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scoutswritingcorner · 1 year ago

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The Monster That Lurked

Alastor x GN!Reader

A/N:Hey hey! I'm in a really angsty mood and decided to write a full fledged fic about my own work of ‘Monster In The Woods’!!! YAY!!! ALSO A FRIENDS TO LOVERS DEAL- SUE ME. Also you can picture Human Alastor or Alastor anyway you want cause I don’t really describe him much except for what he is wearing and I picture Alastor a certain way in my head. This got long I apologize.

TW: Set in the 1920-30’s, Human Alastor and his murders. Pre-established relationships, cheating, Alastor “stealing” you away from your husband.Alastor and Reader have known each other for a long time already. Reader is also some sort of fucked up, in like the murder way. Talks about cheating, fighting, Gore, Christianity and religion in general. MURDER VERY MUCH MURDER

Word Count: 7k

1927, the days filled with laughter and partying whilst listening to jazz standing with your husband..well you were waiting outside a sleazy bar for your husband, the same drunkard that your father had married you off to. He wasn’t your first choice neither was he your last choice. You would’ve been fine not marrying anybody and just living your life hidden from prying eyes, you would rather be somewhere in the Louisiana bayou with Alastor. Just sitting and listening to him ramble on about a new show he was talking about or how some poor lad got on his bad side.

But yet you were standing on the sidewalk in front of a sleazy bar with even sleazier patrons as you stared at your husband through one of the windows as he hit on the same poor dame that served him. He cheated all the time and yet you never cared, was it because you never truly loved him or was it the fact you’d rather picture his own death while he begged god for his sins. You couldn’t tell anymore and a part of you didn’t want to know anymore. The other part of you wanted to delve deeper into your own thoughts, wanted to open the door that was locked and barricaded for your own good. You wanted to understand what it felt like to rip flesh from bone and see how long it would take for him to lose consciousness from the blood loss.

A loud honk from a passing car made you jump out of your skin and look around, feeling the small box in your pocket, it was supposed to be for your husband but he didn’t deserve it, he would’ve just sold it eagerly for some kind of money to waste his life away. That’s fine you knew a man who would appreciate it more than him anyway. The same man whose voice was happily broadcasted on every radio for miles around, you could practically hear his smile through the radio static and fuzz. Your heartbeat a little faster than it should’ve just thinking about him, he was your friend and that was it. Friends don’t have crushes on friends. This was just a way to spoil him for being a good friend of yours. Right?

You couldn’t bother him right now, you knew better so you did what you always did. Went back home and made yourself busy until he eventually made his way over to your house. He was always quick enough to get to your house before your drunken husband did but stayed around long enough (i.e in the early hours of the morning) so you wouldn’t have to deal with anything unnecessary and you eventually went to bed. Then he would’ve disappeared for a few days but he came back around. You didn’t question him or his ways, you knew better. A part of you did want to question his motives but you held your tongue like you always did.

Your husband wasn’t a necessarily violent man..just dumb and constantly drinking, said some nasty words too. If it wasn’t for you, Alastor would’ve probably done him in by now. Especially when he was talking bad about his Mother, you saw the way Alastor stared at your husband. The same angry look you gave him when he had gotten on your last nerve. But before Alastor could get to him, some other patron did. Knocked your husband’s nose sideways and a tooth completely out. Bastard deserved it completely and till this day you don’t visit that place. You needed a fucking drink thinking about your husband but the bastard drunk your house completely dry.

A knock on your front door snapped you out of your thoughts and as you turned towards your front door, the man of the hour had walked through your door. A huge grin plastered on his face, one hand holding a bottle of whiskey and in the other today's paper. “Ah ha! There you are, My Dear!” He called out his suit absolutely spotless. A smile formed on your lips as you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, waving him towards one of the only rooms your husband doesn’t enter. “You had me worrying there for a moment,” He said tilting his head back towards you as he led you to the parlor room, “Maybe that husband of yours was back from wherever he was lurking.” He finished his smile falling into a snarl, Alastor was also not a huge fan of your husband from the start. You never asked why as you both didn’t want to think of him during your little time together.

“Please..you know better than I do that he’s hitting up on a poor dame at the bar.” You replied, sitting the glasses down on the table causing him to make a noise in acknowledgement, “At this point, Alastor..I’m believing you're a mind reader with how you just appear with whiskey in hand at my front door.” At that? He let out a loud belly laugh leaning in closer to you allowing his gaze to soften as he stared at your features before he leaned away opening the bottle of whiskey. This was going to be a long night for the both of you and you had forgotten all about the gift.

~~~

A couple weeks had passed since you last saw Alastor in person but you didn’t fret, he had called the next day to tell you he had made it back home safely. Something he had picked up ever since you had asked him to stay the night so long ago, you were-..are still scared of your own thoughts. The ones that dare creep out, the ones who tell you to crack open your husband’s chest and rip out his still beating heart. The ones who you don’t dare tell a soul and you sure as hell won’t tell Alastor, he’d think you're insane. But you knew..you were slowly losing yourself and everyday it was one step closer to killing your husband.

Walking into the kitchen and rolling your eyes seeing your husband looking like hell, “Hungover John?” You hissed out as you moved past him a grunt falling from his lips in reply, “Shut the fuck up..” He hissed out speech still slurred as half assed venom dripped from his tongue. “I wasn’t the one up at 1 in the morning drinking with that no good radio host.” You froze your hand twitching towards the knife on the counter but stopped yourself, “I wasn’t the one who was at the bar drinking his sorrows away whilst trying to bed another dame for the twentieth time this week.” You hissed back, sending a glare towards him.

John stood up fully and walked towards you getting into your face, hand raising to no doubt strike you. But nothing came as someone cleared their voice, an icy cold tone to it. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Friend.” Alastor..fuck you forgot about him and his way of just walking into your house. You had drunkenly given him a key one night, ‘Just in case’ you told him. You were glad that you did because as soon as he heard Alastor’s cold voice he immediately backed up and stormed off deeper into the house.

Alastor’s cold gaze had followed the poor idiotic man as he disappeared into the home before they snapped back onto you. “Are you alright?” He asked the venom and anger laced in his voice gone but you saw how his eyes still held his anger, like they did when that fool had talked bad about his Mother. You often had envy and wished that you could know a mother’s gentle hand guiding you towards a better life. But criminals only give birth to criminals, your mother had left the Earth so long ago you don’t even remember what she looked like anymore but sometimes when you look into a crowd you see a familiar figure and a part of you becomes elated before it crashes and burns into the ground.

“I’m fine, Alastor.” You replied softly as you glanced down the hallway where your husband stormed off. Alastor sat silent watching your face keep still but the sadness in your eyes was apparent, he knew you yearned for freedom and solace. He knew how you would rather be a thousand miles away from your “husband”- God he hated that word and man, if he could’ve he would’ve killed him a long time ago. Walking over he softly hummed, “Let me take you out on the town, Dear…a way to get your head cleared.” He whispered, reaching over and carefully placing his hand on your shoulder. He watched your eyes once almost so lifeless and dull flicker to life at the thought, “All day?” You asked, glancing at him, the warmness in your eyes returning, a small smile forming on your lips. Hook…line…and sinker, he’s got you right where he wants you, perfectly safe in his hands.

“Of course, Dear! Now go on, go get dressed!” he hummed his smile, returning as he guided you to go down to your own bedroom which was supposed to be the guest bedroom. You never explained why you had moved bedrooms but he didn’t need to guess or ask. It was abundantly clear to anyone who had stepped foot in your household, this “marriage” wasn’t full of love. It was only necessary and after the first year of it, you had grown cold. That man had taken away any semblance of your hope and happiness for a better life. Alastor hummed a tune that played from his radio broadcasts as he looked around your home, he’s seen the decor and fake photos that hung up on the wall a million times but yet it never gets old. Especially when he’s staring at the photo of you on your wedding day, the way the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “What are you still doing here?” A slurred voice asked, causing him to calmly look over. His smile grew wider at the sight of the boy in front of him. That wasn’t a man..far from it. “Good to see you at least a little sober, Jonathan.” He hummed, dodging the question thrown his way.

“Shut the fuck up, Alastor.” John threw back, moving closer as Alastor’s eyes darkened. Just a little closer..and then he’d be gone for good. “John!” You yelled out making the man flinch and Alastor’s heart raced, oh how he loved hearing that venom lace your tongue; it was always a delight to see how commanding you were when you wanted to be. When Alastor first met you, you were quiet yet happy and you hadn’t been married to this fool. Such a lovely little mouse minding your own business when you had accidentally bumped into him. He wouldn’t believe anyone if they said meeting you would change his life. You had spilled wine on his suit, yet you didn’t freak out when you saw his eyes flicker angrily. Only apologized and paid for his new suit with the money you had been saving up to leave for good, he wouldn’t find that out until a year later.

John looked over at you with anger but soon he once again stormed out of the house cursing you and Alastor. Alastor looked over at you with a gentle smile returning to his lips as he guided you to the front door. “Come now~ Let’s paint the town red, Dear” He called out laughing at his own little joke making you roll your eyes at his antics. Silly man.

~~~

Hours happily passed by and the day turned into night from swinging into tailors and from jazz clubs to socialite parties so you both could secretly judge people between hushed breaths, he eventually led you down to a park that was lit up with lampposts every so often before sitting down on a park bench under the moonlights soft glow. Your laughter had died down into a comfortable silence as you glanced over at Alastor. His leg crossed the other one, “I haven’t seen someone so eager to play the fool in one of those parties.” He laughed out, tapping his thumb on his knee, “Something on my face, Darling?” You jumped and looked away, “No no..sorry I..I’ve been lost in my own thoughts recently, Alastor.”

He looked over at you, you were unusually silent the whole night. “Can I tell you something?” You asked, watching as you finally looked over, oh he could never get used to those eyes of yours and that darling little smile was everything to him. “Of course, Darling.” He reached over and carefully plucked a stray leaf from your shoulder, his attention fully on you. You looked down, hands trembling..you had to tell him, you could tell him right? “Nevermind it, you’d think I’d gone insane.” You corrected and cleared your throat leaning back into the cooled bench. You felt uncomfortably hot despite the cold air, winter was right around the corner.

Using his hand to rub at his chin as he hummed your favorite tune he played on air, this piqued his curiosity much more than he’d like to admit. “I’d never think such a thing, my friend!” He replied throwing his hand up in the air as if to actually try and swat those thoughts away from your mind. “Tell me whenever you feel ready to do so, my Dear!~” He was always willing to listen to you even if it was about nothing, your voice was practically music to his ears. Closing his eyes as a cold breeze hit his face as he continued to hum along to fill the silent night, he suspected it was your..’husband’..the cause of all your misery. The way your honeyed voice was now constantly laced with venom and authority as if you had to fight to even allow your voice to be heard. Your silence had felt like an eternity for him but he knew it had only been a moment or two, he didn’t realize how addicted to your voice he had become.

“I..I’ve been having thoughts.” You started making him look over at you, his eyes narrowing in concern at your form, how small you had looked at the moment. He had leaned forward and took his jacket off before draping it over your figure not minding how the cold nipped at his skin but he didn’t interrupt you, he knew better to do so. “Angry thoughts..well they started out that way but now they’ve turned into something more..violent.” You explained carefully pulling his jacket closer to your frame, eyes casted off in the woods. You imagine some man standing there, blood covering his hands and drenching his shirt, a wicked smile on his face as he looked up into the night sky and laughed out loud for god to hear him.

Alastor followed your gaze as his humming slowed down until it completely stopped to allow the silence to fill the air, his smile pulling into a more sinister one at how he finally understood. The same one that happened to find its way on his lips after killing his latest victim, he quickly rubbed his hand over his mouth allowing the smile to drop before you could catch a glimpse of it. “I think of what it would feel like to rip flesh from bone..to finally choke him out..I want to know what it feels like to snub out a life..his life. I’m not a violent person and these thoughts terrify me, I try to keep them hidden but…sometimes they slip out.” You finish up finally noticing how tight your throat felt and the tears falling down your face. It felt great to finally get that off your chest but now the anxiety of it all set in, would he rat you out to the police? Would he hate you?

“I don’t remember when they started. Was it when I was forced to get married to him? I’d tell myself I can save enough money and start somewhere new..but then I’d miss you..miss your early morning show and our late night talks.” You confessed spilling your problems out onto the sidewalk like a drunkard when he had spilled his guts on the pavement. You were pathetic in your own way. Alastor watched you for a few moments before carefully pulling you into his side, using a handkerchief tucked into his vest pocket to carefully wipe your tears away. “No more tears, dear friend.” he whispered, allowing you to hide your face into his shoulder as his arm wrapped around your waist.

He was at a crossroad in his own mind, should he tell you not to go with it? He wouldn’t want you to go into this dirty mess. But he also wants you to feel the rush of adrenaline when snubbing out a life, he wants to help. But either way if you did or didn’t he’d take care of it..in some way or another. No one should hurt his little mouse in such a way and get away with it. It was silent for a long time as you calmed yourself and he held you with a softness that was foreign to himself and most others.

