?!" "Eh. Onward, to futility!" "We're all doomed." "Life is so hollow."

i think it's not so unlikely because gale also references other characters from the baldur's gate series and the forgotten realms overall, like elminster:

Elminster's not around, so might as well.

as well as halaster blackcloak, a mad mage residing in the undermountain in waterdeep:

I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away.

as well as another character from the games, edwin odeisseron:

Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you.

edwin, a red wizard of thay, was a companion in baldur's gate 1 and 2.

No rest for the wicked, I see.

a common idiom that originated from the bible:

No rest for the wicked begins as no peace for the wicked in a 1425 rendering of the Old Testament’s Book of Isaiah 48:22: “The Lord God said, peace is not to wicked men.” The sentiment is echoed in Isaiah 57:20, which in the King James Version reads: “But the wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt.”

another bible reference may be:

Seek and you shall find me.

You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart. 

from jeremiah 29:13.

more folklore than an idiom, but:

The witching hour.

Origins. The phrase "witching hour" began at least as early as 1775, in the poem "Night, an Ode." by Rev. Matthew West, though its origins may go further back to 1535 when the Catholic Church prohibited activities during the 3:00 am and 4:00 am timeframe due to emerging fears about witchcraft in Europe.

i couldn't find the poem in full, but i was able to find the line that references the witching hour:

Along whose banks at Midnight’s witching hour (So wayward Fancy dreams) aerial Beings pour!

another shakespeare reference is:

What fools these mortals be.

which is a line from a midsummer's nights dream:

“Lord, what fools these mortals be!” is used in Act III, Scene 2 of A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare. The line is spoken by one of the best-loved characters in the play–Puck. Here is the short quote in which the line appears in:  Captain of our fairy band,  Helena is here at hand,  And the youth, mistook by me,  Pleading for a lover’s fee.  Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be! Puck speaks this line to his king, Oberon, while the two are watching the four Athenian main characters lost in the forest. These four lovers, whose love affairs are at the center of the play, are behaving in a way that Puck finds foolish and amusing. It should be noted that Puck bears some of the responsibility for the complicated relations between Helena, Demetrius, Hermia, and Lysander. 

this one is, i believe, a dnd reference most likely:

May the dice roll in my favour.

i did however have the immediate association with alea iacta est:

Alea iacta est ("The die is cast") is a variation of a Latin phrase attributed by Suetonius to Julius Caesar on 10 January 49 BCE, as he led his army across the Rubicon river in Northern Italy. With this step, he entered Italy at the head of his army in defiance of the Senate and began his long civil war against Pompey and the Optimates. The phrase, either in the original Latin or in translation, is used in many languages to indicate that events have passed a point of no return. It is now most commonly cited with the word order changed ("Alea iacta est") rather than in the original phrasing. The same event inspired another idiom with the same meaning, "crossing the Rubicon".

Gone with the Weave.

this is a reach, but my mind always went to 'gone with the wind' (margaret mitchell's novel and the 1939 movie adaptation of said novel) when i heard it in the game.

nothing in depth here, i just wanted you all to know that, haha. (((':

A rough tempest I will raise.

this may be another shakespeare reference and this time it's from 'the tempest':

Prospero: Now does my project gather to a head: My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and time Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day? Ariel: On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord, You said our work should cease. Prospero: I did say so, When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit, How fares the king and's followers?

on researching, i found a reddit post that also discusses this likely reference.

the last one i want to end the post on is:

Your knight in magic armour.

this line is still bugged and thus i couldn't find it on the wiki, but it's an assist line for a romanced protag.

it obviously referenced the knight in shining armour:

The present-day use of this phrase is, of course, figurative and refers back to the notion of gallant knights saving fair maidens in distress. The reality behind that imagery is dubious and it no doubt owes much to the work of those Victorian novelists and painters who were captivated by the chivalrous ideal of an imagined court of Camelot. Nevertheless, knights did wear armour and that worn by royalty and the high nobility was highly polished and did in fact gleam and shine. The earliest reference that I’ve found to the phrase in print dates from the late 18th century – in The British journal The Monthly Review, 1790, in a poem called Amusement: A Poetical Essay, by Henry Pye: No more the knight, in shining armour dress’d Opposes to the pointed lance his breast

but it also features heavily in art, across various periods in time, like these from john william waterhouse:

i did see someone on reddit also discussing the creator and destroyer line in reference to various deities throughout history, which i thought was interesting as well.

anyhow, thank you for reading! i may have overlooked something so feel free to add your own thoughts!

🖤

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor- pt 2

quite a few asked for a second part to this, so here we are!

Pt 1

Summary: Your daughter starts her first day at Abbott. You have an interview at that very same school. Paths are crossed.

WC: ~4k

Since Melissa’s dinner, your daughter has been begging to have the redhead over for dinner again.

“She just makes spaghetti so much better than you!” your daughter squeals. “Please, Momma!”

“I told her the next time we have dinner, I’m cooking,” you chuckle as you settle her into her trailer for another day of DoorDashing together. 

You’re able to make relatively good money in a short amount of time, and you figure it should probably be an earlier night for Ellie since she’s starting school tomorrow. So, you head to the grocery store and gather ingredients for tonight’s dinner. 

As you’re locking your bike to the rack, you hear your daughter’s squeaky little voice calling, “Hi, Miss Melissa!”

You turn, and there is your neighbor, getting out of her car with a few grocery bags of her own.

“Hey, little girl!” the redhead waves and smiles. “How are you?”

“Good!” Ellie chirps. “Momma’s making spaghetti for dinner before I have to go to school tomorrow!” She then proceeds to whisper yell, “Don’t tell ‘er, but I like your spaghetti more!”

“You little stinker,” you chuckle. You grab a few of the bags from the trailer before standing up and waving to Melissa.

She waits for the two of you to make your way across the parking lot before opening the door to your building. Together, you make the trek up the four flights of steps with Ellie talking both of your ears off about how she’s excited to start her first day of kindergarten at the new school. She’s talking so animatedly that your heart melts- she’s usually so shy, but not around Melissa.

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” Ellie invites your neighbor over with a smile. She’s secretly hoping that the redhead will offer to make dinner instead of you.

Melissa glances to you, and when you nod your head and smile, she accepts the invitation. “And if your Momma is okay with it, I would be more than happy to make you your special before school dinner.”

Ellie’s eyes light up, and she jumps with excitement. “Please, Momma!”

You blink a few times, but you nod. “If Miss Melissa is okay with it,” you chuckle.

Ellie squeals with excitement, and she’s quick to hug the woman with red hair, entirely forgetting that she has groceries in her hand.

“You just made her day,” you laugh. “She’s been asking to have you over again since the last time you made her dinner.”

“Just let me put away my groceries, and then I’ll be over, okay Ellie?” Melissa grins as she lays a gentle hand on your daughter’s shoulder.

“Can I help you?!” Ellie grins.

“Sure, if that’s okay with your Momma,” the redhead glances at you. Ellie looks to you with wide pleading eyes, and you nod.

Melissa allows Ellie to run into her own apartment with a promise that they’ll be over in a few minutes. You tell her the door will be open before heading into your apartment to put the groceries away. 

They make their way over after a few minutes, Ellie carefully carrying over a cutting board and a bag filled with produce for dinner.

“Thank you, little helper,” Melissa chuckles.

You’re just pulling down the wine glasses as they come in. “Red or white?” you ask the woman.

“Red, please,” she requests, and you oblige. The two of you clink your glasses together before Ellie comes bouncing up to you and holding her arms out for you to pick her up.

“My little snuggle bug,” you hold her close, pressing kisses all over her face. She squeals with delight. “Why don’t you go put on your pajamas while Miss Melissa makes dinner?”

Ever the obedient little girl, she wiggles out of your arms and runs off to change her clothes. She’s back in a flash, grinning at the two of you.

“Miss Mel, can I help you?”

The woman smiles brightly. “Of course, hun. Can you grab me a pot for the noodles, and can you grab the sauce pan for the sauce? When I get that started, you can help me stir everything.”

Ellie is all grins as she retrieves the items.

The two of them make dinner together, you watching with a smile on your face as you drink your wine and check your email for any word from any of the places that you had applied. There is one- from Abbott. You grin, email the principal back saying that you would love to set up a time for an interview before closing your laptop. You tune back into their conversation, and Melissa is asking your daughter if she’s excited to start school tomorrow.

Your little girl turns a bit red, and she shrugs. “I’m nervous,” she admits quietly. “I miss my school and friends in Utah.”

“I’m sure you do hun, but your new school is going to be great,” Melissa tries to soothe. “I’m sure of it.”

“You pinky promise?” Ellie whispers and holds out her pinky. 

The redhead is quick to wrap her own pinky around hers. “You’re going to be so brave tomorrow when you come in, and you’ll love it.” 

Silently, she makes a note to check with Ava whose class Ellie would be in so she could surprise her and make her feel more at ease for her first day of school.

Dinner is ready a few minutes later, and it’s as delicious as it was the last time, if not more so.

After dinner, Ellie climbs into your lap. You take her and your glass of wine over to the couch, inviting Melissa to join you.

“One show, lovey,” you tell your daughter as she reaches for the remote. “Then it’s off to dreamland.”

“One show, and then one story?” she asks hopefully. At your nod, she gently pats Melissa’s arms. “Can you read me my one story?”

The redhead looks endeared that Ellie has taken such a liking to her and wants her to read. “If your Momma is okay with it.”

“Please,” she whispers into the crook of your neck as she navigates the television and settles on an episode of Bluey.

“That’s just fine, love bug,” you tell her. “But only one story, and then it’s lights out.”

You girl nods against you, and when the episode is over, she takes your neighbor’s hand and leads her to her bedroom. Ellie picks out a story and climbs into bed, waiting for you to tuck her in.

You do, and then you and Melissa are settling on the edge of the bed to read.

The redhead is really good at reading. She uses the silly voices, makes funny faces, and brings the characters to life in a way that you never could for your daughter. It’s… impressive, and you find yourself hanging onto every word she utters even though you practically have this story memorized. 

The woman finishes the story before closing the book. “Get some good sleep tonight, El. I can’t wait to hear about your day tomorrow.” She brushes a few of your daughter’s hairs out of her face with a smile before she stands.

“If you want another glass, feel free to pour yourself one,” you tell Melissa as you scoot closer to Ellie. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“I should probably head out with work tomorrow, but thank you for having me over again,” she says softly. “I can just see myself out.”

“Thank you for making dinner again,” you chuckle. “I promise, next time I’m cooking.”

“Thank you for dinner, Miss Melissa,” Ellie says softly, the warmth of her blankets making her sleepy.

With that, your neighbor heads out, and you press a soft kiss to your little girl’s temple. “I love you, baby girl,” you whisper. You turn the lamp off and head out, leaving the door just the slightest bit open.

You clean up dinner before heading to bed yourself.

The next morning is chaotic. Ellie is absolutely terrified of going to her new school, and you are doing everything you can do soothe her, but nothing is working. Finally, you just lift her into your arms and take her down to the garage. You get her into the bike trailer before taking off. As you’re pedaling out of the garage, Melissa passes you in her own car, waving and honking her horn shortly to say hello and good bye. 

After quite some time, you’re able to get Ellie to walk into the school- tears still in her eyes, and you’re met with the principal. She leads you down to the kindergarten classroom that your daughter will be in for the remainder of the year, and you take in the sights as you know this is where you will be interviewing tomorrow. 

When you get to the classroom, there is an older teacher standing there smiling brightly and talking to a woman who has her back to you, although you would recognize that red hair anywhere. 

“Melissa?” you call softly.

“You know Schemmenti?” the principal raises a brow.

She spins on her heel with a smile. “We’re neighbors, Ava. Hey, Y/N.” She crouches down to Ellie’s height and smiles warmly. “Hey there, hun.”

“Miss Mel,” your daughter lets go of your hand to throw herself into Melissa’s arms. Your neighbor wraps her up in her arms and holds her with love.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Working,” Melissa chuckles. “I told you I have experience with kids.”

“Miss Mel,” Ellie sighs again, clutching onto her leather jacket tightly. “I don’t wanna go to school… I can’t be brave like you said.”

“You’re already brave getting to your classroom,” Melissa tells her. “And guess what?”

Ellie hums to indicate she’s listening. 

“Your teacher, Mrs. Howard, is my best friend,” the redhead says softly. “And she is so excited to have you join her class of busy bees.”

“Really?” the little girl asks.

“Really. I just got done telling her what a sweet little girl you are and telling her how lucky she is to have you join. Why don’t you say hi, and then we can check out the room together?”

Ellie squeaks out a small “hi” before hiding her face in Melissa’s shoulder again.

“Hi there, sweetheart,” Mrs. Howard says softly, also crouching down to look at your daughter. “I’m Mrs. Howard, and Miss Mel was just telling me how wonderful and bright you are. I am so lucky that you get to join my hive of busy bees.”

“Why don’t we go check out the room together?” the redhead suggests softly. 

