#look at his hair. frizzy and frazzled.

[likesummerrainn]

[bloodmoonmuses]

come back to me | mark lee

summary: your boyfriend, mark, drunkenly recounts the day the two of you met. (mostly to prove to haechan and johnny that love does, in fact, exist. even in the most unlikely of places.)

genre: mark lee x reader, established relationship kinda... but, like, also a meet cute? young love and all that jazz lol

It’s cold outside, the beginnings of winter trickling in with bitter fervor, yet you’re warm. Or rather, being warmed by the illusion of heat that courses through your veins: liquid courage. Now on your second bottle of soju, your form feels pliant, watery even, as you sway in the wind of your friends’ joy. 

In a booth (the leather of which is crackling at the seams) that forms a sort of semi circle, sits you, Mark, Johnny and Haechan. The wooden table before you is littered in plastic shot “glasses” and fried chicken wings that have been picked clean, and the bar is quite lively despite it nearing one in the morning. You lie your head against Mark’s shoulder, lost in the feeling of his muscles tensing and relaxing repeatedly beneath it.

“You good?” Mark whispers to you, shimming slightly as if to jostle a response out of you.

The words that escape your mouth feel fuzzy on your tongue, staticky around the edges. “Never been better.”

For some reason, the night has taken a nostalgic turn, fueled by the alcohol in everyone’s system. Haechan and Johnny have been arguing about their love lives for the better part of an hour. It never fails to amuse you how much they like bickering simply for the sake of it. You tuned out about ten minutes ago when Haechan brought up Johnny’s commitment issues only to be met with a rebuttal about him using humor as a coping mechanism. Both comments clearly strike a nerve in the men respectively, deciding to psychoanalyze their exes in chronological order in an attempt to disprove the validity of one another's assertions. 

“I don’t like that we can’t make fun of Mark right now,” Johnny confesses when he’s finished talking about an ex who turned out to be a closeted sasaeng, turning his attention to you and Mark.

Haechan scrunches his nose, gazing upon you as well. “Look at you two… All cozied up- it’s disgusting.”

“Hey man,” Mark starts, “don’t blame me for the lack of love in your life.” You punctuate his declaration with a kiss on the cheek, giddy and lovey-dovey in your drunken state. “See?” 

Johnny pretends to gag.

“How’d you meet anyway?” Haechan asks, “-so I can avoid any scenario involving… that.”

“Mark hasn’t told you the story in, like, excruciating detail?” you scoff. “He’s told everyone.”

Haechan shakes his head. 

“Oh God, don’t get him started,” Johnny groans. Mark sits upright, effectively knocking your head off of his shoulder, ecstatic with the chance to relay the way you met each other in its sappy glory.

“Spring,” Mark starts. “I was seventeen, so I had just debuted a year before, and-”

The cherry blossoms. They were stunning, you remember. Glistening and quivering under the weight of all the raindrops that had accumulated on them. The sheen of puddles scattered on the roads and sidewalks... You took the bus to work, a little cafe job you worked while finishing up your requirements at the international school you attended, and during that time of year, those bus rides were some of the most peaceful times in your day to day life. 

You think back to your youth, bright eyes aged only seventeen years, and how the world then seemed filled to brim with possibility. One day in particular, a chilly one towards the end of spring, you remember watching Mark enter the bus, his boyishness evident in his untied shoelaces and clunkily carried guitar case. On his back was a spiderman backpack, you remember vividly, and his hair is frizzy from how light he’s bleached it. He comes off a bit frazzled as you watch him stumble into a seat, precariously balancing a flimsy pair of headphones on his head, and settle in it with his knees bent. 

Once he’s gathered his bearings, he takes off his backpack and retrieves a notebook and pen, placing it on his knees, and begins to write frantically- like if he doesn't put pen to paper in this exact nanosecond, the idea will leave and never return. In a world of sloth and languidness, you’re fascinated by his urgency. You take off your own headphones to hear how he sounds in the context of silence, it is seven in the morning after all, and it only draws you in further. The scratching of the pen against the paper, orchestrated by the humming that just barely escapes his lips lulling you into a state of hypnosis.

Periodically, he furrows his brows, tries out a different melody, then writes some more- over and over again, until the pattern becomes more fluid. More succinct. Like the beginnings of a fully fledged song. He’s smiling now, and you find yourself unknowingly mirroring his joy, the fuzziness of it spreading up your neck like a campfire consuming its kindling. You’re enraptured. 

You want to live inside his head. What a superpower to have; to breathe life into written language. And then suddenly, he’s stuffing his notebook into his backpack as quickly as he had taken it out. His stop must be coming up soon, you had thought to yourself. 

After putting his feet back on the ground, he gingerly places his palms against the bus window- as if to test its temperature. When deemed cool enough, he exhales against the glass, quickly etching a heart onto its foggy surface with a squeak. His fingers are calloused, that much you can tell even from across the bus, and he’s tired- if the bags under his eyes are any indication. Then, the bus crawls to a stop, and he stands. Again, you’re mirroring him instantly, body moving before your mind can catch up. It’s not your stop, yours is another three down, but you exit nonetheless, too enthralled by the boy in front of you to let him out of your sight.

You walk about a block, maintaining about a ten foot distance between the two of you, and watch him hobble down the sidewalk with his huge guitar case. He grunts occasionally, adjusting and readjusting his baggage when the weight becomes too much, humming all the while. Until, of course, he turns around, tearing the headphones off of his head, and asks, “Are you following me?!” in a frustrated huff. 

You stop in your tracks. Oh wait, you had thought, you are sorta following him. Well, the cafe is in this direction technically but-

“You’re not one of those people with a fansite, are you? Look, dude, I know we debuted last year, but I want a normal life just like-”

“I’m not a fan. I mean, not yet, I guess. Well- no. I was just… I’m not following you. Mostly.” you stammer. 