“I always..I always imagined running away with you..to some old house down near the bayou.” You whispered out feeling the familiar chain that hung on his vest, the one hidden under his jacket. He leaned his head against yours and hummed in reply. It sounded picture perfect in his mind.

~~~

You sat at the church pew next to your ‘husband’ and kept your head down as you listened in on the priest doing his normal sermon. The only time your husband had decided to not be drunk and clean up for once in his life was always on Sundays or when his family was coming over. Something you always ran away from, you stayed in the empty parlor with a glass of water and a small book. His mother was never kind to you nor his sisters, you chose to ignore them and their gossip. Especially when you had to be seated around them in a church talking about a man who you possibly didn’t believe in but was instead forced to hear this priest talk about whatever was in the bible. Your hands clasped together as your mind kept drifting off.

It had only been two days since you told everything to Alastor, your feelings and how you wished to murder your own husband. You haven’t been able to talk to Alastor since which was fine, he was a very busy man after all. Lifting your head up as you felt your husband nudge your leg with his own, you sent him a glance ignoring how he was practically glaring at you. “Don’t embarrass me infront of my family” He hissed out as you glared at the wall. “They already know how rocky our relationship is, John.” You hissed back, about to leave but someone sat next to you keeping his head down, “Sorry I’m late, Dear Friend.” Alastor whispered, making the anger dissipate in a matter of seconds, “Mother wanted to go see an old friend,” He hummed and got comfortable next to you.

After an hour or maybe it was a good 10 minutes you couldn’t tell but Alastor had successfully dragged you away and out of the church under the guise of it being important and he couldn’t dare interrupt the sermon. You didn’t care now as you laughed at some joke that was pointed towards your husband, walking down the street arm in arm as he used his other hand to dramatically explain everything that’s happened between the hours you both had parted. The crying and confession long gone in your mind as you pointed out the flaws in his story but he had only reached over and pinched your nose between his fingers with only a half hearted threat of keeping his ‘secrets’.

As you both walked down the street the laughter and conversation lulled into a peaceful silence. “Where are you taking me?” You asked, feeling a familiar presence in your pocket, the gift you had forgotten about for weeks now. “Just for a walk through the park, Dear.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a smile had formed on your face but your eyes still had that faraway look in them. Guess you were going back into your own head again, “I got you something a while ago and forgot it in my jacket” you called out reaching into your jacket and pulling the small box out, you didn’t want to bring up the fact it was supposed to be a gift for your husband. Alastor abruptly stopped in his tracks and looked at you, “You didn’t need to do such a thing, Dear.” You only smiled at him and gave him the box, “I know..but I wanted to give it to you.” You whispered out watching as he opened the box, his eyes widening. It was one of the newer pocket watches that you’ve had your eyes on for a long while now, “Dearest I..I couldn’t take this.” He replied carefully, taking the watch out, flipping it open and smiling. “But you can..and you will cause it’s for you, Al..”

You loved seeing him smile like that, something that you had rarely seen when you first started hanging out. It’s still mostly rare, especially when he’s had a hard day or the simple fact that you sometimes don’t see him for days on end. He put the pocket watch back into the box carefully, “Guess I’ll have to find to pay you back now?” He hummed out placing the box into his pocket causing you to sigh, “You know you don’t have to do such a thing, Alastor. I..I don’t deserve it.” Only criminals give birth to criminals and criminals don’t get nice things.

“Oh but I think you do,” He replied and leaned down to gently tap your forehead, “Despite what those thoughts of yours tell you.” You blinked and stared at him, “You know me too well,” You huffed turning away from him. “Not well enough!” He called happily following after you and quickly catching up, long legged bastard. You looked up at him as he held out his arm, “Are you sure about that, Alastor? I think you know me better than most people.” You said carefully taking hold of his arm, he chuckled and quicked his step making you practically had to speed walk to catch up with him.

The night truly didn’t stop until you were almost on the verge of passing out from laughter and how sleep creeped up on your shoulders. Alastor’s arm was snuggly wrapped around your waist to keep you upright as the sandman was practically calling your name. “Come on now, one foot up the step.” He whispered as he guided your sleepy self up onto your own porch. “I can walk fine, Alastor. I’m not drunk,” You whispered, shaking your head trying to fight off how your eyes grew heavier. You don’t like being up past a certain time in the early mornings but for Alastor you would’ve done it a million times over….Maybe you did have a crush on him but he wouldn’t love you back in a million years.

You don’t remember when you got into your bedroom, did you black out on him? Yet he was still holding you against his chest as he swayed you to an imaginary rhythm. “And here I thought you had fallen asleep on me already.” He whispered out, causing you to jump out of your skin for a second before you huffed, “Sorry, didn’t mean to do so.” You replied leaning back to try and smooth out his shirt, now noticing his jacket was draped near the door of your bedroom. “Nonsense, I find it comforting in a way that you trust me to fall asleep near me.” He replied watching you, his bow tie had been undone for a couple hours now but watching the way you had subconsciously fixed it for him made his heart race and butterflies erupt in his stomach.

His mind wandered off watching as you blinked the sleep from your eyes to make sure he still looked presentable. He wondered sometimes what it would be like if he married you instead of that idiotic man. “..Don’t leave for too long this time, Al..I know I’ll eventually hear your voice on the radio but sometimes it’s not the same..” You whispered out glancing back up at him, his gloved hand reaching up to cup your face tracing the bags under your eyes with his thumb, “I’ll try, Cher..” He replied as he leaned down to press his head against yours. He couldn’t promise it but he’d try especially since he has been working so hard on his plan to get rid of that idiotic husband of yours.

You leaned your head up, allowing for your noses to brush against one another. His arms were still wrapped around your waist, one of his hands splayed on the middle of your back. Then it had hit you, all those times he had pulled you away from your husband and took you to the places you loved..was he silently courting you? Had he been doing so for days now and you were just too stupid to notice? You gently cupped his face and watched as he had opened his eyes, when did he close them? “I..Alastor? Have you been courting me?” Your voice was only above a whisper making him freeze in his tracks. He was silent for a long time before he nodded and sighed. “I have been yes,” He replied and you felt your face warm, seemingly all of the tiredness from before had dissipated.

His gloved hands came up to carefully grasp onto yours as your thumb caressed his cheek, a faint scar that had healed overtime. You remembered when you saw the scar, yet you never asked, figuring he would’ve told you when he decided to do so. He had yet to say a word about it so it must’ve not been important. In the years that you had known him, you’ve grown to love him and to be wary of him all at the same time. He was a wild mutt waiting to sink his teeth into any fresh meat he could find, he wasn’t the one to be tamed or “domesticated” and you surely would never think to tie him down to a preconceived notion such as marriage or a family life. It took someone truly special to worm their way into his heart and that was a tough act, nonetheless, he had picked and prodded at the worst parts of you wanting to see how quick it took for you to finally snap at him, show your fangs and reveal your weak spots to him. He loved the game of it.

Yet here he was, the same wild animal that used to raise his hackles and bare its sharp teeth was essentially laying down and showing his belly to you. He’d disappear to find his fill and get those fangs bloodied before he’d make his way back to you. Maybe everyone who told you to stay away was right, he wasn’t a man to stick around but here you were inviting the man into your home day after day because you just couldn’t get enough of him.

Blinking your thoughts away you focused on Alastor, how he had leaned closer to you. “May I?” He whispered, ever the gentleman he was, his hands carefully squeezing yours as you nodded your head a small smile on your lips. Wordlessly, he closed the gap and gently kissed you. At first it was such a small kiss but you didn’t want it to end, you just got a taste of what it felt like to be loved..actually loved and it felt amazing, that one small kiss turned into a bigger one as his hands fell down to hold onto your sides.

You would be asleep until lunch the next day, the memory still fresh on your mind as you awoke to find a small gift box on your bedside table. You were going to kill Alastor.

~~~

You sat in an office, legs crossed as you watched the lawyer in front of you collect some papers and give you a passing glance every so often. “Now, it’s to my knowledge you are looking to file for a divorce?” The man asked, causing you to nod, “Now is there a reason for this divorce?” You huffed, how many times did you have to explain it? “Infidelity, I’ve caught him one too many times and I’d rather make this quick.” You huffed out venom lacing your tongue as you watched the older gentleman nod and produced some papers.

After an hour of signing papers and making everything on record you had finally gone home. You didn’t even greet your husband when you walked inside, just placed the papers on the table and left for the day ignoring how he yelled out for you. You had walked all the way to the park, the same park Alastor had walked you to all those weeks ago and you spilled your darkest secrets out into the open. Sitting on the same bench as you watched people pass by as your eyes drifted to the woods, you also knew Alastor was an avid hunter and you’d be alone for a while longer as deer season came around. You’d be alone with your husband and your thoughts. You hoped this divorce would go through but it was a slim chance and then you would rightfully be kicked out of church for thinking of doing such a thing. Laughter rang in your ears as you got lost in your own world, your eyes glued onto the Doe walking out of the collection of trees to find something to eat on.

As the doe finally found something to snack on it had turned its head up and towards you. A small part of you felt a twinge of dread as you stared at the doe and the other part felt calm as the feeling started to grow and settle into the pit of your stomach, your breathing slowed down considerably before the doe had run off seemingly spooked away. You frowned and watched as it disappeared further into the woods. Gloved hands clamped down onto your shoulders making you jump up in surprise and let out a loud scream as Alastor’s laugh was heard from behind you.

You turned on your heel ignoring the passerby who looked on in confusion, “I’m going to kill you, Alastor.” You hissed out trying to hide the prominent blush on your features and how your lips creeped up into a smile. He smirked, he knew you didn’t actually mean you would kill him. Your version of ‘kill’ meant you would simply get him back later in some kind of fashion. You were a smart person after all. “I’m sorry, Dear! You were so out of sorts you looked primed for me to scare you.” He hummed and moved to sit down on the bench, his hand patting the spot next to him. You let out a loud sigh sitting next to him, “What’s on your mind?” He hummed out fixing his gloves before moving to brush imaginary dust off his pants.

You were silent for some time trying to figure out the words in your head, “I gave John divorce papers today.” you whispered out causing him to look over trying to hide the growing smile on his face, you still haven’t brought up the kiss you both shared the night before and you were scared to do so. “Really?” He hummed, leaning back against the bench using one hand to tap a melody on his knee, “I’m just waiting for him to sign it and see if the court will..allow the divorce to happen.” He didn’t answer and looked ahead as the conversation lulled into a comfortable silence. Your mind raced as another cold breeze hit you in the face, what would you do if the court denied the divorce? Would Alastor still..be by your side? The thoughts raced and raced but before you could delve deeper, a warm inviting hand was placed onto your shoulder causing you to look over at him confused but leaned into the warmth.

“It’s going to be okay, Dear. Don’t let those thoughts run you ragged now.” You nodded at his words and smiled, “Figured you’d be out hunting by now.” That made him let out a small laugh as his smile grew wider and went off on a tangent about hunting and how to actually be a good hunter.

You’d be fine.

~~~

You’d be fine.

Those were the words echoing in your head as you were now standing in your kitchen hands on the counter as you stared down at the broken glass cup as you heard your husband yell at you. The amber liquid is now spilling onto the wooden floor, your cheek burned like hell and you tasted the iron in your mouth as you unclench your jaw allowing your teeth to free themselves from your tongue. You stormed over to the phone and used the rotary dial to call a familiar number that you had stuck in the back of your mind. Alastor. You don’t remember the start of the conversation. All you could mumble between the stinging pain and blood in your mouth was, “Come over..It’s an emergency.” Before hanging up abruptly.

The next few moments were quick in your mind but you knew it took far much longer to do as your hands trembled. Grabbing whatever heavy metal object you could find in the vicinity, as your husband turned to face you once more. The fear in the man’s eyes as you swung and hit him in the face, breaking his nose with a sickening crack. He fell to the floor, his hands moving to cover his nose as he stared up into your empty anger filled eyes, god..it felt good to see him as nothing but a pathetic ant beneath your feet. It felt invigorating as you dropped to your knees one hand holding him down as you continuously bashed the item into his face until he was nothing more than a lifeless body surrounded by a pool of his own blood.

You stared down at him and then the blood covering your hands as tears formed into your eyes and a sob bubbled up from your throat but you weren’t sad. Far from it..you were relieved as you looked up at the ceiling falling flat on your ass as you started to laugh between horrid sobs. Your hands grasping at your shirt laughing louder until your cheeks hurt from how long you were smiling and as Alastor finally came into your vision. The smile faltered for a moment as another loud sob wracked your body, “I did it, Al..I did it-” You choked out as you curled into yourself. “It felt so fucking good..I felt fucking invincible.” You hissed out blood dripping from your mouth and onto the floor. “Oh god- I finally fucking did it.”

Alastor walked over calmly and quietly, his hands clasping on your shoulders. His suit was long gone as when you called him he was in the middle of getting ready to go out ‘hunting’ but when he heard your desperation, he rushed over immediately. “You did and I’m so proud of you, Dearest..but go get cleaned up and I’ll deal with the mess, yes?” He whispered into your ear as you let out another sob allowing him to help you stand up on your two feet. As he helped you to your own bathroom and got you fresh clothes, he went back to the freshly dead body in your kitchen and smirked. “Got what you had comin’ old boy.” He hissed out before starting to get to work cleaning up the mess.

It didn’t take him long to clean up but now he had to find a way to actually get rid of the body. In your backyard? No, that's too suspicious..in the woods? Maybe but he doesn’t want you to have another breakdown. But he would have to wait until night time so right now? He’s going to have to play the part just in case people start to suspect something. He looked around and draped a blanket over the body before dragging it towards an empty room.

When he had walked back to the kitchen, he had watched as you were carefully cleaning up the shards of glass. Walking over he had finally noticed the blooming bruise on your cheek causing a part of him to be angry. “He hit you?” He whispered out helping you stand up, “Yeah..after we got home after the court denied the appeal..said I embarrassed him and broke a cup over my head before slapping me.” You whispered your speech slurred from your swollen tongue making you flinch, “What do I do now?” You whispered out, allowing him to gently grab your chin, “I don’t know what to do, Al..” His eyes softened and he sighed, “Sit down and I’ll cook something for you, Dear. We are gonna have to wait till nightfall.” He hummed, pressing a gentle kiss upon your head.

Later that night, he had helped you bury your ex husband deep in the forest, he mostly did all the dirty work but he did explain how to hide a body.

