#all my children need therapy *sighs*
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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years ago
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Ohh maybe 1, 2, 3, and 28? 👀
*takes a sip from my can of soda* Ahhh~! Caffeine for the soul~ >:3
But you know what's better for the soul? Questions! Curiosity! RAMBLING ABOUT CHILDREN! >:D Let's GOOOO!
1. What would your Warden generally think of your Hawke and your inquisitor?
Rylen: 
Now, I kind of see Elise eventually meeting or at least, reaching out to Rylen after the events in Kirkwall. After all, she’s an Amell, and so is Hawke. They’re literally the only family each other has (that’s not ‘found’ family, that is.). So, I think Elise would reach out through a letter or somehow manage a visit to her cousin and...connect. She would see him as inspiring; Rylen always manages a smile and a quip. However, if they were to spend more and more time interacting with each other, Elise would see that Hawke isn’t very well put together, especially after the Chantry explosion. She would question why Rylen chose the templars, why he executed Anders who was a like a brother to her, but eventually she would come to understand the whys. Elise would see it as no different as when she decided to spare Loghain at the Landsmeet; they did what they believed to be right and what would be best in that very moment. Both Rylen and Elise sacrificed their own happiness for the benefit of others, and were still blamed for future complications and there’s something comforting in a finding another who can relate. :3
Fane:
So, I actually have some later fic ideas for a confrontation between Elise and Fane (after Trespasser, kind of Pre-DA4 shenanas~), and suffice it to say, these two have similar ways of thinking, but their methods are entirely different. Fane is rash, prone to barreling head first into conflict without thinking about those around him. Elise is analytical, always assessing and placing the pieces in her head to make sure everyone comes out alive. This isn’t to say Fane doesn’t care about his comrades; he does. There’s countless, countless times he takes a blow for someone else without batting an eye or thinking that he could die. He just doesn’t plan; he acts. Fane can get lost in the moment of battle, in the heady scent of chaos and blood. Elise, at first meeting him, would see him as any typical warrior; eager for battle and a garden of death. But if they were to sit down and talk...I think she might find him endearing and fascinating. More or less she would think, ‘He’s so mature for someone so young. I mean, he’s twenty-four, but...he speaks as if he’s older. His speech is manicured, measured as if decided upon carefully. And his eyes...there’s pain, a deep, deep pain. Like some of the older Wardens, those just hearing the Calling. But also...hope? Conviction? Who are you, Inquisitor? What has the world done to you?’
2. What would your Hawke generally think of your warden and your Inquisitor?
Elise:
Rylen would probably have the same opinion of Elise as she does with him. They’re family, split apart due the misconceptions and fear, and my Hawke cherishes family. He lost everyone else he could rightly consider family. Fenris, Varric, Sebastian, Isabela, and Merrill are the only people he can call family now. (Anders and Aveline are complicated. I won’t go into that can of worms. For now~ >:3) He would definitely feel a level of guilt for what he had to do in Kirkwall with Anders, with the mages, with...everything, but Rylen just tries to make it through another day. If he and Elise started to interact I think it would be extremely beneficial to Rylen. Elise is patient, sometimes stern, and not afraid to lay all the facts out. Rylen would admire that since he’s had to go through life wearing a mask, a smile, a facade just to placate someone else. He would see Elise as another sister and his opinion of her would probably be along the lines of, ‘I won’t let another member of my family be torn from me. Father, Bethany, Carver...Mother.. I failed them. I won’t fail her. I won’t fail her. She’s bright and she keeps her head held high. Heh, now I see how she killed an Archdemon and lived to tell the tale. ...Bet the lightning has something to do with that, too.’
Fane: 
Rylen and Fane, in my head, actually hit it off from the get go. They’ve both had to take mantles of power, even though they never, never wanted to. Though, for different reasons, of course. But Rylen would find Fane inspiring and wholly capable of doing what must be done. He’d be kind of put off that most of his well thought out jokes and pokes would fall flat on Fane, but eventually, Rylen would see why that is. (Draconic nature withstanding.) Also, once my Hawke found out Fane is dragon?  OHHHH, BUDDY. There would be yelling and screeching and cries of, ‘WHY DO I KEEP MEETING DRAGONS, FENRIS?! FIRST THE WITCH, NOW THE INQUISITOR?! ..I’m done. I’m putting my daggers down and stealing away into the mountains. Varric, you wanna come with? I know you’re fed up with this shit, too! Don’t lie! DON’T. LIE.’
3. What would your Inquisitor generally think of your warden and your Hawke?
Elise:
Fane would probably think of Elise as...interesting. Not in a bad way. Just...interesting. Fane isn’t comfortable with Wardens after Adamant. He learns that he can hear the corruption inside of them and that terrifies him. And confuses him. And makes him go, ‘What the fuck am I? I don’t even know anymore. Why do I try?’ But, if he were to get over that and, like I said with Elise, talk? He would have another perspective of the men and women that had let fear take them by the throat. It wouldn’t change his feelings regarding the Wardens entirely, but one level mind, one open mind, is enough to make Fane tap into his nature and consider other sides of a very, very large cube.
‘She’s more...quiet than the others. Maybe because it’s just her? No...Loghain was still loud as fuck when it was just him, so why? Ugh, I’m so sick of these puzzles. At least she’s more stable, but I can see the pain in her eyes; green like mine, but missing the gold. Maybe the Taint is stronger than she thinks? Perhaps, but still she fights, still she claws her way towards something that may be impossible. ...Hmph. How typical. A similarity. This world continues to confound.’
Rylen:
Fane respects Rylen after spending some time to feel him out, know his cues, and piece together which is his actual face. Once that happens, Fane can move into respect with my Hawke. These two have a fairly similar moral compass; pragmatism regarding most decisions. Again, they both have been thrust into a position without asking for it, so that would be a stepping stone upon the bonding path. All in all, Fane’s general opinion of Rylen would be, ‘He’s worn that mask of smiles and bright, grey eyes for too long. It’s cracking at the edges, wearing down to mere mortar. Then again, I have my own mask. I’m in no position to judge and condemn, but...it’s worrying. Even the strongest wings can be torn and all that greets is the earth below. I hope your wings don’t falter, Champion. It would be disappointing for the world to lose someone who cares when those who should are content to point the finger towards anyone but themselves.’
28. What is their favourite location within their own game and what would be their favourite in each others?
Fane: The Emprise du Lion! Snowwwww! Coooold! Ice dragooooon! >:3 ...minus the red lyrium. *snorts* 
Origins: Hmm, I think Fane would like the Brecilian Forest. He enjoys forests as much as he enjoys the cold, the ice, and the snow. He likes the animals, even though he tries not to interfere with them, and he likes the quiet. No chattering, no demands. Only trees, leaves, and the occasional whistle of wind. Also, Fane likes to investigate ancient ruins. He’s not interested in the history, really. He just wants to see if he can find any remnants about his kin that the elves may have left behind. :3
DA2: Probably Sundermount since again, wilderness. Fane doesn’t do too well in crowded areas and Kirkwall would make his heart rate sky rocket. Not just because of the people, but because of the size. Those cramped streets of Lowtown would just make him...eugh. *shivers*
Elise: She adores Orzammar! Especially the Shaperate! The dwarves fascinate Elise since not many tomes in the Circle went into depth about them! :D And if we want to with Awakening areas, I would saaaay...Amaranthine. She’s always like towns and cities due to not being able to experience them until the Blight! :3
Inquisition: Elise would adore the Frostback Basin. Like, really enjoy it! All that flora and Avaar culture and wilderness? MMMM!
DA2: Definitely the Wounded Coast. Hands down. My daughter enjoys the sea so much. The salt in the air, the feel of sand, and the pretty, pretty shells and rolling waves? Every Circle mages’ wet dream. *waggles eyebrows*
Rylen: So, if we’re not talking like open world areas in the game, I would definitely say Rylen’s favorite place is the Hanged Man. The man needs a drink to deal with Kirkwall. Just saying. It’s also where he can just...be himself with the people who know him. 
Inquisition: Hinterlands. He’s a FERELDAN. He wants his MABARI to RUN in native land! He wants to...go home. ;3;
Origins: I like to think the Hawke family went all over Ferelden before settling in Lothering. I mean, they kind of do, but maybe for more than a few months at a time? So, Rylen would enjoy Denerim. He likes to go where people are, where life is. He likes crowds because he can blend into them and not be tracked down until he wants to be tracked down. ...My Hawke just wants to live in peace with his glowy elf husband and run a mabari ranch. Is that too much to ask, Bioware?! Let Hawke REST!
Woo! That was FUN! It really got me thinking, too! X3 Thank you so much, friend! <3
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discount-shades · 2 years ago
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Sleepy Baby Part 1
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a/n: I got this in my head and couldn’t find another fic that mentioned it. This is the first fic I've ever written.
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/reader
Warning: brief mentions of car crash and cheating
Word Count: 1100 ish
Summary: Jake must defend his call sign to a stranger, and he is on a timer. 
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You checked the timer on your phone for the third time, sighing at the 32 minutes remaining. One hour, every week, socializing with strangers. That was the deal you made with your therapist. 
Eighteen months after a horrific car crash killed your fiancé and childhood best friend your therapist suggested you ‘get back out there.’ It wasn’t just their deaths that you were working through in your twice monthly therapy sessions. It was the fact that she was blowing him when they crashed. You thought that was something that only happened in movies and tv shows.  Your grief was… complicated. 
So here you were at the bar of the week nursing a whiskey sour until the timer on your phone said you could go home. You surreptitiously glance around. Judging by the uniforms of the other patrons and the décor the Hard Deck was a military bar. You massage your temples and check your phone again, 29 minutes to go. 
“Need some company while you wait for your date?” You glance to your left at the southern drawl. An unfairly handsome man in a uniform with green eyes is looking down at you and you stare a little too long. “I’ve been watching you check your phone,” he explains, “he’s an idiot to keep you waiting.“ 
“I'm not expecting company,” you roll your eyes at him. “But thank you for assuming I’m being stood up. It was definitely the vibe I was going for.” You take another sip of your drink so you have something to do with your hands. 
A slow smile breaks out across his face. “In that case I’m Hangman.”
“I'm sorry your parents hated you.”
At your deadpan response he chuckles. “It’s my call sign,” he explains smugly. “I'm a fighter pilot.” He is easily the most attractive man in the bar and he knows it, and there is something about his inflated ego that makes you want to pop it. Just a little.
“Hangman like the spelling game?” you ask and he nods and brushes your arm, leaning into you.
You hum noncommittally, cocking your head as you look at him. “You know some schools discourage playing hangman.” You tell him. “They don’t want to encourage violence in children so they play Sleepy Baby instead.”
“Sleepy Baby?” He asks in confusion, leaning back.
“Yeah, you draw a baby in a crib instead of a man on the gallows,” you grin at his scandalized expression. “You could change your pilot name to Sleepy Baby, so you don’t scare the children and all.” 
“Darling, you are the only one I’d let call me ‘baby’.” You laugh at his smooth recovery. “What’s your name, beautiful?” He is charming despite his ego and his intense stare is giving you butterflies. 
“Tic-tac-toe.” 
“Imma call you Hugs and Kisses and you can call me Baby.” You can’t help but laugh at his confidence. 
“So if you are not waiting for anyone why are you always checking on your phone?” The pilot sits down beside you leaning forward again so his knees brush against yours. 
You contemplate your answer before deciding that fuck it, you will be at another bar next week and will never see the handsome pilot again so might as well be honest. “My therapist has suggested that I should ‘socialize with adults that are not coworkers or the children I work with.’” You explain. “So one hour a week I must socialize.” You wave your hand vaguely at the bar. 
“Are you one of those teachers banning hangman?” He asks in mock outrage, graciously glossing over most of your explanation. 
“Child Activity Coordinator at a local library actually, but yeah I’ve been know to play a few rounds of Sleepy Baby.” You say with a shrug.“ Some parents get upset at certain things and it’s easier just to avoid it than die on the hill of hangman. Plus there was one little boy who would cry when the man was hung so it was best to avoid the tears.”
“He would cry every time?” The green eyed pilot has a fond smile on his face. 
You nodded. “I mean the same kid also cried when someone stole his imaginary kitten so some things can’t be helped but sometimes it’s just easier to avoid it.” You said with a grin remembering the moment. 
“It’s hard to believe we live in a world where imaginary kittens aren’t even safe.” He shakes his head solemnly and you burst out laughing. The unexpected arrival of the cocky pilot has been a delightful addition to your evening. 
“So one hour a week?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “How much time do I have left?”
You check your phone, “you have 17 minutes, Flyboy.” You grin. “So what made you join the AirForce?”
He looks offended. “Darling, I'm a Naval Aviator.” 
You blink blankly at him. “I was genuinely not aware the Navy had pilots.” 
“The navy has aircraft carriers,” he grins “who do you think flies the planes?”
“Honestly, I never thought about it and I think I just assumed it was a Navy / Air Force cooperation situation.” You trail off still thinking before shrugging. “I guess you learn something new every day.”
“I could teach you something else,” he sends you a flirty wink.
“I think I’ve reached my knowledge quota for the day,” you laugh back. “But what did you learn today?”
“That my call sign breaks the heart of little boys and their stolen imaginary kittens, and I could use a therapist that suggests going to a bar.”
“Good news Sleepy Baby, I don't think you needed the help to make it here.”
You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket notifying you that your hour is up and a not so small part of you is disappointed. You pull your phone out and hold up the timer to the pilot in front of you. “That’s time.”
“Can I get your number?” He asks hopefully as you gather your purse and finish your drink. “We could spend the full hour together next time, therapists advice on socializing and all.”
“I’ll pass this time, but next time, who knows?” You say as you stand, feeling a little sad that you will never see him again. 
“As long as you remember, Hugs and Kisses, I’m in the Navy.” 
You look up at him grinning. “Don’t worry, I’ll remember.” 
As you leave you walk by the jukebox glancing down and see the perfect song on the track lists. You hit the number grinning to yourself as you walk to the door. 
When you reach the exit you turn around and find the green eyed pilot has made his way back to some others in uniforms at the pool table. “Hey Baby,” you call out over the noise of the bar. You grin when he looks up eagerly as the Village People begins to play over the jukebox. “This song’s for you!”  You shoot him a mock salute as you walk out the door. 
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ladykailitha · 2 years ago
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Star Child Part 3
In which we learn a little backstory about why Eddie was so resistant to playing with Steve and that the Harringtons are so so much worse.
Part 1 Part 2
*
Eddie woke up alone with the worst hangover and if his day couldn’t get any worse there was someone banging on his door.
“Hold on, damn it,” Eddie mumbled, stumbling to the door.
He threw it open to see all three of his bandmates standing there, looking far too chipper for this ungodly hour.
“What do you want?” he bit out.
“Someone struck out,” Jeff teased.
“How could you possibly strike out,” Gareth hissed, “when the dude was practically throwing himself at you?”
“What. Do. You. Want?” Eddie asked through gritted teeth.
“We wanted to see if you wanted to go for breakfast before head out of town?” Brian said.
Eddie closed his eyes. “Yeah, just give me fifteen minutes, I still need to pack up.”
They all nodded and Eddie slammed the door in their faces. He realized he didn’t have any of his stuff. He looked around the room frantically before his cell phone went off, announcing its presence on the table.
Eddie let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He unlocked the screen as he pocketed the keys and wallet.
-I hope the hangover isn’t too terrible this morning.
Eddie grinned and typed out his reply.
-Doing better now that I’ve heard from you.
-Glad to hear it. Sorry I didn’t stay, I had an early morning radio show to do this morning.
Okay, Eddie thought, that was a valid reason. Still made him grumpy.
-Why would you do something that early in the morning?
-I take it you’re not a morning person?
Eddie huffed out a laugh.
-I’m barely a person before noon.
-lol. You doing anything later today?
Eddie pulled his hair in front of his face and sighed.
-On the way to Chicago, we’ve got a concert tomorrow night
Eddie stared at the three little dots for what felt like forever before the message filled up his screen.
-Damn. I was really hoping you’d come with me when I went to visit the children’s hospital this afternoon. The kids would have been over the moon. But if you have a gig, that’s fine.
Eddie had the feeling that Steve was floundering on the other end of the phone.
-Yeah sorry. Being from Hawkins and considered the town freaks makes us not want to stick around. But you do you man.
-Yeah I hear that. My own experience with the town is pretty shit too. I feel I have to give back after being the little shit I was when I was in school.
Eddie paused. Yeah. He knew all about that.
-Making up for being the school bully the reason you did last night’s concert?
Eddie had finished packing all his shit up and patted his pockets, making sure his keys and wallet were still there by the time he got a response from Steve.
He opened the door when his phone trilled in his hand.
-In part, yeah. Calling kids queer or fag when you are bisexual is the worst kind of dick move I can think of.
Eddie slumped against the door frame staring at his phone.
Shit.
-You’re pulling my chain, right?
Suddenly his phone was ringing.
“Yeah?” Eddie answered.
“Hey,” Steve murmured. “I’m really not pulling your chain. I swear on it.”
“Holy shit, man,” Eddie said. “Who knows?”
“You, my parents, my agent, my manager, my record label,” Steve muttered.
“That’s why you’re parents wanted you committed, isn’t it?” Eddie asked.
Steve hummed. “They tried conversion therapy first. It’s where I met my best friend and manager, Robin. We escaped and she took over as my manager. My parents tried to sue the courts to say I was crazy, but when I told them that would have to say why they wanted me committed, they dropped it.”
“Fuck, man.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to go. So if you still want to chat, text me, okay?”
“I’ve got to go, too,” Steve whispered. “I know you don’t have any reason not to tell anyone about me. About what I said. But...can it wait a year? My contract with my label will be up and it won’t matter after that.”
“What?” Eddie squeaked. “No, man. I’m not going to out you. Shit. You do you. Come out when you feel comfortable, okay?”
Steve let out a shuddering breath. “Thank you. Drive safe.”
“Yeah, and tell those kiddies, Uncle Eddie says hello, k?”
Steve laughed. “Will do.”
They said their goodbyes and Eddie slipped into the elevator, feeling like his whole world had just bottomed out.
*
Eddie slept off his hangover in the tour bus. They were about half way to Chicago when he woke up.
“He lives!” Jeff said from the table where the rest of the band was playing cards.
“Fuck off,” Eddie grumbled. He grabbed a water bottle and some aspirin. He swallowed the pills and came to sit next to Gareth.
“You still in denial about Pretty Boy Stevie?” Brian asked.
Eddie threw his head back and rested it on the back cushion. “I don’t even know anymore, man. I have this image of him in my head from high school and shit, I don’t know.”
“Well he’s certainly got us convinced he’s a pretty cool dude,” Jeff said. And began ticking off the reasons on his fingers. “He writes all his own music, plays guitar and piano, that arrangement of ‘Low Key in Love’ was bitching as hell, man. And that’s just the stuff I saw. That’s not even the stuff we were hearing from the people close to him.”
“Yeah,” Gareth agreed. “You can always tell the fakes from the real stand up dudes from how their people talk about them. The sound guy at the venue said Steve offered to give him a ride home, because his car broke down.”
“Even gave him money to get it fixed or replaced,” Jeff said.
“The night was filled with other stories like that,” Brian agreed. “It looks like he’s honestly trying to give back to the town. Which is amazing, by the way.”
Eddie sighed. “You guys were sophomores when Steve was still at Hawkins High, right?”
The three of them looked at each other at the strange non-sequitur.
“Yeah,” Gareth said. “So?”
Eddie licked his lips before pressing them together. “Did you ever run afoul the popular seniors’ group?”
Jeff scoffed. “No. We were too insignificant.”
“Lucky you,” Eddie dead panned.
“Oh shit,” Brian said. “You’re saying Steve bullied in at school?”
Eddie sighed. “Stood by and watched was more like, but yeah. The Kings were a good name for those assholes.”
“Fuck, man,” Jeff muttered.
They were silent for a moment before Brian looked up at him. “Did–did you ever meet Steve’s dad?”