Ellie nods, but she doesn’t make any moves to leave the woman’s side. So, Melissa easily lifts her and sets her on her hip to take her into the room. You can’t help but watch in awe at how well your neighbor is handling your girl’s first day jitters.

The kindergarten teacher smiles as she stands back up straight and extends a hand out your way. “Barbara.”

“Y/N,” you shake it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“If you’d like to come in for a bit to help Ellie adjust, I would be more than okay with that,” the teacher tells you. “I find that sometimes it helps the little ones on their first day.”

You step inside, and you can see Ellie giggling as Melissa makes some of the new erasers on her desk dance.

“She’s happy now,” you sigh happily. “Oh thank God.” You make your way over to the desk that your girl is sitting at, and absolutely revel in the sweet bubbles of laughter coming from your daughter.

After a bit though, you know you have to go. The rest of the kids will be coming in soon. You wrap your little girl up in your arms, promising you’ll be back at the end of the day to pick her up, and she kisses your cheek gently. 

“I love you, Momma.”

“I love you too, sweetness.” With that, you thank Melissa and Barbara before heading out.

A few minutes later, Melissa knows that she has to head down to her own room as well. She stands with a sigh, and Ellie immediately tenses.

“Miss Mel,” she whimpers. “Don’t go.”

“I have to, kiddo,” the redhead says sadly. “I have to go teach my own room, but I promise you Mrs. Howard is going to take great care of you. I made her promise to keep my favorite six year old happy. You’re going to be okay.”

“She did,” Barbara chimes in as she stands from her desk and makes her way to the door to greet the rest of her students.

Ellie nods, unsure of it all. But if Miss Melissa says she’ll be okay, she will be.

“And if you feel sad or need a hug, I’m sure Mrs. Howard would walk you down to my room for a hug.”

The kindergarten teacher nods with a smile.

“Have a good day, Ellie,” Melissa tells your daughter, giving her one last hug, before leaving the room and heading down the hall for her own room. 

When lunch time rolls around, Barbara brings your little girl into the faculty room. The second grade teacher is already sitting in her seat and is scrolling through her phone when she hears Ellie’s squeaky voice.

“Miss Mel,” Ellie runs over to your neighbor and engulfs her in a hug.

“Hey, sweet girl,” the redhead smiles. “You havin’ a good day?”

The six year old nods with a smile on her face. “I jus’ wanted to give you a snuggle. I gotta go to lunch now, and Momma packed me the leftover spaghetti from last night!”

Ellie leaps off of Melissa’s lap and takes Barb’s hand. The kindergarten teacher walks her down to the lunch room before returning and settling next to her work wife.

“She’s doing okay?” Melissa asks.

Barbara nods with a smile. “Ellie is a bright little thing. And she adores you. All morning she was telling the kids that ‘Miss Mel’ is the nicest. All of my kids were so confused until I told them she was talking about Miss Schemmenti.”

The redhead chuckles. “I guess I gotta tell the pipsqueak to call me Miss Schemmenti at school.”

You bring your bike to a stop and wait for your daughter to appear at the door. You spot her clinging to Melissa, a bright smile on her face. Only once she spots you does she drop the teacher’s hand. The redhead waves in your direction with a smile before continuing to monitor dismissal.

“Momma!” She leaps into your arms, and you hug her as tightly as you can, spinning her in a circle and kissing all over her face.

“There’s my girl,” you smile. “You have a good day?”

Ellie immediately launches into a very detailed tale about her day, and you can’t be more thankful that Melissa was there to help ease her into this new routine. You’ll have to pick her up a bottle of wine on the way home to give her as a thanks.

“And Miss Mel came down at the end of the day and let me hold her hand the whole way out!”

“That was very kind of her,” you steal a glance at your daughter as you bike towards the grocery store.

You pick up the bottle of wine that you were going to give to your neighbor before heading home.

It’s later that night, once you’ve gotten your daughter to bed, that you head across the hall and knock on the redhead’s door.

She opens it, hair tied up messily and glasses sitting on the tip of her nose. “Hey.”

You offer her the bottle of wine. “As a thanks for helping out my little one through her first day jitters.”

“Oh, you don’t need to thank me,” Melissa chuckles.

“Please,” you continue to hold it out. “You made my life so much easier this morning. When were you going to tell me you were a teacher?”

“I told you I had experience with kids,” she shrugs.

You roll your eyes. “But you never said you were a teacher at my child’s school! I thought you were referring to nieces and nephews or something.”

“Nah. Been teaching for a while now. Pretty good with the little rascals, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. You thrust the wine bottle into her hands.

“You’re really insisting on this, aren’t you?” You nod. “Well then come in and share it with me.”

“I gotta keep an eye on El,” you chuckle. “But if you really want a wine buddy, you’re more than welcome to come over and make yourself comfortable.”

She smiles, grabs her key, and heads over to your apartment before settling on the couch.

The two of you share a few glasses of wine together, talking about everything.

“And how’s the job search coming along?” Melissa asks you.

You perk up slightly. “I actually have an interview tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Melissa raises a brow, looking impressed. “And where would that be?”

“Abbott Elementary,” you deadpan, a smirk on your face. “For the third grade teaching position that they haven’t filled yet.”

The redhead grins. You’ll be taking over her portion of the third grade class that she has in her room, and she’s already been told that whoever they hire will work closely with her to ensure that the students transition nicely. She wouldn’t mind getting to work with you. She would enjoy it even. “I’ll put in a good word for you tomorrow morning with Ava.”

“You don’t even know my experience.”

She has a copy of your resume in her hand when she leaves, and she studies it long and hard before heading to bed that night.

The next morning, you’re rushing around to get Ellie ready for school while also trying to prepare yourself for this interview when there’s a knock on your door.

“It’s Melissa!” your neighbor calls.

“Ellie girl,” you call from the kitchen. “Can you open the door for Miss Melissa?”

You hear your daughter squeal with excitement as she runs to greet possibly her new favorite person in the world. “Miss Mel!”

“Hey, hun,” you hear that soft voice that she reserves for your daughter. “Where’s your momma?”

“Making breakfast,” Ellie grins a toothy grin. “I lost a tooth last night!”

“Oh!” the redhead exclaims. “Did the tooth fairy come?”

“Mhm! I got twenty bucks!”

“Twenty?!” Melissa’s eyes go wide. She lifts your little girl onto her hip before making her way into the kitchen. You look rather frazzled as you try to apply your makeup while also cooking breakfast. 

“Woah. Slow down there,” the redhead tells you as she enters the room.

“Can’t,” you get out as you continue to apply some foundation. “Gotta get El to school and myself ready for this interview.”

“How can I help?”

You shrug, continuing to put on your face.

“El,” Melissa looks at your daughter. “Can you go finish getting ready for your momma?”

Ellie wiggles her way out of Melissa’s hold before running into her bedroom to continue picking out her outfit.

“Twenty bucks?” Melissa chuckles as she takes the spatula out of your hand and starts tending to the eggs in the pan.

“The tooth fairy was a little tipsy last night and grabbed the wrong bill,” you groan. “Hey! Give me that back; I can do it!”

“What you can do right now is let me make breakfast and take Ellie to school with me while you focus on this interview you have coming up,” the teacher tells you as she holds the utensil just out of your reach.

“What? No,” you protest. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Let me help you,” the woman says. “It’s not like taking El to school is out of my way either. She can just hang out in my room with me until school starts.”

Flustered and frazzled, you shake your head to ground yourself. “Okay, okay. Thank you.”

“What time is your interview?”

“Nine,” you sigh as you apply some concealer to hide the bags under your eyes.

“So… while I take Ellie, you’ll have plenty of time to put yourself together and get to the school,” she promises. “You’ll do your interview, and you’ll be great.”

“Thank you,” you say softly. “Seriously, thank you.”

“Go. Put something nice on- the principal loves people that dress well. I’ll handle this, feeding El, and get her to school with me.”

“There’s a booster seat by the door for her,” you sigh as you make your way towards the bedrooms.

You stop at your daughter’s room, and she’s put on her favorite sundress. She’s spinning in front of her mirror, giggling.

“Little miss,” you knock on her doorframe after a few moments of watching her pure delight. “Momma’s gonna get ready for her interview while Miss Melissa makes breakfast, and then she’s going to take you to school.”

“Really?!” she stops her spinning, and her eyes go wide. She breaks out into the biggest smile.

“Really,” you smile. “So, I expect you to be the sweet little girl that you are and listen to Miss Melissa. Can you do that for me?”

Your daughter nods, and you crouch down to open up your arms for her to fly into. She does with such a force that you nearly fall over. “I love you, sweetness.”

“Love you too, Momma,” Ellie sighs softly. She kisses your cheek. “Good luck with your view!” And with that, she’s running into the kitchen bellowing Melissa’s name.

You’re trying to decide on an outfit when you hear the front door open, and they both shout their goodbyes.

Ellie talks Melissa’s ear off the entire car ride to the school, and Melissa couldn’t be happier walking hand in hand with the little girl to her classroom.

“Alright, little girl. I have to go talk to Principal Coleman, and you are going to sit in the office quietly for me. Sound like a plan?”

Ellie nods enthusiastically. “Can I pick a book to take with me?”

“Sure.”

After a few minutes, the two are walking down to the front office. Your daughter finds a seat and opens up the book, swinging her legs idly. Melissa knocks on the principal’s door to put in the promised good word for you.

She ends up going off on a tangent about how wonderful you are, and how Ava would be a fool if she didn’t hire you.

Ava grins.

You take the bus to the school, knowing you don’t want to show up to this interview sweaty from a fifteen minute bike ride. God, you can’t wait until you get your car out here- life will be so much easier.

You walk into the front office looking confident, and Ava grins.

“Y/N,” she extends a hand, and you shake it firmly. The principal looks you up and down, clearly impressed with your outfit choice. She leads you into her office and takes a seat.

You hand her your resume, which she promptly puts into the trash. That… shocks you.

“I don’t even need to interview you to know you’re gonna be just fine here as part of our team,” the woman flashes you a smile and hands over the documents that you need in order to make your employment official. “You start next week.”

“What?” you ask, clearly shocked.

“A little birdie came in here earlier to tell me about how wonderful you are and that I would be a fool to not hire you,” Ava says. “So… the job’s yours.”

You don’t quite know what Melissa told the principal to get her to hire you on the spot without an interview or a demo lesson… but you know you’re going to have to get her a bottle of wine as a thank you- a bottle of wine that the two of you will inevitably end up sharing tonight in celebration.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

Bonus DP x DC prompt “Star-crossed lovers” to this prompt where Batclan ship “Pitch Pearl”

"Give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun." -Juliet (act 3, scene 2)

Red Hood stays in Amity Park to observe the situation after the romantic conflict resolution between Fenton and Phantom.

One day from a rooftop next to the Fenton Works he sees Fenton putting toxic ectoplasm in a bottle on the table, sighing and pouring it into a glass.

The horror of plunging into the Lazarus pit flashes before Jason’s eyes. Who would be crazy enough to want to experience such a thing? And for what?

As a proud bookworm, he could not help but remember the story of Romeo and Juliet at the same moment.

"My only love sprung from my only hate, too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me that I must love my enemy." -Juliet (act 1, scene 5)

Parents who are against relationships and hate the fact that their child’s partner exists? Checked out.

Dead Romeo? Uh, yeah, definitely.

Vial of poison? Freely available in the lab.

There can be only one logical conclusion: Seeing the dead lover, Fenton thinks only about how soon to die himself.

Is Fenton ready to join his lover in the Kingdom of the Dead? He has no guarantee of returning as a ghost, so why risk it?

Jason*runs to save “Juliet”*: I defy you, stars!

~~~~

Needless to say, sleep-deprived Danny is extremely unhappy when a guy in a leather jacket breaks into his house and tries to take his lunch away. 

Both boys panick, scream and absolutely not hear each other.

Jason: Don’t do this! It’s not worth it, there must be another way! 

Danny: Give me my soup back, thief! Take the turkey, it’s going to go bad.

Jason: I am serious.“ Love moderately. Long love doth so.

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.” Leave the ectoplasm to the dead ones, boy.

Danny: What a coincidence, I’m already dead deep deep inside.

Jason: Don’t joke, you should talk to a therapist.

Danny: Great idea. Jazz, help! Human in the house! This is not a drill!

Jason:..In general, both of you should talk to the Justice League. They can protect Phantom from your parents, don’t worry. You are not alone. 

~~~~

Fenton, sitting in front of the Justice League.

Flash: So, you and Phantom, how did you decide to start dating?

Danny: Well, what can I say in defense.. "Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty." -Romeo (act 5, scene 3)

Justice League:

Danny: Just kidding. I learned a whole quote for this. Can someone be proud of me, please? 

Batman: Hmmm

Danny: Thanks. And relax, I knew him before he died. Our relationship has always been complicated but we literally can’t exist without each other. So don’t worry about our breakup, it’s unlikely.

Danny: And don’t think I’d kill myself in such a stupid way, it’s boring. You might want to be more concerned about whether or not I’m shocking myself with a Fenton portal than watching my food. My stomach is indestructible, tested by years of ecto-contaminated cooking. But I don’t want to die. All this RIP is a complete lie. Trust me.