~~~

It was now 1931, four years after you had killed your ex husband and a year after the economy collapsed. You and Alastor had moved in with one another and while not officially married by the courts you both loved one another and acted as such. Wearing a wedding ring on your finger told everyone you were either remarried or you still loved your poor ex husband that was murdered in cold blood by the rampant serial killer that was on the loose. Which would be far from the truth.

His family blamed you for his murder, calling you every name in the book and berating you for ‘kicking him out of the house’ which also wasn’t the truth. Yet another lie your ex had spun to keep his pride intact, you didn’t care in all honesty. The man was gone now..killed by your hands.

But here you were walking down the dark streets of New Orleans to get back home to your loving Beau, you had heard through the grapevine he was having a rough day and hoped to cheer him up that night but as you continued to walk down the street you realized that you were being followed. But maybe not maybe it was just your paranoia, but still you felt like a waiting duck, taking a turn down an alleyway and then another hoping to lose the trail of whoever was following you.

It wasn’t until you had gotten to a familiar part of town out near the bayou that you felt relatively calmer but then that was stomped on when you heard a yell from behind. You looked back thinking it was one of the friendly neighbors but it wasn't. It was the man from before the same one who was following you. You dropped the book you were holding and broke out into a sprint down towards where your house was, trying your best to dodge anything that could hurt you. Then a loud shot rang out and it sounded like thunder causing your body to freeze up for a second. But you continued to keep running, you just needed to get home..you could see the smoke billowing from the chimney and the soft glow of the lights inside.

Your heartbeat was banging on your chest as you ran, you were almost there..you could see Alastor inside before a loud SNAP echoed through the silent air as you fell face first into the ground.

You scrambled to get up sobbing as you looked back to see a trap digging into your leg, its sharp teeth scraping against bone as you sat up watching as the man got closer. “Fuck fuck-” you hissed out as you started to painfully get the jaws of the trap unstuck and scrambled off ignoring how your leg was burning. You yelled out for Alastor before another loud shot echoed through the air. The constant buzzing of the cicadas had gone silent as you fell to the ground gasping for air. Oh god it hurt, your hands moved to clutch your stomach as you looked up at the man, pistol in his hand pointed right between your eyes, “You killed my brother.” He hissed out his voice breaking as you teared up and begged him to let you go.

Tears cascaded down your face as he yelled, whispering some prayer that spilled past your lips and then the night went silent. As the gun had fallen down the hammer hit the ground first causing the gun to be set off, the bullet flying into the sky of the New Orleans Bayou. You trembled laying on the ground sobbing as you brought your hands up to see blood covering them the moonlight had casted down upon you as you sobbed out. There was movement before your head was lifted up and cradled into your Husband’s chest. His familiar cologne invades your senses in a comfortable way as he shakily tries to stop the bleeding.

“It’s going to be okay, Cher..I’ll fix you right up.” he whispered into your hair as he pressed his hand onto your stomach. You were bleeding out too much as your breathing started to slow. No no it wasn’t supposed to end like this, tears raced down his cheeks as he pulled you closer as your hand weakly grasped around his sobbing out how you didn’t want to die. But he knew he couldn’t help you, he was far too late to properly help you and it was too far to get you to a doctor. “Sing me a song, Al?” You whispered out, “One last song?” he nodded and cleared his throat, watching as the light in your eyes slowly faded as he sung your favorite song.

He stayed like that for an extra hour, holding your lifeless body to his and singing all your favorite songs before he finally had the courage to find a place to bury you properly, making sure that when the sun rose the next morning it’s first rays it sent out over the bayou would hit your grave. You always did love watching the sun rise and listening to his broadcasts.

He would meet you again, he just knew it. He just didn’t know when.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor hazbin hotel #gn reader #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x gn!reader

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mxlti-lover · 2 years ago

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Sick {Paul Lahote}

Summary: You fell sick with a really bad cold, but how were you supposed to tell your werewolf boyfriend you didn’t want him to cuddle you?

Warnings: none, just a sad Paul.

Word Count: 1059

(P.S. please don’t judge too hard if this is terrible, I haven’t written in a while and I’m a little rusty…)

*do not steal or copyright any of my work pls and thank you*

You woke up that morning feeling horrible. Your nose was so clogged you could barely breathe and you had the worst honking cough.

You laid in bed, curled into a ball watching your favorite Disney movie. You knew you should tell Paul, but you didn’t really want him at the moment. Don’t get it twisted, you loved Paul to death, I mean, he was your mate, but when you got sick like this, his body heat didn’t help.

You knew he would want to cuddle you, give you some scalp massages as he checked up on you every minute of the hour, but right now, you just wanted to be alone.

That is until you heard the front door opening.

“Y/N! Baby! Where are you?!” Paul shouted.

You knew he probably sensed you weren’t okay as he still had an hour before he usually got home from patrol. Probably talking Sam into letting him leave early.

“I’m upstairs!” You called out the best you could, your throat feeling raw from coughing.

You heard footsteps rush up the stairs and soon Paul’s tall figure stood in the doorway, scanning you over, a frown on his face.

“Baby…why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” He asked softly as he made his way over to the bed.

He sat on the edge of the bed as he leaned over kissing your forehead and cheek softly, checking if you had a fever.

“You’re burning up baby.” He spoke sadly, sitting up again to look at you.

You knew you weren’t a pretty sight as you hadn't gotten up at all that morning. Your hair probably a tangled mess, your nose probably red and chapped from how much you had to blow it and your face looking as pale as a ghost.

“I didn’t want to bother you..” You lied, as you spoke barely above a whisper. Your voice raspy as you knew you were probably gonna lose it soon.

“Baby, you wouldn’t be bothering me at all. I would rather be by your side taking care of you, than on patrol.” He says frowning at the idea of you being alone all morning like this.

You sigh as you rub your face sitting up, his hand coming down to softly push you back down.

“You’re not getting up baby. Whatever you need I’ll get for you. Now, have you eaten at all today?” He asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You shook your head no as you leaned into his touch, his warmth radiating against your skin.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” He says as he gets up and his figure disappears from the doorway.

You sigh as you curl back up into a ball, watching the movie again, guilt washing over you. You knew he would want to cuddle you, as his love language is definitely physical touch. Especially when it comes to taking care of you.

But you didn’t want his cuddles at the moment. Your skin was already burning underneath the thin blanket you chose, let alone having your own personal heater of a boyfriend coming to lay next to you.

You took a deep breath as you let that thought slip your mind for now, closing your eyes as your body needed sleep. That is until you struggled to breath again, groaning softly as you sat up, blowing your nose for the hundredth time that morning.

A few minutes later you heard Paul coming back into the room with a small tray. On it sat a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a glass of apple juice - your two favorite things to have when you were sick.

You smiled up at him as you sat up in bed, fluffing up the pillows behind your back to sit more comfortably.

Paul set the tray down carefully into your lap as you immediately dig into the soup, humming softly as the warmth from the soup soothed your throat.

“Thank you.” You whispered as you looked up at Paul.

“You’re welcome baby girl.” He says sitting down next to you as he leaned over to kiss the top of your head.

He looked over at the TV as he chuckled softly at the movie that was playing. “Should’ve known you were watching this.”

“It’s my favorite movie to watch when I’m sick.” You protested shooting daggers at him as he raised his hands up in defense.

“I know my love, I was just messing with you. Now finish up your soup and I’ll give you some well deserved cuddles, yeah?” He says leaning over kissing your cheek.

You nod as you put on a fake smile, sighing into the bite of soup you took. How are you supposed to tell your boyfriend that you don’t want him to cuddle you?

~ ~ ~

It’s been 10 minutes now since you finished your soup and your boyfriend immediately pulling you into him to cuddle.

Your head laid on his chest, as your arms wrapped around his torso like you usually would. Your legs tangled with one another.

You will admit that it was nice for the first few minutes, sighing contently as you closed your eyes. But now, it was starting to become unbearable. Your skin felt like it was on fire, as you began to squirm uncomfortably.

“Paul, can you please let me go? I can’t do this anymore, you’re making my skin burn up more than it already is.” You mumbled as you tried to get out of his grip.

He looked down at you, hurt. He let go of you as you moved away from him, panting softly to yourself as you enjoyed the cold air hitting your body.

You knew Paul was hurt, and you didn’t mean for it to come off so harshly, you just needed to get away from him.

Paul watched as you relaxed feeling terrible that he made you feel even more uncomfortable than you already were.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything..” He spoke barely above a whisper, as he leaned over, kissing the crown of your head softly, before getting up, exiting your room.

“Paul, don’t leave! I still want you with me.” You begged as you tried to reach out for him, but he continued to walk out your room, upset with himself that he made his girlfriend uncomfortable.

~ ~ ~

I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!🫶

- Paige

#paul lahote #paul lahote x y/n #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote x you #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote blurb #paul lahote fluff #paul lahote angst #twilight #wolf pack #jacob black #sam uley #quil ateara #embry call #jared cameron #seth clearwater #leah clearwater

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wynnyfryd · 1 year ago

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Trailer park Steve AU part 30

part 1 | part 29 | ao3

cw: Steve Harrington committing unforgivable thought crimes (besmirching LotR)

"Uh," Steve stammers as Eddie tugs him off the couch, because he just propositioned the guy while covered in snot and tears and wearing a blanket as a cape, and now that guy is holding his hand.

Eddie doesn't let go after he gets him to his feet. Their fingers lace together, and his palm is soft and warm, his fingers slightly callused. Steve can feel his own pulse pounding in his wrist.

"Simmer down," Eddie teases, "I'm not having sex with you. Yet," he adds with a lewd waggle of his brows when Steve puppy-dog pouts at him. "This is better than sex, anyway."

"If you're having shit sex, maybe.” Steve rolls his eyes and lets himself be dragged past a messy counter, where Eddie stops to grab a black lunch box and a cassette tape, a tissue for Steve’s face, then down the hall to Eddie's bedroom.

"My kingdom," he grins as he shoves the door open and waves Steve through with a bow.

His room is amazing. Awesome and terrible all at once: awesome, because it looks like someone put Eddie’s essence in a blender and ran the blades without a lid, and terrible, because the place is a fucking pigsty. There’s a bag of bread on the floor.

Eddie tells him to make himself at home, so Steve plops down on the edge of his bed, takes in the explosion of artwork tacked to the walls while Eddie buzzes around the room — swoops and swoons like a drunken bee, kicking shit into messy piles, sticking a cig in his mouth and forgetting to find the lighter, turning on the stereo. He pops in the cassette, and Steve lets out a surprised laugh when he hears the upbeat strumming.

"Rumours? Really? That's your 'better than sex' cure?"

Eddie cranks the volume. "It's workin’, ain't it?" he mumbles around the unlit cig.

Steve tries to frown and fails. "…Shut up."

Eddie snickers at him; gives him the cutest smile he's ever seen, nose scrunched up, eyes crinkled at the corners, then he tucks the cigarette behind his ear and shakes his hair out with a grimace. “Christ, it’s hot in here." His hands move to the hem of his shirt. "Look away or don’t, baby, I’m changin’!”

Steve smiles and averts his gaze, falling back on Eddie’s bed and looking at the ceiling with his legs dangled over the edge. In his periphery he can see Eddie hopping gracelessly around the dresser, trying to tug his foot out of the end of his skinny jeans, cursing under his breath; dropping all the ‘g’s off the ends of his words.

"I like your Southern accent."

"Do ya now?" Eddie throws it on thick, really hamming it up, "Well then, I reckon it's plum near the most attractive dad-gum thing y’ever did hear 'round these here pawrts."