Eddie scoffed. “Once, but I was too drunk to remember it. But from what I’ve been hearing lately, I want to reach down his throat and pull out his blackened shriveled heart out through his mouth.”
Brian raised an eyebrow. “Nah, that would be too good for the asshole.” He bit his lip. “I honestly don’t know how Steve survived let alone became as big as he is.”
Eddie frowned.
Jeff and Brian shared a glance.
“My older sister used to run with some of the cheerleaders when she was on the drill team,” Jeff said. “She was pretty sure Mr Harrington was beating him when he was in town. Which, admittedly wasn’t often, but it was enough that you could sense a pattern.”
“Holy shit,” Eddie whispered.
Gareth sighed. “We aren’t saying this to excuse what Steve did in high school but it seems to me that he was dealing with some shit you know?”
Eddie sighed. “Still is, apparently.”
They all stared at him in shock.
He half shrugged, tilting his head. “I don’t know, he’s told me some pretty heavy stuff. Like career ending stuff. He trusted me and I really don’t know what to do with that.”
“Sounds to me,” Gareth said, “like he’s trying to make amends but doesn’t know how.”
Eddie’s lip quivered. “I think I like him. Like a lot.”
“Well, you’ve got time I think,” Jeff said. “Deciding what to do with that. I mean we’re still on tour for the next two months and his manager, Robin was saying that Steve was getting ready to go into the studio for his last album. He’ll be in LA about the time of our last concert. If you still feel that way about him by then ask him out.”
Eddie blinked. “Yeah, okay.”
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
Tag List: @whatthemeepever @cutepumpkin4 @spectrum-spectre @livelaughlexa @ohlook-afrog @linkydinky06 @goodolefashionedloverboi @moonshadows-13  @eboyawstenn @avacrebs @bejeweledbaby
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azalea-writes · 2 years ago
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Can I have the brothers (+ undateables and luke) to an aloof, nosy, professional therapist MC mentally examining Mammon, diagnosing him with depression and adhd, and having the “audacity” to state that his environment is toxic? Oddly specific but it came to mind and I can’t write well.
A/N: I'm sorry if this didn't come out the way you wanted! I ended up writing a fanfic about a family therapy session focusing on Mammon oops. Also, I'm not a therapist and just pulled most of this information from my memories when I did go to therapy el oh el.
Family Therapy Gone... Right?! (Not clickbait)
WARNING: uhmmm I wrote most of this at midnight. not proofread. bad fanfic I believe. ooc i think. I haven't played obey me in a while so yuh.
Word Count: 1.8k words
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Alt: Enjoy!
***
When you first came into the Devildom, you thought you were getting a break from your job. Surely the 7 deadly sins didn't need a therapist? They're demons after all, what kind of problems would they have?
Oh how wrong you were...
Over your stay in the Devildom, you were getting suspicious that Diavolo just wanted to get a free therapist for the brothers. He could at least not let you go to school... You have to spend your day babysitting a bunch of man-children, who whine at you when you don't give them attention for every second of the day, AND having to finish all your homework.
It wasn't until after you helped Belphie get out from the attic that you decided to take action. You had a notebook full to the brim with notes about this family and their problems. Most of these notes came from examining the seven brothers. Sure, some of them got mad at you for being nosy, but you were persistent!
***
"Mammon, how much do you love your brothers?" You had asked, tilting your head to the side. Mammon seemed flustered at the question.
"H-How much I love them? Nah! The only thing I love is my baby, Goldie! I don't... really care for... my brothers..." Mammon came off boastful, only to end up whispering the last part, as if it hurts to say it out loud.
"Ah, okay, so a ton?" You nodded, as if Mammon just didn't deny caring for his brothers.
"Oi! Did you hear any words I said?!" Mammon yelled, albeit a bit flustered. Classic Mammon, he loves to deny that he cares about anyone but his money.
"Don't worry Mammon, we all go through the five stages of denial at some point of our lives," You smiled at him.
"I ain't denying anything!"
"So, from a scale of 1-10, how emotionally vul-"
"Stop asking me those damn questions!"
***
Albeit, some notes came from them just outright telling you about their tragic backstory after staying with them for a short amount of time.
Looking back at your notebook, you let out a long, frustrated sigh. It also doesn't help that they all collectively use Mammon as their punching bag. You decided to put an end to all of this. For the sake of Mammon and for the sake of this family's well being! Maybe for your own mental health as well...
All of that led to now, the common room having the 7 demon brothers sit together around the fireplace. One one sofa, Mammon was between Asmo and Satan. On the other sofa, Beel was in between Belphie and Levi. Lucifer sat on the armchair while you decided to sit on a chair that you stole from the nearby table, opting to sit in front of the fireplace.
"I have to say, I'm surprised that you got Levi out of his room," Asmo snickered while looking at said brother.
"S-Shut up! I didn't want to be here with y-you normies! MC can be quite intimidating sometimes..." Levi whispered the last part while looking at you. You just gave a close-eyed smile which made Levi gulp.
"I think it's a miracle that you managed to have Lucifer here since he thinks he's above everyone else," Satan said mockingly, which earned a scoff from Lucifer.
"Ehhh, are we not going to talk about how Mammon is actually here with us?" Levi pointed out, which earned Mammon the spotlight.
"Ay! What's that supposed to mean?" barked Mammon.
"What he's trying to say is that you're always off gambling and getting into trouble with the witches that you always miss meetings like these. You're so clueless," Belphie yawned out.
"He probably doesn't have any money, probably spent it all on gambling. Talk about skill issues!" Levi snickered.
"Alright, break it up," you sighed before this therapy session turned into a 'bully Mammon' session.
"I gathered you all today for one specific reason," you paused for a dramatic effect, it earned you unimpressed looks, "for family therapy!"
As soon as those words left your mouth, everyone's face turned bewildered.
"Family therapy..?" Beel mumbled out.
"Yup! You may already know that I asked you some rather personal questions," you said, which made some of the demons groan from the memories, "and with what you guys told me out of free will, I compiled a list of problems that you guys have!"
"So instead of doing your work and studying, you decided to make a list about our flaws?" Lucifer said, unamused.
"Precisely!" You beamed, earning a sigh from Lucifer.
"From what I could collect, I figured out you guys have communication problems, father issues, unresolved trauma, problems with emotional vulnerability, self-esteem issues, depression, repressed anger, you're touch-starved, some of you have some type of neurodevelopmental disorders--" Before you could continue, you were cut off by somebody. You looked up to see most of them wide-eyed.
"Woah, woah! When you said list, I thought it was going to be about 5 things. I wasn't expecting this much!" Asmo fretted.
"If Asmo didn't cut them off, how much longer would they have gone..?" Satan mumbled.
"At least you get the point!" You smiled before having a blank face, "I would very much appreciate your cooperation."
They looked at each other before nodding.
"Great! Let's start off with Mammon!" You beamed, turning the spotlight onto Mammon.
"...HUH?!" Mammon yelled out after taking a moment to process everything.
"Sorry to put you on the spot, but I can't help but be concerned about you," you sighed, "In the human world, we have this mental disorder called ADHD. It affects people's behaviors, and in a short summary, it makes them inattentive and impulsive. From what I observed, I'd say you fit the criteria."
"What does this have to do with anything?" Mammon questioned.
"Oh, this brings me to my next point. ADHD isn't something that you can control, yet the environment you're in is quite toxic that it worries me," you stated.
"Toxic, you say? It is fully expected from us. We are demons after all," Lucifer refuted.
"Yes, you're demons, yet I unwillingly got assigned as your family therapist..." you huffed out.
You sighed for the nth time, "as I was saying, you keep getting picked on and getting severe punishments for your actions that you can't quite control. It doesn't help that your sin is Greed. You say everything's fine and it doesn't bother you. Yet I can't help but think otherwise. You refuse to show or tell us what you're actually feeling."
After you finished your deduction, nobody uttered a word and looked at Mammon. Mammon opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping for air, yet no words would come out.
"I did put you in the spotlight. How about this, each and every one of you say something you like about Mammon. I'm positive that you guys have something nice to say about him," you decided to give poor Mammon some mercy.
An awkward silence filled the room. Belphie would open his mouth to speak, but closed it and hugged his pillow closer. It wasn't that they didn't have anything to say, it's just they aren't used to this type of stuff. It's really sad to see, to be honest. Looking back at Mammon, you could see that he was a bit hurt by the silence.
Beel was the first so speak up after a minute or so, "I appreciate it when you give your food to me even when you're hungry." Although it wasn't a huge compliment, it had a meaning behind it. With Mammon's sin, it's a surprise to everybody with how easily he'll sacrifice anything for his brothers. It was evident that Beel knew this by the way he smiled towards Mammon, who was across from him, a smile that really showed his appreciation.
Mammon just froze up, not knowing how to react or respond. Belphie decided to follow his twin's footsteps, a little shy given by the way he's hiding most of his face with his pillow, "Mhm... I like it when you adjust my sleeping position to be more comfortable so I don't feel sore when I wake up..."
Asmo took notice of how embarrassed Mammon was and how he's trying to make himself look smaller. Asmo proceeded to hug him, which caused Mammon to yelp. "I still remember how you sold one of my precious necklaces. When I woke up the next day, it magically appeared on my vanity desk! You tried to play it off, but I know it was you who got it back!" Asmo giggled. Mammon tried to get away from Asmo's grasp, but he wouldn't budge.
Satan chuckled at Asmo's antics, but sighed shortly after. "...I appreciate how you don't snitch on me when I sneak cats in. You went out of your way buying some cat food in order to help me, so thank you," Satan mumbled, but it was audible enough for everybody to hear.
At this point, Mammon didn't know what to do, so he opted to look at the last two brothers who needed to speak. Levi mumbled something incoherent, probably about how embarrassing this was, before speaking up while avoiding eye contact, "Even though you never pay me back, you still manage to make me feel better when I am down... Somehow..."
"It's Lucifer's turn! Come on! We've all said something, now it's your turn," Asmo proclaimed, still not letting go of Mammon.
"I'm curious on what he's going to say," Satan said with a smug smile, thinking that Lucifer would be too prideful to say anything in front of everyone.
Mammon hesitantly looked at Lucifer, scared of what the eldest would say. Lucifer chuckled, "This has been going quite well, I'm surprised."
"How do you think I feel? I was ready to face a bunch of wild animals..." You mumbled out.
Lucifer thought on what he's going to say, "Although you cause us a lot of trouble, you're still very dear to us. Back in the Celestial Realm, you would always help me out, which I'll always be grateful for. Even now you still help me, though you'll always deny it. ...I'll cut back on the punishments for your well being."
Everyone looked at Lucifer, shocked that the demon of Pride was able to muster out those words. Their shock was short- lived as hiccups filled the room. "Ah! Mammon, you're crying!" Asmo panicked, finally letting go of his older brother.
"I-I ain't crying!" Mammon denied. Even as he wiped his tears with his sleeve, they kept on coming. Lucifer stood up and brought out a handkerchief, he kneeled beside Mammon and tried to wipe his face to the best of his ability. Soon, the rest of the brothers came to comfort Mammon. Asmo wrapped an arm around Mammon's shoulder; Asmo no longer cared about his clothes as it got stained with tears. Levi didn't know what to do so he just softly patted Mammon's head.
You stayed on your chair, not wanting to ruin this precious moment. Although there are many things to talk about, you decided to leave it for the next session.
"Man, I don't get paid enough for this... Oh wait, I don't get paid at all."
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demonsandmischief · 2 years ago
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-Chapter 7: The Avengers Therapist-
Bisexual Female Reader x The Avengers
Rated M for eventual sexual themes
1.4K Words
My Masterlist for other chapters. Please read disclaimer in Ch. 1
You turned on the lamp to your apartment, jumping when you noticed the small figure on your couch.
"Jeez, Wanda," you said. "How did you get in here?"
She flicked her wrist, revealing a short red spark that disappeared in the blink of an eye.
"Tony gave me a key," she said, standing up. "How's your new job?"
"It's good," you said, washing your hands. "It's a non-profit for children. It's different from what I've done before."
Wanda nodded.
"How's therapy?"
"It's not for me."
She must've seen the look on your face because she sighed. "That doesn't mean I'm not still trying. I am, but I'm not comfortable with her, not like I am with you."
You smiled. "I'm always here to listen and help, unofficially of course. Besides, your evaluations are over now, right?"
"They were today," she murmured. "They still make us do a three week session after. We won't know what they decide until next week."
"How did it go?" you asked gently. Wanda stepped closer to you. You were backed into your kitchen island, but you didn't mind the lack of space.
"Horrible," she whispered. "I'm so tired of people prying in my life, acting like they understand. We've been scrutinized for so long. I just want to become invisible."
"Wanda," you tried to soothe, reaching up to cup her cheek. "I'm sorry. I can't imagine how that feels."
"I think everyone else feels the same way," she mumbled. "I was hoping you would come back with me for the weekend."
"I haven't really heard from anybody since that night you all slept over," you admitted, dropping your hand. "I just assumed since I rejected the offer to come back that you all were done with me."
"That's not true," she whispered. "I don't think any of us communicate very well, and I guess I could have done better-"
"It's okay," you eased, not wanting her to take the blame. "I could've reached out myself. I just got really busy."
Wanda dropped her head, and your breath caught in your throat. Her lips brushed against your cheek, dangerously close to your lips.
She backed off, flashing you an innocent smile. "Maybe we could pick up some cupcakes on the way back to cheer everyone up."
You didn't take her as the teasing type, but you were wrong. There wasn't a single Avenger that wasn't a tease, except maybe Steve, but you knew you hadn't unlocked that side yet.
---
"Look who I found," Wanda announced as you both entered the main area of the compound. Everyone was gathered around the table, eating, looking pretty glum and exhausted. Tony was the only one not there.
Steve's features immediately brightened. "YN. You're back."
"I thought I would crash here for the weekend," you said, giving a tentative smile.
You didn't expect Bucky to be the one to stand up, pulling you to his chest in a tight embrace, and though he didn't say anything, you felt what he was conveying.
"I missed you, too, Buck," you whispered, muffled by his t-shirt, comforted by his familiar smell.
"Nasha solnyshka," Natasha said quietly with an endearing smile gracing her lips. She took a plate, filling it to the brim. "Come, eat."
You took the seat next to her with Wanda on the other end. The table was bigger than you remembered.
"What did you say?" you asked her.
"You're our little ray of sunshine," she said sincerely. "Sam cooked tonight. It's very good."
"I tried something new," Sam said. "It was my mom's recipe for my sister and I when we got sick."
"Today didn't go so well, did it?" you asked the whole table.
"It wasn't just today," Steve answered. "The last two weeks have been pure hell. They needed a lot of information at such short notice. We were meeting nearly everyday on top of all of our other work."
"I'm sorry," you said. You felt guilty for all of their suffering. Maybe if you had just stayed on-
"It's not your fault," Clint said next to you. He extended his arm over the back of your chair. "Not one bit."
"Besides," Nat added. "You are right. There's something special here, and we don't want to be limited by some contract."
You smiled.
Sam's food was delicious, as it always is.
Afterwards, you helped clean up the kitchen. Someone mentioned board games and hot chocolate, and you decided to find Tony while they set things up.
Tony was in his lab, of course.
"Woah," you mumbled as you entered. The place was a mess, but besides that, you had never been up close to an Iron Man suit before. There were so many mechanical stations set up. There were some machines doing different things, and Tony was right in the middle of it.
"I'm guessing this is what your brain looks like," you teased, dragging a stool next to him.
"Don't try to psycho-analyze me, doc," he teased back, dropping his intense concentration to focus on you.
You eyed the plate full of food sitting next to him.
"You didn't eat."
"I didn't feel up to it," he shrugged. He gave you a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, though. Today was rough, for all of us, but I've got this new feature for the suit I've been working on, and I can't do anything else until I get it done."
"Okay," you nodded. You took in his scruffy look. He was relaxed in his element. "Take a break and come play board games with us?"
He looked like he was going to say no, but you pouted a bit.
"I know for a fact that look works on Steve," he said.
"So far, I think it's worked on everyone," you grinned. "Including you."
He rolled his eyes, before his features softened. "I'm glad you're here. We've all missed having you around. I heard you got a new job. Congrats."
"Thank you," you said. "It's actually quite a commute from my apartment, but it's closer to here." You threw that last part in to see his reaction, and you weren't disappointed.
"You're still considering staying here?" he asked. His features were all lit up. He reached up to brush his knuckles across your cheek.
You whispered, "Of course. As long as the offer is still open."
"Anytime. This is your home now, too." He stood up, pressing his lips to your forehead.
You followed him up the stairs.
"Can I try on the suit?" you asked.
"Definitely not."
"What about the blasty hand thingys?"
He turned to give you a skeptical look. "I heard what you did with Barton's arrow."
"Maybe you would be a better teacher," you said just as you made it upstairs, and just as Clint walked by.
"Ouch," Clint said, giving you a fake hurt look. You muffled your laugh behind your hand.
Wanda, Nat, Steve, Sam and Bucky looked to be in the midst of a very intense game of Uno.
"Draw four," Sam told Bucky.
"Why do you have so many of those?" Bucky grumbled.
"I want in," Tony said, joining their circle.
"You have to wait. I'm getting ready to win," Nat said, placing down a red six and shouting Uno before anyone else could call her out on it.
You took a seat on the couch behind them, amused by their antics.
"Here," Clint said, handing you a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
You smiled in thanks. "Why aren't you playing?"
"Because Clint makes the best hot chocolate," Wanda answered.
"That's right," Clint nodded. "I have a secret ingredient."
"It's chocolate syrup," Wanda whispered to you.
"Apparently, the word secret means nothing to you."
"Everybody knows it, Clint," Nat said, taking a card from the stack with a huff.
Sam called Uno. It looked like Bucky could barely see all of his cards because he had so many. Steve seemed to be in deep concentration.
You glanced at the stack of board games. There were several to choose from, and they were all good ones like Monopoly, Sorry, Headbands, and Clue. You tried to pinpoint which of the Avengers would be the type to have them, and you narrowed it down to Sam or Clint.
------------------Author's Note-------------------------
Being with them felt good. You could be yourself. You were exactly right where you needed to be.
Here's Ch. 8
hi! happy wednesday! happy longer chapter day!
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what would you all like to see happen? ive written up to ch 11 and i think i will start wrapping it up.
prepare for some drama ✨
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{Am I…a God? Neat}
-Chapter Two: Emergence Day & Cryo Therapy-
Polaris was concerned for its creator. Sure they had finally mustered up the energy to summon them home, but maybe it was a mistake. Watching (Y/n) float about the void space looking through screens and observing everything was a sight the creature thought they wouldn’t see again. It had been eons since the creator’s fall. Since that last horrific fight the remnants of it can still be seen in the worlds of creation.
The gelatinous creature hovered over (Y/n) shoulder noticing that they’d stopped to stare at one screen in particular. A warped jingle sounded from them as they noticed it was of Teyvat. (Y/n) hummed at them but said nothing. The current scene was of the twins being separated, playing on loop. Polaris knew of the twins separation but didn’t feel a need to worry as because of the divine’s blessing they’d always find each other again.
But it was worried about what could happen while the twins were separated. The creature knew that the twins were the only being keeping the cosmos and the worlds of creation stable since the Void’s death. If their powers were sealed away and them separated who knows what would happen to everything their creator made, including their beloved children.
This was the reasoning Polaris and a few other screen guardian creatures banded together to summon the divine once more. It was risky and resulted in casualties, the screen guardian of Teyvat was the only survivor. “Polaris dear…its not your fault…you did what was right…you all did…and for that I could not be prouder of my creations…Know you do not bear this burden alone little one..”
A hand was placed on top of Polaris’s body as a gentle and comforting warm embraced them. The aura of the divine was always something Polaris missed in the time it had to spend alone. A soft jingle rung out from it as it nuzzled into its creator’s hand. “I’m back now…but I am still weak…even so I must act now…I fear what damage this… Celestia has done is almost irreparable…”
A sigh could be heard from (Y/n) has they placed a hand on their chin to think,’ I need to reunite with my children but…if I don’t do so quitely I fear another Divine war will break out…I’m too weak to fight on that scale again for now…’ Thoughts ran through their head as they contemplated the best way to get rid of the parasite.