Mark scratches his head. “Then, what are you doing…?”

“You were writing a song on the bus,” you look at the ground, staring at your shoes in search of some solace, reprieve from the then stranger’s prying eyes. How did you think this would turn out any other way? “I thought maybe, you could… sing it. Like, out loud.”

Mark sighs. “Look, dude, I have practice and-”

“Right. I’m sorry for being weird, you just looked… Nevermind. Have a nice day- sorry to bother you.” You turn on your heels, in the complete opposite of the cafe you’re supposed to be going to, and make a break for it. As you trek up the hill, you shatter your reflection over and over again, the splashing of puddles beneath your feet the only sound tethering you to reality. 

“It’s not finished-” Mark starts, voice cutting through the rustling leaves and bustling city with piercing clarity.  You’re frozen, still facing away from the hypnotist behind you. “-but I could show you the idea. Because that’s what it is right now. Just an idea.”

You turn to face him. “Um. Sure. If that’s okay.”

Haechan interjects Mark’s storytelling, words warbling from his completion of a third bottle of soju for the night. “No way you actually sat down and played the song for-”

“Shh!” Johnny says, “This is the best part.”

“See, I knew you secretly loved this mushy-gushy stuff,” you say. 

Mark giggles. “So, like I was saying-”

You sit on a bench freckled cherry blossom petals and just-dried droplets of dew, knee bouncing nervously when Mark plops down beside you. Mark sets his guitar case down, flat in front of him, and opens it. Retrieving his notebook from his backpack once again, he places it on your lap, surprisingly enough. Wordlessly, he puts his guitar in his lap, throwing the strap over his neck and shoulders, and cranes his neck to re-familiarize himself with his feverishly scrawled ideas. Just before he strums the first note, he says, “Just an idea. Keep that in mind.”

Then he sings. A mix and hesitant laments of love lost, then found, yearning for the past, but hopeful for the future. But other words are not words at all. They’re more, like, messily sung runs. Like he’s sketching lightly, so he can erase later. He’s got a hook. He sings it three times, and the way his Adam's apple bobbles is now permanently etched in your mind. When he’s done, he opens his eyes slowly, assessing the damage done. He almost looks surprised that you’re still sitting there.

You whisper, voice whisked away in the gentle breeze, “I never asked your name.”

“Mark. Just Mark.”

“Nice to meet you, ‘Just Mark’.”

“What do you think? How do you feel?” Two entirely different questions, both of which hit your ear in a way that makes your stomach leap- or maybe it’s the gravelly timbre of his voice and unsure eyes.

“Good,” Mark’s eyes spur you on further, silently asking you to elaborate, “The song sounds good and I feel good.”

“Is that the only adjective you know? ‘Good’?”

“I know a lot of adjectives. I’m just… nervous. So, yeah.”

Mark grabs his notebook and returns it to his backpack, packing up his guitar as well. As he stands to leave, he turns and says, “Your name.”

“What?”

“You never told me your name.”

“_______,” you reply meekly.

“And your hand,” he urges, “give it to me.” You extend your arm and Mark delicately grasps your wrist. Then, Mark nervously scrawls his number on your palm, pen digging into your skin slightly. 

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. 

“If you have any thoughts beyond it being ‘good’, gimme a call.” And just like that, he’s gone, running down the hill to make it to practice on time.

As Mark ends his retelling of events with a wistful hum, Haechan chortles. “Yeah. You two disgust me.”

[robynlilyblack]

Perfect

Sirius Black x fem! insecure! reader

Summary: Sirius comforts his girlfriend when she’s feeling insecure

Warnings/tags: swearing, mentions of weight gain, body dysphoria, insecurities, eating, nudity and sex, established relationship, best friends to lovers, Sirius black is the best boyfriend, muggleborn! reader

A/n: 3.8k words, thank you so much for the request, it didn’t trigger me don't worry lovely, i poured a lot of myself into this one, this won’t be everyone's experience but it has been mine post 'recovery', enjoy xxxx

Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist 

The soft jostling of the front door pulls you from your thoughts, the reality of the last couple of hours falling upon you as you look around yourself. There was no point in moving now, nor did you honestly think you would be able to bring yourself to. Sitting in nothing but your underwear at the edge of the bed, surrounded by piles of clothing that lay scattered like fallen soldiers after your battle for the ‘perfect’ outfit. A ridiculous notion wasn’t it? ‘The perfect outfit’? The consequence and impact of such a notion remains less ridiculous though, as you hold the latest victim to your stomach, hiding yourself away for when that door finally opens

After a short eternity, the latch clicks, and the hallway illuminates the land outside your bedroom for a brief moment before it recedes “Hi darling! Just me!” Sirius’ calls out from the darkness, slight jingle following it as he locks the door behind him

He sounds so happy, you think at his chipper tone, your lips quirking up at the sound despite it all before they fall once more, he’s going to be so disappointed 

There's anticipation in the silence that follows his footsteps, he must wonder where you are, if you’re even in or have popped to the shops, maybe he’s searching the fridge for a note. The electric hum of your record player gives it away in the end, even you jump a little as you had forgotten about it, watching it turn before the needle softly falls, the hum becoming a symphony once more

His footsteps approach the bedroom, a curious look at his head pops into frame before the rest of him, most likely expecting you to be dancing, or maybe finishing your hair, anything he can sneakily admire like he normally does. Instead you watch his expression soften into concern, eyes darting around the room. Your bedroom was normally a little messy, but today it was like someone had ransacked your wardrobe… that someone being you. 

When his eyes find you again you wonder what you look like. He must catch the tear stains on your cheeks and puffy eyes, but is your hair as frizzy and frazzled as you feel after all the quick changes? Does he see you the way you see yourself should you dare to glance in a nearby mirror?