Steve honks a mortifyingly stupid laugh, which makes Eddie laugh like a chime in a windstorm, which just makes Steve laugh even more, and maybe Eddie was right.

Maybe this is better than sex.

He wipes at his eyes, misty for a good reason for the first time all night, and when he looks up again Eddie’s dressed in his pajamas. Dark gray gym shorts, a black cut-off tank, the arm holes deep and loose to expose his armpit hair, his ribs.

Steve’s mouth goes dry.

Eddie’s wiry and pale, firm muscle wrapped around his string-bean frame, and he's covered in tattoos — black line art and gray shading, fantastical beasts and staffs and swords, a crazily-detailed set of serpent scales snaking up his side. But it's his legs that catch Steve's eye.

His legs are covered in words. Words and doodles everywhere, from his calves to his thighs, the lines wobbly and thick like Eddie put them there himself. There are quotes in sloppy cursive, longer ones in blocky print; a few stylized to look like comic book dialog, the words POW! and DANGER outlined in spiky bubbles above his knee. Steve wants to trace the lines; rehearse him like a poem, learn each ink stroke with his fingers until he can recite them all by heart.

Eddie catches him staring and gives a small, pleased grin. “Like what you see?”

Steve’s tongue feels too big for his mouth. “Yeah. I really do.”

The smile widens. Eddie clambers onto the bed, stepping over Steve’s head and plopping down beside him with his back against the wall, one leg drawn up, the other stretched out long and loose.

Steve shifts to lay the same direction, and his shoulder brushes Eddie’s leg, his wrist ghosting against his ankle bone. He doesn’t pull away; likes the look of their skin tones side by side — the smooth desert landscape of his inner arm, accented only by a few veins and moles; the riot of ink and art all along Eddie’s shin. Eddie’s feet are bare, and they’re wide, a little hairy (reminds Steve of Dustin’s nerdy ring book, and he almost says as much, but he knows Eddie’s even more obsessed with that shit than the kids are. He really doesn’t want the dude to pop a brain boner and spend the next four hours lecturing Steve about jewelry lore.)

“What are you giggling at down there?” Eddie nudges at his elbow.

“Nothing,” Steve says, and Eddie responds “All right then, keep your secrets” in a silly character voice. He stretches to the side and grabs a joint off the bedside table.

“Now,” he says, voice slipping into that deep, slow sing-song thing he does — his sales pitch tone, Steve realizes. “This part is, of course, completely optional, but. In my humble, expert opinion—”

“So humble,” Steve teases under his breath.

“—It really enhances the whole experience.”

“The Stevie Nicks Therapeu- thera-” Oh, screw it. “Un-saddening Experience?”

“That is correct.” He holds it out over Steve’s face, wiggling it in offering, and Steve thinks about his conversation with Robin over brunch:

"I can't believe you did coke.” "I can't believe you smoked weed." "I know." "Was it okay?" He hasn't tried weed since... "Yeah," she answers seriously. "Yeah, it was okay. It was nice, actually."

“Okay,” he decides. I trust you. “Let’s do it.”

Eddie puts the joint between his lips and lights it up.

—

part 31

listen i know it’s a quote from a movie that will not exist for another 16 years just let me have this. tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my fic #my writing

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maxispixels · 1 month ago

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HANDPICKED

PART FIVE.

Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

1.4k words

You work at a flower shop in late 70s London and Hobie's being a menace. Slowburn? Probably will be around 10 parts. Strangers to reluctant acquaintances to friends to something more. Maybe a lil' messy?

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven. Part eight. Part nine. Part ten. Part eleven. Part twelve.

You forgot to ask his name. Again. You let him leave the shop and you didn't ask his name.

You rolled in your bed, holding your pillow on your chest, feeling all foolish. When did he start getting to you so much? Probably the beginning. This idiot’s mysterious act got you good, you thought.

Finding sleep had become a difficult task. Your mind was plagued with warm thoughts of him, while your body was desperately cold from the lack of functioning heating. Especially as the weather reporters announced this winter as one of the coldest in the decade.

The news was pretty depressing, with one sordid headline after another. You stopped reading the articles in detail. It was killing your spirits, and frankly you didn't need that. People were out on the streets, demonstrations increasingly frequent and violent. The whole atmosphere of the city had changed for the worst.

Your teeth chattered a little as you turned in your heavy blanket, a bottle filled with hot water resting to your feet.

Your eyelids finally grew heavy as a familiar silhouette filled your mind. That had become a regular thing as you fell asleep, his face haunting you. You didn't even fight it anymore, letting the memory of his voice echo in your mind and lull you to sleep.

The night had been restless, filled with honking, police sirens, the distant screams and chants of protesters. You wondered if he went to that kind of event. Probably. The thought twisted your stomach—not just because it was dangerous, but because you didn’t want to imagine him as part of the chaos you tried so hard to shut out.

When morning light seeped through your curtains, you were reluctantly pulled out of Morpheus’ arms. You had to face a new day, and you really didn't want to, feeling the exhaustion adding up. It was a bit early — not early enough that you’d have time to fall asleep, but enough that you had extra time. After getting your breakfast of choice, you reached for your sketchbook.

At first, you didn’t notice anything unusual—just your own messy sketches of his face. Then you saw it: unfamiliar handwriting scrawled next to the portraits, on yellow sticky notes, careful not to ruin any of your pages. Your breath caught as you read the first line. ‘Basically forgot me, huh?’ Your eyes widened as you stared at the sloppy ink.

‘looks like the only thing you forgot is the shape of my nose’ You could hear the smugness in his voice just reading this.

This handwriting was messy but legible, he mixed uppercase and lowercase letters inconsistently.

Next to the pressed flowers, another note, reading ‘you kept them’, and at the end of the couple of pages filled with his portraits, he added, ‘flattered to be your muse.’

You felt the embarrassment grow in your stomach, bearing its ugly head. You didn’t know what scared you more—that he’d never show up again, or that he would.

It was signed with his name. You swallowed as you read it. Hobie. You repeated it to the walls of your home, tasting his name on your tongue, letting it twirl in your mouth like a wine connoisseur.

You couldn't figure out the taste. And before you knew it, you had to leave and go to work.

There was quite a mess in the street leading to the flower shop. Ashes from stuff burning during the night, trash all over, bins laying on the ground, glass scattered from broken front windows and the smell of sulfur in the air.

It filled you with growing unease, your guts twisting as you reached the shop. It seemed that this stretch of street had been spared the wrath of the protestors. You sighed as you unlocked the door, the sound of your keys melting into that of the bell above the door.

You did the bare minimum, only switching the water before going to sit behind the counter, not feeling like doing anything of substance.

Soon, Hobie came in. Much earlier than any other time, which was weird. You didn’t expect him. He gave you a familiar wave and none of you mentioned the sketchbook book.

He looked like he had gone through a war or something, his eye bags somehow even deeper, the hollow of his cheeks more defined. He gave you a smile, making your stomach do the familiar flip of… intimidation, yeah, that’s the word. Definitely intimidated by that gentle smile and mug.

You wondered if he’d been out there last night, caught in the chaos. Maybe that’s where the exhaustion came from.

He sat down on the floor, his back against the wall. He had curled up in the corner beside you, hidden from view. You looked down at him from the height of your stool. It gave you a new point of you, you never saw him from this angle.

“Comfortable?” You finally broke the silence.

“Very much.”

You had no idea what he was doing, but you didn’t ask. You think that’s why he kept coming back. Ever since the funeral incident, you learned not to be too curious. He’d talk if he wanted to.

At this point, you assumed this had become his resting place, warm and cosy. You wondered if he had that comfort elsewhere.

“Want some tea?” You offered.

“...Yeah, I'll have a cuppa.”

You stood up and headed for the back of the store, turning on the light. You almost sneezed at the amount of dust. Yep, this needed cleaning too.

You plugged the kettle in and let the tea infuse. You grabbed two porcelain cups from Rose, the delicate gold lining and flower paintings fitting the shop’s atmosphere. All of it was such an old lady thing.

You came and handed him one. He nodded and you two drank in silence.

The tea was comforting, for sure, its aroma spilling in the air and meddling with the sweet scent of flowers. It was hot on your tongue and warm against the palms of your hands, which was always welcomed in that climate.

You glanced at his form on the ground. He looked quite funny, all punk and scary, holding the small, delicate porcelain. It looked like a little girl’s toy in his large, scarred hands.

You weren’t sure whether it was the cuppa or his presence that gave you energy, but you eventually started to take care of some potted plants, tending to the soil.

You heard him follow behind at some point, watching you do some work as if it was a common form of entertainment.

“You’ve got a bit of dirt on your cheek.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You wiped it off with the back of your hand.

“Wait, no! Don't take it off. Adds character.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What?..”

“You look like you've been in a flower fight. It’s very avant-garde.” He grinned down at you.

“...” You glared up. “I’m going to ignore that because you look like you’ve been in an actual fight.”

He just laughed at that.

Soon though, you were both back behind the counter, as he took that warm spot in the corner. He looked quite relaxed, like he could doze off anytime.

You took care of the occasional customer, and Hobie kept it quiet this time. You were still a little mad at how good his last suggestion was, and a little more afraid of just how good he was at slipping into your life.

As the evening crept in, the cloudy sky darkened a little. You watched the last customer leave, happy as can be, holding a big bouquet of roses. You were a little envious of those people with places to be and company waiting for them.

You looked at the clock. Time to close. You expected him to stand and stretch like he had somewhere to be, but he didn’t move. You stood and turned around the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’. You also turned off the warm lights, letting the last bits of sunlight peak through the cloud to shine yellow rectangles on the old waxed floor.

“You’re still here,” you said softly, barely a question.

He tilted his head, the corner of his lip lifting up in that familiar smirk. “Guess I am.”

There was something in his tone, neither apologetic or teasing, instead weirdly honest. He didn’t seem in a rush to go, and for once, you didn’t feel the urge to make him.

You dragged yourself back across the shop and eyed him in his cosy corner. You plopped down next to him, tucking your knees under your chin. He didn’t say anything, nor did he tease you for your choice of seating. You didn’t notice he moved until you felt the comfortably heavy weight of his arms around your shoulders. He smelled of old leather, sweat and pine.

Without thinking, you leaned into him. Wordless, the moment stretched. You didn't feel the need to question anything.

You could get used to this.

Part six.

#hobie brown #spiderpunk #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown fanfiction #x reader #hobie brown x gn!reader #handpicked #astv fanfic

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prodbymaui · 2 years ago

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I Loved You (Dangerously)

drunk off that love, fuck my head up

PAIRING: lee jeno x reader

GENRE: infidelity

WORD COUNT: 1.8k+ words

WARNINGS: bulging kink, choking kink, strength kink (?)

SYNOPSIS: You're in a lovingly, domestic relationship with your boyfriend. Or so everyone thought.

A/N: first jeno fic, happy reading! please do leave your thoughts if you can! <3

Lively chatters, car honking, vendors selling. The sun has exchanged positions with the moon yet it is not the end of a day for the people of Myeongdong. The chilly breeze bites through your flesh, but you suppose you are to blame for not dawning a puffer jacket.

Steps quickening, your keys jingling in your hands as you head back to your apartment. Your phone pings and catches your attention, it displays an email from your co-worker but it's not what you looked at though. Eyes settling on the time, you glance where the picture of your lovely boyfriend smiling innocently and widely lies. A quarter after 8PM, he should be in his own apartment now.

Upon arriving, your doorknob twists easily, as though it wasn't locked. Did you forget to? You were certain you did before leaving. Carefully, you hold the door open, heart beating rapidly as fear creeps up on your spine. Am I about to die? Hopefully not. You have a lot of things on your bucket list and dying young isn't one of them.

The lights are on, and music fills the entire flat. That song is too familiar for you. Closing the door behind you, your eyes roam around, observing. Not even a minute and as if on cue, a man who wears the face of your boyfriend walks into your vision, seemingly fresh out of the shower. He then meets your eyes with no surprise.

''Great. You're home.''

You roll your eyes. Raking your eyes up and down on his body, heat burns your cheeks as you turn away, pursing your lips at the sight of water droplets dripping along his bare chest. You chuck your shoes off and head to the kitchen. ''Why are you here?''

You heard a scoff. Footsteps following your trace. ''Why not? I'm more comfortable here than at my own apartment.''

''Cut the chase, Jeno.'' You face him. ''What are you doing here?'' And when you only receive a grin from the man who's leaning on the wall, you sigh. ''Did you got fired again?''

''Ah.. you know me too well.''

Irritated, you shake your head and proceed to walk out of the kitchen but before you could, Jeno's already catching your wrist– preventing you from getting away. Tugging you closer, he offers a smile.

''Don't walk out on me now, babe.''

You click your tongue. ''Shut up.''

Chuckling, Jeno wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his nose on the crook of your neck. ''So feisty.''