“Too think while I was away another one formed…and succeeded in conquering a world at that…well this world is still in its infantile stage so its no wonder Tevyat couldn’t defend against its invasion.” Polaris jingled at the thought. It’d lost contact with the Tevyat world guardian during the summoning but the last it’d heard from it was that it had secured a location for the creator to enter undetected.
“Oh well you are indeed a tactile screen guardian…hmm a form will suit you better..you have earned a metamorphosis…”
If Polaris could cry it would be. The last metamorphosis it had occurred ages before the Void's fall. When Teyvat was in its early stages of creation. Upon the world's basic finish in the sandbox Polaris was gifted with a new form, the one it is in currently. "Let's get started them well head to this location you mentioned.." Polaris released a series of jingles in excitement and gratitude.
A golden glow slowly began to take over the creature's form much like when it first reappeared after the Divine One's return. The light began to mold its body to be larger. It even felt new appendages growing. As the light dimmed the once duosion looking seelie looked like a Reuniclus-seelie hybrid. Smiling at Polaris (Y/n) removed their hand and floated smoothly towards the screen displaying Teyvat.
"Come now Polaris it is time we return the true natural order..." Letting out a warble sound Polaris glided over to its creator in glee attaching itself to their back as they both melted through the screen.
Their surrounding became distorted and fuzzy before the glaze faded from their eyes. (Y/n) hummed in approval noticing they were on the summit of Dragonspine. The area was chilly at best, odd that the sheer cold didn't affect them. It also seemed as though the area was still sealed off. The Skyfrost Nail sat in the middle of a ruin. A few ruin guards could be seen from their place. "I sense a few lifeforms around.. Polaris would you be a dear and gather everyone for me..."
Said creature floated off their creator's back and moved in front of them before doing its best salute and speed off to gather the creator's of Teyvat that were around the summit. Watching the young screen guardian gather the slimes, hillichurls, and their large frost Lawachurl (Y/n) couldn't help but smile sadly. This world was in disarray because of their absence.
While yes, they were technically dead, that didn't mean they didn't blame themselves for what has become of one of their precious worlds. Not to mention their children also got caught up in this chaos doesn't soothe them either. A sigh left them as they floated upwards towards the platform where Polaris had gathered the creatures. It was a rather adorable sight if (Y/n) would say.
The lawachurl sat behind all the other creatures with most of the hillichurls sitting in its lap with the cryo-slimes seemingly bouncing in excitement. Holding back a laugh at the display (Y/n) smiled. "Hello everyone...I've been away for while haven't I..." A grunt could be heard from the frost lawachurl. "Yes I know it was sudden...and I'm aware of the situation regarding Celestia..."
The group of creatures seemed to start buzzing with various displays of anger or disapproval hearing (Y/n) mention Celestia. "Trust that it displeases me just as much if not more than all of you of their intrusion.. for now I will need you all to help me prepare the grounds...I plan to make this my reside here alongside you all but I'd like for everyone to feel comfortable and at home."
As they finished the lawachurl stood to its full height, some of the hillichurls scrambling to do the same, before bowing. The other hillichurls followed suit with the slimes doing their own attempted bow. "Oh there's no need to bow..hehe I may be divine but that doesn't mean you are below me.." At their words the creatures relaxed and waited. "I'll be sending out Polaris to gather the other Churlenas and slimes of the mountain and have him lead them here..." With that the gelatinous creature once again saluted before speeding off the cliff of the mountain in a glide.
Continuing the speech (Y/n) softly floated to the side to show the ruins "I will ensure everyone's safety and make sure to rid of any unwanted visitors...in the meantime could you all, except the slimes I have a special task for you in a moment, help with clearing the rubble and moving the ruin guards." Receiving an array of nods and puffs of agreement they couldn't help the large smile that appeared on their face. "While you all do that..if the slimes are able, I'd like for you all to attempt freezing me for as long as you can..."
The group of slimes seemed confused before (Y/n) chuckled as they explained," I need to get back in touch with world's elements and this is the best way I can think that doesn't involve me getting involved with the archons and celestia..." At this the slimes bounced happily. (Y/n) could tell the creatures felt honors that their divine creator wanted their help getting touch with the elements. "Alright then let's get started yeah..."
Floating towards the slime as they made a circle around them, the lawachurl and hillichurls began moving about removing rubble and pilling it up near the Skyfrost Nail. Taking a deep breathe before taking a meditative position with their hands clasped in their lap, (Y/n) then spoke," Let's begin.." With their signal given the slimes began to blow cryo infused frost onto them as a small slime bounced itself into (Y/n)'s lap producing a frosty mist.
This went on for a while before a soft ice blue aura began to form around (Y/n)'s head like a circlet before it spiked outwards like sharp teeth. The aura then shattered like glass before turning into a cloud of mist sinking into (Y/n)'s forehead. With a gasp they opened their eyes quickly feeling a subtle cooling sensation around their body before it faded away. "So this is cryo...it feels different...than I remember.."
The small slime in their lap wiggled before it bounced onto their head making a noise that can only be compared to as purring, but it sounded like glass on glass, as it practically snuggled until it was comfortable. Its actions sent a smile to (Y/n)’s face as they moved themselves into a standing position, not that their feet were touching the ground.
They took a deep breathe before exhaling, a frosty mist expelling from their mouth as the tips of their hair glowed a fluorescent ice blue. “It kind of tickles….” They said as they softly twirled ensuring the little slime was safe before they stopped in their original position.
The other larger slimes gave warped chirps as cheers of excitement. (Y/n) turned as they heard of grunt from the Lawachurl. It was standing a but behind them holding four deactivated ruin guards. The hillichurls were still piling small rubble into piles, though the larger pieces were accounted for.
“Oh place them here I have an idea of what to do with them…” Gesturing to the open space in front of them as they moved aside for the Lawachurl to pass and put down the ruin guards. Said creature then lugged the old machines to the designated spot and dropped them unceremoniously.
Looking over the machine they noticed that they all each were missing a part that the others had. “How intriguing….but as they are now they won’t really protect much if anything…” Floating around the machines inspecting them each in more detail. “I have an idea.” Reaching a hand into the first guard’s eye socket (Y/n) rummaged around before grabbing its core.
They repeated the process for the other three guards. The cores were blackened in their deactivated state, with a small pulse of their divine aura the devices lit up a bright (Favorite Color) before floating from their hands back into the eyes of the guards. The aura then spread throughout the ruin guards’ bodies as it encased them like a liquid.
It seemed to condense the machines bodies into the cores before each color melded together into a diamond shape. Floating over to the newly formed core (Y/n) grabbed it and all but excitedly zoomed towards the Skyfrost Nail. Looking at it with a barely hidden smirk they placed the core onto it.
At first nothing seemed to happen, but then the glow from the core seemed to be transferring into structure. This caused bright cracked to appear on it as the bright blue ice broke away in unassuming chunks together. “Now to finish the job…”
Gliding towards the chunks of ice like crystal they moved them into the desired position. Then (y/n) moved back grabbing the core again, and all but yanking it out of the nail, as the nail collapsed in on itself. Smiling at they saw the Domain’s entrance light up they moved back towards their “Ice-sculpture” placing the core in its center.
Tapping the four cores (Y/n) formed 3 and placed them near the other four. All seven cores were now forming a ··⋮·· symbol. Nodding at the work they smiled before switching to a more serious expression.
“Okay…this is the hard part…” Taking a deep breathe they infused their hands with cryo before placing them on the core once more. Focusing on it as the ice chunks melded together they made sure the cores were bonded to the ice structure before removing their hand and floating backwards a bit.
“If I’ve done this right I should hear a—“ As (Y/n) tried to finish their sentence a loud,”Du…dU…gi…ccceEE” sounded out through the area. The seven cores in the face of the structure blinked in a peculiar pattern ad they all then blinked in unison. The ice sculpture then proceeded to float upwards off the ground and stay there.
“Let’s welcome our newest protector of Dragonspine…” The ice construct released another series of beeps before flying off like Polaris did. “It will make sure that any unwanted guests stay out of Dragonspine…fortunately it’s programmed not to kill..” Hearing this the slime all gave a cheer of happiness. The hillichurls cheered as well and the Lawachurl giving a gruff hum of approval.
Smiling at them (Y/n) nodded their head before a sharp pain shot through their head and flashes of scenes and people’s faces flooded their vision before suddenly stopping. “So…I’m still connected to my earth consciousness….this will be helpful..they seem to still be playing the game…what a wondrous way to tell the future…”
Rubbed their forehead as the headache subsided they sighed in exhaustion. They told the creatures they were going to rest for a bit, making sure the small slime was back with the others for its safety. They then moved to a cliff edge of the ruin that was up high facing the border of Liyue and Mondstadt as they took a meditative position.
“I’ll rest here for a hours and try to contact Paimon…the little fairy should have felt my arrival…and I can only hope she’ll help Aether reach the summit soon…” They then closed their eyes letting the tiredness over take them as they fell a dreamlike state, though they were still aware of their surroundings incase their attention was needed.
“Just a bit more….then we will reunite my dears…”
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lunarmoonanons · 3 years ago
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Cat Magnetism
🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕
Quirk: Cat Magnetism
YN’s quirk is the strange attraction that brings cats to her automatically. Like a magnet effect that makes cats drawn to her. This quirk can’t be turned off by YN. It has a radius of 15 meters. No matter where YN is, the cats will find their way to be around her or on her, even if the doors and windows are locked.
YN cannot control the cats or command them. But they do feel affection for her.
🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕
YN opened her eyes as the sun illuminated her resting figure. Her hair was splayed around her pillow, eyes slightly crusted at the sides, and a heavy fluffy weight sat loafed on her chest. YN smiled, not needing to look down to know that the purring mass on her body was the neighborhood cat “Junes” napping on her. Bringing a hand to rest on his back, YN started to sit up and lean back on her headboard, much to the unhappy meow of Junes.
“I know, I know. But I need to actually get up.” YN sighed and looked around her room, like usual there were cats all over the room. All in various positions of relaxation.
It was like this every morning. Even though she was required by her landlord to lock the windows to at least try to keep the cats out of the building. But they would find their way inside, all feeling a compulsion to be around her. This morning she counted at least 20 cats around her room. None of them bothered to get up as she began her morning routine.
The cats only seemed to follow her when she entered her kitchen, respectfully leaving some cat food out for them. A large orange cat purred on her table as she enjoyed her coffee, her fluffy body vibrating as YN absentmindedly scratched behind her ear. YN’s day began as she made her way out the door toward her job.
Walking down the street, cats would either follow her or turn their attention to her. A circle radius of cats somewhat surrounded her, as YN got closer to the center.
~~~~
YN really loved her job. She was a counselor for children who needed therapy. Her specific therapy involved the cats she would attract for them to cuddle and play with. Helping them with sensory issues, or ptsd, or any ailment that needed them.
Her gym room had it’s windows and doors opened to the outside, instantly her presence called the cats from the center and outside indoors. Slowly her children started to make their way in as well. Each finding a furry companion to play with or cuddle. Some kids had begun to open up to each other and play together. But some others stay away in corners, not ready for such excitement. YN did her job to talk with them, counsel them, and give them a safe space.
There was a new face in one of the corners, a small girl with a cute little horn and pretty red eyes playing with a small black kitten. She looked scared and lonely, such a sweet tiny thing. YN made her way over to the girl, crouching down in front of her.
“Hi there sweetie. My name is YN, I see that you made friends with sniper here.” YN smiled at the girl. She didn’t look up, continuing to pet the kitten’s small fuzzy face.
“I’m impressed that you got sniper to warm up to you so quickly. He’s been so closed off that we began to get worried that he’d never make any friends.” The small girl looked up at YN. “He lost his mommy at a young age, and we had to rescue him from a bad man. But it all worked out. Now he’s made a new friend in you.”
This caused the girl to smile down at the cat. Giving him a tiny peck on the stop of his delicate head.
“Now that you know my name and sniper’s name, may we know your name?” YN gently prodded.
“.....Eri. My name is Eri.”
Now that was a familiar name. YN was caught up on the news about the Hassaikai Incident, and the innocent child that was saved. A few days ago, there was a call made to the center, informing of a new child that would come. When Eraserhead made that call, people became worried about the possible safety of the child. YN was the only worker who volunteered to take her under their wing.
“Well Eri, would you like to play with the other children? Or rather stay here and play with sniper?” Eri thought it over, before pulling sniper closer to her. YN rightfully interpreted her anxiety, and placed a gentle hand on the girls.
“Okay, you can stay over here today. Then tomorrow we can try to get more comfortable with the other children. Is that okay?”
Eri gave a small nod.
~~~
When the day was coming to a close, and the children left with their parents, YN stayed behind longer with Eri as they waited for her guardian to show. The cats all slept around the room, sniper curled up in Eri’s arms. The conversation between the two was interrupted by the entrance of Eraserhead.
YN made her way to the pro hero, shaking his hand.
“You must be very proud of Eri. She’s a very sweet girl, and was able to get our little problem child sniper to open up.”
“Eri’s a very special girl. I’m glad she was able to make a friend.” Aizawa smiled slightly at the woman in front of him. YN talked about Eri taking sniper home with her. But as much as he was interested in talking to YN, his attention was caught by the crowd of cats surrounding them.
YN caught on the confused expression on Aizawa’s face, and laughed slightly.
“Oh that’s just my quirk. Cat’s seem to be attracted to my aura or something like that. It makes my job easy when the kids want something soft to cuddle.”
Eri came to stand beside Aizawa, holding his large hand with her tiny one.
“Can YN come over for dinner?” Eri asked sweetly. Aizawa looked down at the girl, then back at YN with an eyebrow slightly raised in question.
“Oh alright. I’ll come for dinner. But you can’t get mad at me, when 20 or more cats break their way into your home.” YN laughed, as she walked out with them. Striding beside Aizawa, as he chuckled.
“I think that we can manage that. I might just keep you around to fulfill my obsession and need.”
“Oh so you’re gonna use me?” YN teased.
“Absolutely. You have no choice. You’re officially stuck on my side.”
Shouta had always had a small crush on the counselor. She was kind, funny, and brought herds of cats. What more was there to love?
So the three made their way to his home, YN and Shouta laughed whilst getting to know each other better. Small sparks burning between each other.
When they finally found themselves at his door, Shouta held the door for his girl, his crush, and several cats that had been following them. The night and dinner was lovely, Shouta made quite the impression on Yn and the cats.
The cats were very happy as she gushed to them about her new beau.
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illegal-heartbreaker · 2 years ago
Text
Grave Therapy {Larissa Weems}
Headcannon: that Larissa’s grave was never not decorated in different colour flowers, teddy bears and cards. There would always be at least someone at her grave talking to her and Larissa from the other side would sit next to them and respond even though she knows they can’t hear her.
Relationship: Larissa Weems x Nevermore Students
Warnings: angst, death & light talk of depression
Extra: stay safe and keep your mental, physical, spiritual and sexual health safe!
____________________________________________
Each student of Nevermore held a special memory with the old Principal, Larissa Weems and each for a different reason. But Larissa knew and remembered all of them, just like she knew all of her students. But it became very hard to continue making those memories when Larissa had passed away, and a new Principal had taken her spot. Though she was gone physically, she was still with each and every student in their hearts, much to Principal Thornhills dismay.
It was forbidden to go to the grave that held her body, but somehow it was always decorated with a variety of flowers, teddy bears and cards. But other than the presents that laid there, you were almost bound to find a student there talking to Larissa about anything but it was mainly to vent about their new principal or mental health. The main visitor to her grave was Enid Sinclair, who other than talked to her she maintained the site by watering, replacing and organising it and perhaps it was because Enid was the most affected by the death.
"Principal Weems? I've come again." Enid had called that afternoon during her spare period.
"I know you can't hear but I just need to vent, and you told me that if I ever needed to, to come to you." Larissa had sat on the side of the dead, waiting for someone to come and talk to her but this wasn't what she was expecting, usually Enid would've come happy but clearly something had happened.
"It's Thornhill! No teachers nor authorities believe us students when we tell them that it was her that caused it last year." Enid sobbed leaning on the tombstone. Larissa moved closer to the young girl, wrapping her arm around her.
"Dear, Wednesday and you believing is all that matters. You're the only ones that have the most mental strength and endurance to defeat her" She sighed, Marilyn wasn't a normie after all, that suspicion was now fully confirmed.
"She's been going extra hard on Wednesday and I'm scared, what if something dangerous happens to Wednesday?? I wish you were still here.." Larissa knew she'd never let Thornhill hurt a student not even the most troublesome, she'd protect them from the dead, because thats where loyalty lay. Others before herself.
"We aren't even allowed to go to therapy anymore!" The young girl cried burying her head in her knees. "It's getting worse, I'm trying hard! But it's hard to be hopeful anymore, Principal Weems.."
Larissa closed her eyes, it seemed that everything she had built had been destroyed after she had died. The guilt was seeping into her slowly.
"My dear Enid, as long as I'm dead you will be alive. I won't let anyone get in the way of my Nevermore children because you are all mine to look after but for now stay strong, if not for you, for me.." She made a wish to the stars to look after her Nevermore children whilst she figured something out.
Enid looked over at the spot where the tombstone was and smiled slightly, "I'm glad we have you Principal Weems, I'm not sure what we would've done without, " She whispered getting up from her hunched position, stretching and looking down, "I love you nevermore mum."
"Love you too nevermore daughter, go show them what you're made of." Larissa laughed watching as Enid had returned to her 'happy, cheery' self before turning away to plan an intervention in Marilyn's works.
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1d1195 · 3 years ago
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Therapy II
Part I
Warnings: 18+ content mentioned
“Do you even know any single guys?” She said knowingly. “I’m not doing this to mean, I honestly thought the idea of you finding your own date would be the death of you...”
So naturally she thought of the one date that would be the death of her. She muted her phone as her friend rambled.
“Harry,” she said breathlessly. He looked up at her with a grin and was about to ask her what was going on, but she continued hurriedly before her friend got suspicious. “I need you to be my date to my friend’s birthday dinner. Everyone is bringing a date and she’s about to set me up with someone I don’t even—”
“Sure, kitten,” he said sweetly without even missing a beat and then just looked back at his book. “Just write it on the calendar,” he told her. Then flipped the page.
*
Would you mind if I came and grabbed something to eat? Or you can bring it to me if you don’t mind. I just don’t want to bother you and your friends. The text message read.
Harry got up from the couch with his friends as they watched the game with intense gazes, they hardly noticed Harry had gotten up. I’ll bring it to you. He didn’t want his friends to see her and get any ideas. He needed to slowly introduce her. So, they didn’t drool over her. Plus, if she was still half naked, he would definitely start a fight over her. He grabbed the Tupperware from the fridge labeled Friday. She was really good at meal prepping and all that, so he heated it in the microwave.
“That smells good, you’re holding out on the good stuff, Harry?” Niall called over his shoulder not moving his eyes from the screen.
“S’not mine. S’not for you either,” he smirked.
“Oooh, is it for kitten,” Louis chuckled. They had heard about her since he moved in. “She on her way home?” He asked.
He wouldn’t lie to his friends. “Uh...no. She’s in her room.”
There wasn’t much that could pull Niall and Louis away from a football game. “Well, are you going to introduce us?” Niall wondered. This was the one thing that could pull them away. Harry had told them all about his sweet kitten and how she was going to be the death of him. They were anxious to meet her.
“No,” he said simply. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, the heated food from the microwave and he started down the hall for her room. He could hear them following. He stopped and turned. “Please don’t scare her,” he said and eyed them both. “I like living here.” They were smiling mischievously ready to ask her a hundred questions. They looked at each other.
“Scare her?” Louis questioned.
“We would never!” Niall continued.
Harry sighed. “Kitten,” he knocked on her door. “M’friends want to meet you.”