Red Hood: You. use to eat. ectoplasm?!

Danny: Yes, it's very nutritious. But you need to develop tolerance to it, otherwise you will be able to try it only once in a lifetime.

[chronicowboy]

because we know all it takes for evan buckley to have an epiphany is a Single Kiss i think gerard should be saying some bullshit about the 118 turning a bunch of good manly firemen gay and then he turns to eddie and is like "better watch out, diaz, don't want the rainbow to catch you too" and eddie is fed up of this man's bullshit actually so just walks over to buck (he's closest, that's why, that's the ONLY reason guys, stop laughing at him) and plants a Very Firm kiss right on buck's mouth and whilst mildly (see: on the verge of another heart attack panic attack) freaking out (buck is essentially catatonic at this point btw) turns around to captain bigot like "whoops i think the mustache must have caused some drag, slowed me down, couldn't outrun the rainbow, anybody want any skittles? want to taste the rainbow, captain?" hen and chimney are holding in gleeful laughter. buck hasn't breathed once. eddie runs away to go freak out in private. buck looks at chimney for help who just throws his hands up like "i'm not kissing you", looks to hen "hey now don't look at me these lips are for karen and karen only". buck, in an act of both extreme self preservation and destruction goes "GUYS eddie just kissed me! he's clearly in crisis mode. we need to do something about this!" bonus: cut to eddie heading into a confessional booth like "i kissed my best friend and technically made him cheat on his boyfriend but i don't feel all that bad about it and i only did it to get back at a bigot and i know revenge is frowned upon by the bible but that guy wasn't loving thy neighbor you know. anyway is kissing a man a sin? ive heard conflicting things so id love some clarification on that because i might want to do it again" and the hot priest's katy perry ringtone goes off again, he hasn't learnt from his mistakes with bobby in s1, and hot priest is like "haha well as you can probably tell i dont preach loving men as a sin in my congregation" and eddie's like ".....oh..... my god ?????" they're both flustered by each other so they both accidentally come out of the confessional at the same time and look at each other and eddie's like "oh im definitely going to hell" and hot priest laughs before smiling shyly and goes "want to tell me about your best friend?"

[buttfrovski]

Enter CRAIG

CRAIG: Ho, Tweek! Come hither. Hark, our courtship wilt end.

TWEEK: What? wherefore not?

Enter STAN, KYLE, KENNY, DAVID, and BUTTERS

CRAIG: I prithee, Tweek, I am full of sorrow, yet we can no longer deceive ourselves. [turns to visage the gathering crowd] Aye, we are of the same inclination, but we are not meant to be as one.

TWEEK: Thee disavow our bond? What suddenly hath changed, craig?

CRAIG: ‘Tis just yond people art inevitably different. Nothing more.

TWEEK: Aye, and who in heaven's name is Michael? Pray, dost thou wish to enlighten me on this matter?

CRAIG: What? what doth thee speaketh of?

TWEEK: I did peruse thy missives when we ventured forth yesternight, Craig! I beheld what thou didst utter to this strumpet regarding thy intent to consort with him!

CRAIG: Stay, prithee, that is not what transpired.

TWEEK: I pray thee confess otherwise

CRAIG: Nay. Mark thee, we both dost know this is for the better.

TWEEK: Thou dost presume to subject me to thy feeble terrors! Thou dost impose thy will upon me to dissuade thine own guilt!

CRAIG: Stay, do not portray me as the knave.

TWEEK: [Begins to cry] Fie, thou art not the villain. Thou think'st thyself too virtuous to be some loathsome knave. For, 'tis from thy heavenly throne that thou canst better behold the folk thou usest as puppets.

CRAIG: [whispers] I do fear thou hast ventured far enough. Cease, for this pretense is superfluous.

TWEEK: Zounds! Dost thou think I have gone too far? Hast thou lost thy wits?

CRAIG: This condemnation was not a part of our design!

TWEEK: Marry Prithee, Craig! Our love was not wrought to adhere to a design!

BUTTERS: Aye!

TWEEK: [tears fill his eyes] I have been most grievously deceived by thee. I lay bare mine heart before thee. I lay bare mine affection unto thee. I embrace thee as mine lord. But, alas, I fall upon the sword. Thy sword.

Exuent Tweek

[scoutswritingcorner]

Put Your Worries To Rest

Zestial x GN!Reader

A/N:FIRST TIME WRITING FOR THE BOY- SORRY IF I GET ANYTHING WRONG. Also very short. Possibly incorrect old english.

TW:Talks about nightmares and insomnia

You were having trouble sleeping as of late. Where you would be snuggled in bed with your husband as you both slept, it turned into nights staying awake curled in on yourself as nightmares have plagued your mind. 

It was only after he had found you slumped over the dining room table, that he carefully awoke your sleeping form, “Mine heart, why are thou sleeping at the table? Doth thou not find our bed comfy?” His deep voice rumbled you fully awake as you looked up at him, you’ve been caught.  “No no, I’ve just been having trouble sleeping lately, Dear.” You said allowing him to help you stand up. His large hands wrapped around one of your hands as he hummed. “Is someone giving thou troubles? I shall deal with it if thou shall grant thee the word.” You chuckled and shook your head, following him to your shared chambers, the conversation lulling to a comfortable silence as you allowed your mind to wander.

Your husband was nothing but patient at these times. “I’ve been having nightmares and so I figured if I stayed up those pesky thoughts wouldn’t bother me as much.” You confided watching as he turned his undivided attention towards you. “If thou never mind me asking, what kind of nightmares plague thy mind?” You froze at the question playing with the golden band on your finger, “..my death.” You whispered out not meeting his gaze. “I..I’ve never thought about it but now it’s torturing me every night.” 

His hands slowly grazed your cheek as he tilted your head up so you could meet his gaze. The soft gaze you were only ever allowed to see, he didn’t hide his true nature from you but this was the only way he looked at you. You weren’t beneath him nor did he hate you. He adored you, you were on the same level as him. You were his equal and you were treated as such, anyone treating you as anything else was not only disrespecting you but him as well. “Our perpetual wink is a hard thing to reminisce. It only is the way we remember how to be human yet never let that fear take ahold of thou, dear. I am hither  with thou, thou never hast to carry that burden any longer.” You leaned into his touch allowing yourself to feel the heavy burden that is exhaustion.

One of his slender hands brings your hand up as he leans the rest of the way down and presses a kiss to the golden band wrapped around your finger. A gentle reminder of the vows you both took so long ago. “Put thy worries to rest now, beloved. I shall be next thee when thou awake and are much more rested.” You nodded and leaned over to press a kiss to his hand in return, his smile widening from the display of affection. 

With one last kiss to your lips he gently nudges you towards the bedroom, his large hand splayed on your lower back. It was warm and comforting for you.

[crimsoneater]

~On Billiards~ II aventurine x fem reader II NSFW II 18+ II modern AU II

The sounds of vehicles of penacony isn't reaching to the top of the extremely high apartment, of Aventurine's.

The city light dimmed beneath the night covering black skies- as the stars laid in the dark, abyssal, haunting surface of an endless surpassed void, up ahead the atmosphere of penacony.

The illuminating soft light, showers underneath the tempting, faint smile, of Aventurine, as his eyes are focusing on you, and only you; whom is trying to target the ball.

"Quit glarin', before i poke your eyes out of its supposed place," Your words are harsh; but he knows himself, and you too. You don't mind his affection for you; and you even perhaps liked it a bit.

"I'd love to see you try, Princess." His words came out, as a light laugh, as you finished your turns, now it's his. "Not bad, for your first time," He commented, as he, himself positioned himself.

"But, next turn; i'd love to teach you somethin'," He poked the ball with the end of his cue; knocking, and rolling three balls in, Damn, he's good, Your thoughts wander off, as you saw his shirt raised to his waist, while he's leaning to the billiard table.

"I Don't need teaching." Cold response came flying from your lips, as his eyes, now looked into yours, as he leaned back; standing up properly, towering over you.

"Oh yea,?" You could feel his hot breath, blowing against the cold air. The drinks you both had finished earlier, before the game, started to kick in, leading his close-up, caused quite a soft stir, in your tummy. Butterflies from your stomach- felt like it's crawling out from your mouth.

"Is that so? The bratty princess, needs no more teaching, eh?" His soft chuckles sends shivers crawling on the back of your spine. Fuck- why's he so fine, in this kind of situations,?

"C'mon,... it won't take much, would it?" He slowly looked at you fully; bottom to the top. Admiring your body curve, in the dress, you are wearing right now.

You can't help, but felt a slight tingle brushing against your over-sensitive skin, as you felt his thumb rubbing against your porcelain skin. Aeons, you looked so delicious tonight, he wanted to eat you now and then.

Letting yourselves get carried away, now you are leaning against the billiard table, as his body pressed on top of yours, body grinding as he positioned you both; and the cue, facing towards the target.

"I Would rather suffer hell, than this," You let out a soft gasp, under him, as he poked the cue, making other two balls falls right into. You can't help, but notice his sweet reply.

"Don't worry; if you suffered hell, i'll bring you up to heaven myself. Even, better," He purposely teases you, by whispering thy words onto your ears, while being in such close state. What a b!tch, ain't he? but what can you say? He's like a drug. Addictive, dreamy, but unhealthy. Some says he's a creep, but for you, you've been trapped under his very own fingers. You know yourselves; he's ever going to let you go out of his grasp, and you don't plan either.

"Fuck," You cursed, as he muttered under his hitching breath; "Say it louder," you hear his voice, as he doesn't let you stood back up. Instead, he whispered in a tone that makes your stomach turned upside-down,

"Please,..,?" He sounded so cute- begging for you. No, not because he wanted you. It's because he needed you. Under him, or on top of him. Aeons, he don't mind.

"Stop acting all whiny- we both knows you'll get whatcha wants all the time," The man grinned, as he grabs your slick waist, as he gently turned you, facing him. His strong arms grabbed your thigh, carrying 'em, to the surface of the billiard table.

"Aeons, you smelled so fuckin' good," He let your hands wrapped around his neck, as he let himself arouse your neck, biting it, marking it. Hurting you, but at the same time, pleasuring you, amusing you, turnin' you up.

Red bite marks, hickeys, are all over, spreaded every inch of your delicate necks, as you could feel his sly tongue; licking every spot on the sensitive areas of your neck, making soft moans escaped your plump lips, making your teeth grits each other in rhyme; each seconds, while you gasped.

"You're all soaked," He stopped, as he pushed you roughly, making you lay on the billiard table, as he grabbed your ankle with his arms, spreading them gently. Ignoring your panties, his ring finger dipped into your red, cavern, as a very tensed gasp escaped your lips.

A lingering sense of hunger is washing over your private parts, making you want more.You could feel his finger, after adjusting itself, started to plunge in- and out, slow, and steady. The pace quickens by time, making haunting, moanings ride out of you holded mouth.

"W-Wait,.. Fuck- Slow down!," You impatiently yelled, as your body trembles at his touch; you know he's just playin' and not even getting serious.

"Aventurine- Please,..!" You moaned his name, as a sticky, white, fluid, dripped from your feminity place, making his hand, all wet, while he gulped his throat, trying to contain his excitement.

"Call my name like that again, Please," He stopped, as he quickly picks you up, while then, dropping you to the couch, making your aching anal, felt so,..., painful.

"Just,.. please me right, Ave-...Ventu..-Rine,..!" Your words are stuttering, from the lack of breathe he gives you- his fingers enjoying 'emself a bit too much, overplayed.

"I love seeing you like this," He finally let go of his fingers whom was laying inside your clutching thighs, as he lowers his bottom- showing an awakened one below, as he laid you facing the ceiling.

The enormous size of him, makes you wonder- will it fits? it started to creep you out, and by reflex, you hands, started to reach for his hands.

"Shh- Do not worry, Princess; i'll do you right tonight,." He grab you reaching hands, as he gently, but steadily wrap it around his now shirtless back. You could feel his muscles, against your hands. Aeons, you looked so fragile beneath him, making him felt so, ... Protective, over you. Making him felt like he won't be able sharing you with anyone else.

Forcing him into you, you could feel the colliding against each skin, whom below is intertwining, as you could feel slowly, your eyes rolling to the back of your very-skull, atleast, You thought so.

Atfirst, the tempo he chosen is very slow, and gentle, as he wanted her to not felt it very hurtful, and to let her adjust to his size. But as times gone by, he started to neglect his self controls- as he let the young woman enjoys the delighting pleasured between the intense spasms as tranquil essences started to flow down her thigh- steamy, and translucent.

She could feel his rough thing, bulging inside of her, as he lowered his own head, giving her kisses, by the cheeks, forehead, and of course- lips. Calming her down slightly, as she almost reaches her climax,.

"I'm almost.,," You barely managed to groan those words out of your throat, as you tears up, while he suddenly stopped, before the moments.

"Be a good girl, and use your words," He still have times, to mock her. He knows, this is far way beyond her ego, especially pleading with someone. But everybody knows, he always bet what he wants. And especially, what else could you do, in situations like this, then begging him to finish yourself? Devouring you?