“Hi” you impress yourself with how steady your voice is

“Hi” he smile softly at you, voice gentle as he makes his way over to the bed, kneeling down in front of you, hand coming up to brush against your cheek before falling and resting on your knee, tracing soothing circles 

You manage a weak smile back, trying to push away the embarrassment as he has to shift a little to the side due to the buttons of one of your shirts “I’m sorry about the mess” you apologise, keeping one hand on your jumper while the other finds his, fingers intertwining 

He lets out a breathy laugh “Mess? Darlin we both know this is cleaner that my flat has very been” he teases lightly, but then his eyes turn glassy “Oh darling” he coos, wiping away a stray tear you had missed

You never wanted him to see you like this. You’d known each other for years, but he never knew the depth of your struggle, nor how much worse it had gotten now you and he had finally taken your relationship to the next level. No, this was something you had kept to yourself, a battle until now you thought you had under control, thought you were long past

“I’m not doing so great today Siri” you confess, voice small as you lean into his touch

You hold your breath a little as his eyes fall upon the clutched fabric around your stomach. Little did you know he’d noticed this behaviour before when you thought he was asleep. He recalls last week when he woke to find you in front of his mirror, shirt hiked up as you poked and prodded, scrutinising the reflection. He didn’t say anything then, just made sure to show you later how much he adored every inch of you

But now seeing you like this, so defeated, he wishes he had done more

“Yeah?” his tone inflects and you give him a little nod “There’s nothing I can say that's going to make this better is there? Not really?” he wonders, not mad, nor judging you, he’s just him and he understood even if it did hurt 

When he and Remus had dated back at Hogwarts, Sirius had gone about trying to help him in all the wrong ways. Being the hot head he was, sprinkled with youthful arrogance, he used to get so upset at how his boyfriend had spoken of himself. Over the years, and after the relationship has blossomed back into friendship, he and Remus had more productive chats about it all, apologies were said, and Sirius learned more about the thought process that went through his friends head in those moments.

You were different from Remus of course, Sirius didn’t know what drove your insecurities but he knew he would be patient with them, help you in anyway he could, and that started by listening to you

“No” you answer honestly “I wish there was though. A magic word or sentence that could make it all disappear” you confess “But everytime I look in the mirror all I can see is what’s wrong”

“And what is wrong?” he encourages you to continue as he lifts himself up, being careful of your clothes as he joins you on the bed

Your legs fall from their crossed position, head falling onto his shoulder as your knee shifts to touch his “Everything” you admit, tightening your grip on the jumper, while Sirius' arm slips around your back, fingers gliding across your bare skin “No matter what I try on, it never feels…right. Even outfits I was excited about. I take one too many glances in the mirror and poof…” you shrug, throwing your hands up “...suddenly all I can see is my stomach” you look up at him through your eyelashes, nervous of what he’ll think, but instead he wears that fond smile he always did when he looks at you

“Keep going” he nods, leaning down to kiss your forehead 

Your heart swells at the gesture, a tiny downturned smile grazing your features as tears prick your eyes “Why are you being so sweet with me?” you ask, even though you already know the answer, that little girl inside still needs to hear it aloud

His movements never stop on your back and his other hand finds the side of your face, gently caressing your hairline, endlessly tucking that little piece of hair behind your ear “Because I care about you. You’re my best friend” he answers simply “There’s no one else that comes close anymore”

“Not even Prongs?” you ask, eyes lighting up with a tiny smile that always sends his heart into a tizzy

“Not even Prongs” he confirms with a chuckle, tapping your nose, adoring the little scrunch it makes “So” he shifts the subject back “What happened today?”

“Remember last week when we couldn’t sleep, so we watched movies all night?” you prop yourself up

Sirius’ smile widens at the memory “Course, we watched the one that was like us but way less cool and then…ugh i can’t remember but I do remember what we did when the movies got boring” he flirts, wiggling his eyebrows, making you giggle and playful poke his side causing him to yip “You little…”

“Siri!” your giggles turn into laughter as he starts tickling you, hopping onto his knees as you fall back onto the plush of the duvet, squirming under his sweet torture “I yield! I yield!” you squeal, holding your hands up 

He relents “Sorry darlin', I couldn’t resist” he tells you, kicking off his shoes before falling onto the bed beside you, propping himself up on his elbow while his other hand finds your hip, eyes lost in admiration for a moment before they find yours “What were we talking about again…” he looks off to the side, avoiding your hips as not to lose his train of thought once more “...ugh…tickles…getting bored…movies!” he celebrates "The movie" he gets serious again, lips pressing together in a way that tells you he wishes he could say sorry, even though you both know he doesn't need to

You place a sweet kiss to his lips, letting him know it’s okay before shifting onto your side, mirroring him “I couldn’t stop thinking about how cool the outfit the girl wore in the first movie was, so I wanted to try and recreate it for drinks tonight” you explain, eyes widening as you realise the time “Drinks…oh, we’re going to be so late” you sigh, head collapsing into the mattress beside him 

Sirius rubs your back “Darling when are we not late” he chuckles, making you peak out at him 

“I’m still sorry” you needlessly apologise, feeling awful 

“We don’t have to go, you know?” he assures you, his hand sliding up to your head, giving your scalp gentle scratches 

You tilt your head back, humming into his touch “I do want to go” your eyes flick back to his “I just…don’t stop!” you pout at him in mock anger, he really should have known better

He chuckles “Sorry darling” he apologises, placing a quick peck to your forehead before resuming his movements

“Good boy” you can’t help the grin, watching as he shakes his head slightly, now it’s you who should know better about what those words do to him...but then your smile drops “I just wish I could magic myself there without having to choose, like I need to look a certain way” 

“What kind of way?” 