“Uh...” he heard a tiny clatter—the sound of her book hitting the floor. Niall and Louis waited impatiently behind Harry. Niall was grinning like a madman and Louis was rocking back and forth on his feet. They looked like children who just played a prank on their sibling. Not grown adults with real jobs that were about to meet their friend’s roommate.
A roommate so utterly pretty and lovely that his heart just twisted to think about not being near her after only a month of knowing her. “Just a second,” he could hear the rustle of her making her bed again and she was straightening. It seemed silly to do all that for his friends. But she was so good about being perfect. It made his heart flutter as he waited patiently. She pulled the door out of the way.
“M’sorry,” Harry said immediately and then he was shoved out of the way doing everything he could to keep her food from spilling all over the floor.
“Whoa,” Niall said simply. He was drinking her in. Harry wanted to kill him.
“Kitten, a pleasure to meet you!” Louis said quickly sticking his hand out to take hers and then kissed her knuckles. “We’ve heard so much about you. I simply cannot wait to have these brownies Harry won’t shut up about,” he said.
“M’very interested in the cupcakes, m’self,” Niall said and ducked his head to kiss her on the cheek. “Harry said you have a secret ingredient, and you won’t tell him,” he said.
She giggled cutely and Harry waited patiently to the side of the door while his friends ogled over his roommate. He felt awkward. With the exception of covering her, he tried to stay out of her room. There was one time with a spider, and a picture that needed hanging, but it was strictly business. “That’s right,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you both,” she said sweetly. “I offered to bake something, but Harry said no,” she explained.
They turned to him and looked utterly betrayed. “You denied her baking and us the products?” Louis asked.
“She doesn’t—”
“Kitten, if you ever want to bake something for me, do not let Harry stop you,” Niall said resting a hand on her shoulder. “He’s an idiot.”
She grinned. “I-I can still make something,” she said looking at Harry a bit nervously. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but she really would still bake something for them. Harry knew she would. He wasn’t denying her. He just really wanted to not bother her and take advantage of her kindness.
“No,” he said definitively. She was too much for him and he wanted to protect her. Even if she didn’t really need protecting from his friends. “Y’need to eat.”
“Oh yes, right,” Louis took the food from Harry’s hands. “The reason we’re in here. This smelled really good too, next time you make it, you should make extra,” he told her handing it to her with a wink. Niall took the water bottle from Harry and placed it beside her as well. He patted her head sweetly. Harry wanted to kill them.
“There ya go, kitten,” Niall smiled impishly and sat beside her on the bed. Harry really wanted to kill him.
“She’ll actually make y’some, don’t tease her about it,” Harry chided.
“S’pretty easy to make,” she told Louis and looked at Harry. “I don’t mind.” He rolled his eyes from the doorway—mad that his friends were invading her personal space while he felt like he couldn’t. “I can make something after I eat,” she said sweetly again.
“Y’don’t have to, kitten,” Harry said folding his arms over his chest.
“Stop denying her the pleasure of baking,” Niall said shaking his head. He looked right at her. “He’s so inconsiderate,” he rolled his eyes.
“The worst,” she said taking a bite of her food with a sweet grin and winked at Harry. He rolled his eyes but the wink in his direction melted another piece of his heart. He softened at her sarcastic joke and sighed heavily. He wasn’t going to win against his two best friends and the sweet girl he adored so much.
“Okay, well, we’ll let y’eat in peace,” he said, and he grabbed Louis by the shoulder as he ran his fingers over her books on the shelf. “D’you mind?” he grumbled pulling him from the shelf.
“She’s way too smart for you, Harold,” he told her knowingly. She giggled in response, but Harry swore he saw her cheeks pink at Louis’ assessment.
“Enough, Louis,” he said shoving him out of her room before he got any more ideas put in Harry’s head that would never be. They were just roommates...that was it. “Niall, pretty sure I heard a goal,” he said knowingly.
“Sorry, kitten, that’s my cue,” he said pecking her on the cheek again and then following Louis back to the living room. Jealousy coursed through his veins because while he had no problem pecking her with a kiss and being a bit affectionate—he wanted to be the only one to do that too her. It was irrational and stupid to feel that way.
“M’sorry,” Harry repeated shyly looking at her from the doorway.
“That was cute,” she giggled around another bite of food. “I like them,” she said sweetly. Of course she did. They were Harry’s friends. “I can make brownies,” she said.
He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to deny you of anything you want to do,” he said knowingly. She giggled cutely again. Harry loved that giggle. He would put it on a record if he could.
“I’ll be out in a bit...and not for nothing, Harry: my friends will be way worse when they meet you,” she said sighing heavily.
He smirked. He was grateful she understood that was annoying and hard to watch. “Can’t wait,” which was definitely, not a lie.
He closed her door so she could eat in peace without hooligans bothering her. He returned to the living room ready for the onslaught of questions. “She’s an absolute smoke show,” Niall whispered peering down the hall just in case she was listening.
“Shut up,” Harry practically growled. He agreed with him in some ways...but that wasn’t how he would say it. She was stunning, beautiful, alluring, captivating, he could go on. Smoke show sounded so juvenile compared to her beauty.
“No wonder y’don’t come out anymore,” Louis smirked. “I wouldn’t either if she was around,” he said wiggling his eyebrows at his friend.
“Seriously, shut it,” he repeated.
“We’re not going to take her from you, Harold,” Niall rolled his eyes. “Would be easy, but we won’t.” Harry bristled with annoyance but ignored his taunt if only because he knew both were happily taken. “No wonder you didn’t want us to meet her. She’s hot as hell.” They didn’t even know she was so much more than that.
“She’s not just hot,” he grumbled.
Louis smiled at his friend and winked at Niall. “Course not, Harry. She’s so sweet. We’re just teasing you. Take your time with her. We just like her, is all.”
And Harry was glad his friends liked her. “Y’won’t tell the others that she’s pretty, will you?” He asked them shyly.
Niall cheered as his team scored again. “No...that’s something they’ll need to see in person.”
“We’ll tell them she looks like a troll,” Louis promised with a grin. Harry glared at him and was about to tell him something mean when the object of all his affection appeared from her room and entered the kitchen.
“Do you want walnuts or anything in the brownies?” She asked putting her dish in the sink. Niall and Louis both looked at her and then turned to Harry. They stared at him with a knowing smirk. The same one on both their faces. They knew he was done for it was only a matter of time. So did Harry.
“Kitten, you are the sweetest,” Louis said simply.
*
Another month passed before Harry met her friends.
“Just ask him, he probably gets asked all the time!” It wasn’t her voice. He was barely awake having just woken from his coma nap. This was the last week before his vacation started. The one he so desperately needed, and he could feel it in every nerve of his body. It felt lame to start with a three-hour nap in the middle of the day, but he needed it. She warned him of her friends coming over.
“That is precisely why I will not ask him. He works all day. M’not gonna have him work when he gets home.”
“I bet he could get you to cum faster than anyone,” he heard the second voice say.
“When’s the last time you had an orgasm that your vibrator didn’t give you?” She wondered. The silence was deafening. Harry’s heart ached for her. “That’s tragic,” she said. It really was. “I want to give you one,” she said. Harry couldn’t argue with that either.
“Oh my God,” she said simply. “Why did I even invite you guys over?”
“We were supposed to meet Harry!” The other voice cried.
“He’s asleep,” she said. “He’s had a long week,” she said knowingly.
“Let’s go look at him!”
“You’re a fucking creep, no. In fact. Why don’t we go get dinner? You can meet him later.”
“Look, your roommate is chef? Instant food tester. Your roommate is a fashion designer? Free clothes. Yours is a sex therapist. You should be cashing in on free orgasms at least once a day. Maybe even twice. I bet he would love to give you one.” He couldn’t disagree with their assessment. He knew she was probably mortified. But he liked that idea too. Not because it made her uneasy, but because she was adorable, and they were right. He wanted to fuck her senseless, taste her, touch her, finger her, kiss her, breathe every part of her in and then do it again as soon as humanly possible. He wanted to make her feel good because she was stunning and lovely and he doesn’t know who decided in heaven he should meet her, but he would pray every night in thanks.
“It’s harder for some women,” she said knowingly. That was true and Harry would bet all the money he had that she had spent many nights scouring the internet for what was wrong with her. It was something he heard in his office all too frequently. He felt bad she did that. It probably made her apprehensive about having sex in general and he knew that was no way to live. It’s not like her friends were being all that loud, but Harry was on high alert for her as always. Listening to her talk was his favorite thing. Once a week she called her mum and chatted for well over an hour. It was one of his favorite times of the week to eavesdrop on part of the conversation just to listen the melodic voice. She sang in the shower in the morning, and it was by far the best way for Harry to wake up. She was dreamy. Every part of her.
Plus, the chance to learn some inside information about her? He was surely a happy camper.
He needed to make some noise though that he was awake and aware so they wouldn’t find out he was just eavesdropping on a very sensitive topic. He knocked his water bottle off his nightstand, so it clattered loudly. “Shit,” he hissed tiredly faking that he’d been asleep for the last few moments.
“Shit,” she repeated under her breath.
“Oh, thank god,” one of the other girls said quietly. Harry smirked.
“Hey kitten!” He called.
There was the distinct sound of someone smacking someone else and he swore she actually growled. “Hey!” She called back cheerfully.
“You still going out tonight?” He wondered yawning through the question. He always wanted to be an actor. He already knew the answer.
“Yeah...” she sighed. “Uh...my friends are here now, actually. They would like to meet you before we go if you’re...not busy,” she grumbled at the end.
He chuckled quietly. “Just a minute,” he said.
“Shut up, just shut up!” She hissed under her breath while Harry fixed himself a bit. “I swear to God...if you scare him off, you’ll be paying the other half of my rent,” she said glaring at her friends. One snickered and sipped the drink she had been milking since she got here waiting to go out. The other held her hands up defensively. She could see Harry coming down the hall before they saw him, and he grinned at her so sweetly it melted her in place. He was too handsome. Too smart. Too perfect. They were going to ruin this. Sleepy Harry was a treasure to behold. His cheeks a little puffy and his eyes were glassy green. He was just so sexy it ached her to the core. “Sorry,” she said quietly to the hallway.
Their bodies snapped to attention and turned to him. They froze in place at the sight of him. “Hi, ladies,” he said gently. “S’nice to meet you,” he said and stepped toward each one to give a hug and peck on the cheek. “Sorry, m’a bit affectionate,” he said sheepishly in greeting. She knew that all too well and it still made her utterly jealous of her friends to be the ones receiving Harry’s hugs. He was so warm and lovely. She knew it wasn’t fair, but it was Harry.
As he turned to her second friend the other looked back at her and her jaw dropped. Oh my God, she mouthed at her. She rolled her eyes and blew a breath out in exasperation. “We’re going to dinner and then maybe get some drinks after,” she said again reminding them of the plan and they would not be monopolizing Harry’s time.
“Sounds like a nice night, I’ll be here if y’need a ride home or something,” he said kindly.
“Ooh, we may have to take you up on that. Once she starts drinking it leads to dancing...once she starts dancing, it’s all over,” her friend giggled and the other followed suit.
“A dancer, huh?” He said mischievously eyeing her suspiciously. It melted her like butter on the spot. “Didn’t tell me you enjoyed dancing, kitten,” he remarked. “I have t’see that,” he chuckled.
She shook her head instantly. “You will not. I don’t enjoy it. Alcohol-in-me-me does,” she explained.
He laughed and her friends were in awe of him; nearly speechless thank goodness. “Please tell me there are videos,” he inquired the pair of friends as he leaned against the counter. He smirked at his sweet kitten. She was lovely and he would love to see her dance.
“Oh, Harry. We will definitely make sure there’s a video.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Okay on that note, we should get going.”
“Bye kitten, be careful,” he chuckled as she forcibly shoved her friends toward the door. “Don’t forget the video,” he stage-whispered.
“I heard that,” she grumbled.
“You were supposed to!” He sang.
The door slammed shut. “He’s so hot,” he heard it from behind the closed door.
“Don’t remind me,” she groaned. Harry smirked gathering the things he needed for his dinner tonight. He was grateful she wasn’t immune to him like he previously thought, and he smiled all night thinking of her little intoxicated self, dancing her little heart out. He prayed they remembered the video.
*
It wasn’t too bad at first. She had some food in her system, she had two drinks at dinner. They talked about their jobs, she explained she was doing really well and on track to earn a promotion by the end of the quarter. They only asked ten questions about Harry—she put a limit on the number allowed.
But then they made it to the bar. She never drank in excess so having more than three drinks...that was too much for her. Too much and she was too in love with Harry.
It was a stupid idea to think she could do this and not talk about Harry the entire time. Her friends found it entertaining knowing that she was long overdue for a guy that would treat her right and make her smile the way Harry did.
Drinking was supposed to take her mind off him, but naturally it only amplified the thoughts of green eyes, curly hair, and pink lips that seemed utterly too sinful. She had so many questions for him in her head that her sober mind would never ask. She never got drunk it was a great way for her to lose control of herself and she was terrified of looking stupid.
“I think I love Harry,” she pouted at her friends tossing her head back to get the last bit of her drink down. He was the only thing her brain could comprehend right now. The smile, the voice, the body. He was so smart and so sweet. He was created in a lab. Surely.
“I don’t blame you,” she giggled as she grabbed onto her friend to keep her from stumbling when she tossed her head back to stand straight. “He’s quite taken with you too, I think,” she said knowingly. She looked at her friend in surprise and shook her head hurriedly. There was no way he liked her. She was just his roommate. And he probably had sex appointments with girls that would cum just by him breathing on them.
“There’s no way he likes me,” she grumbled bitterly asking for another drink from the bartender but unbeknownst to her, her friend signaled for it to be a water. She downed that drink as soon as it was in her hand too.
Her other friend had her phone for safe keeping. She saw long before she needed to that the phone was going to get lost...or she was lost...or she would accidentally call Harry and confess her love to him. “Don’t worry. We won’t tell him.” She promised.
*
“Hi, kitten. Having fun?” He asked answering the phone on the second ring when he saw her name pop up on his screen interrupting the music he was listening to while he read. A quiet Friday night.
“Hi Harry,” her friend said with a giggle. “She is very drunk.”
He chuckled standing up immediately, marking the page in his book, shutting off the lights and making his way toward the door to put his shoes on. “Dancing?” He asked, grabbing his keys off the table by the door as he started for the lobby of the apartment building.
“Oh, so much,” she said. “She won’t leave with us. She says you have to get her. Normally we would fight her...drag her into the Uber...but—”
His heart fluttered at the idea she wanted him and no one else. He could only think about how she said his name in her sleep. She must have liked him as much as he liked her. Well...probably only almost. There was no way anyone, in the history of mankind, liked anyone as much as he liked her. “Oh, she’s going t’hate that in the morning,” he chuckled. “Be there soon, just text me the address.”
*
“Harry!” She cheered the second she caught sight of him. The bouncer had barely put a stamp on his hand when she took off running toward him. She was quick for a tipsy thing. Didn’t even stumble. Her friends shook their head at her as she bolted away from them, but they were just grateful she was no longer trying to climb the table. They looked at Harry gratefully as they waved at him.
“Oof,” Harry grunted catching her as she finally made it to him. This was perhaps the best, most sweetest thing he had ever experienced in his entire life. Her body felt so warm against him, and he was aching to hold her like this and while he wished she was sober for it, he would forever thank their alumni association for setting up those profile pages just for the chance to hold her like this. If he wouldn’t worry about her liver for the rest of his life, he would have considered letting her get drunk every day just to have her catapult herself at him every night. “Well, hi,” he chuckled wrapping one arm around her waist and rubbing his free hand up and down her back as she nuzzled her face into his chest.
“I missed you,” she said into his shirt. He would have been okay with the world ending right in that moment if it was the last thing to ever happen to him. If she was the last person to ever speak to him and say those words.
His heart sang and he nodded with the happiest smile on his face. He probably looked utterly smitten and stupidly in love and he didn’t care because he really was. She was so lovely. “Missed you, too, kitten,” he chuckled, and her friends handed off her phone to Harry.
“Good luck, Harry,” she said shaking her head.
“He didn’t see me dancing, right?” She asked nervously turning back to the pair of them. They snorted with laughter shaking their heads. One turned back for the bar.
“Not this time,” he answered with a smirk. “Maybe next time.”
“Oh, you’re taking her out then, if there’s a next time.”
That was fine by Harry.
*
“A date?!” She asked her phone as she tossed her dishes in the sink and looked to the calendar hung on the side of the fridge. In a week she had a date that she didn’t even ask for. A date for her friend’s birthday dinner at some fancy restaurant. “M’sorry, have you met me?” She wondered. Hearing the d-word sent him spiraling because he thought he would implode seeing another man pick her up from their apartment...or worse bring her home. “Well...why do I have to have one? S’just...” She glanced at Harry who hadn’t even moved hearing her words.
“We have one lined up for you,” her friend said.
She gaped. “You...you have one for me?” She asked incredulously.
“You remember him,” and she gave a description of the guy from one of their shared upper-level accounting classes. He was fine. But he wasn’t Harry, and she hadn’t spoken a word to him since their class.
“M’not going with him. Please tell me you didn’t ask him.”
“You have to go with someone!” She said. “Everyone else has a date!”
“Don’t remind me,” she groaned. “Can’t I bring someone I know?” She wondered.
“Do you even know any single guys?” She said knowingly. “I’m not doing this to mean, I honestly thought the idea of you finding your own date would be the death of you...”
So naturally she thought of the one date that would be the death of her. She muted her phone as her friend rambled.
“Harry,” she said breathlessly. He looked up at her with a grin and was about to ask her what was going on, but she continued hurriedly before her friend got suspicious. “I need you to be my date to my friend’s birthday dinner. Everyone is bringing a date and she’s about to set me up with someone I don’t even—”
“Sure, kitten,” he said sweetly without even missing a beat and then just looked back at his book. “Just write it on the calendar,” he told her. Then flipped the page.
She felt tongue-tied as she processed his reply before she finished her explanation. “You will?” She said in surprise. He nodded easily while he continued reading. “Y’don’t have to if you—”
“Kitten, I’d love to, your friend is on the phone,” he reminded her. Truthfully, he wanted to pick her up and spin her around because the idea of being her date sent him to the moon, around the solar system, and all around their apartment. So being short with his response was his only saving grace along with the cover of hiding behind the pages of the book he was now only pretending to read.
“Harry will go with me!” She said quickly into the phone. It was quiet for a moment as she interrupted her friend’s rambling while she thought that over.
“Harry is still single?” She said back in shock.
She sighed heavily. “Yes.”
“For the love of God, will you please fuck him already and get it over with?” she begged. Her face turned bright red, and she turned toward the fridge so Harry wouldn’t see. “You deserve a certified sex therapist orgasm as much as a certified sex therapist date.”
“I am not going to do that.”
“We’ll see...tell Harry he needs a suit. I bet you don’t even last through dinner.”
*
She was wrong. She did last through dinner. But only because Harry had to come straight from work to meet them at the restaurant so he would get there on time. She imagined if they had gotten ready together at home, she might not have made it. She waited outside the restaurant while her friends checked in at the hostess stand when Harry started walking up.
To say he looked like a model would have been an insult to him because he simply should have been on every cover of every fashion magazine on the planet. He looked like a James Bond double, and she desperately wanted to leave the party before it started and somehow find the strength to convince Harry that they should make out for the rest of the night. He was sexy, handsome, and she was floored he agreed to be her date. It took every bit of her strength to keep her jaw from unhinging.
Harry didn’t see her waiting outside yet. He was adjusting his jacket, his hair, his watch, everything before he entered the restaurant hoping he wasn’t late. He wanted to make a good impression on the whole group of friends and wanted to look good for his lovely kitten. When he finally looked up at the entrance he nearly stopped in his tracks. His heart actually skipped a beat and he blinked in surprise as she sent a little wave in his direction.