Words merely made it out your mouth- as gasps and spasms kept on interrupting your talkings- "Please, A- aven..tu- Rine,! d-do.. me- nggh-! right,..!" It came out worse than stutterings, as you could feel his breaths intensifies either way.

At final, he smiled, before his warm liquid filled the insides of you. You know this is very wrong- for him to came inside of you- but in situations like this.. you can't even manage to let out any vocal- non consonant alphabet, as your legs are also numb. The only thing you do, is let his muscular arms hug you, as his warm figure covers you on the couch.

"Nighty-night, Princess."

== My first languange is not english, so no comments ==

[amethysttribble]

“I do believe I am a very bad person,” Finrod said, and Celegorm sighed around the lip of the bottle.

“We were having fun, I thought we were having fun,” he groaned, stretching languidly over the arm of the couch. He and his ‘king’, the King of Nargothrond, were laying together, legs tangled together like a couple of youths, drinking wine. They’d been laughing, singing, naught but a second ago. Ah, but wine was a changeable drink.

“I was just thinking,” Finrod said, cradling his own bottle to his chest tenderly, “about the time Grandfather found us in the royal wine cellar, how scared we were that we were in awful trouble, how he smiled and said, ‘well? Won’t you pour me a drink?’ I loved him so much.”

“We all loved him,” Celegorm muttered bitterly and he tipped the drink back and drank until only droplets were coming to his tongue.

He tried not to think of Grandfather. Or the other grandfather. Or Mother. Or Father. Or-

“I wanted to rule something beautiful like he did,” Finrod was sighing, “Something glorious; powerful and intricate and built entirely in my image. Mine. All mine, in the palm of my hand, and then people would look at me like they looked at Grandfather. Someone beautiful, glorious. Worthy. Worthy of his name, not because I did what he did, but because I made something all my own. I wanted it. I wanted it so badly I spat on my father’s kind heart, and trampled over my cousins’ blood, and scorned our uncle, and… Turko, Grandfather never wanted us to come to this land.”

“‘Two sons at least thou hast to honor thy words’,” Celegorm said with a sneer. He let the bottle roll from his hands and stared at the ceiling, not daring to close his eyes and face the spinning. “I remember. Those words ruined my life.”

Those words spoke in jealousy by Fingolfin had seen Father banished and started this unending nightmare.

It always came back to the same question, stay or go.

Oh, but Celegorm wished he’d stayed.

“He would be disappointed in us now,” Finrod said, “If he caught us now. No drink for him but tears, to see us in this land, that wasn’t what he wanted. We did all this in his name, but it wasn’t want he wanted. What selfish children we are, always pilfering from his stores and caring nothing for how long that wine aged. Now we age it ourselves and it is vinegar. And yet I still want all the glitters. How foul is that?”

“Why are you telling me all this, Felagund?”

“My brothers are dead.”

And that was all there was to it.

“Right,” Celegorm grunted as he swung his feet to the floor and sat up. “I’m going to go throw-up, and I suggest you do the same before you vomit up anymore useless words.”

He swayed on his feet but managed to stay upright. He might have made it to the privy had Finrod not grabbed his hand as he passed. When Celegorm looked down, it wasn’t the king who looked back. It was the little cousin Tyelkormo knew, full of sunshine smiles and mischief, who he used to have such fun with; but now that boy’s face was blotchy with tears and sorrow.

They had been having fun. Weren’t they?

“This doesn’t end well, Turko.”

Yes, well, Celegorm had guessed that. Had felt it in the gnawing void in his chest that called and called and called and received no answer. It was shredding him, and in the open wounds crept in fear. Celegorm was so tired of being scared.

Finrod’s eyes did nothing to quell his fear, instead they inflamed the terror. Those eyes… Celegorm suspected this ended pourly, but Finrod’s eyes knew. An animal sort of fear wrapped around his throat, and Celegorm’s chest heaved, his heart hammered like he was naught but a rabbit caught in a snare.

He didn’t know what to do with the knowledge that dauntless, peerless, kingly Finrod was frightened, too.

And it was not quite the same expression on his little cousin’s face, but it bore a distant relationship to the nervous, startled look Finrod had shot him when Grandfather caught them drinking in the wine cellar. Turko, Turko, he asked, what do we do? Both times, Celegorm wanted to demand, how should I know?

He really wasn’t that much older.

And yet-

He meant to sink to his knees, but instead collapsed onto his ass heavily, and, ah, that was going to smart in the morning.

“Felagund,” he slurred, reaching up to take the bottle away and then to run his fingers through Finrod’s hair. “Shut up and go to sleep. When the night’s not fun anymore, that’s when you should go to bed. Isn’t that what I taught you? Go to sleep before you make mistakes you can’t take back.”

“Don’t go,” Finrod cried and Celegorm shushed him. He started to sing.

And, as Finrod’s eyes slipped shut and his quickened, guilty breathes evened out, if the words Celegorm moaned were the hymn they would sing to the doomed and dying animals…

Hopefully, they were both be too drunk to remember in the morning.

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 16)

Hi there, and welcome back to Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics! I'm sorry it's been so long between installments this time. I started a new job last Wednesday which I absolutely love and am so grateful for, but it's got me working more and longer days (but with much higher pay), so I have been exhausted. Just a heads up, I'm probably only going to manage these on a weekly basis for the foreseeable future unless my workload suddenly lessens for some reason (which I have been assured that it will not).

Thank you all so much for your continued support of this series. It means the world to me. As always, I hope you're all having a good a day as you can, if not a great one.

Smoochies and squeezies, my darlings!

List and links to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17

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Que Dis-Tu? by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) (G | 1/1 | 2,594)

“What, are you gonna tell me you know Russian next?!” Stiles demanded, flailing one arm, other hand still closed around the spine of his book.

“I do know Russian,” Derek confirmed, still looking confused.

Stiles dropped the book so he could flail both arms in the air. “Of course you do! Why wouldn’t you know Russian?!”

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Your Royal Assholeness by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) (T | 1/1 | 3,327)

The second he walked in, Derek growled loudly and was beside him in an instant, reaching out to lightly touch his neck.

“Who did this?”

“What the hell is going on?” Stiles hissed in response.

“Your majesty.”

Stiles turned when the woman spoke, positive he’d misheard, but she was on one knee with her head bowed, and the wolves who’d all followed had done the same.

“Your what?” Stiles demanded, shocked, turning back to Derek.

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You Have Reached... by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) (G | 1/1 | 5,074)

“Why did you listen to the voicemails?”

“I like hearing you talk,” Derek said.

There were many things Stiles had been expecting after asking that question. That answer hadn’t been one of them.

“Any time we ever spoke before, it was always about what next problem we were facing and needed to solve. The voicemails are just you... talking.”

“Oh.” Stiles had never considered that.

(SNYE - January 10th - Long Distance)

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In meeting his is born, In absence he has grown by lookingforatardis (T | 1/1 | 6,191)

The witch’s voice turned dark, powerful. Her head fell back as she chanted:

So it is written, so it becomes A debt for a debt A life for life, In the darkest of times With a mate by thy side In meeting he is born, in absence he has grown A son for a son, for the Highest Power, Her goddess the Moon draws balance once more With a love that endures. And so has been, and so it is, and so it will be.

- Or, A witch gives Derek a toddler after Stiles leaves Beacon Hills, and Derek definitely does not freak out about it and beg the Sheriff to call Stiles for help because he's his anchor (he definitely does)

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Choice by Omni (T | 1/1 | 8,613)

Derek knows what it feels like to not really have a choice, what it's like to be manipulated. He'd never take away someone's right to choose freely. The fear of even accidentally doing so is enough to hold him back from acting on his own feelings.

Stiles has never had a problem making his own choices, and fuck anyone who would try to tell him he can't.

(Or: Stiles gets bitten by a different alpha, but of course would prefer to have Derek as his alpha. And also just, you know, have Derek.)

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Wake Up Call by SylvieW (M | 3/3 | 10,084)

Derek has nightmares and now that Laura is gone there's no one to wake him up and comfort him.

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Yes is a World by jezziejay (M | 1/1 | 10,207)

When the nemeton casts a protection spell over Beacon Hills, Stiles can finally go to college. Derek thinks this might be a good thing.

In which Stiles falls in love and Derek learns a lot.

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Five Times Derek Heard Something He Wished He Hadn't, and the One Time He Did by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) (T | 1/1 | 14,841)

“This place is hell,” Derek decided. “This place is absolutely hell.”

How was it possible he’d gone so many years of his life without hearing anything nearly as over the top as he had just visiting Stiles at school? This had to be some kind of record for the most disgusting things he’d ever overheard.

--

(I mean really, the title says it all lol)

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Sigh No More series by elementalv (3 works | T-M | 16,472)

1. Sigh No More (M | 1/1 | 5,532) Scott respects Stiles’ decision not to take the bite right up until the day he doesn’t. That night, with the help of his father, Stiles leaves Beacon Hills for good. Warnings: See the Notes section at the end for warnings and possible triggers. The AO3 options don't quite cover what I need. 2. The Cave (T | 1/1 | 6,415) Chris has no idea how to salvage what was intended to be a diplomatic mission with an unknown alpha. 3. Winter Winds (T | 1/1 | 4,525) He hadn’t taken any particular pleasure in killing Peter for once and for all, though he was glad he’d thought to ask Deaton about what to do to make sure Peter couldn’t come back. Lydia wasn’t exactly thrilled with the countermeasures, but since it meant she wouldn’t have to raise him from the dead ever again, she dealt with it by making Scott pay in small ways and large. He accepts her treatment of him without comment, knowing that a lot of the mess the town is in could have been avoided if he hadn’t been such a dickhead all those years ago. And really, he thinks, as he’s patrolling near the Nemeton, dickhead doesn’t even cover what he did to Stiles.

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The Sound of Silence by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions) (E | 6/6 | 17,279)

Everyone is so sure Derek is dead, but Stiles can't accept it. Not when there are so many loose ends.

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doesn't weigh me down at all by kellifer_fic (T | 2/2 | 17,657)

"Your brother is cool. What happened to you?"

"Har, har, hilarious," Stiles says as Scott grabs him in a head lock and rubs the top of his head. "He's going to hold this one over me for ages," Stiles sighs after a few minutes of the sounds of just their feet shuffling through the undergrowth.

"Could've been worse," Scott says.

"I guess so."

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Children of the Wild Ones by bellefire (M | 2/2 | 18,081)

One turned corner was all it took—a single split second decision. A death. Stiles could never decide if that turn had been a wrong one or a right one.

In which Stiles is turned, gets a pack and takes a roadtrip to Mexico with people he used to not even like but are now somehow family, but first: murder.

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discretion's not what i need to sell series by marinbel (3 works | T | 18,492)

Told in three parts, in three perspectives.

1. discretion's not what i need to sell (T | 1/1 | 2,024) Stiles raises an eyebrow. “So am I not correct then that I saw you leaving Allison’s place this morning? From her bedroom window?” His eyes give Scott a once-over. “I’m sure the healthy flush is just from the run, and no other activities. And- oh, hey, is that hickey on your throat also from the run? I didn’t know that could happen.” Scott’s jaw locks. Fuck. Stiles shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Sorry, just curious. Since I thought you and Kira were still a thing, and all.” 2. one more confession (T | 1/1 | 7,395) He’s talking to someone on the phone. She hears him. “We’ll think of something. Don’t- hey, don’t worry about it. We’ll work it out. Okay? Okay. See you tomorrow, Babe.” The crack of light expands, Scott opening the door. He stops in his tracks when he catches Kira’s eyes blinking back at him. “Hey,” he says. “Hey,” Kira says back. “Who’s Babe?” “Hmm?” Scott goes, flipping the light off and coming back to bed, crawling under the covers and looping an arm around her waist. “You were on the phone with someone,” Kira says, like maybe saying it out loud will remind him of what he was just doing. “You said Babe. Who’s Babe?” . Alternatively, Kira finds out. 3. keep those tired eyes closed (T | 1/1 | 9,073) “You gotta let him go.” Derek watches him from the peripheral, dejected. He sees it just beyond his eyes, the ruminating and mind whirring and Derek says, “Hey. With me, breathe in.” He breathes in and Stiles follows along. “Breathe out,” they do so together, Derek saying on the exhale, “now let him go.” Stiles’ exhale is shakier but he gets through it. “I’m letting him go.” . Alternatively, Derek's trying his very best at being a supportive boyfriend.

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Falling Up by PalenDrome (nerherderette) (E | 1/1 | 18,522)

Of all the things Stiles imagined could happen, he never thought he’d end up packless.

*****

Derek picks up his coffee and drains it slowly. "My place is a twenty-minute drive from here. I could show you, if you'd like," he says once he finishes. His tone is studiedly casual, but Stiles knows what a big deal it is. It's an offer to re-establish a connection with a former pack member. To invite Stiles into the new sanctuary Derek created for himself.