“Honestly?” you shrug, shaking your head “I don’t know anymore. All I know is whatever I try on it never looks or feels right. Like back at Hogwarts, I didn’t tuck in my jumpers because it looked cute. I tucked them in because I thought I looked frumpy with them out” you confess, pit swelling in your stomach

You hated yourself for your thought process, for the years of walking into rooms,and having your night made or ruined based on how your body measured up against others

“That sounds really hard” he says softly while his fingers graze your hairline

Your body relaxes at the validation 

“Why haven’t you ever talked to me about this?” he asks, no pressure behind his words only care

“I didn’t really tell anyone, mostly because I never realised everything I felt and did wasn’t normal until a couple years after we left. I worked hard on it and I thought my days of this…” you gesture to the mess “...was over” you let out a sad sigh

“What happened?” 

Sirius’ heart drops a little bit, this was the part he most worried about, had he brought this back? Had he said something that accidentally had a double meaning for you? 

“A couple weeks ago I found the pair of jeans I wore on our first real date.” your eyes drop to the duvet, hands playing with the slight frill in the material as you recall the memory “They don’t fit anymore Siri” you scrunch your nose attempting to suppress the tears “Nothing fits I’ve…I’m…I don’t like it” you finally get out 

“Oh honey, come ‘ere’” he hithers, holding out his arms

It doesn’t take long for you to fall into his embrace, head nuzzling into his chest as his arms come protectively around you

“I know it’s silly-” you sniffle into him, but he cuts you off sweetly with a soft tut

“It’s not darling and you’re not either” he cups the back of your head, bringing you gaze to his to hone in his latter statement “I don’t think it’s silly at all, I think this is really hard and I wish you didn’t have to go through it all alone” he smiles sadly, pain evident in his eyes 

“Did you notice?” you feel like you already know the answer

He caresses your cheek, eyes a little glassy “Little bit bub” he confesses “I noticed something' was off, but I didn’t want to push it until you were ready”

“Really?” he nods

“Darlin…” his demeanour turns from playful to sincere “...no matter what size or shape you come in, I’m always going to love you. I didn't fall for you because you looked a certain way. I fell for you because you made me feel like I was worth a damn, not just for a night but everyday. You believed in me every time I couldn’t, you put up with me forgetting everything every two seconds, not to mention my grumpy side when I have to wake up early…” you both chuckle together “...and above all you make me feel like the most special person in the entire world every day”

“Because you are special” you say simply to which he taps your nose with his own

“And so are you. So until you believe the version of yourself I see, I will, and I'll help anyway I can…starting…” he grins, uncoupling himself from you and getting off the bed ”...right now!” he gestures for you to join him “Come on love lets see ya” you do as he says, a nervous yet happy smile across your face as you stand near bare before him, no jumper protecting you now “Well whatever you wear has to match the underwear…good godric woman”

His hands find his hips, shaking his head as his eyes track across your frame, drinking you in like man that's been lost in the desert

“Flirt” you smile up at him

“Only for you” he throws you a wink, relishing in your slight fluster before turning to the rest of the room “Okay…let's try something simple” he suggests, scanning the pile of discarded clothes "How about the outfit you wore that day we went to the...aww what's it called, it's one the funny muggle picture places but with the cars"

"The drive-in cinema?" you decipher with a laugh, it was easy to forget Sirius wasn't brought up the same way you were

"That's it!" he cheeses at you "Yeah the sin-e-ma...you wore an outfit kinda similar to her in the movie but way more you"

As Sirius starts raking through one of the piles, you take a moment, glancing in the mirror closest to you, you could only really see your head and tips of your shoulders in this one thankfully, but in your gaze you realise you were right to be worried about the fizz, the many different shirts and jumpers had wreaked their havoc. You move closer, unaware of Sirius finding the clothes you wore that day, nor his adorable struggle to turn one of the legs back from being inside out. 

He soon joins you at the mirror, placing the clothing on the dresser beside you “You know love…I might be a little bias but I think it looks great, it’s messy in a good way…” he smirks earning an eye roll from yourself as you know exactly what kind of messy he's referring to “...though if you're worried about it being too sexy lets..." he grabs a clip and hair tie from your pile, moving behind you and gently gathers the top half of your hair, letting some parts fall to frame face before he secures it with the tie and hides it with the clip "...pin half of it up, that way I can see your pretty face much easier” he kisses your cheek before spinning you around you around, admiring his work as he fixes the front pieces “Perfection” he says to himself with pride

“Siri?” 

“Yeah? Oh…is it too tight?” his movements stop, resting gently at the base of your jaw

“No, it’s perfect” you smile, glowing under his care “It’s just you probably should have done that after I put my clothes on” 

Sirius laughs as he realises, then shrugs “Ahh well if it falls out I’ll do it again, here I’ll help ya” he moves around you, holding the collar of the top and helping guide it down, avoiding the clip to protect his masterful work

“Hey that worked” you extend the first word, hand going up to check your hair was still in place

“Hey now, my plans always work! Maybe not always as intended but they al…wait no there was that time with Filch's cat…but that was an accident so it doesn’t count” he argues to himself

“Tell that to the cat! Poor girl was bald for months!” you try to counter but end up having to cover your mouth a little as you can't help the giggles 

“Her fur grew back” he hands you some bottoms “Besides, you were the one that mixed the potion darling so if we are casting blame here…” he trails off as does his eyes but you don’t notice that part just yet

“Siri, you…he’s gone isn't he” you say to yourself, shifting your weight from side to side as he admires you shamelessly “Siri” you gently hit him with the fabric in you hands

“Sorry darlin” he scratches the back of his head “Thighs” he shrugs like it was the most forgivable answer in the world

“You’re silly” you giggle before turning around, deciding to hiking up your jumper a little and give him a little show as you slide into your bottoms 

“I love you” he says simply, leaning against the wardrobe beside him as he admires your extra wiggles that are only for his benefit and his heart swells a little with pride as he’s helped you to momentarily forget your worries

When you turn around you find him wearing your favourite smile. The one reserved only for you, both now as two silly adults, and back when you were silly teenagers. You both should have realised far sooner your affections and feelings were more than what they were, but in the end both of you were always happy with the way your story planned out. You both needed that time to become the people you were now, to grow, to become this. 