Breathtaking was an understatement. Angelic was insulting. Beautiful was too mundane. There was literally not a word that described how gorgeous she looked. Her hair flowed in wavy curls around her face making her look like a princess. Her skin glowed in contrast to the bright blue of her dress.
Oh, the dress.
A slit ran up her thigh and he wanted to follow it with his tongue. It hugged every curve of her body so tastefully. Harry wasn’t even an artist, but he felt the need to paint her. He had to remind himself that getting excited to meet the rest of her friends would not be appropriate. He cleared his throat and continued forward.
“Wow, kitten,” he said softly as he made it to her side. He could feel his entire heart melting in his chest, and he knew he wouldn’t make it through the night without telling her his feelings. “You look...” he shook his head. “Captivating,” he decided on. It still was a gross understatement, but it would suffice. He took her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss her knuckles.
She smiled, her cheeks warming at his appraisal. “Captivating, huh?” She asked shyly.
“Extremely. You always are...but...” he murmured looking over her face. She was covered in makeup, and he wanted to say she didn’t need it, but it looked like the most beautiful painting on her face and only enhanced how gorgeous she was...and enhanced how much he adored her. “Gonna upstage the birthday girl,” he smiled knowingly. He kept his hand in hers, used his other hand to trace her palm and fingers with his fingertip.
“You look incredible,” she told him and squeezed his fingers.
“M’not late, am I?” He asked nervously unable to take his eyes off her face.
“No, I just...didn’t want you to have to walk in alone. You’re doing me a huge favor here,” she reminded him. “Another couple is just a few minutes behind...the birthday girl is arriving a bit after that.”
His heart continued to melt at her thoughtfulness as she explained the situation. “Y’didn’t need to wait, kitten,” he said softly. She nodded simply.
“Yeah...I really did,” she said softly and squeezed his fingers again. He knew they must have looked idiotic standing outside the restaurant gazing at each other like lovesick idiots. But it was the best thing that could have happened to him in that moment. “Plus...m’not big on heels and you’re gonna have to make sure I don’t trip walking in there,” she smirked.
He grinned and nodded. “Don’t worry, kitten,” he said softly, placing a secure hand on her lower back as he opened the door for her and ushered her inside. His hand was just above the curve of her dress that extenuated the bum. “I won’t let you fall.”
But she knew it was already a lie.
*
Her friends that had already met him were not surprised he cleaned up nice. The others took to him warmly, the men in the group intrigued by his line of work to say the least. Harry was wonderful, not that this surprised her. She knew she was staring at him and her friends pointed this out by repeatedly taking turns to tap her shin under the table.
Dinner seemed endless.
Harry kept his hand in her lap for the better part of the evening while they weren’t actively eating. Squeezing her fingers as a reminder he was beside her while they chatted with her friends. When she was eating her dessert, Harry had opted for an after-dinner tea and so he let his hand rest on her thigh, letting his thumb stroke careful circles against the fabric of her dress and making her ache to her core further.
But finally, Harry was ushering her to the car, opening her door like the gentleman he was and making sure her dress was all inside before closing the door. He grinned at her as he pulled out of the parking lot making the short trip back to their apartment. They were quiet, and bravely she reached out and put her hand on his thigh rubbing a small circle against his pants. He thought he might crash the car. Instead, he put his fingers through hers and held it there while he made it home.
He held each of the doors as they walked up to their apartment, hand in hand. Again, they were silent but happy. She giggled at him when one of their neighbors asked if she won the beauty pageant and Harry responded “yes, absolutely,” very quickly and enthusiastically.
“I gotta get these heels off,” she said as soon as they were inside. He chuckled at her taking a seat on the couch, untying his shoes and undoing his bowtie while she went to the kitchen to put her leftovers in the fridge and started untangling herself from her strappy heels. Her phone started vibrating. The birthday girl—must have forgotten something or needed some picture ASAP.
“Yes?” she said tapping the speaker button as she started with the second strap of her shoe.
“Please tell me you’re going to beg Harry to fuck you now that you spent the entire night eye-banging him,” she said.
“Oh my God,” she choked out in shock. Her fingers locked her phone as she attempted to tap every button her screen desperately trying to hang up. She fell to the floor in a mess of her shoes, purse, her leftover bag tipping, her phone...her stupid phone. She was shaking trying to stop her friend from revealing any more secrets.
“You deserve an actual orgasm, my friend--,” she said knowingly.
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” She hissed at the phone.
“Especially from a sex therapist! He even looked like he was ready to give you one at the table in front of everyone.” She finally managed to hang up her phone and promptly threw it across from her seat to the dining room. She pressed her hands to her face and tried to quell the emotion in her throat before she threw up or cried or both. She refused to look up. If she looked up, she was afraid Harry would laugh at her or make fun of her...or worse...reject her.
He cleared his throat after a moment. “Kitten,” he said softly. She shook her head trying to not hear him. She wanted to die right there. How embarrassing.
“She’s—” she could hardly breathe.
“Kitten,” he whispered again kneeling beside her. He grabbed her food and set it flat for the moment.
“Harry,” she croaked embarrassedly. “I’m...” her lips were moving trying to figure out what to say to make this moment less horrible.
“Kitten,” he said firmly, and he tilted her chin up so she would look at him. “M’gonna kiss you, now,” he told her rubbing his thumb over her lower lip. Her breath caught in her throat, and she didn’t trust her voice at all, so she just nodded.
As good as Harry looked, he tasted even better.
His lips moved over hers so expertly she knew she would be done for if she asked him what her friend suggested. He was gentle but firm and of course the ache between her legs was amplified by her need to taste him for as long as possible.
He pulled away briefly looking to get her shoe off and he pulled her to her feet. She was only standing a moment before he somehow managed to weave his arm through the slit of her dress, drape it away from her body so he could scoop her up and place her on the counter. He settled his waist between her hips and cupped the sides of her face before he kissed her deeply again. She wound her legs around his waist and wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer to her pulling him in with her legs.
“Bedroom?” He asked. She nodded, still unsure of her voice. “Hey kitten?” He wondered between kisses as he carried her down the hall to her room.
“Yeah?” She asked nervously.
“You don’t have to beg,” he said impishly. She wrinkled her nose at him and smacked him against the chest as he placed her on the bed carefully. He chuckled at her which caused her to giggle. “I’ve been dying t’give you an orgasm since I move in.”
“Just kiss me again, Harry,” she said.
“Anything you want, kitten.”
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cookinguptales · 2 years ago
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veggiesforpresident said: wait whats up with irl cult deprogramming?
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*long sigh* 
Okay, to preface all this, here’s a massive content warning for pretty much everything you can think of. I’m happy to talk more about this subject, but it gets very heinous very fast.
The main issue with the actual IRL cult deprogramming movement was that it was headed up by fundie Christians, and they were the ones who were allowed to decide what constituted a cult and what measures were necessary to get someone out of one.
I think people have this mental image of a bunch of trained professionals using therapy to convince someone to not be in a cult anymore, but that’s... not what it was.
The fact of the matter is that cult deprogrammers used and abused laws designed to protect the mentally ill in order to strip healthy, able-bodied adults of their legal rights. Think about Britney Spears for a few minutes and you’ll start to see how this became very dangerous very fast.
Parents of adult children in New Religious Movements (NRMs, the less-loaded academic term for “cults”) would often lobby judges to have their children labeled as legally incompetent and incapable of making their own decisions so they could get them out of these groups. The problem was, the only evidence you really needed of your child’s “insanity” was that they’d joined the group to start with.
And people always imagine... you know, Jonestown. Children of God. Truly heinous, dangerous groups. But if we’ll all kindly remember the Satanic Panic, the fact of the matter was that anything non-mainstream conservative Christian could be considered a cult.
Sure, it’s imperative to get someone out of something like The Family. But like... what if your kid is just kind of a hippie? What if they’ve joined some kind of pseudo-Buddhist New Age group? What if they’ve joined a socialist club at their university? What if they��re just kinda goth?
What if they’re gay?
Once these adults were stripped of their legal rights, their parents could do pretty much anything to them. That usually involved hiring a deprogrammer. That deprogrammer would then literally kidnap them (I’m talking throwing people in vans) and then drive them to an isolated location. They would then do anything they could to “break” the person. The goal was to break them so they could then build them back up the “right” way -- in other words, using the exact same tactics as the most dangerous NRMs.
These were not trained professionals, mind. These weren’t social workers or something. These were just random assholes who had the stomach for it. We have records of brutal beatings. Tying people up and denying them food, water, and sleep for days. Extreme emotional and physical abuse. Rape.
The worst case I can think of is that of Stephanie Riethmiller. She was a 19-20yo woman who had distanced herself from her parents after she left home for college, for reasons which I think will become immediately apparent. Her parents believed it was because she’d entered into a lesbian relationship with her roommate and had been led astray. So they hired cult deprogrammers to “fix” her. Stephanie was maced and thrown into a van and driven to another state, where she was chained up, beaten, and “correctively raped” for five days straight. Her parents were there in the house and approved of all of it.
After Stephanie was released, she attempted to bring charges against her parents and the people who had abused her, but the courts basically argued that any means were necessary when it came to deprogramming a lesbian. Despite not denying what they did, all parties got away with it. No jail time was served. This happened in 1982 in my hometown of Hamilton County, Ohio. 🙃
Ted Patrick, the quintessential cult deprogrammer, was involved in all of this. He didn’t do this deprogramming himself, but when her parents reached out to him with thousands of dollars, he recommended the people who did, helped make arrangements, and was paid for it.
They made a Drunk History episode about him calling him a hero and I just about threw up.
I guess the thing about cult deprogramming is... again. Who’s deciding what is and isn’t a cult? Who’s deciding what “deprogramming” looks like? Who’s deciding how far you can legally go? Who’s deciding what “normal” is?
I’ll leave you with this. Think about Fox News. Think about these fucking Republicans getting all het up over ~your children~ going to college. Learning new things. Becoming socialists. Becoming atheists. Becoming “brainwashed” by the libs.
Think about all this rhetoric about “groomers”.
Then think about a court system that will allow your insane, weirdo QAnon parents that you’ve gone no contact with to track you down and “reverse” all that by any means necessary.
Think about how terrifying that concept is if you’re part of literally any marginalized group.
And that was just... the late 70s through early 90s. People were so whipped up by things like the Mansons in 1969 and Jonestown in 1978 and the Satanic Panic of the 80s that they would allow people to do anything if they said it was going to be protecting people from cults.
Anything.
And they did.
And that’s why I fully believe that, as dangerous as some NRMs truly are, as vile and abusive and life-ruining? Yeah. The deprogrammers were often just as bad.
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karmic-vibes · 2 years ago
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Hawkins Memorial to Rescue Personnel
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
part 3 to the nurse steve au!
cw: mentions of suicidal ideation, mentions of drug use, drug relapse, failed unalive attempt, mentions of AIDS
wc: 2.1k
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5
———————————————————————
“I don’t wanna be here,” Eddie mumbled.  “I don’t care,” Steve murmured. “If you want any chance of living past a few years, you need to give up some bad habits.”
“What’s so bad about letting the drugs kill me first?” Eddie rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and sat back in his seat. 
“Ed, stop… that’s not funny…”
“Sorry,” he sighed. 
“Edward?” 
“Right here!” 
He hauled himself out of the seat and reached back for Steve’s hand, encouraging him to follow. The pair walked into the therapy office and took a seat on the couch. Eddie shuffled his way closer to Steve, trying to snuggly sit next to him. Steve gently placed a hand on Eddie’s thigh, rubbing his thumb up and down. 
“How’s everyone doing today?” The therapist asked. 
“I’m here so, kinda shitty.”
“Watch the attitude,” Steve warned. “Sorry, he’s upset.”
“I would be too if I was getting sober. It’s not really a pleasant experience for anyone,” she chuckled dryly. “So, I’m Dr. Axen, but you can call me Melissa, if you’d prefer. I’ve been an addiction specialist for thirteen years, and I’ve been told I’m good at what I do, so hopefully we can help you out here, darling. Tell me a little bit about yourself.”
“Well, I’m Eddie and I’ve been using since I was fifteen or so—started drinking a bit younger. Everything really got out of hand when I made it big in music and started touring and all that fun stuff.”
“And what made you finally come in today?” Melissa asked. 
“This one,” gesturing to Steve, “insisted.”
“You’ve OD’d twice under my care, Ed. I-I can’t physically watch you go through it again.”
“Yeah, fine, whatever, let’s just do this so he shuts up.”
“Eddie,” Melissa started, “sobriety is a big step that you have to want to make. It can’t be for anyone else. It needs to be for you.”
He sat and pondered for a bit, the tip of his tongue peeking through his mouth as he anxiously tapped his foot a mile a minute. He glanced at Steve, then back at Melissa—he couldn’t believe what he was about to admit. 
“It is for me,” he said. “I may not want to be sober—hell, who does? But I want to be with Steve. I want to be able to…” He chewed at his bottom lip and scoffed. Fuck it. “I wanna be around long enough to marry him. Have gorgeous children with him. Go to stupid PTA meetings and watch him argue about the nutrition content in school lunches. I want us to own a home together. I want us to have a life. And… fuck,” he chuckled. “I can’t do any of that if I’m still actively using. So… yeah… I’m ready, doc.”
Eddie couldn’t look at Steve. He knew he’d be staring at him with teary eyes and his stupid well-maintained glossy lips. Eddie knew that, while they had only been dating a few weeks (and they hadn’t even put an official title on it) he wanted Steve to be his, forever. He wanted someone he knew could handle him at his worst—so for him… Steve was it. 
“Eddie…” Steve finally whispered. 
“Well, it’s true…” he shrugged. 
“We don’t– we’re not–”
“No, I know, but… I like you, Steve. I’ve done a lot things, dated– well, slept, with a lot of people. I’ve never found them attractive in the same way I find you. I never wanted to be confined to the restraints of marriage, but with you, I never want to do so much as look at another guy. I’ve had my handful of pregnancy scares with chicks I used to hookup with. Never, not once, have I ever wanted children, but with you? God, I want a million of them. I wanna do all the mundane, stupid things with you, and only you.”
“So how many kids are we talkin’?” Steve chuckled out a sob. 
“However many you want, pretty boy,” Eddie beamed. 
“So you’re ready to give it up? Give it all up?”
“Yeah… I am…”
Throughout the rest of the session, Melissa set up a care plan and a realistic timeline for him to get clean (without rehab). Since Steve worked in healthcare, she was hoping he’d be there to help Eddie stick to his plan. 
Even though Melissa said not to undergo too much change at once, Eddie insisted Steve moved into his McMansion. The two had been living under the same roof for nearly five months and Steve couldn’t have been happier. The change was initially difficult for Eddie, but with Steve’s help, he was able to adapt. 
“Okay, I’m heading into work,” Steve said, collecting his belongings before heading out for his biweekly double shift. “You need anything before I go?”
“A kiss?” Eddie pouted. 
“Okay, besides that?” Steve smirked. 
“Nothing, I think I’m alright.”
“Well then…” Steve leaned down and pulled Eddie in for a kiss. “I love you. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m at work. I’ll rip you a new one if I find you in my ER,” he teased. 
“I won’t.” He rolled his eyes. “I love you too, pretty boy.”
Steve headed into his shift and it was more or less the same—drunkards and traumas. During the second half of the shift, he set up shop at intake and listened to the EMS radio. He worked his way through his reports, making polite conversation with the staff that passed by him. Suddenly, his ears perked up when he heard another waste-oid being brought in over the radio. 
“Rescue 5 to Hawkins Memorial.”
“Go ‘head, Rescue 5.”
“We’re ten minutes out with a possible overdose. Patient is approximately a twenty-five year-old male—response to physical stim only, but borderline completely unresponsive. Not oriented to person, place, time, or event. Twenty of narcan was pushed—patient is still in respiratory failure. Two lines running wide open with ringers. We’ll update you with any new information.”
“Thank you, Rescue 5. Trauma room six is open—bring patient in upon arrival. I’m paging the doctor now.”
“Received, thank you.”
“Christ,” Steve scoffed. “Wheeler, incoming to six!” 
“Shit,” she seethed. “Drunk?”
“Overdose.”
“Shocker.” She took a sip of her water and paged a handful of staff to help. “How’s your night going?” she asked. 
“It’s fine. Same old Sunday. You know how it goes.”
“Unfortunately I do. How’s the hubby?”
“Wonderful,” he beamed. 
“Yeah?” She raised a brow. “Sobriety’s treating him well?”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
“What’s he like sober?”
“More or less the same,” he chuckled. “He’s a total dweeb, but super sweet. I can’t describe it, but he’s literally my other half—everything I’m not.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re happy and things a–”
“Rescue 5 to Hawkins Memorial.”
“Go ahead, Rescue 5.”
“We’re five minutes out.”
“Received.”
“God, I’m not looking forward to this. Overdoses are always my least fucking favorite. They’re just so heartbreaking. Watching addiction win like that, you know?” Dr. Wheeler sighed. 
“Yeah, I know.”
“What would you do if Eddie–”
“Don’t… please, don’t…”
“Right, sorry. Finish up whatever you were doing and join us in six, alright?”
“Will do, doc.”
Steve jotted down the last of his narrative as the EMS crew burst through the doors with the patient. Steve shook his head in disbelief as he collected his paperwork, already anticipating being stuck with babysitting duty. When he slid the door open, Nancy whipped her head around and tried pushing him out of the room. 
“What are you doing? You told me to help out.”
“You can’t be here,” she panicked.
“Um… doc, last time I checked this is my job.”
“Steve, take my word for it. Get out.”
“Dr. Wheeler, with all due…”
Then Steve saw him. 
He was pale. Lifeless. Saliva was pooled around the corners of his mouth as vomit stained his shirt and matted his hair. There was an intubation tube shoved down his throat as two of the EMTs took turns ventilating him and suctioning out the tube. 
To the untrained eye, one might’ve thought he was a corpse. Dead. Past the point of no return. 
Steve had seen him overdosed before, but never to this degree. He never thought he’d have to see his love like this. But alas, there they were. 
His pile of paperwork fell to the floor as Steve tried running to the bed, but was quickly held back by security. Steve screamed in agony as his body went limp, tears spilling down his face. 
“No!” he cried. “Eddie, no, please!” 
Anguish plagued his body as he wept for his partner. He hiccuped out a sob as security carried him out to the staff break room. They sat him up in a chair and set down a box of tissues before heading out. 
Steve had no words. He was doing so well—what’s happened? He said he was ready to give it all up, but there they were… back at square one. 
When Eddie was stable enough to be moved to a normal room (which took a few hours), Dr. Wheeler retrieved Steve to join his partner. Before heading in, the two stood outside the room—he needed to know what happened before facing him. 
“How bad is it?” Steve sniffed.
“Well… his left lung collapsed…” Tears pooled in Steve’s eyes as he cupped his mouth in his hands. “There was a lot of built up scar tissue. Has he been coughing a lot at home? Showing any signs of pneumonia or anything?”
“Not that I’ve noticed,” Steve choked out, voice breaking. 
“Then he must’ve been hiding it really well. How’s his condition being handled?”
“He’s on a lot of meds, but he always told me he was fine.”
“I’ll try and get his reports from the archives, alright?” Steve nodded. “He has a non-rebreather on right now, so just be mindful of that.” He nodded again. 
“Better than an intubation tube, I guess,” he sniffed.
“He’ll be okay, Steve… I promise.”
“You can’t promise anything,” he spat. “God, why would he fucking do this. He was doing so well.”
“I don’t know, sweetie… you’ll just have to ask him when he wakes up.”
She pat his shoulder before excusing herself back to the main ER floor. Steve reluctantly went into the room and took a seat next to Eddie’s bed. He laid back in the chair and waited for him to wake up. 
At nearly eight in the morning, Eddie stirred awake, trying to make sense of where he was. He blinked aimlessly a few times before noticing Steve. His heart sank as he glared up at the ceiling. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 
“Why’d you do it, Ed?” Steve wasted no time. 
“I coughed up blood… I panicked, Stevie… I’m so, so sorry.”
“The doctor said you have scar tissue built up… why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well? You’re not in this alone, Eddie. We could’ve done something.”