Stiles looks at his empty cup. He thinks of the miles he's driven. Of the motels and hotels and cheap campsites he's crashed at, and tries to keep his desperation to have something familiar, of not feeling so goddamn lonely, from his voice.

"Yeah. I'd really like that," he says, and if his heartbeat does a little swoop, Derek's too polite to mention it.

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To Find You Again by nightlight9 (E | 1/1 | 23,788)

The man standing on his porch waiting for him is unmistakable even after six years. Though his hair has grown out longer and there’s a scraggly beard covering his once bare chin, the unexpected guest is undoubtably Stiles.

Derek swallows and tries to subtly catch a whiff of his scent. Then he swallows again when he smells nothing but the Colorado trees.

“Stiles?” His mouth is dry. "What are you doing here?”

Despite the bags under his eyes, Stiles’ smile is bright. “Hey, Derek. I-. It’s been a long time. Can I come in?”

That's all it takes. Derek opens the door.

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If These Ears Could Talk series by HappyJuicyfruit (11 works | G-M | 39,686)

Stiles is hard of hearing, that doesn’t stop him from running with wolves. Doesn’t stop him from dating one either.

1. Clueless (G | 1/1 | 4,748) After everything they’ve been through together, all Derek wants is for his pack to be connected with strong, thriving, pack bonds. And for the most part, its working. The pack is growing, healing, happy. He just needs to figure out why Stiles hates him so much. 2. Pack is Pack, No Matter How Far (T | 1/1 | 9,927) Derek tries to deal with his pack moving away for college. Stiles helps (a lot). 3. Come Light A Candle With Me (G | 1/1 | 1,804) Derek celebrates Hanukkah with Stiles. 4. Worrywolf (M | 1/1 | 5,470) After a few worrying text messages, Derek decides to go check on his boyfriend during midterm week. 5. Memories From You and From Me (G | 1/1 | 3,070) On the anniversary of his family's death, Derek tries to distance himself from the pack. Stiles doesn't let him. 6. It's My Party, I Can Yell If I Want To (G | 1/1 | 5,496) Derek has made a lot of mistakes in his life, and he has a lot of regrets. Currently, his biggest regret is forgetting his boyfriends birthday. 7. I Can Help With That (M | 1/1 | 3,277) “You can’t be the only hard of hearing person on the campus.” Stiles shrugged, “so?” “So, why don’t you make a club or something? You don’t really know anyone else hard of hearing, it could be really good.” “Did Derek Hale seriously just tell me to make a club?” 8. I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do (G | 1/1 | 2,340) 8 years. Degrees, Master degrees, vet school, law school... It took 8 years, but finally, the Hale pack was together again in Beacon Hills. 9. As The Years Go By (I Just Love You More) (G | 1/1 | 1,811) It started with Becca, but it did not end with her. Or, how Derek and Stiles end up with a house full of kids. 10. Baby, I Was Born This Way (G | 1/1 | 1,051) He knew Stiles like the back of his hand. He knew that this silence wasn’t him. This stillness was unnatural. He’d been married to the man for twenty years. He had 8 kids with him. Stiles was a force of pure energy, he was a fighter to his core. It couldn’t end like this. 11. Oh, To Grow Old With You (G | 1/1 | 692) Derek yawned, looking out at his bird feeder as he waited for the kettle to boil. He would go out and refill it after breakfast. Do a morning walk around their territory. It would be a while before Stiles woke up, insomnia kept him up late most nights. And Derek’s bad back woke him up early. Werewolf healing didn’t fix everything, when you were old. Or, a very fluffy retirement.

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No Time Like the Future by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) (T | 1/1 | 40,590)

It wasn’t until he was ten that the full explanation came to him, because every year when a group of kids turned ten, schools had a one-day course specifically about soulmates, what they meant, and why everyone had weird writing on their arms.

Derek remembered sitting in that all-day class, completely horrified, and absolutely devastated. The course leader made it sound like a good thing. Soulmates were the other half of your own being, they were the person you were supposed to love and cherish, who would understand every part of you, and all that other garbage nonsense. He was not here for this.

It wasn’t that Derek had any understanding of love—not romantic love, and certainly not at ten years old—but he read a lot of books and watched some shows and movies with his family, and love looked like something different in those environments. Love looked like a choice, like the meeting of people, and the getting to know them, and actively falling in love with a person because they were amazing and nice and just fit.

Soulmates didn’t sound like that.

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Nature Red In Tooth and Claw series by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) (4 works | T-E | 47,930)

1. Mockingbird Smile (E | 1/1 | 3,554) Kate has come to Beacon Hills to seduce Derek Hale and kill the Hale pack. Maybe she should have done some more research first. 2. Dirty Paws (T | 3/3 | 6,309) Every fairytale starts with a beginning. 3. In Our Town Of Halloween (E | 6/6 | 28,168) It's Halloween, the one night of the year the Hale wolves and their pack get to let it all hang out. Unfortunately for them, someone is on their trail and looking for revenge. What happens next will change everything. 4. Silver Bullet, Silver Arrow (E | 3/3 | 9,899) The Argents have come for vengeance. They're about to get what's coming for them.

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It Was a Wednesday by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) (M | 2/2 | 80,129)

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?”

Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping.

Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death.

“Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least.

“Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

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Pretty Little Wolf series by ItsMe_Basil (3 works | T-E | 88,628)

1. Pretty Little Wolf (E | 35/35 | 82,164 ) Derek has heard stories about the Spark -the kind of stories that would have his younger self cowering under the blankets. The kind of stories that had Derek stick close to the pack. But when Derek is in trouble, and the pack isnt around, Derek finds himself in the care of said Spark, and he finds out fairly quickly that he's not all he seems to be. Stiles, he finds out, isn't a villain at all. Derek's only heard one side of the story for four years, and now it's time for him to hear the other side from his mate. *-* "Pretty little wolf," he hummed, stepping closer and kneeling beside Derek. Even in his death fogged brain, he recognized the words spoken. The words that were tattooed along his hip bone. The man reached a hand out, long bony fingers brushing against Derek's jaw. That's when recognition dawned on him. He knew this boy -not personally, but he'd seen pictures. This was the Spark. The one Scott had warned him about since Derek had returned to Beacon Hills four years ago. His mate. "Fuck me," Derek gasped out, dropping his head on the step. "Let's get you better, first, shall we, Puppy?" The Spark hummed. 2. Pretty Little Wedding (M | 1/1| | 3,650) Its been two years since the Hale pack moved to Hood River, and Derek couldn't be happier with his life now. He has Stiles, his family, and a town that treats them like family. Its everything he could ever hope to have. Almost everything at least. 3. Pretty Little Niece (T | 1/1 | 2,814) Cora and Lydia have a baby, Stiles and Derek fight about having children of their own, and Stiles slowly warms up to being an uncle! Part 3 of the Pretty Little Wolf series! If you haven't read thd first I recommend you do so!! These are just little snippets into the Hale packs life after they leave Beacon Hills!

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[aspoonofsugar]

do you think the song out for love says something about Camilla and veggie and to veggies character arc

Hi!

Yes, it does. I want to talk about Vaggie in other metas too, so in this analysis I will focus on her relationship with Carmilla, since this is what you are mainly asking about.

Before I start, though, I am gonna link to you this meta by @hamliet, where she talks about the main message of the song:

You're gonna fight without gloves And when that push comes to shove Yeah, you just might rise above Long as you're out for love

If you love, you might rise above. So Vaggie, a fallen angel, regrows her wings by choosing love and protection over hate and revenge. The meaning is crystal clear. Love makes you worthy of Heaven. Just like in the finale Pentious ascends thanks to his selfless sacrifice.

This is the meaning of the song when it comes to theme and to the series as a whole.

At the same time it is not by chance this theme comes out so strongly in relation to Carmilla and Vaggie, as they are both tied to "love".

FAMILIAL LOVE AND ROMANTIC LOVE

Carmilla Carmine: So I, I'll be your keeper Do whatever it takes, I'll make the mistakes I'll keep you safe and keep this secret

Vaggie: So I, I'll be your armor Do whatever it takes, I'll make the mistakes I'll spend my life being your partner

Carmilla and Vaggie are set up as foils in episode 3, when they share the song Whatever It Takes. This ballad is a love song, but Carmilla and Vaggie express two different kinds of love:

Carmilla is singing to her daughters (familial)

Vaggie is singing to Charlie (romantic)

This is a pattern throughout the show:

There are two versions of More Than Anything - the first one is about a familial bond, whereas the second explores a romantic relationship

Sir Pentious gets redeemed after expressing his feelings for Cherri (romantic) and sacrificing himself for the Hotel Crew (familial)

So, Hazbin Hotel goes out of its way to celebrate all kinds of positive bonds: platonic, romantic, familial. All of these relationships are enriching and help people grow. Vaggie and Carmilla are two characters linked to this very concept, as they are ready to fight and suffer for their loved ones:

Both: Whatever we go through I know I~ (Carmilla: I'll be your keeper) (Vaggie: I'll be your armor) Whatever it takes (Carmilla: I'll make the mistakes) (Vaggie: I'll make the mistakes) Whatever it takes

They are both warriors, but fight for love. They are out for love. However, Whatever It Takes also highlights a major difference between them.

TRUST AND SELF-EXPRESSION

Scrambled Eggs is an episode about trust. This is true especially for Carmilla and Vaggie, who have opposite secrets:

Carmilla killed an angel

Vaggie is an angel

Throughout the song the conflict between Heaven and Hell is mentioned by Carmilla and is present in subtext in Vaggie's stanza, as she looks at her old home.

Both are struggling under the pressure of these truths and are confronted by a loved one:

Zestial: Carmilla, what troubles thou? Losing thy composure is unlike thee. Carmilla Carmine: It's nothing, Zestial, really.

Charlie: Vaggie, don't say that! You do so much! It's- Vaggie: I'm sorry. I'd… I'd like to be alone for a minute.

Carmilla chooses to open up to Zestial and tells her daughters how much she loves them. Vaggie instead closes herself off and refuses Charlie's attempt to talk. She is singing to Charlie, but Charlie herself isn't present to hear her out. Even when it comes to their respective secrets...

Carmilla says hers in the song:

Carmilla Carmine: I always thought that I would keep blood off my face But when that thing attacked, I had to act To cross that line and keep them safe But if anyone knew, then all of Hell would rise to war And who's to say who'd survive the fray? I might lose the ones that I was killing for

Vaggie only alludes to hers in the lyrics:

Vaggie: When I saw your face You made me feel like a stranger in a brand new place And it felt so good to be understood But there's so much I wished that I could say

Vaggie meets Charlie and feels like a stranger in a brand new place because at the time she is in fact a stranger in a brand new place:

So, Carmilla is able to express herself, while Vaggie can't. This isn't surprising, as Vaggie is basically a child-soldier:

Adam: Do you really think I wouldn't recognize one of my top girls just cuz you're out of uniform? You were on the front lines, I wouldn't forget a bad bitch like you. It's why I named you after the best thing ever. Vaggie.

She is brought up in Adam's army and is taught that love is conditional. She is one of Adam's best fighters, but the moment she makes a "mistake", she is discarded:

Lute: Sinful filth like you has no place in heaven.

This is why she feels Charlie will love her only if she is useful and never messes up:

Vaggie: I'm supposed to make your dreams a reality. I'm supposed to protect you. I'm supposed to never fail you. (...) If I can't help you, what's the point of me?

This fear of abandonement and rejection is also at the root of Vaggie's inability to tell Charlie about her past:

Adam: I guess I'll just tell little miss butterflies and rainbows that she's been fucking someone who's killed-- thousands of her people. I'm sure your relationship will be fine.

Still, despite her communication issues, Vaggie's heart is in the right place:

Rosie: If there's anything I've learned, it's that words are cheap, but actions, they speak the truth. So, what have her actions said?

Vaggie is a person of few words. This may be why she has less songs than other characters. Still, she lets her actions speak, so she is given a ballet lesson by a very talented ballerina:

DANCING THROUGH LIFE

Carmilla has a ballet motif, as her outfit resembles that of a ballerina and her two daughters are called after protagonists of famous ballets. So, it is only natural that she teaches Vaggie a new way to fight through dancing.

Vaggie was taught to fight with hate and anger. So, her fighting style is aggressive and focused on attack:

Carmilla: You leave yourself open with every swing. You fight like someone unafraid of harm, and this is what you'll take advantage of. Angels wield no shields, little armor and fight with reckless abandon.

Carmilla tells her she should instead dedicate herself to love, protection and defense:

Fuel yourself with the fear of losin' That somebody who's your reason to live Harnеss your heart and you can't help choosin' To fight with all you can give

Vaggie shouldn't just fight. She should dance:

She shouldn't hate:

I see you're driven by your detestation Your every step is stoked with animus You need a different type of motivation Or there's no way that you can handle this

She should love:

Out for love~ Love~ Think of who you care about Protect them and be out For love~ Love~

Vaggie listens to these teachings and applies them in the finale, in two ways.