Jeno runs his palms on your side up and down as he plants sweet sweet pecks on the vastness of your neck. His kisses then eventually travels upwards where he connects your lips with his. What a lighthearted kiss turns into somewhat a desperate one, swiftly licking each other's lips before sucking on them.

''Fuck, I missed you–'' Grabbing the back of your thighs, Jeno carries you with ease as he transfers both of you to your bedroom, his body leading him despite the lack of vision. It's like telling him 'Worry no more about tripping, you've been here enough that I've memorized every single thing.'

Jeno is lying if he says it doesn't fuel the smugness in him.

He slowly settles you on the bed, hovering over you, gripping your hips as your legs circle his waist. Pushing his tongue in, Jeno licks every wall, every part that he can reach. A drool escapes the end of your lips as you share the messy kiss with Jeno, groaning when his boner rubs against your clothed core, putting pressure on your clit.

A string of saliva that connects your lips is the thing you see before your top gets taken off of you and your bra flies somewhere in the room, the only thing your mind could fully register is Jeno's tongue flicking over your nipple as he keeps his fingers entertained with the other. The air thickens, and suckles echoes in your bedroom.

Pleasure shoots up your spine as Jeno grinds, angle perfectly aligned for the head of his cock to nudge your clit. You whimper. ''Jeno, fuck...''

But Jeno's ears are shut the moment he takes your nubs in his mouth, eyes closed as he savors the delish before him. Tightening your legs, you move to press your core onto him harder, hands squeezing his biceps. ''Jeno, please..''

Jeno snaps out of his daze at the vulnerability. A music to his ears, his eyes darken, once again he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. You squeak, body jostling as your pants and underwear get ripped off of you, thrown carelessly.

His fingers trace the line between your pussy cheeks, dipping a little before bringing it to his mouth, licking your wetness– tasting you. Jeno moans, head cloudy. Jeno takes in the sight of you after opening his eyes that he doesn't even know had closed.

''Please, Jeno..'' Breathing heavily, legs wide open for him, already looking so fucked out when he haven't even done anything yet. Jeno growls at the urge to eat you up, make you his.

Cupping one ankle, Jeno peppers kisses along your calves, eyes not leaving your figure. ''Tell me what you want. What exactly are you saying please to, baby?''

At this point, all your sanity had left you. Embarrassment? It was a thing of yesterday. Reaching up to Jeno, your next words snaps his patience. ''W-want your cock.. I want your cock in me.''

Smirking, Jeno pecks you again before going down on you, making out with your pussy as if it's your lips. His tongue wiggles, pulling out lewd moans from you, gripping the sheets in an attempt to prevent yourself from pulling his hair instead. Jeno flicks his tongue over your puffed clit.

''Fuck, Jeno–!''

A finger slides past your entrance, your walls engulfing the digit with warmth and velvetines. You're so fucking wet, there's little to no resistance. Another follows suit, Jeno scissors you properly all the while he enjoys himself in getting drunk from your essence and the music that is your explicit sounds.

Pulling his face away, his skin covered by your slick glistens under the bedroom lights. Jeno chuckles as your walls clamp around his fingers. He then curls them in an angle that prods at your spot sweetly, your back arches off the bed. Latching on your perky nipples, Jeno tugs his towel and gives himself pumps to tend his hard cock.

''Put it in..'' Jeno mumbles profanities seeing the desperation in your eyes as you stare at his angry leaking tip.

Before you could whine about the loss of his fingers in your, Jeno replaces it with his girthy cock, slipping inside as you moan in unison. Burying the rest of his cock, he presses your knees on your chest and starts a brutal pace that jostles your body to the headboard repeatedly.

''Jeno! F-fuck! So big.. it feels so good–!''

Jeno grips the top of the headboard as he madly drives his cock in and out of you, his eyes glinting with lust and something you couldn't decipher.

''When's the last time I had you like this?You're so fucking tight– you're suffocating my fucking cock. Look at that, baby. Look how your pussy stretches widely and sucks my cock inside. It feels good, huh?'' Jeno nudges your legs to a wide V, planting his foot on the bed as he gives it to you faster, harder, and deeper.

Looking down, he notices a bump that continuously appears and disappears in sync with his thrusts, growling in realization that it's his fucking cock that cause the bump in your belly. Gripping your waist, Jeno slams your pliant body to meet the snap of his hips, your breast jiggles and Jeno will be damned if he resists the urge to feast on them. God, he's fucking crazy for them.

''Oooh shit! You're so big and so hard inside me– ah ah ah– fuck! More! More, please–''

Jeno hums against your ear. ''More? Does my girl want more?''

Drunk in pleasure, you nod absentmindedly, nails raking down Jeno's back, creating red lines all over his skin. He slams a couple more times before taking a pity on the headboard that hits the wall due to your vigorous fucking. Jeno groans, scooping you in his arms, and pins you to the wall before hammering his cock inside you. Biting the junction of your neck, Jeno laps the red beads that seeps past your skin. The graze of teeth on your skin itches in pain yet you crave for more.

Wet skin slapping bounce in the room, wanton moans escapes you as Jeno snaps his hips fiercely.

''Oh, god!''

''Yeah?'' Jeno licks your tears. ''You like that? You love getting stuffed full of my big, fat cock, huh?''

Pulling you away from the wall, your eyes roll to the back as Jeno's length digs deeper inside you, so deep that you could feel it at the back of your throat. You cling to Jeno, drools dribbling down your chin as carnal ecstasy takes over the entirety of your body and mind. ''I'm coming..''

Grabbing your ass, Jeno bounces you to meet his thrusts, parting your cheeks to slide even deeper. ''Come on my cock, baby.''

Strained moan leaves your lips as Jeno sucks the pathway of your drool, feeling himself get closer to climax as your walls clenches continuously around him, painting his cock white. Jeno pistons his hips violently, eyes shut close. And when your hand encloses on his neck and tightens just the way it sends him an irreversible euphoria, Jeno holds on to his strength as he shoots strings of white, filling you up to the brim.

Breathing heavily, Jeno brings you back to the bed, fetching the towel to wipe down your mess before laying beside you, hugging you from the back. His loving kiss on your shoulder is the last thing that registers in your mind before drifting to a slumber.

As Jeno combs his fingers through your hair, a smile unknowingly appears on his face. You look so beautiful like this. So peaceful. Sure, you can certainly protect yourself but it still makes him want to gatekeep you from the harsh world so that you're out of harm's reach.

Though, Jeno knows it is impossible. The constant pings from your phone is a reminder.

JIHO: Hi, baby. I just got home!

JIHO: Mom asked for help to look for Jeno because she received a call from his work telling to pay for the damages or sorts.

JIHO: Sooo sorry I didn't send you a text!

JIHO: Are you gonna sleep now?

But as long as you don't stop him from having you, Jeno supposes he can ignore the fact.

The fact that you will never be his. And the fact that you're in this loving, domestic relationship with his twin brother.

#nct #nct smut #jeno smut #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct boyfriend #nct angst #nct fanfic #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno angst #jeno fanfic #nct dream smut #lee jeno #prodbymaui

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goddessofmischief · 1 year ago

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Hey! I adore your writing - everything feels like a character study and by that I don’t mean it’s lacking artistry I mean that each piece is so dynamically engaged with their internal worlds. Now I love me some Shanks and Mihawk but I am a Buggy Bitch and was hoping to get some time with him in this early on stage? If you wouldn’t mind, can we have a shot that shows why Buggy’s infatuation keeps going? Maybe a meaningful moment of kindness towards him or the like?

Thank you for your writing 💛

GOLD RUSH - BUGGY X READER

A/N: Dude, I was smiling all day because of this message. Thank you so much! This is part of this series, which requests are open for! These fics are all one-shots, so they can be read separately. Also I highly recommend listening to the song linked in the title while you read.

Shanks and Mihawk had loved you, for various reasons, for their own motivations, from minute one.

...Buggy hadn't fallen for your charms so easily.

You were suspicious to him. He knew well enough that if something appeared too good from the outside, it was probably a trap. So for a long time after Roger had rescued you and brought you home to live with the pirates, Buggy treated all of your actions as if they had been the exact opposite, and always indicative of some secret evil.

You were kind to him? Only because you hated him so much. You looked pretty? Only because you were disguising some inner, deeper ugliness. You were a strong fighter? Only because of all the blood on your hands. You were intelligent? Only to deceive him.

It took a long, long time, and many months and even a few years to really wear him down. But when that had finally happened, Buggy was yours for life.

He fell for you in not one, but two moments: this, he vividly recalled, was the first.

It was a stormy day at a small port when you and Buggy stopped into a tavern for a drink. Shanks and Roger had stayed behind to fix the ship.

He had watched you with the smallest amount of interest, as if you were an amusement, as if you were a pretty bug. His original interest in you, small as it had been to begin with, had gone completely downhill when he realized you weren't really the performing type. You didn't like jokes or attention, and you certainly didn't beg for it the way Buggy did. The two of you hadn't really been able to form a relationship anyway, considering you spent most of your time with Shanks.

He'd ordered a drink too big for himself, and watched as you sipped daintily from a small one.

"That's so little," he said. "What's the point?"

You shrugged.

"I like being alert," you explained. "Makes it easier to stay safe."

Buggy snorted, rolling his eyes and turning back to his drink.

Two larger, older pirates sidled up on either of your sides', eyeing Buggy, but mostly you.

"Hey, sweetheart," said one of them. "You know this guy?"

"Yes," you said quietly. "He's my friend."

"...This clown?"

Buggy stiffened.

"Fellas, let's not-"

Shanks would have said let them talk. Shanks would have sat quietly until they were gone, or maybe just snickered at Buggy's plight.

But that's not what you did.

"He's stronger than either of you," you said nonchalantly, and the larger pirate stared at you.

"Really? The clown?"

"Really," you confirmed. The two pirates looked at Buggy, menacingly.

"He doesn't look very strong to me."

"We'll protect you, sweetheart. You don't need him."

"Honk, honk," the larger pirate jeered, reaching for Buggy's nose, and completely without warning you reeled back and punched him in the face.

Buggy was not prepared for that to happen.

The two pirates stood up and leered over you, intimidatingly. Buggy was stricken by the sudden realization of how large they both were, and how comparatively scrawny the two of you were.

But he knew he had to protect you. (If only to keep Shanks from killing him.)

And so Buggy punched the second guy, wincing as his fist hit him.

He wished he was stronger. God, in that moment, how he wished he was stronger.

(He didn't have the Chop Chop fruit yet. That would've been great.)

But Buggy was scrappy, and he didn't need much of an advantage in a melee situation. He was a kicker, a scratcher, and a biter. You were more elegant in your movements - almost balletic, and Buggy resolved to ask you about it later - but both of you managed to defeat them, and make it back to the ship in mostly one piece.

"Thanks," he said, quietly, as you sat cross-legged across from him, applying eyeliner. You had offered to fix his makeup using your own, and after a lot of protesting, he'd agreed.

Your eyes lingered over him. He looked away, suddenly embarassed.

"What for?"

"For, y'know, helping me out back there."

"Of course," you said, smiling sweetly. "You're my nakama."

You applied a bit to your own lips before holding it out to Buggy.

"Um," he said. "Can you do it? I'm feelin' kinda shaky."

"Mhm," you hummed, carefully painting it on.

"Good?" he asked.

"Good. I do happen to like your nose, by the way."

"That's nice," he responded. "I like yours."

You grinned.

"I didn't realize you were such a fighter," Buggy said.

"I'm not," you confessed. "I'm terrified. I hate fighting."

"But you punched him."

"Well, he was being mean. And I knew you'd help me."

"How?"

"I don't know, it's what you do."

"Did you mean what you said? About me being your friend?"

"Of course," you said. "You're nearly all I have."

Buggy had never fallen in love with anyone before, if only because most of the time they hated him so openly before he could even consider it. But he thought that maybe tonight, under this sky, he might be in love with you.

The second thing that made him realize how he felt was later that night, as he fell asleep in the bunk under Shanks'.

"How was it?" Shanks asked, sleepily. "...Spending the day with her?"

"Oh," said Buggy. "It was alright."

"Alright?" asked Shanks, propping himself up to look at Buggy. "She's the best, what are you talking about?"

"You think so?"

"Well, yeah, I mean - she's smart, funny, a whole lot nicer than most of us-"

And while Shanks carried on about all these great things about you, two ideas bounced around in Buggy's head - first, how much Shanks was correct about all these great traits of yours, things Buggy had never dared notice before, and second, how much Shanks cared for you. It made him think that maybe there was something special about you, something he hadn't seen before.

And so Buggy told Shanks about your little adventure, and told him about what you'd done for him, and Shanks smiled to himself, and simply said "It's just what she does..."

What could he say? Buggy just loved how you loved.

taglist: @sawendel@twinklesnake@literaturewithliz@sordidmusings@foggyturtleknightangel@toertchen@96jnie@lunanight1021

#buggy x reader #buggy #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #op buggy #it was rare i was there

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wol-fica · 2 years ago

Text

-𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤 ℙ𝕋2-

pairings - wednesdayaddams x fem!reader

summary - you go on date with wife, you loose wife in crowd, wife goes feral, wife almost murders for you, wife finds you, all is well 🥹

warnings - knife to neck, swearing

an - married r and nes are my new favorite thing

———————

Wednesday was feeling overwhelmed.