“There’s nothing we can do, Steve!” Eddie yelled, shortly leading to a coughing fit and gasping for air. 
“Breathe…” Steve sighed, checking his oxygen’s flow rate. “Ed, you need to come to terms with death. I’m not saying from AIDS, I’m saying in general. Yes, one day, you’re going to die. I’m going to die. Everyone dies. Yeah, it sucks, but it happens. Alright?” Eddie pouted, still trying to catch his breath. “You need to tell me when you’re not feeling well so we can do preventative treatment, not reactive like this, okay? And so you don’t freak out and relapse,” Steve teared up. “I can’t lose you… not like this, Eddie.”
“But Steve,” he wheezed, “if I’m going to die, I wanna do it on my own terms…”
“This isn’t the way, Eds… think about me… please. Watching you slowly try to repeatedly kill yourself is so hard for me to...” he trailed off. “You suffer, I suffer—it fucking sucks, Eddie. Dear lord, it’s more painful to watch you do this to yourself than it would be to watch a disease take you. At least, with the disease, you can’t help it—you just have to let it happen and fight like hell to stay. But this? Eddie this isn’t you… you can’t be known for going out like this.”
“But why, Steve?” he choked out. “I run… that’s what I do… I’m no fighter.”
“Knock that off,” he cried. “Please, for me, go fo rehab… get clean… I can’t stand watching you do this to yourself. I think it’s killing me faster than it’s killing you.”
“I’m sorry, Stevie, I… I can’t–”
“Hey, hey, hey…” Steve whispered as he cupped Eddie’s cheeks, wiping away his stray tears. “Yes, you can. You can and you will. For me… please, Eds… I can’t lose you…”
“But, Stevie…” he choked out, “I don’t wanna be here anymore…”
———————————————————————
taglist: @steviesbicrisis @adaed5 @harringtonshairychest @manda-panda-monium
a/n: i know it’s sad right now!!! but please stick around for the next part, it will get better! im not a total monster, i swear.
ANYWAYS, it’s not stated directly, but this is taking place in ‘91/‘92, so eddie would be 25. i also like to think it took steve 5 years to finish undergrad bc he acknowledged he needed more time and that’s okay—normalize adding more time onto your education to suit your own academic needs!!!!
as always, please lmk if tumblr glitched and some things are repeated/deleted (indicated by weird jumps that don’t make sense)—ill fix any errors asap.
i hope everyone enjoyed. please lmk if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist for the next part 🫶🏻
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theycallme-thejackal · 2 years ago
Note
In honor of me recently having a manic episode, can I request a fic of Midge going through one because of how much pressure she is under and Lenny being the only reasonable that sees she’s not crazy and in need of being locked in an insane asylum, instead she just needs extra help
Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated T Warnings: Mentions of electroshock therapy and commitment to an asylum
Lenny stares at Joel, feeling rage bubble up in his chest.
He's often wanted to punch Joel Maisel in the last six months. The guy is a schmuck. They're never going to be buddies. But the implication that something is so wrong with Midge is so offensive to Lenny that he has to fold his arms across his chest to keep from decking his girlfriend's ex-husband.
"No," he growls.
"Lenny, this isn't normal!" Joel shouts. "She's talking a mile a minute, she's making rash decisions, she snaps at the drop of a hat - "
"I'm not having Midge put in one of those places."
"You're not her husband," Joel digs.
"And neither are you," Lenny reminds him. "And you'd be hard pressed to get Abe to agree to send his daughter to an asylum."
Joel glowers at him. "She needs help."
"That, we can agree on," Lenny says. "But sending her to a nuthouse where all they'll do is pump her full of drugs and shock her into oblivion is not the answer."
"That's not what they do!" Joel protests.
"No? Because I have a distinct memory of being strapped to a table and electrocuted twice a week for about three months."
Joel stares at him, still angry, maybe at being called out on his lack of understanding, maybe just at Lenny's very existence. "I don't want her around the kids right now," he says sternly.
"Good fucking luck with that," Lenny drawls, choking back a laugh at the idea.
"I'll go to a judge. They'll see what's going on with her and give me custody like that." He snaps his fingers.
"You won't," Lenny retorts, calling the younger man's obvious bluff. "Firstly because you're not as much of a bastard as you pretend to be, but more importantly because you've got another kid coming up any day now, and you're going to need the help."
“Joel.” Lenny turns when he hears Abe’s voice in the foyer, and Joel looks like he’s just been caught with his pants down. An amusing sight to say the least. “Miriam is fine. Her family, which you are no longer part of, will deal with the situation.”
“I’m more family to her than he is!” Joel shouts, jerking a thumb at Lenny.
“You may be the father of her children, but you are not her family anymore. You gave up any claim to her when you decided to shtup your secretary.”
Joel shoots a dirty look at Lenny before looking back at Abe. “So you’re just gonna let some junkie make decisions about your daughter’s health?”
“I’m going to let Miriam make her own decisions. She is thirty years old, she is self-sufficient, and I believe she has earned that right. Now leave,” Abe repeats more sternly than Lenny has ever heard him.
Lenny sees Joel’s jaw clench, and fortunately the younger man follows instructions, leaving the apartment with a slam of the door. Lenny exhales a long breath. “Thank you, Abe.”
“Always a pleasure to kick Joel out of my home,” the older man responds, moving into the room. “So what are we going to do for Miriam?”
Lenny sighs. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m worried about her, Abe.”
“As am I,” Abe agrees. “But she isn’t going to get better if we do nothing.”
Lenny rubs his mouth with one hand. “Maybe she should talk to someone.”
“An analyst?” Abe asks, and Lenny nods in confirmation. “Rose won’t like it.”
“She’ll like it more than the loony bin,” Lenny counters with a raise of his brow.
Abe nods somberly. “If that’s what you think is best.”
Lenny looks at him for a long moment. “Why are you entrusting me with this? You’re her father. I’m just the - ”
“The boyfriend? The man who loves my daughter? The man who I’m certain has a ring for her stashed away somewhere?” Lenny feels his face flush. He does, in fact, have a ring tucked in the back of his sock drawer. “Who better to take care of Miriam than you?”
Lenny nods slowly. “Thank you, Abe. For that and for dealing with Joel.”
“If you’re going to marry my daughter, you’re going to have to learn to deal with her ex-husband,” Abe points out.
“I - ” He wants to argue, but he can’t. He knows that in order to have any future with Midge, he has to make nice with her ex. “I will do my best,” he promises.
Abe nods. “You have my blessing, by the way,” he says. “Whether you need it or not.”
Lenny feels himself smile. “Thank you.”
42 notes · View notes
potionsprefect · 2 years ago
Text
Extra Support
Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke
Word Count: 1.6k
Summary: Some big news leads to Ethan making a decision
Rating: General Audiences
Category: Fluff
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The early morning sun shine through the gap in the curtains, a bright streak of light warming up Jenner who was laying in his bed, snuggling against his toy.
“Jenner come here!” Victoria patted the bed in front of her.
Jenner jumped up, toy in hand and snuggled against the duvet of Ethan and Victoria’s bed.
“There’s no sunlight here. I bet he’ll jump straight back down and go back to his bed.” Ethan laughed.
A few minutes of silenced passed, Ethan and Victoria waiting to see if Jenner would leave their bed but he didn’t, too focused on the toy he had.
“Maybe our bed is just that comfy.” Victoria laughed.
“I knew that the mattress was a good idea.” Ethan said.
“It will be in months time. Especially during the night feeds.” Victoria smiled down her slightly swollen stomach.
Ethan scooted closer so that his eyes were level with Victoria’s stomach, a big dopey grin on his face. “An even better reason to then.” He pressed two kisses to Victoria’s stomach. “I can’t believe there’s two in there.”
Yesterday, Ethan and Victoria found out that they were expecting twins. Well, Victoria had. Ethan had missed the scan. But Victoria didn’t mind that much. He would’ve fainted if he had found out during the ultrasound.
“We’re going to need two of everything. Two cots, two changing tables.”
“Two lots of baby grows, nappies and toys.” Ethan laughed sitting up.
“And a buggy that carries two.” Victoria grinned.
“I thought we would have to go through this journey twice, but knowing you might only have to go through it once makes it even more exciting.” Ethan rubbed a gentle hand across Victoria’s stomach.
Victoria caressed his cheek in her hand. “You’re going to be a brilliant Dad Ethan. You have the biggest heart and our two children are going to love you to bits.”
Ethan looked down, clearly trying not to cry but Victoria noticed a small tear roll down his cheek. He leaned his forehead against Victoria’s.
When he didn’t speak, Victoria spoke. “Ethan? Are you okay?”
Ethan leaned back, a small smile on his face. “Yeah. I’m excited to become a Dad, but I’m also scared.”
“Why are you scared?” Victoria asked.
Ethan sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I can’t wait to become a Dad. But what if I’m not good enough? What if I’m not the Dad they need? What if I end up like my Mom? What if they hate me? What if-“
Victoria cut him off by cupping his face in her hands. The worried look on his face hadn’t vanished but he stopped rambling. “Ethan.” She smiled softly. “You are NOTHING like your Mom. I know with everything in me that you would never do that to me, to us.” She placed his hands on her belly.
“It’s always constantly on my mind.”
“I know it is. And it’s okay to feel like that. You went through a very traumatic thing that no child should ever have to go through. It’s okay to wonder, especially at a time like this.”
“I don’t want to feel like this though. I’m happy, of course I am. But… I want to feel like that all the time, not have this feeling nagging me when I don’t need it.” Ethan replied.
“Can I suggest therapy? I think it would do you good to talk to someone about how you are feeling. It will help you understand what you went through.”
“And stop me feeling like this.” Ethan chuckled slightly.
“You’re human. It’s okay to feel lots of different things. But please remember that you are the kindest and most brilliant human I have ever met. You are going to be a fantastic Dad to our children.”
Victoria leant forward and softly pressed her lips to Ethan’s, drawing out the moment as his hands found her hair. Victoria pulled away first, resting her forehead against Ethan’s.
“You always have the right words.” Ethan said.
“As I’ve been told.” Victoria smiled.
“I’ll make an appointment with the therapist today. The sooner, the better.”
“Do you want me to come with you? I can change my meeting if needed?”
Ethan thought it over for a minute. “I think it’s best I go on my own. It’s not that I don’t want you there but this is something I need to do for me.” He took her hand, gently stroking the back with his thumb.
“That’s fine. Just let me know when it is and I’ll wait for you.” Victoria smiled.
“Thank you for always being by my side.” Ethan smiled.
“Always.” Victoria smiled back.
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Victoria was heading up towards the therapists office, Ethan having bagged the lunch time slot this morning when he arrived at work.
She was proud of Ethan for deciding to take this big step. She completely understood why he felt the way he did and suggested that talking to someone would help him process why he was feeling this way.
Victoria got off the elevator and headed towards the therapists office. She took a seat in the waiting area, pulling out her phone, looking at the various photos of herself and Ethan.
She smiled as she swiped through each one, the smile on Ethan’s face in the photos widening with each photo. Being with Victoria made him happy, like a new person.
The door to one of the therapists’ office opened. Victoria saw Ethan emerge, shaking the hand of his therapist before closing the door behind him.
Victoria got up and rushed over to him, pulling him into a tight hug. She buried her head into his shoulder, savouring having him in her arms.
“Hey, woah! Slow down. I’m ok.” Ethan chuckled, wrapping his arms around Victoria.
“I know it’s just…” Victoria pulled back, cupping Ethan’s face in her hands. “I was worried about you. How was it?” Victoria took his hand as they made his way to his office.
“It was okay. I opened up, and Lucy is a very good listener.” Ethan chuckled.
“Rafael and I have gone to her and spilled all our secrets. But she is amazing. Really helped us after everything we went through.” Victoria said. “Are you allowed to talk about what you discussed?”
“She said speaking to you would help. And that it’s completely normal to feel how I am feeling. I have an appointment in a couple of weeks.” Ethan sat down on the sofa as they made their way into his office.
“I told you. Luckily an expert confirmed it.” Victoria laughed as she handed Ethan his lunch. “Don’t worry, your salad is cold, I kept it in the fridge.”
“My hero.” Ethan laughed, pressing a kiss to Victoria’s head.
“I’m really proud of you. I hope you know that.” Victoria smiled.
“I do, and it means a lot. If I can be a better person to these two then that’s the main thing.” Ethan laid a gentle hand on Victoria’s stomach.
“You already were. They’re going to love you, just like I do.” Victoria snuggled up beside him.
He held the most precious person in the world in his arms and in a few months time, he would have two more precious people in his life. He simply couldn’t wait.
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Ethan left the therapists office, a spring in his step as he made his way out.
It was his first therapy session since Luke and Lily were born and his wife and children were waiting for him in the diagnostics team office.
The worry of becoming a Dad subsided with each session, he had understood why he felt the way he did and ways in which to cope with it. By the time Luke and Lily had arrived and he held them for the first time, he saw his entire world in his arms. And he would do anything for them.
Ethan reached the diagnostics team office, his smile widening when he saw Victoria.
“How did it go?” His wife tore her gaze from their twins.
“It was good. She recommended once a month now, apparently I’ve made great progress.” Ethan smiled as he sat down on the teams sofa.
“You have, you should be proud of yourself.” Victoria smiled.
“I am. I see you managed to escape the crowds.” Ethan chuckled.
“I didn’t know so many people would be so excited to see them. It’s like there was a never ending line of people queuing up.” Victoria replied. “Not that these two noticed, they slept through the entire thing.”
“As they should, they were awake most of the night, how convenient of them to be asleep the one time we need them.” Ethan laughed.
“They’re cute so they get a pass.” Victoria shrugged.
“Can’t argue with that.” Ethan laughed.
Victoria laughed as well. “Sometimes it still seems surreal that they’re still here. We’ve been waiting for so long.”
“I can’t believe I’m a father. I thought it would never happen, that’s why I felt the way I did. I didn’t know if it was possible, if I could be enough for them. Now every time I look at them, I see so much hope.” Ethan said as he watched his children sleep.
“You are more than enough. For them and for me. I’m proud of you. I know it hasn’t been easy, but you’ve done so well.” Victoria pulled Ethan into her arms.
Ethan rested his head against Victoria’s shoulder. “That means a lot. I’m so lucky to have you.”
Victoria pressed a kiss to his forehead. “As am I.”
“Have I ever told you you give the best hugs?” Ethan lifted his head off her shoulder.
“You have once or twice. But I don’t mind hearing it again.” Victoria laughed.
The couple absorbed the silence, watching their children sleep soundly in their buggy. It was at this moment that Ethan couldn’t imagine life being any better.
Whatever he faced next, he knew he would have his wife by his side, she was all he ever needed. And their two perfect children had completed his life, he had a purpose, a reason to live and breathe.
He would do anything for them.
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For @choicesficwriterscreations naughty or nice event
Tagging in reblog
67 notes · View notes
anonymous-dentist · 2 years ago
Text
I refuse to watch this movie.
Or, the Enchanted (2007) au.
-
Quackity has to hold his brother’s hand to keep him from running out in traffic. Tubbo, ten years old and wise beyond his years, knows not to run out in traffic. He just has a fucking death wish. 
“I don’t see what the problem is,” Tubbo shrugs. 
He swings his and Quackity’s hands between them with a skip in his step. It’s cute, and he’s cute, but he’s also been spending too much time with his foster family because he’s sporting a fresh scrape on his elbow from trying to force a hit-and-run for the insurance money. Fucking Wilbur. Quackity is going to kill him one of these days. He’s actually going to. 
Quackity gives Tubbo a long-suffering look that Tubbo pleasantly ignores in favor of staring directly into the sun. 
“The problem is that that isn’t how insurance works,” Quackity painedly explains. He plants his free hand on the top of Tubbo’s head and aims it so he’s looking directly ahead of them. “If you throw yourself in front of a moving vehicle, you’re the one at fault. You’d have to-”
“That’s not what Wilbur said. Wilbur said-”
“Fuck Wilbur. Who’s the lawyer here? Fuck Wilbur. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Fucking Wilbur. Quackity is going to skin him alive and string him from a clothesline by his toenails. If he’s going to teach Quackity’s brother about insurance fraud, he should at least try to get it right. 
He lets out a sigh. It’s four p.m. on a Thursday afternoon, and he’s explaining how to commit insurance fraud to a ten-year-old child. Who has no insurance. Who would have to get his annoying fucking family to pay for his hospital bills, and his annoying fucking family would then turn to Quackity because he can’t get a fucking break. He can hear it now: Phil Craft on the phone telling him that their insurance doesn’t cover children, isn’t that strange? Hey, Quackity, aren’t you a lawyer? Can’t you take care of this? Thanks, mate! Fake smile evident over the phone. Quackity can imagine it now. Ugh. 
“Basically-” he sighs, trying not to sound as irritated as he feels. No need to be annoyed over something that won’t even happen. “So, basically, pedestrians get the right of way in traffic. If a car hit you, they’d have to pay a lot of money. I bet that’s what Wilbur said, right?”
Tubbo nods. At least he’s paying attention this time. 
Quackity nods as well. Good. This is already a better lecture than the arson one. 
“But,” he continues, “if you, the pedestrian, jumped out in front of a car without giving the car enough time to react, then you’re at fault. You’d have to pay for the damages to the car and the driver, and then a couple of fines on top of that. And the hospital bills, and-”
Tubbo throws his head back with a groan. “Oh my Goooood, I get it!”
And yet Quackity can feel him tugging at his hand as if he wants to throw himself right into traffic again. Little shit. Little idiot. He’s supposed to be in therapy for this. Quackity is going to have words with Phil over this… 
“Do you?” Quackity asks. “Do you really? ‘Cause I don’t think so.”
He shuffles Tubbo to his other side, swapping hands so that Tubbo is now holding his left hand. Away from the road, Tubbo begrudgingly stops his idiot lemming behavior. 
It’s almost rush hour, and Quackity can feel the heat beating down on him from all sides. The burning Nevada sun above, the blistering concrete sidewalk below, the throng of cars on the road to his right, the reflective skyscrapers to his left. Oh, Vegas, the land of hopes, dreams, and heatstroke. 
Despite it all, Quackity is still in a full suit because he has a meeting after this. Five p.m. sharp, he’s meant to be with a client on the other side of town, and here he is, walking his kid brother home from school just because Tubbo said he had something cool to show him. Quackity assumed it was another one of his cool little science project things he makes, but, no, it was attempted vehicular suicide. Jesus fucking Christ. 
Tubbo looks fine, though. Of course he does. Kid’s impervious. Quackity is half convinced that if he did get hit by a car, the car would end up the one in the hospital. He’s wearing a pair of Wilbur’s sunglasses and has Quackity’s own sunglasses hanging from his shirt collar because he asked with crocodile tears in his eyes and Quackity’s one weakness is sad-looking children. 
“You’re no fun,” Tubbo huffs. He blows the bangs out of his face. Phil needs to take him to get a haircut. Quackity makes a mental note to add that to the checklist. Therapy, haircut, adoption papers… 
“Look, all I’m saying is that Wilbur is a lying piece of shit.” Quackity rolls his eyes. “He’s probably just trying to get you killed.”
“No, I think he’s just dumb.”
Quackity bites back a laugh, but he doesn’t hide his smile. “I think you’re right. Tell him I called him an idiot and I’ll buy you ice cream.”
“Uncle Techno is already taking me out for ice cream,” Tubbo says. 
Quackity’s smile falls. “Well. That sounds fun.”
“It won’t be.”
Ah. 
“It’d be more fun if you took me for ice cream instead.”
Ah. 
Quackity winces and tries not to look at his brother, who he just knows is giving him a certified Look. It runs in the family, the Look, just like bad choices and asthma. Tubbo happens to be excellent at using the Look to his advantage even with his bangs covering his eyes most of the time. (Of course, he did learn from the best.)
Quackity uses his free hand to awkwardly fiddle with the arm of his sunglasses. His briefcase, also in that hand (so maybe it really isn’t free) bangs against his jaw. 