She sings her love for Charlie in More Than Anything Reprise:

Vaggie: You've already done so much So many lives you've changed So many souls you've touched And in the end, if it's only me you've saved Charlie and Vaggie: There's something that I've been dying to say More than anything, more than anything Need you to know I love you more than anything More than anything

As stated above, Vaggie doesn't sing much in season 1, but in the final episode she gets a short moment to express how she feels to Charlie. This is in contrast to Whatever It Takes, where she sends her girlfriend away before she starts singing. More Than Anything Reprise shows Vaggie's progress when it comes to self-expression.

She follows Carmilla's advices while fighting

On a practical level she covers herself up in a battle suit inspired by Carmilla's outfit, she wears a harness on her heart and ties her hair:

Vaggie: I'm not used to fighting with long hair.

On a thematic level she reveals her wings and defeats Lute, when the exorcist threathens Charlie:

Lute: So, I'll spare you the pain of seeing your demon bitch die.

And Vaggie eventually chooses not to kill the other angel:

Lute: Do it, then. Correct your mistake. Vaggie: Seriously, you're pathetic, you know that? Ready to die rather than accepting mercy? No, live. Live knowing that you only do because I let you, the failure.

Vaggie is asked to choose between her hate for Lute and her love for Charlie and she chooses the latter. This is why the scene ends with Vaggie leaving Lute and flying to help Charlie. She is given the chance to get revenge, but doesn't take it. She is given the chance to hate, but she loves:

I know you're thirstin' for vengeance, Vaggie You're out for blood But you'll only stand a chance if you're out for love

This is important in two ways:

1- The macrochosm - Vaggie refuses Lute's ideals and defies her expectations. For Lute it is normal that Vaggie is going to kill her. After all, Vaggie is discarded because she shows pity to a sinner, which makes her weak. Still, Vaggie bests Lute in a fight, so she is now strong. It is only obvious then that Vaggie has snapped out of her foolery and is ready to kill. She can correct her mistake. She did not kill the cannibal child, but she can kill Lute. This is how Lute understands the world. And yet, Vaggie doesn't finish her off. By doing so, she moves away from the mentality Lute embodies. She is strong precisely because she can show mercy. Adam is wrong. Lute is wrong. Vaggie isn't out for blood. She is out for love.

2- The microchosm - Vaggie sparing Lute isn't just the morally correct choice, but it is Vaggie's first step into healing:

Husk: (To Vaggie) This one. Judges everyone and everything because she hates herself.

Vaggie hates everyone because she deep down hates herself. She despises Heaven and Angels because she can't forgive her involvement in the exterminations. So, Vaggie hurting Lute would be Vaggie hurting her past self. As a matter of fact Lute is Vaggie's dark mirror. She is who Vaggie might become if she gives in to hate.

A person who hurts others:

And herself:

Vaggie instead has to value her life, so that she can protect others. She must save others and heal herself. Only in this way she can be by Charlie's side. She needs to let go of self-hate to embrace a healthy love. Vaggie's arc is her learning self-love through her bond with the Princess of Hell.

Obviously this journey is just at the beginning and our Angel of Love has a long way to go. How will her story contiue? We can make some hypothesis, which once again stem from Vaggie and Carmilla's foiling. This is just a theory, so take it with a grain of salt, but Vaggie may have a secondary personal antagonist in Hell:

Why is that so? It's because Scrambled Eggs sets Vaggie and Velvette up as foils.

RESPECT(LESS)

Velvette and Vaggie are opposites in their interactions with Carmilla. Both girls are younger than the Dancer Overlord and could learn a lot from her. However, Velvette refuses any kind of mentorship and shows no respect:

Velvette: Mad that I acted respectless? Well, it's cause no one could respect this! You're long past trending! Sorry, bae, but I ain't swiping right! You've lost your relevance-

Vaggie instead comes to respect Carmilla and learns from her:

At the same time, both Velvette and Vaggie confront Carmilla about her secret:

Velvette: 'Oops!' Did I strike a nerve? 'Cause when I brought out the angel's head, couldn't help but observe, that your wrinkled face was turning red! And why are you avoiding war? That's what the guns you sell are for! Thanks to my being respectless, one thing I'm starting to suspect is You know why this angel's headless! Do you have a disclosure?

Vaggie: I know what you did on extermination day. We can talk about it inside, or I can yell about it out here.

They call Carmilla out on killing an angel and keeping this knowledge to herself. Not only that, but both argue that it is necessary to fight back to stop the exterminations:

Velvette: We found it during Extermination day. If these Holy Rollers can be killed, the game has changed. We can take the fight to them. The boys and I have come up with a full assault plan!

Vaggie: Miss Carmine, I'm here on appointment from the princess to enlist your aid in the defense of hell from the angelic extermination. We know an angel fell at your hands and we need to know how.

Still, Velvette fails to get through to Carmilla because she uses war rhetoric:

Velvette: Oh, I get it. So Grandpa is too pussy to fight, so I guess there's no point, right? Oh, what's the matter, Fossil? Too senile to make a real power grab...

She speaks of violence, strength and power.

Vaggie instead convinces Carmilla to help because she mentions the necessity to fight for loved ones:

Vaggie: We didn't pick this fight, but it's here now. And they aren't going to stop with us. You didn't see the look on their leader's face. With us out of the way, it's only a matter of time before they come for the rest of you. They won't stop until all of hell is wiped out, so you can help us make a stand here together, or you can stand alone tomorrow.

She speaks of protection, love and comraderie.

In short, Vaggie succeeds where Velvette fails. Of course, this is true for Charlie's group in general when it comes to the Vees:

Vox: My dear people! We at VoxTek Enterprises have always been at the forefront of innovation. And now, with this new oncoming threat, we are shifting our focus, to your protection. We are pleased to announce VoxTek Angelic Security is coming soon! Trust us, with YOUR safety.

Katie Killjoy: Breaking news - Extermination day is cancelled! Charlie Morningstar managed to fend off the angelic attack with more than just nice words.

The Vees make big declarations of how they are gonna protect the people of Hell, but in the end it is Charlie and her friends who fight for the sinners.

When it comes to Vaggie and Velvette specifically, it is going to be interesting if their foiling is expanded. If so, then I guess Velvette is gonna help Vaggie mature a little bit more, so that when our ex exorcist faces Lute (her nemesis) again, she is gonna be ready for it.

[bones4thecats]

What If They Had A Spider-Man! S/O

Characters: Angel Dust and Zestial (separate) Inspired By: These cute fanart pieces!!! (PsychicPains / lilminette / VisionsK. / TheAstawolf) and Chasm Spider-Man A/N: This was so much fun to write! Make sure to catch my Q&A here in a little bit! Btw, when I imagine the Reader drinking tea from a can in Zestial's, I could see them digging their mandibles into the can's side and drinking it like that. I just think I'd be funny. ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: SWEARING, mentions of attempted assault, threatening, physical harm, and the Reader being basically insane ⚠️

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Angel Dust ═════════════════════════════╝

💊 Angel is a spider demon himself, so when you popped up one day causing trouble for multiple members of Hell, he found a quick connection with you

💊 Of course he started flirting with you when you first spoke, this is Angel Dust we're talking about!

"So, whatcha up to later tonight, Webslinger? How about coming to my room and using them energetic-webs for something a little more fun?~"

💊 But, after many, and I mean many failed attempts at getting into your pants, Angel Dust began to talk to you. He didn't reveal anything to detailed about himself, but you both would just sit down and talk about yourselves and hobbies like normal friends

💊 When you guys actually became a couple, you were fiercely defensive of him. One time, you saw some random loan shark try to touch Angel without his consent -which you knew he hated- and you shot your webs at his arm, pinning it to a nearby wall

"You fucking asshole! What the hell gives?!" The shark-demon yelled, making you tilt your forehead, since you couldn't show your true expressions through your mask.

"That's a mere strike one, loan shark. If I ever, and I mean ever see you try touching Angel again," you said, grabbing the sinner's free arm and twisting it painfully, "I will find you. And believe me, you don't wanna know what happens when I find my prey."

💊 Angel was shocked at how dangerous yet kind you were. A moment before you were twisting a guy's arm and threatening him with a very painful death that only he could imagine, and the next you were asking if the spider sinner wanted to be swung back to his place at the Hazbin Hotel

💊 Like I mentioned earlier, Angel Dust does connect with you well because you both are spider demons. He liked it when you would take off your mask in private and allow him to let his top pair of hands mess with your mandibles while his bottom pair messed around with your hands

💊 You have made him feel more safe than he ever has since he landed in Hell

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Zestial ════════════════════════════════╝

🕷️ As a new troublesome Overlord who died back in the early 2000s, you had immediately landed yourself getting into issues around your new area

🕷️ When Zestial first met you, he treated you very chivalrously. He had bowed gently to you an introduced himself before you chuckled and did the same back to him, finding it funny in your own way

🕷️ He liked watching you during meetings. You would sit down beside him in your own web-made hammock and observed the others argue while drinking your own cup of tea (like the tea you would buy in cans)

🕷️ The day Velvette began offending Zestial was the one you merely shot a load of web over her mouth and began to laugh as she struggled to get it off of her face

"What, Velvette? Struggling to run your mouth even more than normal? How sad."

🕷️ Your current fiance smiled and chuckled lightly at how you then webbed the youngest Overlord up and knock her down onto the table, and how you crawled on the ceiling before hanging upside down and kissed Zestial's forehead with your mandibles

"Y/n, doth alloweth velvette's that from which we speak free from the entanglement of thy web." He said, laying his teacup down on the saucer.

🕷️ Sighing over-dramatically, you crawled over to Velvette's chair and tore the webbing off painfully, making her scream in pain and have a slightly noticeable amount of redness from the web

"You goddamn grandfather-fucker! What the hell is wrong with you?!" She yelled bitchily.

"You better shut your mouth or else this webbing may end up somewhere you'll have to soak to get it off without tearing your organs outside." You then shrugged, your face going from a cold and bloodthirsty one to a cheery and happy one. "Okay?"

🕷️ Velvette nodded fearfully as you chuckled and threw the now worn-out webbing into a nearby trash can before swinging back into your hammock and laying your head down while you messed with your phone

"Anon, shalt we continueth this meeting?"

(Y/n, doth alloweth velvette's that from which we speak free from the entanglement of thy web -> Y/N, do let Velvette's mouth free from the entanglement of your web. / Anon, shalt we continueth this meeting -> Now, shall we continue this meeting.)

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor, Family Matters- pt 2

Summary: the procedure, and the aftermath.

Part 1.

*full disclosure i wrote most of this hammered, like absolutely obliterated, so it is entirely unedited but. i hope u still love her*

WC: ~2.8k

“You know we can’t make a baby of our own, right?” Melissa chuckles as you practically pounce on her once you’re parked in your driveway. “That we are indeed lacking a… , and Ellie is inside probably waiting for us to come in and cuddle her.”

You just continue to kiss her hungrily, wherever you can.

“Babe,” your wife hums. “Hun. We- we have to go inside.”

You groan but right yourself as you climb off of her. “Once she’s in bed tonight.”

“Once she’s in bed,” the redhead agrees softly. She kisses you passionately, just once, before climbing out of the car. She makes her way to your side and opens the door for you. The two of you enter the house quietly, and you can hear ‘Inside Out’ playing from your living room. Melissa kicks off her shoes, as do you, before making your way into the house.

The sight before you makes your heart swell. Gerald has his arm around his own wife while Barbara holds your daughter tight in her lap. Ellie is on the verge of sleep as she leans into Barb’s warmth, but her eyes light up when she sees you.

“Hey, Ellie girl,” you say softly as you make your way over to the couch. Melissa follows and takes a seat next to her work wife.

“Were you good for Auntie Barb?” your wife asks as she brushes a few stray hairs out of the girl’s face.

Your daughter hums softly and reaches for you both. “Moms.”

“Someone’s tired,” you chuckle quietly as you take your little girl into your arms and press a few kisses to her face.

“El was perfect as always,” Barbara states. “We had a wonderful dinner before heading down to the park. She was showing us her gymnastics and dance before we decided to come home and watch a movie.”

“That sounds like such a nice night,” you smile. Ellie nods into your neck.

“How was dinner?” the kindergarten teacher asks, a glimmer in her eyes. She knows what Melissa was presenting you with tonight. 

You look at wife with such love in your eyes. “It was perfect.”

Melissa just gives you the same look as she begins to rub slow circles on Ellie’s back. “Dinner with my beautiful wife is always perfect.”

“Your conversation went well?” Barb presses quietly.

“Yes,” the two of you sigh at the same time.

“I’m going to take our little girl up,” you mumble against hair that matches your own. “But feel free to stay for a glass of wine. I’ll be back down in five.”

You whisk Ellie up the steps and tuck her into bed, kissing her forehead as she reaches for one of the many stuffed animals that lays on her bed. You watch her for a few seconds before flicking on her favorite night light and closing the door.

You expect the three adults to be sitting on the couch with glasses of wine, but instead they’re in the kitchen. You make your way in with soft eyes as you see your wife with a bottle hand.

Melissa is just about to pop a bottle of champagne and is telling the Howards how dinner went.