She was scared, angry, paranoid, and on top of that she was murderous.

A simple date night was all you and her wanted to do on a boring Friday evening, but low and behold something had to go wrong. You had planned everything out perfectly, down to the discrete restaurant location for Wednesday’s comfort and the restaurant itself, styled as a gothic tap-bar from the great depression.

Perfect for the two of you.

But inconveniently, a rather famous singer was having a show for their world tour and the area they were performing at was a minute down the road from where the restaurant was located, meaning squealing fans were coating the streets and reeking havoc everywhere.

A rather large crowd had formed outside of the bar, but you and Wednesday had to get to your car so you could head home for the night. Inconveniently, you were very uncoordinated and would frequently loose things or yourself when out and even in your own home, and almost as soon as you stepped outside, your hand slipped from Wednesday’s.

Panic invaded her senses, her head whipping around frantically in search of you. People were crowded shoulder to shoulder, shoving each other in an attempt to get into the arena on time for the concert, so it was quite hard to find you.

“Y/N?!” Wednesday called out, her eyes scanning for your familiar face.

She thought she heard your voice in response, and turned her body towards the sound, but was immediately shoved and practically thrown into a light post by a group of fan girls aggressively running past.

Her head smacked into the metal, her hands slipping past the pole as she tried to catch herself. The feeling of a warm liquid trailing down from her forehead made her wince, but she couldn’t focus on that now.

Wednesday stood back up, her nose scrunched in discomfort as she began to walk around in search of you, her wife. The amount of people had died down, but there were still enough that she couldn’t see you.

She walked back towards the restaurant, hoping to find you waiting there for her instead of potentially being trampled by a bunch of fans; she did not want to picture that.

Giggling flooded her ears and she slowly turned her head to the left, a frown etching itself upon her lips. One of the girls from before was chatting away on her phone, utterly oblivious that she had shoved Wednesday earlier.

Her face darkened, and before she knew it her legs were bringing her over to the girl. A small dagger slid out from her sleeve and into her hand, in which she swiftly brought to the girls throat.

“Put the phone down.” Wednesday said, the blade caressing the girls foundation-caked skin.

Her other hand found the back of the girls throat, pulling her head back harshly. Her black eyes bore into blue ones, a murderous aura clouding her judgment.

“Where is she.” Wednesday asked softly, her lips grazing the shell of the girls ear.

“Who? What?” The girl was panicking, her breathing becoming rapid.

“Don’t make me slit your throat, WHERE. IS. SHE.” Wednesday growled, the dagger sliding incredibly close to the girls jugular.

“I don’t know!” The girl cried, looking around frantically in search of help.

Wednesday hissed but retracted her weapon, sliding it back up her sleeve and briskly walking away from the distressed girl. She crossed the street, ignoring the honks of oncoming cars, and proceeded to stalk the sidewalks to look for you.

She walked for a few minutes, maybe 10 total, before she spotted you sitting on the curb sporting a bruised cheek and what looked to be a sprained ankle. Her emotions flared, hands clenching into fists at the thought of you getting hurt.

“Y/N.” Wednesday stated as she came to you, sitting down next to you.

You looked up, surprise and relief washing over your face at the sight of your partner. Immediately your hands reached for her, pulling her into a side hug as your face went into her neck. She held you, running her hand up and down you arm as a means of comfort.

“Amor…” She said, trying to pull back so she could inspect your injuries, “Let me see you.”

You sat back up, a dopey smile on your face as Wednesday checked out your bruise. Once she was satisfied that it wasn’t open or infected, she the turned to your ankle. Her hands gently grasped your leg, pulling it out and up so she could see your injury.

“Nes I’m fine..” You tried to say but she wouldn’t listen, her focus on your ankle.

“It’s sprained.” She confirmed after you hissed when she tried to turn it.

You groaned, rolling your eyes and slumping your head forward in defeat. Suddenly, a hand cupped your jaw and forced your head up, eyes locking with Wednesday’s feral ones.

“Never,” She started, her voice low and menacing, “will you disappear from me and hurt yourself in a crowd.”

You gulped, nodding profusely as she stared you down into submission. Her eyes softened slightly and she sighed, letting your face go so she could wrap her arms around your shoulders and pull you upright.

“Can you walk?” Wednesday asked, watching as you attempted to limp forward and almost fall.

“Nope.” You quipped, popping the p and turning to her with a lopsided grin.

She rolled her eyes and proceeded to pick you up bridal style, her arms right around you so you would not fall. A blush coated your face, your neck and ears going red with embarrassment.

“Nes..” You mumbled, but was cut off with a gentle kiss to your unbruised cheek.

“Quiet, you are injured.”

“But this is an extent.”

“Would you rather crawl after me? I can drop you and watch you act like an old dog.”

“No!” You yelled as her grip loosened, your arms flying to her neck for support.

Wednesday hummed, holding your closer as she walked in the direction of where you parked. You leaned yourself into her, your head resting on her shoulder in exhaustion.

“Thanks for taking me on a date.” She murmured, kissing your temple.

You laughed, an infectious sound to Wednesday that made her heart feel disgusting and soar with love.

“Anything for my raven.” You purred, pressing your lips to hers.

———————

kxksndnncjdjdje

taglist:

@crystal-lily-101 @aahdiieb @rainbow-love4ever @imhungry-andtired @theafterofnevermore @k1mba @dreaming-of-u @thenextdawn @alexkolax @aspehr @captainbeat @littlegaybutterflysblog @sayaisrotten @i984 @fall-08 @cursedchar @efectoangel @tundra1029

i do not give permission for anyone to repost or copy my work onto any other platform

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majesticanna · 11 months ago

Text

Just hold me—

When his secretary came in with a cold days ago, Miles sent him home early. He sanitized the secretary’s desk and his own office for three hours. Miles did not like getting sick, and he did not believe in allowing his subordinates to work when they were ill. Efficiency and well being went hand in hand, and he could allow him to go home while still maintaining his long schedule as a Chief Prosecutor.

Unfortunately, his body has other ideas about his health. He sneezes the first day, the second comes with a pinch behind his nose and a tension in his head, and the third, he can not get up from bed with the pain from the congestion.

“You need to rest,” Phoenix says, as he wipes Miles’ face with a damp cloth. Miles tries to push him away, but he remains adamant about his ministrations. He grabs a tissue from the bedside table and holds it to his nose. “Blow.”

“Noooooo,” Miles says, voice blocked with mucus. “I don’t want to.”

“You’ll feel better when you can breathe. Blow.”

Miles frowns, and then he blows through his nose, a loud honk following. Phoenix cleans up his snot and then deposits the tissue in the trash. He uses the cloth again to rid his nose of any sticky residue before leaving to take the cloth to the laundry.

“Thank you,” Miles says, when Phoenix returns. “You should go to work.”

“I already told Athena and Apollo. Trucy will help assist them, but they’ll be fine, dear.” Phoenix pulls up the sheets and lays down, scooching closer to him.

“Nooo,” Miles says. Weakly, he pushes him away. “You’ll get sick.”

“Will you feel better if I cuddle you?” Miles says nothing but lets out a soft whine. “Then come here, you stubborn man.”

They meet in the middle. Miles rests his head on Phoenix’s chest. His fingers pull through his hair, playing with his silky strands. He speaks to him in a low timbre.

“I saw a beautiful pen the other day. It had a nice, dark ink, and it moved across the paper so smoothly. Still, it was flexible enough to write or sketch with.”

“Did you get it?” Miles asks.

“Not for me, but for you. It’s sitting on your desk at work.”

“I want the pen,” Miles says.

“You’ll get to use it soon. Did you listen to the song I sent you the other day? I keep thinking of the lyrics anytime I play it when I look through documents.” Phoenix hums a few bars and Miles taps his fingers on his chest, the sound resonating beneath his ear. He doesn’t respond. He should probably take some more medicine soon. “It’s such a nice melody. The artist wrote it for her boyfriend when he was only able to send letters to her. Such a sweet story. I think she put a picture on her wall…”

He falls into a light sleep to his musings. He doesn’t wake for the rest of the morning; instead, he basks in his warmth.

—

Written for my sick beloved, who is now feeling much better! Hope this heals a part of your heart that just wants to be held <3

#wrightworth #narumitsu #fanfic #majesticfic

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peachebo · 1 year ago

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Cool.

1. Who is predominantly in control of ennard? Elizabeth? Circus baby? A combination of all of the funtimes?

2. Was Elizabeth aware eggs was mike before showing up at their house or did she just think he was William?

3. Does mike actually like ennard or does he just tolerate them because his sister is in there?

4. Has mike ever tried to get them to replace or change the mask? I'd imagine a pure white clown mask isn't very subtle when out in public.

5. Does mike know their nose honks?

woah, alotta questions..

let's go then

- canonically it prob would've been Elizabeth, but in my case it is like a combination of all the personalities. so Enn is kinda controlled by themselves idk..

sometimes tho different animatronics take over them and it's funny because it looks just like whild moodswings

- i don't think william is the guy who invites an animatronic abomination in his own house (plus he had even built a whole bunker to keep them away as much as possible)

Liz recognised her brother at the moment Mike offered them home. she was like "oh so it's you, asshole. almost killed ya, how unfortunate"

- at first he was afraid of them even with a thought that there is his little sister inside. then he became sceptical. he does tolerate Enn bc they didn't kill him. but of course Mike has a soft spot for Enn due to the bond they have together as a family. and he wants to be.. a better brother for Liz this time

- you really had me thinkin stuff.. maybe will draw smth for this idea. but no, he hasn't tried yet

- yep. and he uses it to piss Ennard off in argument

thanks for your questions!! your attention means a lot to me

#cheby answers #i still dont know if it is a good nickname #ennard #fnaf sister location #michael afton #happyending!au #eng is not my first language #so sorry

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destielbeatlesminibang · 9 months ago

Text

Title: When My Mind Is Wandering (There I Will Go)

Author: rachelindeed

Artist: sidewinder

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Finale fix-it: In order to save Dean's life, Cas has to temporarily take him as a vessel. While Dean's body heals, they decide to explore what a life outside of hunting could look like. On a volunteer trip a few towns over, they are reminded of the beauty of community. And as Cas's thoughts mix with his own, Dean learns how freeing it can be to see himself through the eyes of someone who loves him.

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, minor background Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy, Consensual Possession, Angelic Possession (Supernatural), Developing Relationship, Romance, Healing, Fix-It, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On (Supernatural), Post-Finale

Posting on June 25

Keep reading for a short excerpt.

It wasn't just senses, emotions, and words that flowed back and forth: memories joined the tango, too. Dean could always tell which were Cas's by the hyper-focused detail. Angelic memories weren't tied to the data limits of human brains, so they held onto everything like fancy honking celestial IMAX cameras. When Dean remembered some conversation they'd had years ago, it was the normal kind of approximation where he could paraphrase some key things said, tell you if there'd been rain or sun, maybe grasp a general image of how Cas had looked in the moment. Meanwhile, Cas could still count the raindrops on the driver's side window, still see the tiny shadows on Dean's face as his eyelashes caught the light.

It was kind of funny seeing himself that way, but honestly, not as freaky as he might have expected. Sure, the fact that Cas had perfect recall and instant replay on every stupid thing that'd ever come out of his mouth was not ideal. But Dean had been prepared for something a little more…acid rock? Psychedelic? Far out? He’d kind of figured he wouldn't be getting out of this without staring down the gullet of his own soul. And it's not that he'd wanted to look at that mess on the regular, but just once might have been cool. Just to know.

Turned out, though, that 'seeing' souls was a matter of multi-dimensional fusion, and Cas couldn't plug Dean's eyes into that. It'd be like trying to teach his ears to taste or his nose to hear.

"OK. But what's it look like, anyhow?" he asked Cas. "My soul?" It was late, very late, on their last night at the hospital. Physical therapy had been its usual unpleasant cocktail of boredom and misery. The headache radiating back-to-front across his skull was screaming at him to bust out, get drunk, just move. But going home felt like starting the timer back up on figuring out his life, and he wasn't ready for that either. So he brought it up because he could, and he was curious. Maybe you could call it fishing for compliments, too; so sue him.

He'd had a rotten day, but Cas thought he was beautiful. They were living in each other’s thoughts, there was no hiding that. Whatever Cas saw in his soul, Dean was betting it'd be just a bit poetic. Stars, fireworks, snow on a mountainside; vague grandeur, the type of stuff somebody might print for a calendar.

But Cas was lost for words. He did his best to find Dean an answer; focused for sincere, silent minutes on crafting some apt description or honest comparison. Dean felt him shiver—a tiny, charged, silvery thing. But in the end, a little helpless, he only said:

It looks like you.