“I love you more” you challenge sweetly

“Not possible…” he moves closer, finding your hips as he slides his fingers up and under your jumper “...and if you say one more word we really will be late as we won’t be going at all” his fingers find the loops of your trousers, tucking you flush against him

You squeal a little “Fine…you win for now cause we don’t have time…well” you nod your head back and forth considering it before turning back to Sirius “…no no we don’t have time” you shake your thoughts away, causing the man before you to chuckle

Sirius helps you finish off your outfit, picking out some boots that just so happened to be one's your boyfriend was partial to, ones with some lift that he says makes you easier to kiss and your arse look even better, but really he loves them because when you take them off later tonight he gets to pat your head and tease you about being a little shorty. You grab a belt that matches your shoes, along with some other bits of jewellery, particularly the necklace Sirius had gifted you for your birthday after seeing your reaction to it in a vintage store a few months prior. The same gift that led to your first kiss all those months ago, there wasn’t a day you hadn’t worn it since.

Just as you’re admiring the locket Sirius wraps the exact jacket you were thinking of around your shoulders, but before you can say anything he just winks “Can’t reveal all my secrets darling, need to keep up that sexy mystery you fell in love with”

You just give him a small look though the mounted mirror but all he returns with is a pity pout and you concede “You are very sexy and mysterious love” 

He smirks then, all proud of himself that his puppy eyes still work, but as you move to the floor length mirror near the door of your room to check the rest of yourself he stop you

“Nope” he steps in front, obscuring your view of the mirror

“Why?” you tilt your head, confused

“Do you trust me?” he asks

“Always” 

He takes a moment to smile at the ease of your answer before guiding you out of the bedroom “Then come on we’re gonna try something, a little experiment if you will”

You allow him to lead you towards the front door, watching him quietly as he gathers your things, placing them into the bag you had chosen before slipping it onto your frame and fixing the collar of your jacket 

“How do you feel right now in this moment?” he wonders, reaching out to intertwine your hands

“I feel…good” you answer honestly, you felt nice, you had only seen your hair and makeup, things that you could control and for the first time in a while you felt at peace leaving your apartment “I also feel pretty when you look at me like that” you add shyly under his gaze as you watch his eyes slowly drink in your appearance

“Good” he nods “Because you are, ya know, you are so beautiful” he says the words slowly, making sure you know he means them completely before he leans down, placing a soft lingering kiss to your lips “Now, lets go and watch our friends fail miserable at karaoke” he breaks away, smiling at your attempt to chase his lips before he turns away

“Sirius” you come to a slow stop

“Yeah?” he turns back, the softest most natural smile adoring his face

“Thank you, for everything” 

His eyelashes kiss his cheeks. He doesn’t reply, instead he thanks you with a kiss to your cheek…and then one to the other…then your nose...and lips...and well safe to say you were a little late in the end after all

Thank you for reading ♡

[hellfireloserclub]

Oscar the grouch

Written for June's @steddiemicrofic

Prompt:stuff.Word count 483.Rating G

“Look at this stuff. Isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?” Eddie sang as he danced around the living room, Oscar crying his eyes out in his arms.

Steve wasn't sure what it was he had walked into, or why his son was currently wailing at the top of his voice. But he was truly living up to his nickname of grouch.

Eddie looked frazzled and three seconds away from joining the frizzy haired tot in his breakdown. It was easy to forget that this was Eddie’s first time doing this whole parenting thing, he got on so well with Layla it was easy to forget that it was his first rodeo. Mostly Steve's husband ( it still sounded weird to say that) was taking it in his stride, one dirty diaper at a time.

But Oscar was every bit Eddie’s son, and the last few weeks of teething had shown that the kid had well and truly found his lungs.

Steve was still unnoticed as he watched from the doorway, take out bag still in hand.

Picking up the stuffed octopus from the sofa where it lay, Eddie waved it around pointing out all the accumulated nik naks lining the shelves of their busy and cluttered living space .

“Look at this trove. Treasures untold. How many wonders can one cavern hold?” Eddie sang, nearly knocking the Grammy off the mantle in his enthusiasm.

Not that it would matter if it broke. the other Grammy, one they shared, was currently being used as a doorstop in the recording studio, since Rincewind the cat had decided to start locking himself in there when they weren't looking. Stupid feline had almost written off Steve's stratocaster, and it had killed at least two of the fancy laptops.

Eddie was finally winning in his war with his mini self. Oscar had simmered to gulping air, bottom lip wobbling but no tears now fell down his freckled face. One chubby fist had twisted itself in Eddie's curls and the other was reaching for the shiny metal in his dad’s bottom lip.

Oscar really liked shiny things.

Eddie's wedding ring had been dropped down the toilet only the other week, it took Steve and Wayne ages to get it back out the pipe.

It now sat on a chain around Eddie's neck, safe from little fingers wanting to recreate Gollum's fate.

Sensing that he was on to a winner, Eddie got louder with his singing.

“I want to be where the people are-”

“That's a lie, you hate people.” Steve said as he made his presence known.

Both man and child's heads turned in unison. A smile cracking both faces.

“I like you.” Eddie said, walking over Oscar grabbing onto Steve as soon as he got near.

Eddie pressed a kiss into Steve's temple as he passed off their son.