“Sorry,” he says, genuinely apologetic and trying to get it across through all the layers of Shut The Fuck Up that naturally laces his voice these days, “I’ve got a meeting in an hour, then I have some paperwork to get done, so-”
“I see,” Tubbo sighs. His grip on Quackity’s hand tightens so much that Quackity swears he hears his knuckles pop. 
Quackity winces again. Fuck, he’s good. Quackity can’t even blame Wilbur for this one, manipulation tactics run in the family, just like broken hearts and diabetes. 
He checks his watch, winces yet again when he sees the time, and stops walking to turn Tubbo to face him, anyway. 
“Look, I can’t make it tonight, but I can try to arrange something for this weekend?” he offers, fully knowing that he really genuinely doesn’t have any time this weekend to spare. He has a meeting with- guess who? Wilbur Soot- on Saturday morning and an afternoon-long training seminar and then a dinner with some rich fuck with a casino and then breakfast on Sunday with another rich fuck with a casino, and then he has church, and then he has chores and groceries and paperwork, and- 
Tubbo shrugs loosely. “Fine, I guess. Saturday at three p.m. sharp, I’ll meet you at the gelato shop by your work. I’ll make Wilbur drive me.”
Quackity blinks. He does have a lunch hour free at three, which he was planning on spending with a nap and a smoke, but he really doesn’t think he has a say in this. 
So he nods and smiles, and Tubbo smiles back, and Quackity thinks, wow, Tubbo’s done that a lot more since the Crafts took him in. What a lucky kid. 
Tubbo freezes suddenly, smile falling into something more confused. 
“Hey, Big Q?” he asks. “What did you say about vehicular homicide and insurance?”
Quackity frowns. “Uuuuh, I said that you shouldn’t do it. Why?”
“Oh, ‘cause there’s a guy in the road trying to get the insurance money.”
Quackity’s eyes widen and he spins around to see a real dumb-looking motherfucker standing in the middle of the road with his arms outstretched like Jesus Christ himself, eyes shut and mouth open in a smile. 
“Shit,” Quackity mumbles, heart racing. God, is he about to watch a suicide?
A honk from an SUV driving by and just barely missing the man. And the man laughs, almost sounding like a song. A fucking death march, really, what the fuck? 
“Shit,” Quackity more emphatically says. “Fuck, Tubbo, stay here and turn around.”
Without really thinking, he drops Tubbo’s hand and his briefcase and runs out into the road, almost getting his by a semi immediately. 
“Hey!” he shouts. He swears and flips off a sports car that honks at him as he runs in front of it. “Hey, what the fuck are you doing?”
He swears again and screeches to a halt to avoid getting run over by a scary woman on a motorcycle. Tubbo on the sidewalk shouts, definitely watching, the little shit. Oh, there’s no way Phil lets Quackity see him again after this… 
Once the coast is as clear as it’s going to get, Quackity bolts, getting to the man quickly and grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around to face the concrete meridian and fucking shoving him as hard as he can. 
The man protests and flaps his arms around like a bird trying to take off, heels stuck firmly in the road. 
“What are you doing?” he snaps. He turns around to glare down at Quackity. His eyes are a brilliant golden color that contrasts the bright embarrassed red of his face. “Let go! I’m trying to vibe here!”
Quackity looks up at him incredulously. “You’re trying to vibe? You’re going to get yourself killed, idiot!”
“Uh, no? They’re just horses. Animals love me!”
What? 
Quackity doesn’t have the time or the energy to question it, but he does have enough adrenaline to grit his teeth and properly start manhandling this insane fucker out of the road. 
“I swear to God if I get killed saving a fucking Ren faire employee I’m going to come back and haunt you until you’re a mummy,” he grunts. 
Because that’s what this dude has to be, a Ren faire guy. He’s got the outfit down. It’s pretty good quality, too. His fancy purple shirt feels like silk beneath Quackity’s hands, but that doesn’t matter because a nice shirt doesn’t matter when you’re roadkill. 
Surprisingly, the threat is enough to get the freak to move. He actually seems eager to run ahead, leaving Quackity alone in the middle of the road. Quackity quickly hurries after him, heart going a million miles a minute. 
What. The hell. 
Once at the meridian and the thin curb on either side of it, Quackity lets himself breathe again. He leans against the meridian and closes his eyes, trying to calm down. His hands shake as he pushes his sunglasses up into his hair. He scrubs his eyes with one hand and places his other hand over his heart. 
“Hello,” the Ren faire guy says. His voice is soft and melodic and grating to the ears and Quackity kinda wants to push him back out into traffic for all he’s done in the past three minutes. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Quackity wheezes. He waves a hand in the guy’s general direction, not looking at him. “I’m gonna… call an ambulance in a second. Fuck. What were you doing out there? Were you trying to get yourself killed?”
“I was pushed into a well,” the guy says, and, yeah, that tracks. Sounds crazy, dude’s crazy. Man, Wilbur’s gonna love hearing about this… “And then I came out of it here. Wherever I am.”
Quackity lowers his hand from his eyes and gives the guy the Look. “You’re in Vegas, dude. I’m calling the ambulance.”
He pulls out his phone from his back pocket, but his hands are shaking too much for him to type, and he has Siri turned off. 
“‘Vegas’...” the man mutters, almost sounding like he’s in awe. He looks around the streets, at the skyscrapers, at the cars, at the stores, at the drunk guy pissing on a telephone pole by the Nordstom. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, it’s great,” Quackity absently agrees. He gives up on typing and groans, looking across the street at a very concerned-looking Tubbo. “Fuck. We gotta get back over there.”
The man beams, teeth a startling white. “Easy! Hold on.”
Before Quackity can protest, he grabs Quackity by the hand and pulls him out into the road. 
“What the fuck?” Quackity screeches, panickedly looking around for any cars he might have to save them from, but every car they get even remotely close to skids to a halt a perfectly safe distance away almost magically. “What the fuck?”
“Told you,” the man teasingly says. “Animals love me.”
What the fuck. Again. 
As soon as they’re on the sidewalk, Quackity wrenches himself free and opens his arms for Tubbo to throw himself into. 
“What the hell was that?” Tubbo demands. “You wouldn’t have gotten any insurance from that!”
“Is that all you care about?” Quackity tiredly asks. “The insurance? What about me, huh? Little asshole.”
He can hear Tubbo’s giggles, though, so all he does in response is playfully scowl and ruffle Tubbo’s hair. 
“Is that your son?” the man suddenly asks, scaring Quackity right out of his skin. 
He jumps away from Tubbo with a bit of a sour taste in his mouth. 
“No,” he immediately says, head shaking almost violently. “No. He’s my brother. Younger brother.”
Tubbo says, “Whoah, I like your pants, big man.”
He steps up next to Quackity, eyes glimmering like stars, and Quackity thinks Oh, no. 
And then the man strikes a dramatic pose, hair and cape fluttering in the stale desert wind, and Quackity thinks, again, Oh, no. 
“Why, thank you!” he beams, toothpaste commercial smile and all. 
“You look like a prince,” Tubbo says. 
“That’s because I am one,” the guy says, and of course he is. He’s insane. “Prince Karl of Andalasia at your service, my liege.”
He bows with a flourish, much to Tubbo’s obvious delight. God-fucking-damnit. 
And then he lifts his head and winks up at Quackity with a smirk, and Quackity, yet again, can only think Oh, no. 
141 notes · View notes
supernaturalgirl20 · 3 years ago
Note
Was thinking about Pero Tovar. Him loving a girl, thinking about her for months and then coming back to find her with baby. Him running away thinking she moved on and have a family. On the other side her being sad cuz she heard Pero is in her village and didn’t come to see her and baby she had alone. Then she met William and he congratulates her on having family and she just say there is only two of them and how much she miss Pero and how sad she is he do not love her anymore. William as a good friend slap the Spaniards face, made him to clean himself after his grieving period, made him buy a cute blanket and pick some flowers so he can meet his daughter.
Thank you for your request I hope you enjoy 😉
Forever Yours
Pairings: Pero Tovar x f!reader
Warnings: Smut 18+, unprotected sex, angst, misunderstanding, fluff, mentions of pregnancy.
Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰
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Pero was tired.
Weary right down to his bones as his horse slowed to a trot. He’s been gone longer than planned, the whole charade at the wall delaying things a bit. He longed for a bed of his own, a hot meal every day, the smell of the fresh country air, but most of all - he longed for you.
He’d been courting you before he left and when he had told you he was departing for a few months you had been eager to give yourself to him. Pero was not a good man. He would never claim to be but he hesitated when you asked him to take your virginity. He wanted to wait. Wait until you were his wife but you were stubborn. Something which both excited and irritated him.
Pero was also a man. An extremely horny man and when the woman he loved begged him to take her to his bed - although he hesitated - he could not refuse.
His trip away had made him crave stability. He thought of nothing else, nothing but coming home and making you his wife. To settle down in a nice cottage somewhere, anywhere and filling you until you bared his children.
He slowed his horse at the top of the hill, the small village he left you in sitting at the bottom nestled between trees. A sigh of relief leaves him and his friend laughs beside him.
“What is so funny amigo?”
“Nothing my friend. Are you hoping to find a certain woman waiting for you?”
Pero’s lips quirk into a smile as his gaze once again turned to the small village. He does not answer his friend. Instead he gallops off leaving William watching after him, a shit eating grin on his face.
***
While Sophia was asleep you decided to tend to the garden, something which has become sort of like a therapy for you. It is also the only way you can feed yourself these days, selling your produce in the local market to buy meats and bread.
The little cottage your father bought you before he died was nestled just in the edge of the forest, away from the gossip of the locals. Having a child and no father in sight was not something to be proud of. Not that you cared. Sophia was the image of her father, a little piece of him with you always. He was gone and you were left alone or raise your daughter but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
A sadness fills your heart at the thought of her father. He had been the love of your life, your home. But life doesn’t always play fair. The sound of Sophia’s hungry cries reaches your ears and you quickly wipe the dirt off your hands and make your way inside. She is quickly soothed and you carry her outside as you sit on the small bench.
She looks up at you with those big brown eyes and it melts your heart. “You are so like your daddy my little princess. He would have loved you so very much.”
***
Pero’s heart plummets into his stomach at the sight of you, babe in your arms. All months away he had thought of nothing but coming home to you and now, here you are with another man’s babe. Idiota!
Of course you wouldn’t wait for him. Of course you had moved on. He needed to get out of here. Couldn’t stand to be here when your husband arrived home and held you the way he wanted to. He cursed under his breath as he mounted his horse and rode off.
Arriving at the inn he passed William and went straight to the bar. “I need a woman for the night.”
“Of course. If you would like to have a drink and I can have it arranged.”
“Gracias.”
Pero sat with a huff at the table and William raised an eyebrow, shocked at his behaviour. “Did you not find your woman?”
“She is not my woman.”
“But I thought she said she’d wait? Y/N did not seem the type to lie.”
“All women are liars are they no? She found someone else and has had a family with him. If she has moved on, then so will I.” Pero downs his drink and stands to leave. William grabs ahold of his arm, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I have no had a women in over a year. Yes, I am sure.” Arriving to his room he finds a buxom blonde waiting for him. She is nothing like you but he can pretend.
***
You had been strolling through the market when you heard his name mentioned. At first you had thought it a coincidence but then the blonde spoke his name again and you had you find out what they were saying.
“I’ve been going to his room for the last week and my god can that man fuck. He certainly knows what he’s doing.”
“Do you think he might want you? He could be your way out of this life?”
“No! When Pero comes he cries out some other woman’s name. His heart is with her, but I’ll enjoy it as long as it lasts.”
Your heart was racing. He’s home. Has been this last week and he hasn’t come to see you. You had held out hope that he works return to you and that you could be a family but he clearly doesn’t want that. You try to finish gathering your supplies as quickly as possible not wanting the villagers to see you cry but a hand on your shoulder startles you.
“Y/N, I thought it was you. Are you ok?”
Seeing William confirms that it is your Pero that the woman was talking about and the tears begin to fall. William is quick to pull you in for a hug, careful not to hurt the sleeping a baby at your breast. “Here, let me help you with all that.”
“You have a beautiful home,” he says as you near your little cottage. “Is your husband home?”
“Husband?! I am afraid it is just me and Sophia.”
William is a little confused and it clearly shows on his face until it dawns in him. “Pero! He is Sophia’s father?”
“Yes. I found out two months after he left. My father bought us this cottage to keep us away from the gossips.”
“He will be so happy to know you…”
“No! I don’t want him to know. He has been back a week and has not come near me. I overheard some of the women in the market, he has been finding comfort in the arms of someone else.”
“I’m afraid he thought you had moved on.”
“I would never. He’s the love of my life William, he should have known better.”
William stayed for lunch and then bid you farewell, telling you he would be back the next day to help around the garden. What he didn’t tell you, was that he was going to smack Pero across the head and tell him to go and beg forgiveness.
***
William marched over to where Pero was seated, the blonde perched on his lap. There is a flash of fear across the Spaniards face as he sees the anger on his friends face.
“I need to speak to you my friend.”
“I am a little busy amigo,” he says as his hand runs down the side of her waist making her giggle.
William nods his head at the woman and she hips off Pero’s lap. He pulls him up by the scruff of his neck and drags him outside.
“What are you doing, idiota.”
“You’re the idiot my friend. You need to clean yourself up and go and see Y/N.”
“I will do no such thing. She has made her choice.”
“She is not married.”
“And that is my problem?”
“Yes it is. That baby you saw, she’s yours.”
“What?” His face pales now as he looks at William, searching his face for lies.
“I ran into Y/N in the market yesterday. I helped her home and she explained to me that she found out two months after we left that she was with child. Your child.”
“I’m…I am a father?”
“Yes Pero you are. You need to clean yourself up and go into the market and buy flowers and something for your daughter. Then your going to go out there and beg her for forgiveness.”
“What have I done amigo?”
“Look, you didn’t know Pero. You thought she had moved on and you had a broken heart. Men do stupid things when they have a broken heart but you need to fix this. She heard Maria talking to the other women about you.”
“Mierda!”
***
Pero’s heart is racing.
The closer he gets to you the more nervous he becomes. William had helped him pick out a beautiful blanket and teddy for his daughter and he had picked flowers for you. Along with the ring around his neck.
He takes in a deep breath as he stands outside your door before raiding his hand to knock. He waits. For what feels like forever and when you open the door he’s blown away by how beautiful you look. You are stood there, his daughter in your arms, a little bit of flour on your cheek and his heart swells at the sight.
“Pero? What are you doing here?”
“Mi amor, I’m sorry. I did not know…”
“Pero you…”
“Please amor, let me finish. I came straight here when I arrived and when I saw you with a babe I assumed you had moved on. Married another man and my heart shattered. I sought comfort in another and I hate myself for it. Can you forgive me?”
“Pero…”
“Please mi amor, I am begging you. I thought of nothing else while I was away. While I fought monsters. I wanted to get home. Home to you and make you my wife.”
A smile spreads over your face as you watch the man you live grovel. He continues to ramble and the only way you shut him up, is by placing your lips in his. He’s shocked at first but then his arms come to wrap around you, pulling you close. That is until your daughter coos and his gaze shoots to her.
“Do you want to hold her? Her name is Sophia.”
He looks at you now, awe in his face. “My mothers name.”
“I remember you told me a story of her and I wanted our daughter to have a connection to you.”
“Sophia, mi pequeña princesa.” She looks up at him and he can see she has his eyes.
“You left a piece of you with me. My little surprise.”
“Can you forgive me?”
“Are you going to see that woman again?” You are teasing him now, knowing full well he won’t.
“Never. I only want you mi amor. Always you.”
“Then yes Pero. I forgive you.”
Sophia begins to stir in his arms and he looks panicked as he hands her to you. “She’s hungry that’s all.”
You pull your breast out and she latches on quickly, the only sounds in the room are her suckling on your nipple. Pero is ashamed at how quickly his cock hardens at the sight. You feeding his daughter from your breast has him hard as a rock.
“You are amazing mi amor. I should never have left. Yo era una idiota y voy a soend la reat de mi vida compensándote” I was an idiot and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.
“It’s ok Pero. I get it, I do. You came home and thought I’d met someone else. As long as you aren’t with another woman again.”
“Never mi amor. Never.”
“There are days I wish you never left but it doesn’t matter now that your home.”
Home. Pero had always thought it was a place but he was so wrong. You were his home. “Do you want to help bathe her?”
“Si. If it is ok?”
“Of course it’s ok Pero. Come I’ll show you what to do.”
***
Pero stayed and helped with Sophia, bathing and settling her for the night. You’d made dinner for him and then you both sat by the fire where he told you of his time away.
“William would have died if I had not saved him,” he told you as he explained about the monsters in China.
“He is lucky to have a friend like you.”
“Si, and I him. He came back yesterday after meeting you and smacked some sense into me. I’ve been an idiot and I want you to know that I love you very much.”
He pulls away and pulls a chain from around his neck where he has his mothers ring. You gasp as he turns toward you.
“Mi amor, I’ve wanted you to have this for a long time and I am sorry it’s taken all this to make me see sense but will you marry me? Will you be my wife?”
“Yes! Yes a million times yes.” He slips the ring on your finger and kisses you passionately. His hands begin to roam and growls into your mouth. “I need you mi amor. Can I have you?”
“Yes.”
He proceeds to make love to you in front of the fire. Taking his time, savouring the feel of you around him. As he draws near to his release he asks you where, you cry out “inside, please Pero…fill me.”
“Mierda.” He grunts as he comes hard, filling you with his seed. Pulling out he lays beside you, his hand coming to rest on your stomach. “We could have made another little Tovar tonight.”
“Oh god you’ll have me child every year at this rate,” you laugh as you lean up and kiss him. His face is serious as he looks down at you, his hand cupping your cheek.
“I’m forever yours, mi amor. Until my death.”
***
Two years later…
Standing at the table kneading bread you hear the laughter of your children as they play with their father. A smile spreads over your face at how happy you feel right now. Pero gave up selling his sword and settled down with you and Sophia, and sure enough that night by the fire he did get you pregnant again.
“William will be here soon mi amor,” Pero whispers as he wraps his arms around you from behind. His hands coming to rest on the small swell of your stomach.
“How is mi Pequeño guerrero?”
“Kicking up a storm. I expect nothing less from your son amor.”
He laughs at that, nuzzling into your neck. “Where are the girls?”
“Sophia is out in the flowerbeds and Olivia is down for a nap. I cannot wait to have you tonight mi amor.”
“You are insatiable Pero.”
“Only for you.”
The sound of Sophia shouting alerts you to Williams arrival and Pero pulls away reluctantly. “Wait until he sees you hermosa, he did no believe you were with child again.”
“This is the last time Tovar.”
“We shall see. Te amo mi amor.”
“Te amo.”
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lorna-d-m · 2 years ago
Text
Chapter One: Orientation
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Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x fem!OC (Alice Greene)
Summary: Professor Laszlo Kreizler is a workaholic. Between teaching university courses, running the Kreizler Institute, and minding Stevie -his ward-, he does not have time for relationships. That is until he meets Ms. Greene, Stevie's English teacher, at open house. Can he open his heart to the possibility of love?
Word Count: 4,285
W: Mature. Language, drinking, mentions of theft and assault.
A/N: Welcome to the new series! I'm so excited to begin, and please remember my requests are always open for past and currrent fics! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or you can fill out the form on my pinned post!
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Laszlo glanced at the time before he turned onto his street. Later than intended, but he did not think Stevie would mind. It was not as if Stevie was terribly excited about the open house and orientation. Nothing served as such a potent reminder for the end of summer than back-to-school events. Stevie might even prefer it if Laszlo missed the entire night.
Ordinarily, Laszlo parked in the garage to charge his car. But, since he planned to leave again soon, he parked in the short driveway. Besides, half the time Laszlo wanted to park in the garage there was no space. Stevie and his fixer-upper took up every inch of the garage.