“Does Ellie know?” you ask your wife. You know she tends to run things by the younger girl before approaching you about family decisions like this.

Melissa shakes her head. “I figured we shouldn’t get her hopes up… in case it doesn’t

end up happening.”

“It will,” Gerald states with certainty. “Barbara and I will pray over the two of you, and god will give you another sweet soul to love and cherish for the rest of your days.”

Your wife smiles as she pops the cork and pours the bubbly into four champagne flutes. 

“Enjoy this while you can,” the redhead teases.

You roll your eyes playfully but nod as you kiss her cheek. “Oh, I will. And then for the time that I am carrying our child, I will be forcing you to drink the things that I like so I can live vicariously through you.”

The drinks are passed out, and then there is a small toast and clinking of glasses. Barbara bows her head and prays quickly, and then she smiles. “I just know the lord will give you a beautiful and healthy little babe.”

Melissa just chuckles as she raises a brow at you. “Yeah?”

“You’ll be drinking seltzers for days,” you shrug.

After a few months of monitoring your health and keeping track of your cycle a bit more closely, the day that you go for your first treatment, you once again have Barbara and her husband look after your little girl. She’s a little confused as to why the kindergarten teacher is taking her home after a day of school and not the two of you, but she doesn’t really question it. She’s just excited that she gets to spend time with one of her favorite aunties.

“We’ll come pick you up at Auntie Barb’s,” you promise your daughter as she heads off to her own classroom that morning. “Be good, yes?”

“I always am, Momma!” Ellie tosses over her shoulder as she exits. 

She stops into Melissa’s room on the way down. “Have a good day, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart,” your wife smiles softly. “Now get to class before I have to call your teacher again and tell her you’re on your way.”

“I’m never late,” the fifth grader giggles.

“It’s never marked as late because Momma or I always call your teacher to let her know you’re on your way.” Green eyes are rolled playfully. “Now get outta here and upstairs.”

“Yes, Sir Mom,” Ellie cheekily turns back around to mock salute her mother. Then she runs off giggling.

The day passes slowly, and you’re not exactly thrilled at how slowly the day seems to go by. But finally, you’re standing outside with Melissa during dismissal, Ellie bounces up to both of you and happily chats your ear off about her day in fifth grade, and then you’re dropping her at Barb’s classroom door.

“We should be able to pick her up by six,” your wife tells her best friend.

The kindergarten teacher just waves you off. “The two of you should take your time. Have dinner.”

Walking into the doctor’s office, Melissa holds your hand and squeezes it as a silent reminder that she is going to be here for you through it all. The procedure is done, you lay there for about half an hour, and then you’re able to head out.

“Do you think it worked?”

“Barb is a straight line to Jesus,” your wife chuckles softly. “If it didn’t, you know that woman will be having a word with God himself. And then, we’ll just keep trying.”

“You would do that?” you ask quietly as you begin to walk hand in hand down the street.

“Of course.” She pulls you in close, wrapping an arm around your waist as you shuffle away from the office. “But for now, let’s just have a nice dinner and try to relax. The doc said low stress, and I intend on keeping you as stress-free as possible.”

“You’ll have a glass of wine for me at dinner?” you chuckle.

Your wife rolls her eyes but nods. “If that’s what you want.”

Two weeks later, Melissa hands you a pregnancy test. With a nervous glance, you head into the bathroom.

You pee on the stick, and then you sit there in absolute silence as you pray that the word ‘positive’ will be staring back at you in five minutes. Melissa keeps your daughter occupied while you sit on the toilet in a puddle of your own sweat and anxiety.

You come out of the bathroom with the stick in your hand, shaking slightly.

“El, can you go pull on your shoes so we can head to the park?” you ask your daughter gently, and the tone in your voice doesn’t tell your wife what the result of the test was.

“We’re going to the park?” your little girl’s eyes light up.

You chuckle softly. “Just like we do almost everyday that we can. Go on now.”

Ellie runs off, and almost immediately Melissa’s hands are in your sweatshirt pocket. She pulls out the test and glances at it. The word negative is staring back at the two of you, and your heart sinks just as it did when your first saw that one word printed so clearly on the digital test.

“It- it didn’t work,” you whisper softly as you look down at your feet. “I’m sorry.”

Warm arms are around your waist. “You have nothing to apologize for at all, mi amore. We’ll try again soon, and we’ll do everything that we can to increase the chances.”

You shrug. “What if it just wasn’t meant to be? I mean… Ellie was a happy accident.”

“We’ll get there,” your wife promises you softly as she leans in to kiss you. “We will.”

You go to respond, but Ellie’s voice floats into the living room. “Moms? Are you coming?”

“We’re coming, lovey,” you call back as evenly as you can. You shove the test back into your pocket. “C’mon. We can’t forget about that little gift from God we have waiting for us.”

That night, Ellie curls up in bed with you, exhausted from running around with her sweet friends at the park. She falls asleep rather quickly, but your mind is racing. Eventually, your wife begins to sing a soft tune in Italian that lulls you to sleep.

When you wake, your daughter is still holding onto you tightly as she sleeps nearly on top of you. Peeling your eyes open, you see that Melissa isn’t next to you. Sundays are days that she usually wakes early and heads to church, and you suppose this time is no different.

Your wife is nearly in tears as she pulls into the parking lot, only to be met with Barbara Howard.

“Melissa!” the kindergarten teacher strides up to the car. “Where’s Ellie with you this morning?”

“I decided to let her sleep in with Y/N,” Melissa mutters quietly. “Y/N needs her little girl right now.”

“And why would that be?” Barb asks.

The redhead looks up to her friend. “The uh, it didn’t work. She ain’t pregnant.”

The devout Christian’s face drops, as does Gerald’s. “She isn’t?”

The redhead just shakes her head. “I came here… to pray.”

Barbara grabs her best friend’s hand and leads her to the back pew. Silently, the three of them bow their heads and pray. They pray for a beautiful life to join the Schemmenti family in the next year. They pray that you will be healthy throughout, and that whatever sweet soul you bring into this world is happy, healthy, and safe. They pray that it doesn’t take too long, because they know that you can become doubtful and insecure. They sit through the sermon, finding peace in what the priest has to say, before they head out.

“Would you care to join us for brunch?” Gerald offers.

But Melissa just shakes her head. “I should probably just head home. Make sure that Ellie and Y/N are doing okay.”

The two of you throw yourselves into being the best parents that you can be for Ellie as a distraction from the failed attempt. If the lord hasn’t gifted you with a baby yet, you might as well be the best mothers that you can be for the little girl that you’re already so blessed to have. 

That is… until two weeks later, when you wake up incredibly nauseated and dizzy on a Saturday- the day that you usually take Ellie out for breakfast, spend the day soaking up the sun at the park, and then Melissa cooks out if it’s a nice enough day.

You think that the spell has passed when it suddenly hits you again, and you bolt to the bathroom.

You’re only in there for about thirty seconds before you feel your wife’s hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles.

With a heavy sigh, once you feel that you’re finished, you flush the toilet and lean back against Melissa.

“That was awful,” you groan.

The redhead just hums and reaches under the sink to grab the mouthwash. She pours a bit in the lid for you to swig.

“I hate throwing up.”

“Hopefully it’s just a quick bug that gets out of your system quickly,” Melissa tells you softly. She kisses your temple. “C’mon, hun. Back to bed for you.”

“But El-”

“Can hang with me today while you rest,” your wife tells you pointedly.

Grumbling about how you’re fine, you stumble your way back into your bedroom and curl up under the blankets, the dizziness still present. Melissa gently lays back down next to you. Her warm arms wrap you up, and you feel her press a quick kiss to the nape of your neck.

You must fall asleep, because the next time you open your eyes, the house is still. Your wife must’ve taken Ellie down to the park. Thank God your nausea has subsided, and you head back into the bathroom.

As you open the drawer to grab your hairbrush, you see one of the unused pregnancy tests. You pull it out and hold it for a few seconds before all but ripping the test from the packaging. 

Five minutes later, the word in big bold letters is staring back at you. Pregnant. In shock, you reach for another. That one also screams the word at you- in less than the five minutes that it’s supposed to.

Y-you’re pregnant. You aren’t sick with a stomach bug. You’re carrying a child. Tears of joy begin to pour down your face as you hold those two sticks.

Melissa. You have to tell Melissa.

But she’s out with Ellie. Immediately, you reach for your phone and dial her number.

“Babe?” she picks up on the second ring. “How are you feelin’ hun?”

“I need you to come home,” you rush out. “Please.”

Melissa stammers out a few syllables before sighing. “Yeah, okay. I’m just gonna drop El with Nonna, and then I’ll-”

“Why is she going to Nonna’s?”

“She called me while we were walking down to the park, and I mentioned you being sick. She said she would whip up something for you and take our girl for the night so I can take care of you.”

“Okay, okay,” you hurry out. “Just… be quick about it, please?”

“Are you really not feeling well?”

“I need my wife, dammit!”

About ten minutes later, you hear the two enter the house. Melissa tells Ellie to pack her bag quickly while she checks on you. You’re back in bed, watching some trash television as you scroll through Amazon to start looking at items you may need for the baby.

She presses a soft kiss to your head as she sets down a mug of peppermint tea for you. “How’re you feelin’, mi amore?”

You just shrug your shoulders as you close out of the shopping app. It takes everything in you to not tell her right now.

“El is packing a bag now, and then I’ll be back to take care of my sickly wife.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask softly as you lean into her touch gently.

“I ask myself that same question about you and Ellie girl every damn day.”

The two head out not much later, and then Melissa is back. She announces her entrance as she kicks her shoes off in the foyer, and then she calls to you that she’s just going to put down the pot of soup that Nonna had made for you.

You leap out of bed, grab the tests, and rush out into the kitchen. Your wife hears you before she sees you, and you all but jump into her arms.

“I see someone is feelin’-” You shove the tests into her hands as soon as she’s put the crockpot on the counter. Her eyes go wide as she looks at them both, and then they fill with tears, much like yours had.

“So, you don’t-”

“I’ve never been so happy to be throwing up!” you giggle.

“Baby, are you- are you serious?” Melissa’s eyes sparkle with happy tears as she looks to you.

“The proof is in the pudding!” you tell her as you wrap your arms around her neck.

She kisses you soundly before pulling back just slightly and wiping away the stray tears that have escaped.

“I’m going to be a mother,” she whispers, and her voice breaks just slightly as her hands wander down to your still flat stomach.

“You already are,” you correct her gently. “To our sweet Ellie girl, and now to this beautiful little baby that will be joining us.”

TAGS: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo

[sporadicthingcollection]

Smash or Pass: Part 3/4 (LA!Buggy the Clown x Reader)

Summary: It's the last stop before the Grand Line and you slink away for a quiet evening. The universe, however, decides to clown on you. Sequel to Kiss, Marry, Kill. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: 🌶 Explicit! 🌶 Warnings: PiV sex, improper use of Devil Fruit powers. Word Count: ~2.9k.

A/N: 🗣️ 🗣️ HARLEQUIN FORNICATORS COME AQUIRE THY FRUIT-DERIVED LIQUID 🗣️ 🗣️

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PART 3: In which an understanding is reached, a Devil Fruit is misused, and a promise is kept.

Buggy springs upwards and throws his arms around you, pulling you atop him. He kisses you like a man dying, quick and desperate and full of little whispers. Curses and prayers and your own name all in the same breath, dancing around your tongues.

What choice do you have but to kiss back? You breathe when you can, but he must be hellbent on asphyxiating you, because he allows barely a moment to pass before pulling you back in.

You love it.

You finally put a hand on his chest and force him down as you pull away. He whines like a kicked puppy, eyes just as big.

“Holy shit, are you desperate,” you utter.

Buggy stares at you with those pleading eyes. Wide, shining, rolling rivers. “Join my crew,” he says.

You almost sober up right then and there. He tries to pull you back down and you have to hold yourself back with both hands. “You're still on that?”

"How could I not be?" He says it like it’s a casual good morning greeting.

What's with this guy? “You barely know me! I cut your tongue out, I humiliated you, I said mean shit about your—!”

He yanks you back into kissing him, but a hand goes to your ass this time. Squeezing, groping, stroking. “Knew I wanted you -- the moment -- I saw you -- under the spotlight.”

It’s really hard not to kiss back and you are a weak, weak woman. “You tried -- to kill me -- and my friends -- right before -- and right after.”

He pulls away to kiss your jaw, your cheek, all the way up to your ear. “We were all young and stupid then.”

“That was two weeks ago.”

“Exactly.” He pulls you flush against him before returning to your mouth. What a nice fat tongue he’s got. “Been thinking about you every day since.”

Well, that’s something you have in common. “Thinking about what?”

“Your laugh, your eyes, your lips...” His cock pokes you in the thighs. He moans, long and low, and presses his mouth to your ear. “Your cunt that I just know is dripping.”

Well, it wasn't before, but it is now. Time to give up the ghost. “Been thinking about you too.”

He's the one to pull away this time, eyes wide. “Really?”

You nod. "Remember what you said to me at Arlong Park?"