#destiel #supernatural #the beatles #destiel beatles minibang

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weolucbasu · 2 years ago

Text

So, @da-proti-toku-grem kind of inspired me to make a lengthy post, sharing some positive vibes across the fandom, listing the reasons why I love each member of Joker Out and why I would go full mom-mode on them and cook for them and bake them gluten-free cookies.

Anyway:

A Joker Out, brain-rot, appreciation post

(members listed in alphabetical order)

Bojan

First up - as someone who had the chance to see them live, he is an insane performer

His ability to enchant the crowd is insane and you can tell really well that he has great acting abilities too

Watched him in Gospod Profesor too, spot on for someone who is a so-called amateur

His singing voice is... amazing to say the least, it feels really unique

Also, the way he talks, the sound of his voice, the words he uses, his pronunciation, if there were awards for talking he would get one

The languages he speaks, I want to study him, linguistically, he is truly a phenomenon

We of course love a bilingual king

He looks like he has his priorities straight

I also respect him so much for how open he is about his mental illness

I might relate to him a bit too much at times whoops

And the fact that he can somehow befriend literally anyone??? Love that

His friendship with Jere is the main one of course

Oh yeah and the fact that he literally helped people who collapsed at their gigs a few times

Bless him, he deserves all the rest he is hopefully getting

Jan

First things first, I have a soft spot for math guys

And the way he talks about math is fascinating (but you still won't get me to like it Jan)

Cat dad???? We absolutely adore Igor and a man loving cats is such a green flag

I know people say he mumbles a bit and it's hard to understand him at times, but idk, he talks nice and slowly, so it's still really easy to understand him

He comes from my home region, so I am very biased haha

Also, every band needs a guitarist with luscious locks

He absolutely owns the colour red, that colour was invented specifically for him

The nose ring suits him so well too, this man KNOWS what fits him

And if that ends up being jackets with nothing underneath when he performs, THEN SO BE IT

I know people call Kris the lesbian icon, but from what I've seen lesbians are very drawn to Jan as well

Oh, and he gives me Klaus from the Umbrella Academy vibes (I blame the hair and the pink boa)

Jure

Holy shit, sunshine in human form????

The most underappreciated one in the band imo

His surname literally means 'cat' and I am so normal that Jan has called him 'muca'

He also comes from my region haha, bias again

He's really good at filming, he actually shot a few things for RTV (national TV station) and edited them as well, god, talent

Also playing drums... I have sang, I have played guitar, played bass, but drums is something I feel like I could NEVER do, so hats off to you

As @da-proti-toku-grem pointed out, THE MOLE ON HIS LIP? weak knees, yes

He also reminds me of a good friend of mine and I vibe with him so much, I feel like I would vibe with Jure as well

I really don't like the fact that drummers tend to get ignored and I just wish there was more Jure performing content

Though I love it how every time, during Novi Val, he comes to the front and hangs with the others

His hair also looks so soft and fluffy aaaaaa

Again, biased but he resembles my bf the most out of everyone so hmmmm

Kris

The baby of the band! (and the only one in the band I could actually call 'mulc')

In case you didn't know yet, he's half Dutch

And he speaks Dutch, which, as someone who speaks Dutch (in theory, not in practice) makes me really happy

I wish to study him linguistically as well

Also his parents' story feels very close to me, as I'm dating outside of my culture as well

According to him he was menace as a kid and I think we should normalise the fact that you can become a better person as you grow up

But pls don't honk at me on the road Kris, pls, I will cry

The songs he wrote??? NGVOT and Vse kar vem??? Oh boy, I love them, adore them

His holey sweaters are also a vibe

Dutch fans, if you don't shower him and the rest of the band with gifts at their Dutch concerts, I will be mad

Also gotta honorably mention Maks

They gotta be my fav nepo-but-not-really babies out there

Kinda like Maya Hawke?

I am ranting

He also looks like the only member of the band that I would fight, and idk why

Also, I must know if he supports Max Verstappen haha

Minus points for chemistry though, I cannot with that

Nace

Okay everyone

Here we go

We have reached my beloved

I love all of them, but Nace just a bit more

It was love at first sight, I cannot lie

I have a soft spot for bassists and he might actually convince me to try and play bass again

He has been playing it for so long too??? like wow

Oh and of course; THE TATTOOS, BLESSETH BE THE TATTOOS

I will always go feral about his tattoos

At every concert

I know he was the last to join the band but it looks like he fits in so nicely, it's beautiful

Strong mom-codded dad friend vibes

He kinda is the dad of the band haha

And he looks like he gives amazing hugs (lucky all of you who had managed to get one already)

A nice addition to the band

Oh and he's apparently shit at sports which is like... felt

Plus the fact that he wanted to be a vet?

Me too boo, me too, but neither of us is there now

Anway, I'll stop now. In conclusion, this band has my whole heart and they deserve every good thing that happens to them and so much more.

#joker out #nace jordan #jan peteh #bojan cvjetićanin #kris guštin #kris gustin #bojan cvjeticanin #jure maček #jure macek #bee's rants #this probably makes me sound so delulu but I swear I am not #though i will admit #i have yet to have gone outside today #anyway let me know what y'all think about our boys

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clownpudding · 2 months ago

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My clown is acting up!!

Hey, clown fam! First-time clown caretaker here, and I could really use your wisdom. I recently adopted a sweet little Harlequin from the shelter (named Bobo—super original, I know), and everything was going fine until last night when things got… chaotic.

I came home to find Bobo standing in the middle of the living room with his pockets stuffed full of spaghetti. I don’t even own spaghetti. When I asked him where he got it, he honked his nose twice and handed me a business card for "Gary's Discount Noodles." Should I be concerned? Is this a territorial thing?

Also, he's been trying to balance everything in the house on his unicycle. Shoes, a potted fern, my cat (don’t worry, Mittens is fine, but she’s purring suspiciously now). I tried redirecting him to his juggling balls, but he just stuck them in his oversized pants and sulked.

Do you think this is a sign he’s bored? Do I need to up his enrichment? I read online about setting up a mirror maze, but my apartment’s only 500 square feet, and I’m afraid he’ll just install a funhouse door and start charging admission again.

Any tips for handling spaghetti hoarding and unicycle obsession would be greatly appreciated! Should I book him a session with the clown whisperer, or is this a normal part of clown adolescence?

Please help—he’s currently trying to train Mittens to play the kazoo, and I don’t think my landlord will be cool with this. Thank you!!

#clown care #clown husbandry #harlequin antics #pet clown #spaghetti hoarding

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sssammich · 1 year ago

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ficlet: in pursuit of calm, lena/kelly

rarepair time, the superior guardiancorp edition.

born out of this headcanon and some chats with @sideguitars because why not LOL

anyway here you go, have fun!

There are four three things at this moment that Lena knows to be true:

There is a flickering bulb in her lamp desk that she hasn’t asked Jess to fix yet. She should, it’s been three days. But she keeps getting distracted that she forgets and then she walks away from her desk only to come back, turn it back on, and have it flicker randomly in her face.

Her coffee is tepid. Because she keeps getting distracted and she forgets and then she walks away from her desk only to come back, lift the mug to her lips, and taste the liquid be anything less than the perfect temperature.

Andrea texts her that she just picked Kelly up from the airport. Kelly, the woman who Lena left in Metropolis becaus Lena couldn’t be the one to get left behind. Kelly, the woman who has not escaped Lena’s mind since she left for National City. Kelly, the woman who just came back from her last and final deployment, and who’s in town to visit their mutual friend. Kelly, the woman who she never stopped loving, not even once.

Lena has no idea what to do with this information.

She purses her lips, her body sagging uncharacteristically in her office chair.

“Jess,” she says finally, pushing herself up after signaling to to call her assistant.

“Yes, Miss Luthor?”

“Reschedule the rest of my meetings for the day. I need to be somewhere.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, no doubt Jess trying to look at her packed calendar and troubleshooting this complete derailment on their day.

“Of course, Miss Luthor,” Jess responds eventually. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

"She looks at the flickering bulb on her lamp and flips the switch to turn it off. “No. That’ll be all.”

Lena considers going to the nearest bar. She considers going to the park for some fresh air. She considers a list of many other destinations she could be driving herself to. Yet where she ends up is to double park in front of Andrea’s penthouse knowing who is up there with Andrea.

She imagines soft dark skin. Black hair pulled into a tight bun. The gentle slope of a nose. The perfect cupid’s bow of her lips. The cute mole above those very lips.

More than anything, though, Lena imagines a kind smile and kinder eyes.

Her reverie is interrupted by a honk behind her, a car urging her to move out of the way.

She glances up the highrise apartment building before she drives home, instead.

She does not get a lot of sleep that night. She wished she did, hoping the three refills of scotch she consumed during dinner—nevermind that she had such little appetite for any of said dinner—would have lulled her to sleep by now.

Instead, she recalls the time before.

They were circling one another, working up to something. Until, of course, Kelly had gotten a call, one that deployed her far too soon for either of their liking. The U.S. Army reminding them that Kelly’s schedule wasn’t yet her own.

Which meant that it wasn’t yet Lena’s own, either.

Restless, she gives up on sleeping and instead walks out into the bathed darkness of her empty penthouse, the slivers of light from the waning moon coming through her living room window.

She does not know what to make of Kelly’s arrival in National City. Lena had left her old life in Metropolis, thinking that she’d left Kelly there, too. Yet now, here they were. The closest they had been in 18 months.

Lena taps her phone screen on and unlocks it before scrolling through her photos until she reached the last image the two of them took: side by side at the gun range in front of Lena’s shooting target, all bullseyes. Kelly’s lips are on her cheek, and the smile on Lena’s face is one she hasn’t seen since.

It’s…the happiest she’d ever seen herself in a long time. Mostly because this was the day before it all came crashing down on them.

She shuts her phone screen off and trudges to the kitchen to get herself a cup of water, drinking it in slight desperation that a droplet of two escapes the corner of her mouth and slips down her chin.

She wipes her face and wipes the water, though as her fingers meet her skin, it surprises her even more to find an errant tear having cascaded down her face.

Lena returns to work. She is business as usual. She goes through her meetings. She puts annoying shareholders in their place. She does not look to her phone for messages from a certain someone. She visits her lab. She talks with her R&D team. She fights the urge to message first.

The rest of the week goes much the same, an exercise in self-control. Or so she says.

By Friday evening, she is alone in her office having pushed Jess out the door knowing that her assistant has a date and should go have fun.

“Before I go, there was this one last message that came through just a little while ago. I apologize for missing it. It must have dropped from the pile.”

Lena waves her off and accepts the sticky note graciously, the sticky part on the back a little tacky against her finger.

She waits until Jess leaves before she reads it. Lucky thing, too, when she realizes what the message is and who it’s from.

She checks her watch before rushing out of her office, haphazardly pawing at her lamp to turn it off.

She enters the restaurant, giving a name she hasn’t uttered in 18 months to the host before walking behind him. When he steps aside, Lena finds her sitting, waiting. Like she expected Lena to show up. Like she was so sure.

She hates her a little bit for it, if she’s being honest. But Lena finds it’s hard to deny her.

“Lena,” she says, her voice a dulcet tone, having been absent from Lena’s ears for so, so long.

“Hi.”

Kelly pushes her chair back slightly and stands, her posture perfect even while at ease, and approaches Lena. She allows her, of course, mostly because she’s rooted in her spot. Kelly then leans forward slightly, but pauses to see if Lena will stop her. She won’t, of course, and leans herself, allowing Kelly’s lips to press upon her cheek.

“I’m glad you came.”

“I was surprised to see your message with my assistant.”

Kelly grins a little, tilting her head slightly. “I didn’t want to assume, that’s all.”

18 months ago they had a similar dinner, but instead of catching up, they were breaking up. Or, rather, they were reaching the conclusion of a relationship that never truly began, at least formally. Lena had been a goner since the day they’d met at the shooting range just shy of four months before that. She’d wanted to get some lessons in and found Kelly at one of the stations hitting her target with precision. Lena had been impressed, but when Kelly glanced at her and offered a polite smile, Lena immediately wanted to know her name.

“You’re fine. So, tell me. How have you been?” she asks, leaning forward, her eyes never straying from that beautiful face. Not like Lena had a choice, really.

Kelly tells her, glossing over what Lena knows are gorier and harder details about her deployment. She can only fathom the terrors of war that Kelly has to carry inside of her, just hidden beneath a radiating smile.

In turn, she talks about her move to National City. About L-Corp. About the life she’s been living, angling her words just enough so as not to touch any of her sadness, of her heartbreak she’s been nursing for almost two years. If only because she knows that Kelly knows, that Kelly seems to be nursing the same thing.

They close the restaurant down and the two of them walk quietly out into the gray darkness of the evening, highlighted only by the lampposts of the sidewalk.

“Are you back for good?” she asks, the question having sat on the tip of her tongue since Lena first heard of her arrival.

Kelly smiles, her face a little solemn, but her smile still shining. “Yes.”

She nods, processes this information for all that it is, and perhaps all that it could be. Kelly reaches forward with her hand, her palm open for Lena to take, if she chose. She never forgot this—never forgot Kelly’s patience for her, for the type of call and response that’s only theirs.