“I'm not people, I'm your husband.”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 77

Part 1 Part 76

He’s growing – Steve can feel it eating away at the pathways in his brain. He can almost feel the way the connections drop, making way from something else, something more. It’s like he wants Steve to be able to see the paths he’s carving out of his brain so he can.

They’re dark, and winding, and there’s nothing in there at all. Steve’s being hollowed out, for a holy purpose he can’t quite grasp, but he can feel it, coiled cold and hard in the back of his skull, waiting to give him his own divine prophecy. When the time’s right. 

But the time’s not right, and he’s lost in the tunnels of his mind, winding fast, fast, fast through corridors he doesn’t recognize. 

It’s like, double vision. He’s looking at Eddie sitting beside him, twirling his frizzy hair in front of his mouth, but it’s dark, too, and the tunnels are winding. Winding, and empty until they’re not.

It’s not until he sees the man that Steve wonders if he’s looking at something internal at all. Because there’s a man he doesn’t recognize walking inside them. He watches him stumble, he watches him fall. 

Steve doesn’t recognize the man. But, still. Something twists inside as he watches him collapse, He’s supposed to collapse. Steve knows, he can feel it.

But there’s still something pulling in his sternum. He can feel it, sometimes, when Eddie’s looking at him with big, sad eyes. He wants to wring the sadness straight out of him but can’t – he doesn’t know what’s wrong. 

“Something’s wrong.” he says, but he’s not sure if he means the man or the look in Eddie’s eyes, or the way he’s not sure where he is right now.

“What is it, honey?” 

The woman who says it looks frazzled from where she’s kneeling in front of him. He doesn’t know her, but she’s holding Will’s hand. He looks at Will, and his eyes match hers – both wide and worried and trained on him.

“There’s a man,” he says. There are vines circling the man’s wrists, legs, trailing up his neck. Steve rubs his own throat, esophagus convulsing in sympathy pain. And just for a second, there’s a flicker of that same man smiling down at him, settling something over his face, letting him breathe. 

“Where?” the woman asks, at the same moment Eddie asks, “who?” and reaches out his burning palm to clutch Steve’s knee. 

He turns back to Eddie. Eddie who’s touch burns straight through him, who he can feel pulling pulling pulling him in like he wants to incinerate him whole. Steve would let him. 

So, he ignores the woman’s question and focuses on the man. “I don’t know him,” Steve whispers. He’s not sure it’s true, he can still feel the way his warm hand had cradled Steve’s jaw as he breathed life back into him.

Eddie’s boring his gaze into him, like maybe he can scoop out the images and muddle through them on his own. “But he’s in trouble?” 

Steve nods.

The woman stands up with a grunt, hands braced on knees as hauls herself up. “I’ll try Hop again.”

The name twinges. “Hop, Hop, Hopper,” Steve murmurs, looking back down at Eddie’s hand on his knee like it’ll tell him what he’s thinking. Like it’ll make his brain work better.

“What about him?” Will asks quietly. He’s watching the woman pick up the phone, turning the numbers by rote. 

Steve doesn’t know Hopper, but there’s a man with a dirty name plate attached to his dirty chest that reads the same name. “The vines,” he starts, before stalling out, unsure of what to say. “They’ve– they’ve got him.”

Eddie sits up, squeezing Steve’s knee tight, the bite of his fingernails into burnt flesh aching. “Hopper’s who’s in trouble?”

He nods, and sits, watching Hopper struggle, watching Will and Eddie trade looks around him, watching the woman hang up the phone with a sigh.

“Where?” Eddie asks.

Steve doesn’t know. He doesn’t know, but it’s Eddie who’s asking, so he closes his eyes. He closes his eyes and focuses. “There’s dirt,” he says, “and vines, and—” 

There’s nothing else. No discernable features of the landscape he both can and cannot see, but he’s squinting into his own mind hard enough that the back of his skull starts aching like it’s splitting open and that’s when he feels it: a pull.

It’s coming from the back of his head, like a migraine, aching at the join between his neck and skull. He lets his head sway with it, then points with the sway.

He closes his eyes, focuses on the man, and lets the pull take him. 

It’s like walking through purgatory – following the lines in his mind. He’s going the right way, can feel it just as surely as he can feel Eddie’s burning hand on his elbow and Will’s burning fingers on his ankles.  

He doesn’t open his eyes, just walks, and walks, until there’s nowhere to walk anymore.

It’s not until he stops that the implications of the pull yanking him down sink in. He wants to drop to his knees and scrabble at the ground with his nails. But he’s down too deep, and time’s running out. 

He opens his eyes and looks down. There’s a rotten pumpkin under his shoe, foot turning it to mush. Beneath that, there’s dirt. Dirt and vines. Steve points down to it, and looks up to meet Eddie’s worried eyes.

“He’s running out of time,” Steve says, watching both Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and the way the man’s fingers are still flexing on the vine around his throat, keeping it at bay. 

“He’s down there?” the woman asks, unhelpful in her hysteria. 

Steve watches the reality unfurl in Eddie’s eyes and then looks down at the dirt beneath his feet and watches the man struggle.

People flit around him like ants. He doesn’t pay it any mind. Will and Eddie are here, and everything else is just killing time.

Part 78

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren

[hastyprovocateur]

Well-Suited To Your Taste- Sevika×Seamstress

1.6k words

Tl/dr: Sevika gets begrudgingly fitted for a suit upon Silco's instruction, taking a shine to the seamstress

Tw: bondage, fingering, spanking

Sevika rasped cigar smoke from her lips, the streets barely thrumming. She stood waiting for it to die before she entered the swish boutique. It was late evening and a little past closing. The neon board above the awning glowed; in fancy letters it read: "The Vestiarium~ For the Well-Heeled"

Sevika stared at the glass display, mannequins sporting sharp, expertly stitched outfits. Some of the best you could acquire in Zaun. Or so Silco attested about his choice of dressmakers. He instructed, rather requested, her to consult them for a new outfit for an upcoming caucus.