“I say a lot of things. I like the sound of my own voice.”

You remember. It echoes in your ears in the daytime and haunts your dreams all through the night. It lodges itself between your legs and burrows upwards, pulse by pulse, stroke by stroke, until it erupts from your mouth and finally grants you sweet relief.

It makes you shudder even now. “You said if I joined your crew…” You press your lips to his ear. “You’d screw me to the wall every night and eat my cunt like a wild dog every morning.”

His breath quickens. He swallows. The corner of his mouth twitches up. "One of my more inspired turns of phrase."

“Oh, absolutely." You grin wickedly. “But I understand if you just liked the sound of your own voice. You probably can’t do it.”

Hook baited. Let’s see if he bites.

A low, low growl leaves his throat. The next thing you know, the world is spinning. A pair of strong arms lift you up and off the bed — just arms. No hands. They pin you to the wall.

You shriek in surprise, only for a forearm to clap over your mouth. The other slides up the hem of your shirt and yanks it up and over your head, blinding you.

“Can’t do it, huh?” You hear the jangle of a belt buckle, the buzz of a zipper, and the thud of trousers hitting the floor. “The hell I can’t!”

The shirt finally pops off your head, and you—

Oh. Hello.

Buggy’s naked.

He’s got his back to you as he puts his hair up into a ponytail with disembodied hands. And what a back it is. Broad. Smooth. Muscle ripples with every movement, no matter how slight.

He bends down and dear sweet lord, what an ass. You’ve seen a lot of asses in your day and this one is damn good. You want to dig your nails into it. Slap it. Feel it jiggle. Grip it tight.

Your own hands go to your waistband. You’ve never gotten that zipper down faster.

“You’re gonna eat those words,” he spits. His hands dig around in his trouser pockets.

You don’t hear him. You’re too preoccupied with getting your bra off without seeing the hooks and trying to use telepathy to get him to just turn around already.

He straightens up and surveys the floor, his back still to you. "Oh, where the hell...?"

Fuck’s sake. You slip your panties off and snap the elastic at him. “Buggy!” you bark. 

They hit his back and he turns at the waist to glower at you. You can barely make out the tangle on his pubic mound. “What— oh.” His eyes sweep up and down your body like the spotlights he craves. His mouth drops open. “Oh.”

You’re flattered. You really are. “Will you just get over here and screw me already?!”

Finally, finally, finally he turns around.

You’ve seen longer at full mast. In fact, it might be on the shorter side. But… could you even make a fist around that thing? And the flare of the head… There’s a non-zero chance it might not fit. Oh boy.

Bright red blooms across his cheeks and his throat bobs as he swallows. His wayward limbs reattach themselves — hands to arms, arms to shoulders — but he holds them stiffly. “You’re…”

“I'm hot shit, I know.” His cock bobs and your pussy twitches. You notice the little foil packet in his hands. “Wait, you’re gonna get that over that?”

He stares a moment longer, then gives a little shake. “Unless you wanna go without?”

That sounds amazing, actually. Been awhile since you got done raw. But not even you are crazy enough to risk that.

Unless you are. Are you? No, not today. You shake your head.

He grabs a corner with his teeth and rips it open. You watch as he rolls the rubber down his cock. Or tries to, anyways. He tries the wrong side first and has to turn it around, but he does get it on. Barely. It looks tight.

“Might need to go up a size,” you mutter.

He flushes a brilliant red, but doesn’t say anything as he approaches you. His cock quivers with every step like it can barely support its own weight.

He swallows. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked nervous. He touches your breast, dragging his fingertips along the dip, across your areola, and along the curve of the bottom. “God damn.”

Again. You’re flattered. But there’s more important business to deal with. “Buggy,” you say firmly, “either quit talking and fuck me like a man or don’t fuck me at all.”

Something seems to click. His gaze hardens and he closes the distance between you. He presses his hard, lean body against yours, resting his hands on your hips. He peers down at you.

“You sure you want this? With me?” he murmurs.

God fucking dammit. “Are you a virgin or something?” you spit.

He has the gall to look offended while you stand there unfucked. “No!”

You sling your leg up, grab his hand, and place it under your knee. “Then. Fuck. Me.”

Buggy swallows. He lifts your leg higher and grabs his cock. He lines himself up and, with a nod from you, takes the plunge.

You gasp as he pushes into you. Fuck, this is gonna be a helluva squeeze. You’re lucky you’re already wet.

He chokes. It almost sounds like a sob. “Oh, that’s tight…”

You want to protest. You’re not tight, he’s just packing. But you think better of it. “Thrust,” you hiss.

His voice quivers. “I don’t think I can.”

“Just do it.”

He swallows. His cock moves inside you, up and down and up and down. You hiccup with every push and hiss with every pull, but it gets easier as your slick coats your insides.

Buggy has no such relief. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and whimpers with every movement, breathing like a weight crushes his chest.

You feel a bit of sympathy for him until you look down. He’s not thrusting his hips at all. This motherfucker detached his cock from the rest of him.

He sees you looking and gives you a weak, brows-knit, lips-pursed smile. “Perks of being a Chop-Chop man,” he rasps.

A knock on the door makes you both freeze.

“Everything alright in there?” the matron calls. “If he’s dead, I’ll help you move him.”

You roll your eyes and open your mouth, but he presses his finger to your lips. “Shh.”

He detaches himself at the waist, taking his head and his free hand with it. His hips remain against yours, and his cock still stretches you wide.

You watch in shock as he floats his torso over to the door. He opens it just a crack. “Alive and kicking, thanks. How’re you on this fine evening?”

You have no idea how he can make pleasantries with someone while buried up to his balls inside you. You certainly couldn’t. You know what? Fuck him. You squeeze your walls tight.

His breath hitches, but he keeps talking. Slowly but surely, he wins over the matron. You understand how he has as big of a crew as he does. Man’s got a weird charisma that just turns on and off like a lightbulb. You’re kinda jealous.

“She’s sleeping right now. She’s had a rough day. I’ll keep an eye on her. No, of course. Really? I appreciate it. Thank you. Good night, ma’am.”

He closes the door and draws the lock. He turns to you. That charisma is still switched on and it shows. Despite his current lack of legs, he still manages to saunter towards you.

“Trying to make me break character, huh?” His cock slams into you and your tailbone slams the wall and it all makes you gasp. "Cute."

“I don’t like being ignored,” you huff. “Where’d you get the confidence from?”

He gives a smug smile. “All part of the act, baby.“

You liked the other Buggy better than this asshole. You clench tight around his cock.

He chokes and sputters, eyes going wide. He opens his mouth again and you squeeze again and again he chokes on his words. A whimper escapes him this time, but he shakes it off. “Stop that!”

“Then get over here!”

Buggy scowls. It’s a good look on him. He reattaches himself to his waist and slams his palm against the wall right next to your ear. “You're a real bitch, you know that?”

You drape your arms around his broad shoulders. “Damn right."

He grins. He dives for your mouth as his cock reattaches, and he thrusts his hips in a steady rhythm. Nipping, sucking, licking. Any sense at all goes right out the window. All you can think about is how good it feels to be full.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck. His breath is hot on your skin, all raspy huffs and wordless moans. His moans trickle so sweetly into your ear, like grenadine syrup between the ice cubes of a cocktail.

Something wet wiggles in between your bellies and slides down, down to right above where his body joins with yours. It swirls your clit and you damn near scream.

His hand flies to your mouth, pressing a finger to your lips, before pulling you into yet another kiss. You part his lips with your tongue, ready to dance, but…

…nothing. There's nothing there.

You pull away so hard you whack your head on the wall. “What the—?!“

He slams his mouth into yours to shut you up. Still nothing in there. He kisses you again and again until the urge to scream subsides. The urge to swear does not.

You hiss through gritted teeth. “What the fuck?”

He opens his mouth wide. Teeth the color of old ivory glisten in the light, but no tongue. He leans back slightly. A slab of pink flesh waggles against your clit, making you buck. You look back up at him. He winks that little wink of his.

Perks of being a Chop Chop man indeed.

You wrap your arms around his neck. You throw your leg up around his hip and he grabs it. You hook your other leg up and he grabs that one as well. He lays his forehead against yours, gazing right into your soul.

You gaze back. His grip is a little shaky, but you doubt he'll drop you. “Ready?”

Buggy nods curtly. With a snap of his hips, he makes good on his promise.

You’ve never been fucked like this. Screwed to the wall, stretched to bursting, swirled to oblivion, kissed into silence. You wonder if you died in that brawl and went right to hell, punished by being fucked by the object of your lust for the rest of eternity.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you’d be okay with that. No more getting up early. No more worrying about bounty hunters. No more gazing at the ocean and wondering how you went so wrong in your life that you had to jump aboard a kid's pirate ship just to get away from it all.

All that exists are you and the Devil himself, tempting you to sin with a harlequin’s smile, a silver tongue dancing a tango on your clit, and a cock so thick you feel like you’re being split in half. Any of those alone, you could make do with, but all together? You're doomed.

Speaking of which, you’re close. So very close. You say as much to Buggy, who nods.

With one last swirl, he recalls his tongue back to his mouth with a slurping noise you’re not sure turns you on or off. “Knew you were gonna taste good,” he moans.

You decide it's a turn on. “C’mere."

He leans in, only to yip when you latch onto his neck. He moans your name as you suck, bucking harder with every lap of your tongue and every nip of your teeth.

You only pull away to moan his name. “Buggy…”

The thrusting continues. “Say it again.”

Who are you to deny that? “Buggy,” you purr.

He moans your name again. He presses his lips to your ear and repeats it like a chant with every thrust.

You’re not sure if it’s his tone or the way his cock stretches you or if there’s just something in the air, but whatever it is, it tips you right over the edge.

You’re no stranger to cumming. You’ve been around the block. On your own, with a partner, with tools, without, all of it.

Not a damn thing has ever rocked you the way this climax does. It drags you to the top of a cliff, dangles you over the edge, then hurls you down. You hit every bump and briar and boulder along the way, bringing tears to your eyes and making you scream with every pulse.

But you can’t twitch your cunt closed around a cock this thick. You just twitch and throb and moan until he’s driven wild.

Which he is in very short order. He loses his mind, buried deep inside you, stuttering in his rhythm.

"Gonna... Gonna make you a queen," he whimpers. He thrusts up and up, hard, erratic, so close, so very, very close. "Gonna be mine. All mine. Mine mine mine—!"

One final twitch and Buggy comes undone. He whines into your neck as he pops like a cork, nails digging into your hips.

God alive, you wish he wasn’t rubbered up. You want to feel hot, thick seed painting your insides, filling you up so full that it drips down your leg like syrup when he pulls out.

But alas.

You go limp. He goes limp. Like a pair of stringless puppets, you flop onto the bed. It creaks mightily and you worry it might break, but it holds.

You lay there against him, panting. The orgasm sobered you up a bit, and you come to terms with the fact that you might be kind of a slut.

You're ready to scramble away when his arm slips under your neck and the other wraps around your waist. Buggy pulls you in tight and curls up, holding you tight against him, shivering like a man pulled from ice water.

“You okay?” He whimpers like a dog, burying his face in your hair. You try to crane your neck to look at him. “You don’t sound okay.”

A few moments pass. The whimpers stop and he grows still. Cold hits your back as he releases you. You hear the squelch of semen in rubber and the snap of a knot being tied.

“Sorry," he mumbles. "Big one.”

You can’t help yourself. “Been awhile?”

“Shut up.” He flops back onto the bed and wraps back around you. He inhales deeply, then lets out a groan. “Can't feel my legs.”

And now’s your chance. Bail. Run. Get the hell outta Dodge while he’s in a post-coital haze.

But he’s so warm and you're so comfy and he smells so nice. Like sea air and fancy lipstick. Exhaustion swamps you like a rogue wave. You can’t bear to move a muscle.

"That's supposed to be my line," you say.

He replies with a weak giggle and pulls you in closer.

Heavy, lazy silence fills the room, resting atop you like a warm, thick blanket on a winter morning. You never want this moment to end. Nothing else in the world except you, this bed, and the man curled around you. You suppose the least you can do is keep him company through the night.

You try to sit up to grab the edge of the sheet, but his grip tightens. He mumbles something as a hand wriggles out from underneath you. It grabs the sheet and pulls it over the both of you, tucking the edges beneath your body before returning to its rightful place.

Snug as a bug in a rug, you think. A snug bug rug. Well, two bugs. You and him. Snugs as two bugs in a rugs. Or one you and one Buggy. Snuggy Buggy in a ruggy...

Your half-asleep musings are interrupted by a whisper in your ear. “Did you mean what you said?”

“‘Bout what?”

“About joining my crew.”

He’s still on that? Poor guy. You spare him a pitying smile. “‘Fraid so.”

You hear him swallow. He pulls you in tight against him, burying his face in your hair. He murmurs words you don’t quite catch. Sweet little nothings against your scalp.

Your body fits so nicely against his. His belly presses against your back with every breath. He’s so very warm. And comfortable.

You drift off to the best sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.

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Part the Last goes up Saturday!

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