In the past week, Stevie spent more time with the old car. Laszlo suspected it was his anxiety about school starting soon, and Stevie felt he needed to work with his hands to vent his fears and frustrations. He did not want to pressure Stevie into talking, but he could coax something out of him after open house. 
Laszlo hovered in the garage doorway to watch Stevie. With his earbuds in, he didn’t notice Laszlo. Stevie leaned over the vintage engine, black grease smearing his face, hands, and shirt, and he mumbled to himself. In the two years Stevie stayed with Laszlo, he made incredible progress. Laszlo never thought the old car would run again, but Stevie was close. 
He clasped Stevie on the shoulder making him startle. When he realized it was Laszlo, he took out one earbud and relaxed. Stevie smeared grease on his forehead as he ran his arm across it. 
“You may want to wash up before we leave. I do not believe grease on your face makes a great impression.”
Stevie huffed a sigh and picked up his tools. He glanced at the garage floor, covered in bits and pieces, and turned back to Laszlo. “I promise to pick everything up before we leave.”
“I never doubted that.” Laszlo squeezed Stevie’s shoulder and left him to his work. 
His clothes — black slacks, a white button-down shirt, a vest, and a blazer — were plenty suitable for the orientation, so he reasoned he had enough time to make a cup of tea and enjoy it. Laszlo waited for his tea to brew and paced across the kitchen. He wished to pop outside for a quick cigarette to ease his nerves, but Stevie would see him smoking. After all of Laszlo’s anti-vaping and smoking tirades, he could not be caught red-handed. The tea would have to do.
Laszlo worried about Stevie. Most children charged with theft and assault would be stuck in a juvenile detention center, but thanks to Laszlo’s efforts Stevie lived with him. He received therapy, performed community service, and was home-schooled for two years. Stevie was a bright kid, and he caught up swiftly. Now, according to his tutor and therapist, Stevie was ready for high school. He was a year older than most freshmen, but it was the smart place for him to start.
Open house would be Stevie’s introduction to his new school, classmates, and teachers. Laszlo hoped the evening would be painless and encourage Steve to give the school a chance. He would stick out like a sore thumb, but it could still be a good experience for him. 
Stevie reappeared in the kitchen doorway. His clean t-shirt was tucked into his jeans, and his hair looked like it at least met a comb, if not became acquainted with it. Stevie’s face and hands were flushed pink from scrubbing the grease away.
“There, isn’t that better?” Laszlo smiled and set his thermos in the sink. “Though I think you missed a spot by your ear…” he offered his white handkerchief to Stevie. 
Stevie rolled his eyes and took the cloth square. “Do you promise not to do that at open house?” He wiped the grease from his temple.
“Do what?” Laszlo scoffed. “I am merely helping you make a good first impression.” He stuck his hands in his pocket and stroked the key fob with his thumb.
Stevie tucked his thumbs into his jeans pockets. “Worry about me,” he rolled his eyes in pure teenage fashion, “and micromanage me because you’re worried about me. I’ll be okay.” 
“I know you will,” he acknowledged with a tip of his head, “but I can’t possibly promise not to be concerned.”
“It’s your job to be concerned, but you don’t need to be nervous or worried. I promise.”
It is more than a job to me, he thought. 
Laszlo was a stickler for time, and he checked his watch again. It was a quarter to five, later than he intended. Not wanting to be too late, they walked to the car. Errantly, Laszlo thought Stevie would need to practice his driving soon if he intended to get a learner’s permit. With that would come the license, the car, the insurance…
“Can we get pizza or something after?” 
Stevie’s question broke Laszlo from his train of thought. Laszlo studied him first, then blinked calmly. “If that is what you wish.” Sometimes, he forgot Stevie could be a normal teenager craving a slice of greasy pizza.
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Alice checked the time on her smartwatch. Bitsy sent a quick “Good luck!👍“ text, and there were fifteen more minutes. Then, she would turn into her teaching alter ego: Ms. Greene. Her eyes swept over her new classroom. Instead of harsh fluorescents, she used strategically placed lamps and decorative string lights. So far, her blend of educational and entertaining posters held. Even the homemade sugar cookies — which she decorated to look like red apples, wooden pencils, and notebook paper — were neatly arranged with a stack of napkins and paper plates. Alice hoped her room felt welcoming and encouraging, if not prepared.
Being idle felt odd, but there was nothing else she could do to prepare for open house. All that remained was for the parents and students to arrive. Bitsy warned her about the over-the-top parents when she told her of the open positions at the school. Alice decided she could handle fiercer parents given better pay and benefits. 
Alice heard footsteps and chattering in the hallway. She squared her shoulders back, took a deep breath in, and plastered a smile to her face. It was showtime. And, if they somehow managed to eat her alive, she and Bitsy made plans to drink and debrief on everything that happened. It was their version of D&D.
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After waiting in line at the counselor’s office for a paper copy of Stevie’s schedule — because Laszlo insisted on paper rather than the electronic version — he outlined the evening. They would start at the far side of the school, near the gym, and work their way to the other side, near the cafeteria and the auditorium. 
Laszlo recognized a handful of parents, students, and administrators, so he gave them an acknowledging nod. He did not want to be dragged into an awkward conversation amid a busy hall, and he was sure Stevie did not want to either. Given Stevie’s zoned-out expression and tapping foot as they waited outside the gym, he wanted to leave as soon as possible. Laszlo was not comfortable in the hot, sweaty hallway either, and the overlapping echo of conversations started to give him a headache. 
A set of double doors slammed open releasing a stream of students and their parents. Laszlo walked in behind Stevie and searched the gym for the source of the abrasive yelling, scuffling of rubber sneakers, and the stench of sweat. A group of boys dribbled a basketball up and down the court, and a red-faced and haired coach blew a whistle. Laszlo quirked his eyebrows knowing he was in for an unpleasant encounter. 
“My name is Coach Connor,” he huffed, “and I expect every single one of you to be a top-of-the-line athlete when you’re in my gym.” He stared at his prospective students. The football team was squared away, but there were many other teams and positions available. He picked which kids he wanted to try out and which kids he wanted to stay the hell away from. 
“And what if not every student can be an athlete?” Laszlo's voice carried across the gymnasium as it would in a courtroom. Stevie knew from experience. He kept his right hand tucked away in his pocket, so he gesticulated with his left. “What then?”
Coach Connor’s bushy mustache bristled. He was not accustomed to being challenged. His beady eyes scrutinized Laszlo and Stevie beside him. “And who might you be?” 
“Dr. Kreizler. I hardly think impressing upon every student the need to be an athlete will foster healthy development. Should you not encourage students to do their best and grow?” He stood tall and proud with his left hand resting on Stevie’s shoulder as if he was a bird sheltering his young with his wing.
A few parents nodded in agreement. Laszlo did not waver under Coach Connor’s hard stare. He held Connor’s eye until Connor gruffly cleared his throat and continued. 
Laszlo was relieved to leave the gym’s stifling heat and company. They stopped in Stevie’s science classroom next, taught by Ms. Sussman. She politely welcomed them, though she spoke with a set of parents, and directed them to the stack of papers across one of the blacktop lab stations. Laszlo skimmed through the papers: a syllabus, a parent info sheet, and a lab safety form. All typical paperwork. Laszlo would read through it that evening. 
After speaking briefly with her about what the paperwork contained and what Stevie could expect in freshman biology class, they went to another hall. Stevie took the lead and weaseled his way through the crowded hallways, and Laszlo followed him. For the first time, Laszlo appreciated Stevie’s stealth and slick moves in a crowd.
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Alice’s shoulders sagged, but she kept a smile on her face. Her earlier hopes of parents waiting to sink their claws into her were dashed. Unfortunately, her classroom location at the end of the hall did not discourage any parents from visiting. If anything, it seemed to make them angrier. A number lectured her on how to do her job while others outright dismissed her as a new teacher at the school. 
Alice offered cookies to distract or persuade them, but they glanced between her and the cookies, scoffing for sneering, and declined. She wasn’t sure what stung more: their disdain for her or their rejection of even her baking. 
Thankfully, only one hour remained. Alice would buy the wine while Bitsy picked up the pizza. They would meet at Alice’s apartment to swap notes, details, and stories from the night. It would be just like college when they drank and ranted about their classes. Alice looked forward to many more evenings with Bitsy and a bottle of wine now that they worked together. 
Being a teacher, Alice saw her fair share of DILFs. Handsome, with perhaps a touch of gray at the temple, and empathetic. They were easy gossip between teachers, asking “did you see so and so’s dad?”. Of course, most were unavailable, and it would be unprofessional to approach those without a ring on their fingers. 
Well-dressed and groomed, with dark brown hair carefully swept back and his full beard meticulously kept. Alice wanted to run her fingers through his hair, which looked soft, and stroke his chin. He wore a black three-piece suit, but he draped his coat over his arm. Professional, but endearing.
“I am Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, pleased to meet you.” He smiled politely and glanced at the boy beside him. Alice thought she detected an accent in the lilt of his words. German, perhaps?
“Stevie Taggert,” he offered his hand for her to shake. “Can I have one?” Stevie pointed to the near-full platter of cookies beside her.
“Of course,” Alice brightened, “that’s why I made them. While you eat, I’ll set a copy of the syllabus and my welcome sheet here.”
Stevie reached for a bright red apple, and his hand hovered over one of the sheets of notebook paper. Laszlo nodded, so Stevie passed it to him. Stevie took another cookie, a frosted pencil this time. 
Dr. Kreizler dabbed at his lips with a napkin before speaking. His eyes hardened as if he switched to a work or professional mode. He reached for the papers she set on the desk and quickly skimmed. “What is your communication policy regarding parents and guardians?” 
Alice expected the usual questions about her experience or her classroom policies. She tried not to let the surprise show on her face as she answered. Alice was not annoyed; she was pleasantly surprised. “Unless noted in a student’s learning plan, I work on an as needed basis. If something comes up, I will of course discuss it with you.” 
She glanced between the two with a smile. Stevie seemed tired, if not apologetic, at Laszlo’s probing. Laszlo appeared satisfied with her answer, nodding once, and resting his hand in his pocket. He may have noticed the nervous twinge to her smile because he dropped his harsh mien and smiled. 
“Forgive me, Stevie is a non-traditional student, and I worry for him.” 
“Worrying means you care, Dr. Kreizler. As long as you do not smother Stevie nor myself, I do not mind.”
Stevie blushed, and a laugh bubbled up in Laszlo’s throat. He brushed his fingers over his mustache and bashfully dipped his head. 
“I hope not,” he quipped, “for all our sake.” 
Alice chuckled, and she wished them a good evening. Her hand brushed his as she handed him the papers, and their eyes met in that second. His eyes were dark, but they were warm too, warm enough to make her blush when he looked away. As soon as Laszlo and Stevie stepped out of the room, Alice typed a message to her friend.
Alice: Absolute DILF tonight 😵‍💫tell you about it over dinner 🍕🍷
Bits: Can’t wait! 
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The sun was still out when Laszlo and Stevie left the school. Stevie held the bundle of paperwork in his lap and nibbled one of the cookies he swiped from Ms. Greene while they were both distracted. He hoped she would bring in more cookies throughout the year, maybe if the class did well on an assignment or before a holiday break.
Laszlo asked which pizza place Stevie wanted to go to, breaking Stevie from his trance. He crammed the rest of the cookie in his mouth and struggled to speak around it.
“Stevie,” he chided, “you could have swallowed before speaking.”
“Sorry Doc.” He repeated the name of the restaurant, although Laszlo knew what he said before. “Is that okay with you?”
“It’s your night, Stevie.” He hit the blinker and fiddled with the stereo system. When Laszlo bought the car, Stevie had to painstakingly teach him to use the Bluetooth connection to play music. Half the time when they were in the car together, Stevie would play the music Laszlo wanted without asking. Light classical music filled the car. 
Stevie fiddled with the corner of a page. “Do we need to go to the store? These lists mention school supplies I know I don’t have.” 
Laszlo considered that a moment and ran through his to-do list. His university students should not be too troublesome as their semester recently started, so they cannot come crying to his office hours after an exam or essay yet. As for his Institute children, those still participating in the summer program were stable, and he had no major concerns. 
“Let me check my office or at the Institute. Some of what they list you may not need, so there’s no sense in paying for it.” He glanced at Stevie during a stoplight. He leaned back comfortably in the seat, but he still crinkled the corners of the paper. “We can see about new clothes, or shoes if you prefer.” Laszlo noticed, and he knew Stevie must have as well, the clothing of his future peers. He never wanted to impose anything onto Stevie, God knows the boy marches to the beat of his own drum, but he thought he would offer.
Stevie shrugged. “If you have time.” While Laszlo focused on the road, he studied Laszlo’s expression. His brows creased and his lips pinched into a line, but that had nothing to do with him. Driving in the city aggravated him, and Stevie knew he had more on his mind. 
Laszlo’s dark eyes flicked away from the road. “Of course I have time for you.” Though he may not have time for himself.
They sat in silence for the rest of the ride. Laszlo worried about Stevie adapting to a school environment again while Stevie thought about what else he needed to fix the vintage car in the garage. Both were engrossed in their thoughts and tapped one foot against the floorboards. Laszlo pulled into the familiar, cramped parking lot. He sighed in relief when he found a parking spot in the back corner, thankful it was not a tight fit.
A booth in the back was available, the restaurant quickly filled up with the evening crowd, and Laszlo enjoyed the relative privacy. Stevie did not need the menu to know what he wished to order, and he slumped in the booth. Open house drained him, reminding him he would be returning to a traditional school in a week.
“Well,” Laszlo entreated, “first thoughts and impressions? I for one cannot get that loathsome coach from my mind. I do apologize for my outburst in the gym, but I thought it important that someone stand up to him.” He sipped his water wishing he had a cup of coffee or tea. Perhaps he would brew some at home so he had something to sip while reading his paperwork. 
Stevie blurted out, “He was a dick.” Laszlo glanced at him, but in a moment of silent agreement, he did not correct him. “And I hate that he’s both my gym and health teacher. I’ll be stuck with him all year long.”
“Unfortunately so. If he gives you any trouble, please speak with me. You know I am unafraid to fight others' battles.” 
Laszlo noticed their waiter approaching to take their order, so he stacked Stevie’s menu atop his. He knew Stevie’s order without asking, and he placed their order. In the meantime, Stevie struggled to find the right words. He did not want Laszlo to fight his battles, but he knew in a school setting Stevie could not resolve things as he normally would. Coach Connor would not take kindly to a lead pipe in the back of the knee. 
“I remember,” Stevie nodded. He decided to change topics as he picked at the paper straw wrapper. “I thought Ms. Sussman seemed nice. Science is my last class of the day, so everyone will either be tired from school or excited to go home.”
“True. It is near your locker, correct? So you will be able to take what you need and leave what you do not before going home?”
Stevie smirked, “I will, but judging by all the Google Classroom codes I think everything will be online.”
“Ah, how foolish of me,” Laszlo chuckled. “I have forgotten ours is the digital era.” He sighed fondly. “No more fountain pens and leather bound journals. It’s tablets, styluses and laptops.” 
Their conversation wandered back to Stevie’s teachers. Most would appear nice at Open House, and in the first few weeks, their true personalities would be shown. Stevie noticed Laszlo brightened when he mentioned Ms. Alice Greene, his language arts teacher. The bashful smile and cheerful eyes reminded Stevie of his face when the waiter at Delmonico’s served his food. Laszlo’s first words praised her handmade and decorated cookies, and Stevie thought he saw traces of a smile. He praised her choice of books for the course and how each was insightful and provocative. Stevie commented it was likely the school or district’s choice rather than hers, but Laszlo did not seem dismayed. 
Just as well, Stevie thought. He had not seen Laszlo so excited or passionate about something, or someone rather, in months. Stevie wondered if he could encourage this or nudge the two closer together. A comment here or there to plant the seed. 
Besides, distracting the Doctor with teachers, books, and plans was better than letting him analyze him. Stevie did not want to talk about how nervous he was to be a fish out of water. Typical freshmen were not a year older than their classmates, nor did they have a record. 
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Alice waited in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, for Bitsy’s “here” text. She absentmindedly snacked on an open bag of chips while scrolling on her phone. Her professional shoes and dress were long gone and replaced by an old pair of sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt. 
Georgie, her handsome tuxedo cat, petulantly meowed at her and broke her from her trance. It was past his dinner time, and he demanded to be fed. Alice consoled him in an affectionate tone, apologizing for the late meal. He pranced around her feet as she prepared his food, and he only stilled to eat from his bowl. She scratched behind his ears to apologize again. He purred, so she knew he would forgive her.
Alice checked her phone again and saw Bitsy’s text from two minutes ago. She opened the door to her little apartment, marketed as cozy, and saw her friend coming down the hall with a pizza box in hand and her overnight bag slung over her shoulder. “Next time,” Bitsy huffed, “we’re meeting at my apartment.” Alice laughed and held the door open. Her apartment was on the fourth floor whereas Bitsy’s lay on the first. Naturally, there was no elevator.
“Name the time and place.” Alice nudged Georgie away from the door with her foot. The last thing she wanted to do was chase him down the hallway. He sprinted back to his food bowl to finish his meal. Bitsy set the pizza box on the counter and grabbed paper plates from the cabinet while Alice pulled the wine bottle from the fridge and poured two glasses. 
She considered her glass which was easily the equivalent of two or three. “I’m glad today is over. I’ve had enough of parents questioning my abilities and if I should teach their child as if I’ve never taught before.” 
“And it’s only the beginning.” Bitsy clinked their oversized glasses together. “Wait until a child fails for not completing any work and then the parent wants to pin it on you, or they demand you change their grade for doing and turning in no work.”
Alice took two slices of gooey cheese and pepperoni pizza. “And of course, it’s hard to fail with the new policy.” 
“Don’t even get me started on that,” Bitsy groaned. Half the teachers hated the policy, but it was beyond their control. It came from the district superiors who never set foot in a classroom and insisted their decisions would revolutionize education. “Tell me about this infamous DILF instead. Did I see him? More importantly, can I see him?”
“I think you would know if you did,” Alice chuckled, “Although with a boyfriend your DILF radar may be off. Dark hair and eyes, well dressed, and a touch of an accent. A little older, too.” Here, she emphasized each word, “Exactly my type.”
Bitsy grew serious, furrowing her brows and leaning forward over the cluttered table. “What’s his name?”
“Kreizler,” that alone was enough to send Bitsy reeling so Alice spoke swiftly, “Dr. Laszlo Kreizler. I don’t like that face, Bits, you’re scaring me. Who is he?” Georgie sensed her stress and hopped into the chair beside her.
Bitsy took a long sip from her wine glass before explaining. “He’s a handsome man, I’ll grant you that, but terrifying too. Lucius knows him from the station, and he sees him all the time at court. Says he’s like a hawk ready to swoop in and criticize or defend at any moment.” Alice nodded along, eating her pizza and chips. “He’s a psychologist, specializing in children and criminals, interestingly enough.”
“Weird combination but okay.” There must be a use for that.
“He’s a professor too, but I can’t remember which University. Local, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Alice doubted he commuted out of the city.
“And if I remember correctly, he also runs a daycare after school type thing for underprivileged children and those in his court cases. It’s got some weird name that always makes me think of an asylum or a mental hospital.”
“Busy man then.” If she felt she had no time, she couldn’t imagine being him. He’s burning the candle at both ends. “And the boy that’s with him, that can’t be his son. They have different surnames.”
“No, he’s not, but I don’t know how they’re related or how Dr. Kriezler has him. Could be a nephew or maybe a godson.” 
“Hmm…” Alice knew him to be a serious man, it was in the way he dressed and carried himself, but she did not expect him to be involved in so much. Respectable. “He’s still a DILF though.”
“Absolutely,” Bitsy chuckled. 
In some ways, it made him more of a DILF. He was clearly passionate and dedicated to his work. Laszlo was busy, but he must be organized if he could manage so much. And he cared for Stevie though he was not his son. All the makings of a dad she would like to fuck. If only it wouldn’t cross professional and ethical lines… Alice emptied her glass.
Next chapter
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