Silco's deputy wasn't one to indulge appearances or care for expensive attire. If anything, her simple clothes helped divert attention away from herself. An edge in a fist fight or ambush. But the gathering was more for formal talk. An arena her strongest suits lay far outside of.

She flicked the butt of the cigarette in the ground, swinging into the shop as a bell tinkled above. Immediately, she felt out of place. There was a time, she could only peer inside into places like these, shooed away eventually with sticks, her grimy fingerprints being promptly wiped.

But not tonight

"Ah, hi! We're closed- OW" Sevika heard a crashing sound from somewhere inside the dimly lit shopfront. She stood her ground, rolling her neck and waiting for the store owner. Instead, out popped a woman. Small, bespectacled and frazzled as she massaged the knee she banged on her way out.

"I'm sorry, ma'am... we're-" her words cut off her eyes travelled up Sevika's tall, burly frame, gulping "Oh... Lieutenant..." she adjusted her glasses "How can I be of assistance?" she asked timidly. Sevika gave her a once over.

Her wavy hair were loosely knotted at the base of her neck, frizzy strands framing her face. Her simple shirt and skirt were trimmed by green ribbon, feet strapped in cuffed, rounded flats. She couldn't be beyond a mere tailor or sales clerk.

"I'm looking for the owner"

"He-he left the store to me. Said his wife has the chills so he's taking care of her. I was in the back clearing up after closing time. But it's no biggie! I just live upstairs, actually... pretty sweet gig if you ask me. You need not fret, I'm his assistant so I'm sure I can get you sorted-"

"I'll come by later"

Sevika turned to leave but felt an audacious grip on her elbow, yanking her back swiftly. Eyes bewildered, she stared down at the seamstress in shock. The lady seemed to belatedly catch onto what she's done. She released her immediately, scooting back with her hands melded.

"I'm so terribly sorry... its just... I can't let such a... high-value customer like you just leave..." she tucked some loose hair behind her ear "I'm new and I really want to do right by this job... if you tell me what you need... I will do my best to deliver" she proferred.

Sevika eyed her warily, sighing "I need a suit... someone said this is the place for it"

"Yes, of course... the Vestiarium. The one stop shop for the well-heeled" she smiled, cocking her head "A suit you say... do you have a colour and design in mind? An outline or... maybe you've taken a shine to one of our client's garb?" she asked.

Sevika shrugged "I don't know... I've never taken note of such things before"

"That's perfectly fine... I'll work it out for you. Let me take a look..." she moved with sprightly grace, touching her shoulder and tracing her fingers down to her elbow, taking in her muscular waist and the dip of her spine. She lifted Sevika's cybernetic arm slightly, glancing past her shoulders.

"Broad shoulders... beautiful neck... strong arms... long legs... fitted... lots of curves... would you prefer a dramatic, voguish look or simple and old school?" she asked and Sevika raised a brow "Your pick, love. As long as it's not a lot, it matters zilch to me"

"Oh, dear... what an exciting journey for me" the dressmaker blushed, readjusting her glasses and muttering "Short-sleeved shirt... cotton-linen... stitched into a... waistcoat... low... three buttons across... a cape blazer... high waisted pants with a boot cut... pockets, pockets, pockets"

She stood on her tippy toes, fingers barely grazing over Sevika's choker "a tie... with a clip on jewel?" she whispered "Unless you don't like being tied down..." Sevika gazed down at the seamstress' face "Long as its not too tight" she smiled jauntily.

The woman jerked back, late to realize what she was doing once again. "Ah... let me fetch the fabrics I have in mind. I'll be right back" she rushed off to one of the backrooms, fetching some rolls of cloth. She propped them against a chair and wheeled in a mirror "So... I envisioned you in..."

Unrolling a metre from each roll one by one, "This cotton with vicuña" she draped it across Sevika's shoulder "Dark... smooth... chocolate... with cream stripes... it's breathable... stretchy... easy to work in... and it looks lovely with your skin tone" she gulped as Sevika stared at her.

"I'll pair this with a cotton-linen blend white shirt... There's midnight plum and pure black in this suit fabric too. I-if you don't like this I can do more navies and greys too... perhaps a claret..." she turned to step away but felt Sevika's arm wrap hold her by the waist, pulling her back in.

"Are you purposely being this sweet with me or is it just part of your hospitality?" she asked and the seamstress turned pink, holding the fabric across her face to hide it "I'm just... doing my job... ma'am." Sevika released her promptly, composing herself in front of the mirror.

"The brown'll do" she finally said and the assistant nodded "Good choice! Great choice! Now time for accessories..." she wrung her hands, bringing over a choice selection of ties, buttons and tie clasps. She held up two ties "umber or navy?" she asked and Sevika pointed to umber.

"Hmm..." she studied the display trays "I'm going to pick the brass buttons with the Zaunite sigil and the guilded tiger tie clasp with amber eyes... is that okay?" she proposed, holding up her choices and Sevika smiled a little "Playing mind reader... are we?"

The tailor separated all of Sevika's selections, looking up at her "I think I... now know what you like..." she simply said, carting all the stuff away except the mirror. She brought a wooden stool in, setting it down before Sevika and fetching a measuring tape, notepad and pencil.

"Forgive me if I struggle a bit... I usually have someone to help..." she tucked the pencil behind her ear and held the notepad between her teeth, standing up on the stool. She gestured with a hand for Sevika to straighten up and look in the mirror as she began measuring her.

She stretched the tape across her chest, almost tripping from the edge of the stool but felt Sevika's hands hold her waist, steadying her. Her ears turned red but she lowered her head, powering through.