She closes the gap, Lena's hand clasping with hers.

“Can I see you again? I’d like for someone to show me around the city.”

“Why not ask Andrea?” she asks, testing.

Kelly studies her, those dark chocolate eyes always reading her, reading through her, knowing her. “Andrea is lovely, but I’d like to try and catch up on all that I’ve missed, if that’s possible.”

Lena regards her, but Kelly presses on.

“Is it?”

“What?”

“Possible.”

Lena has a choice here. Kelly has always given her a choice, and is waiting until Lena makes one.

Finally, she nods.

She releases Kelly’s hand but not before giving it a meaningful squeeze. As Kelly walks away with a final wave, Lena thinks of four three things:

There’s still a lamp bulb that needs fixing that she really needs to talk to Jess about come Monday morning.

Tomorrow, she thinks she’ll visit the shooting range again.

The sight of Kelly has slowly unraveled her in the last few days, yet her heart is peacefully beating in her heart, calm and steady.

She has no idea what to do with this information, but she thinks she doesn’t mind finding out.

#samfic #the superior guardiancorp #lena x kelly #just some tender angst #you know me #it's a love story #as always #supergirl #lena luthor #kelly olsen

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ohwell-itsme-but-danganronpa · 1 year ago

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Fake dating to piss off Shuichi's parents

Clown: Thinking about shuichi lamenting to his friends about his parents always needling him about a girlfriend/ getting a different job/ settling down. And he makes the vauge suggestion of considering taking anyone home just to shut them up And (maybe rantaro) goes "haha, I know someone who would make them lose their minds for like…30 dollars and free dinner" And it's Ouma It's always Ouma The first text he ever recieves from ouma is, "Soo…my dearly beloved to be, how bad do you want this to go?" "Absolutely horrid." "Splendid."

Checkers: He shows up in clown makeup pulls up to their driveway in his little clown car honks at then with his clown nose

Beez: oh you know what would be funny if shuichis parents had to take him w them to some kind of event or wtv n to make him not look like a loser they tell him he needs a date

Checkers: RUIN THEIR IMAGE jokes on them they’re the real losers here

Apollo: Kokichi makes little cue cards with all the problematic things he's learnt about Shuichi's parents and idly flashes them at random people to spread the news

Beez: HE DOES THE STUPID HIGH SCHOOL PRANK TAPING A PAPER ON THEIR BACKS "WE'RE SHIT PARENTS" Clown: He's causing scandals left and right

Dra: No but it would be so funny if he wasn't [wearing a clown nose] and still managed to get the sound by touching his nose/pl Clown: AJSGSH Its a skill!! Along with the several handkerchiefs he hacks up onto the floor

Apollo: Shuichi: WHY DIDN'T YOU WARN ME? Rantaro: Since when have my friends ever been normal? Clown: Rantaro is watching this from home. Sipping his tea as he watches the news roll in Dra: He complains but he actually loves it

Beez: they gotta pretend they like kokichi too they have an image to maintain they are so happy for their son and his ugly fucking boyfriend theyre serious Sini: They are so pro gay rights Clown: Their clenching their teeth so hard they bleed but "oohh they're sooo happy their son has found love" Apollo: Shuichi's embarrassed by the stories Kokichi is making up but seeing his parents in pain? It makes it the embarrassment worth it

Clown: I have the image of ouma stretching idly as he tell the reporter " Oh me? Psh! I'm actually an adult entertainer. Mhm! You won't believe how far the clown niche gets ya, mhm, real freaks out there. This? honk drives them bonkers. These kind folks are so understanding of my line of work!" He absolutely feeds a different story to every reporter

Apollo: Sure…People talk about what sort of…Things Shuichi are into considering his boyfriend says that sort of shit but hey…If it's pissing off his parents, he'll let Kokichi to claim to do whatever the fuck he wants He uses the fact he's multilingual to his advantage as well.

Sini: “These young celebrities are in love with me!” “One bad joke is all it takes, trust me” “These people have no humour! That’s humorous on its own, really! So charming” Clown: "Oh they've been sooo welcoming. They only tried to pay me off once?? Twice??"

Checkers: He’s reciting a waffle recipe in Spanish Reading out loud a Russian translation of My Immortal Clown: He's sobbing the entire time like its something emotional Apollo: He comes up with 'pet names' to use during interviews. The interviewers think it's super sweet…Until they see the comments pointing out that Kokichi was just saying random words Checkers: He is passionately defending pineapple on pizza. In Italian Clown: Omg, nicknames ranging from the classic "babe" to "my combusted inflamed refrigerator on wheels " And shuichi has to stutter his way through something equally as bad And yet the faces of pure rage on his parents face lend him strength he didn't know possible Apollo: Interviewer: Aww so sweet Interviewer, reading the comments: Why was he calling Shuichi a soda covered stress toy??? What is wrong with today's youth? [my reply to Apollo's message] that sounds kinky

Clown: I love the thought of this starting out as ouma leading the charge. He's throwing out ideas he hopes shuichi picks up. But as the night goes on the last remaining fucks shuichi gives fly out the window. And he is absolutely going all out. Ouma nearly stumbles in keeping up with the absolutely insanity shuichi has awakened in himself and he may be swooning Sini: HE’S CREATED A BEAUTIFUL MONSTER Apollo: Shuichi's gone from the awkward attempting to flirt back stage to the You're actually sorta cute so I'm going to put effort into this stage in like one night and Kokichi is shook Checkers: Saiharizz but it’s just unhinged insanity Beez: the most effective rizz on kokichi tbh Sini: Shuichi: evil unhinged laughter Kokichi: [heart eyes] “I will make my parents eat their own shit” “….So are you free later-?”

Clown: All it takes is realizing how afraid his parents are of breaking their facade and hes pulling ouma to the corner, absolute giddy realization happening in his anxiety ridden husk of a body as he frantically says "Did you see their faces?? Ouma did you see how mad they were?? Haha! Oh my god! They can't do anything to me. I can do anything" Apollo: Kokichi is internally screaming because holy fuck a cute guy just dragged him into a corner are they gonna kiss? No? Oh well, hearing him realise how he can do anything is just as good Me: this is a fake dating scenario, of course they're going to kiss, just not in a corner, that would be against the point, do it in front of everyone Sini: Kokichi: “I can fix him” Bitch, I did, and that was by making him worse Clown: He may be going mad with power Just a little Will shuichi regret this in the morning? He doesn't CARE. That's future him's problem. He's having FUN Rantaro is lowkey impressed by how fast Shuichi has managed to lose it Sini: Rantaro is dramatic [rolling eyes emoji] He’s fine. He’s his best self rn Ignore the maniacal giggling

Apollo: Shuichi manages to get his hands on some soda, something he's not allowed a lot so his 'teeth aren't ruined' or some bullshit…Man's on a trip Sini: He really is in his rebellious teen phase rn He will eat after midnight HA He will drink alcohol He will tag a building He will post embarrassing photos on a burner account

Apollo: Rantaro: What the hell Kokichi? Kokichi: It was one cup! Shuichi: [h y p e r]

Sini: “I feel so alive! Why haven’t I tried this before!? This is great! Fuck coffee, this is my life blood!” He’s been deprived Too much You give him a taste of something new and he goes wild

Clown: On one hand, shuichi has never looked happier, on the other, his eyes show a manic energy that is just a wee bit spooky Sini: Kokichi isn’t sure if he should be concerned or aroused Clown: Just one moment, a single moment for shuichi, grinning, tells ouma honestly "thank you for this" and its over for one kokichi ouma Sini: He is on the floor Shuichi is poking him

Me: sugar rush Shuichi just dips Kokichi and kisses him while showing a middle finger to the camera Clown: Shuichi offers a very nervous peck on the cheek initially and by the end he's dragging ouma halfway over the table to kiss him passionately on the lips in front of his parents

Clown: The aftermath may be less fun But it was so worth it Sini: It’s like a hangover lmao Wtf did he do last night? Clown: He wakes up feeling empty, shakey, strangely shirtless in a bed he doesn't recognize, theres a lingering feeling of impending dread and his phone is buzzing nonstop. Still. He feels so satisfied with himself. He smells like grape soda Sini: He smells like….Him Clown: YES. That and he's blanking on the memory of him toppling over the soda tower at the end of the night Apollo: He sees Kokichi and internally freaks out because What the fuck did we DO? but he then learns when he fell into the soda tower, his shirt got all gross and Kokichi being the everloving boyfriend he is, washed it…Well got someone else to wash it but yeah

Clown: Reality may be creeping up on him in the background but the phones been chucked to the side for now Ouma grins at him and goes "I never got the dinner you promised" and shuichi grins back Apollo: They're fucking dorks. Meanwhile, the Saiharas are attempting damage control, Shuichi's uncle is supportive but also god damn it did it have to go like this and the internet is fucking blowing up Clown: Need Miu to be watching her daily drama channel in the morning with a bowl of cereal and the first thing she sees is ouma's face and she does a spit take Apollo: She starts ringing him but he's not paying attention Clown: Kaito minding his buisness when he sees "Former child actor gone rouge" and it's just shuichi cackling maniacally Apollo: Kokichi is hovering in the background all smug like, dressed in the most horrible outfit despite the stylists trying to make him look nice. Clown: He loves to watch the world BURN From a distance, as shuichi and him take the time to tentatively start to know each other in the aftermath Sini: More so Shuichi causing the world to burn Me: Me: some paparazzi takes photos of them on that dinner they go out on and the relationship gets solidified in the media's eyes Clown: YES. If someone spreads a picture of them at some run of the mill diner in the morning for some breakfast. Hair unbrushed. Ouma still has remains of clown makeup. Shuichis eyeliner is smudged all over. Shuichi is shoving a cinnamon roll into oumas mouth mid rant with the biggest smile on his face.

Apollo: Maki, waking up because her Ouma Sense is going off: Who has that brat gone after this time? Maki knew Shuichi would be getting a fake date for some event. She switches on the tv, sees the bastard of the orphanage she grew up in and just turns it off Shuichi says he wants to introduce Kokichi to his best friends and he and Maki lock eyes. Kokichi: ["*chuckles* I'm in danger." gif]

Clown: She can't be too mad!! Look at shuichis face!! Thats pure joy right there!! Maki begrudgingly accepts and oumas like" sOB I knew you loved me!!! " Apollo: She does hit Kokichi over the back of the head later and then gives him a shovel talk. Shuichi is confused when Maki hands him one of those backpack leash things Clown: Maki, deadpan,"you'll need it." Me: she's a little confused about who needs a leash atm

Clown: I am thinking of the end of the night immeadiately after. Shuichi did not expect to go that far. And as he's calming down. The jitters come back. His phone is a death sentence. He's obsessively waiting for the ringing to start.

Ouma leads him to the bus stop, shuichi drove them there but its just not the time. Ouma wants to live thank you.

Drenched in sweat, and soda, and oumas pockets being stuffed with cake they ride together silently. Shuichi barely even thinks to ask where their going. Reloading his notifications again and again.

Shuichi is hugging his knees. He barely remembers sitting on oumas bed. He's still hugging his knees. "I-" he breaks out into nervous giggles, "I screwed up didn't I?"

And kokichi sighs, it's silent between them before kokichi erupts into laughter. "You were amazing!" He insists, and he's so absolutely giddy. Nearly in awe. It's hard for the doubts to eat at him when ouma looks at him like he hung the moon and the stars. "You were amazing."

And ouma teases him relentlessly, and shuichi is too busy being embarassed to let himself fall into regret. He ultimately falls asleep peacefully in a bed that isn't his and ouma yawns and steps away to sleep on the couch.

Bonus:

Beez: saiou pulling fake proposals in restaurants to get free dessert thats it Hina: Kokichi initiates them Shuichi tries for real and Kokichi thinks he's joking Beez: damn the dessert must look good if shuichis the one proposing for it Ves: they just move on shuuichi thinks they're engaged kokichi thinks he was doing a bit Me: 1) do it AFTER they're married 2) have their actual proposal in privacy, duh. I think they would prefer that anyway This is the sequel movie to the fake dating to piss off Saihara's parents romantic comedy Ves: but the comedy Me: Adam Sandlers plays Kokichi Ves: im imaging him in a terrible purple wig now why would you say that Well, it would be more of his type of deal to play Shuichi, since this makes Kokichi the love interest while he is the protag Beez: alternatively someone they know goes into the restaurant theyre at n witness a proposal so they go over to congratulate them but saiou r like shit [eye, mouth, eye emojis] Me: Ha! Deserved

#danganronpa #ndrv3 #kokichi ouma #shuichi saihara #oumasai #saiouma #kokichi oma #rantaro amami #miu iruma #kaito momota #maki harukawa #writing prompt #writing inspiration #when Clown starts cooking we all are just taking up space in the prompt kitchen #I barely did more than deliver the food in this metaphor. but my tag for those is #made by me #I mean. I am proud of what I added to it. but it's little. and I was late to the party per usual

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