The circumference of her neck, arm, bicep... she cast the tape behind Sevika, noting the width of her back and shoulders, sizing her waist and stomach. The smoke from her cigar... boozy notes on her shirt and the scent of sandalwood and leather enveloped her, their faces inches apart.

The assistant struggled to focus, pulling the pencil and jotting down the numbers in her notebook. She felt Sevika's gaze burning through her skin, watching her leisurely yet intensely. Hopping off the stool, the seamstress kneeled, fingers slightly shaky as she measured from her hip to ankle, knee to ankle.

She took a deep breath, doing the inseam and brushing Sevika's crotch. "S-sorry" her voice broke and she feared looking up as she circled her knee, thigh and hip, measuring from near her hem across the taint and up her butt. She felt Sevika's groin muscles flex and quickly set the tape down, scribbling in her notepad.

She felt her heartbeat quicken, the page blurring before her eyes.

"You okay down there...?" Sevika asked in her husky voice and the seamstress froze, nodding microscopically. She felt Sevika's rough, warm fingers curl under her chin and lift her face "Can't say you're the first woman to kneel breathlessly before me..." she whispered.

"I'm just... doing my job..." the assistant uttered as Sevika snaked behind her head, loosening her hair, hand resting heavily on her shoulder, staring at her heaving chest. Sevika gently slipped her glasses down her nose "How about we take the hospitality upstairs...? In that nice, little bedroom of yours..." she proposed.

*

*

*

"Aaaah!" the seamstress screamed, eyes rolling back as she gripping the bedpost from where her hands were tied to it with her own panties. She saw Sevika's hand curling around her wrists, pounding her between the legs with her knee, her big body weighing down on her.

"Damn your clothes" she sat up, ripping up her underskirt completely and shoving it inside her as she whimpered, soaking through it all. Sevika stared at her spread legs, dress bunched up under her with her blouse and sleeves ripped to expose her breasts, body undulating, butt squeezing and begging for her.

She smiled wickedly, smacking her cheeks hard till they turned red with finger marks, tears sprouted from the woman's eyes. Sevika curled her arm under her belly, rubbing her sensitive bud and forcing her fingers inside her, pushing the mess of cloth deeper as she returned to pounding.

The seamstress' moans grew louder, face pressing into the sheets as she picked the pace up, thrusts steady and hard. "Is this too much for you?" Sevika asked, pinching her clitoris and forcing another finger inside her. The tailor shook her head, arching her back more. Sevika seemed impressed despite herself, tilting the woman's face "You'll go far..." she kissed her drooling lips.

"I'll make sure your business...

never dries up"

***

[danosrosegarden]

Haiiiii!! I’m happy you got requests open again! I’ve been loving the angel Eddie series! Eli my beloved would you be willing to do something cute and fluffy about taking Eddie on a date. I don’t think he’s ever been to a zoo or an aquarium and I love those places. So tl:dr Eddie and Reader going on a date to the zoo and them just being excited and happy to show him something innocent and fun

Some Sweet Day - Edward Nashton x GN!Reader

Contains: minor descriptions of anxiety, but mostly fluff!

Note: thank you for the request, Savvy! Eddie deserves some fun fluff, doesn't he? :-)

Maybe it was a mistake, bringing him here. His cheeks were dusted with an anxious crimson, and his grassy eyes darted around as groups of people walked by. Their mindless chatter was bouncing around his brain in a cymbal crash crescendo, you were sure of it by the way he grabbed onto your hand and held tight.

"It'll be fun!" you'd told Edward as you handed him his ticket into the zoo. But now, you were wondering if this really was a good idea at all. You were determined to make the broken child inside of his soul smile today.

You started in the jungle. The ground was slicked with murky mist. The lush green trees appeared empty at first, until a monkey with fiery locks of orange fur swung from an obscured pocket of bushy leaves.

"Look, Eddie, he's showing off for us," you laughed as the monkey tumbled from branch to branch.

Edward offered you a small smile and nodded. "Silly," he mumbled.

The caves chirped with brown bats and smelled of old water. Edward held tight onto your hand as you stumbled through the darkness and listened to the bats flap about.

"I think bats are cute," you whispered to him.

"Me too, honey."

You were most excited for the aquarium. Edward noticed where you were leading him as you made your way down a flight of stairs.

"We're going to the aquarium?" he asked softly.

"We sure are." You grinned. "Why? Did you want to go somewhere else?"

"No," he answered. "You just seem extra excited."

You smiled brightly at him and squeezed his clammy hand. "The jellyfish are my favorite."

The longer you looked at the fish, the more amazed with nature you became. The streaks of popping color dancing around their smooth skin flowed so freely and gorgeously. The cloudy tangles of tentacles streaking down from the jellyfish, the gently pulsating gills of the wide-eyed sharks, the spots splattered on the flat tops of the stingrays...it all combined in a spectacle that made your heart grin.

"They're all so beautiful, Eddie."

"I think so, too, sweetheart."

"I wish I could take one home as a pet."

"A shark?!"

You laughed and then turned your head as the pitter-patter of tiny feet ran up beside you. A young girl with frizzy hair and thick glasses smiled up at you. She was missing multiple teeth and had a few shining silver ones in the back.

"Did you know sharks don't have bones?" she yelled at you. "I think sharks are the coolest things in the world. They live on every ocean in the whole planet! How awesome is that?!"

You giggled at the little girl's enthusiasm and nodded. "Huh, that's amazing! Did you know that there are about 500 species of sharks?"

She nodded furiously. "My favorite are great white sharks. A lot of people are scared of sharks, but more people die putting on their pants every year than by shark attacks! Did you know--"

A frazzled woman with a phone pressed against her shoulder and cheek ran up behind the girl and grabbed her by the shoulder. "Franny, for God's sake, how many times have I told you to stop running off?" The woman looked at you and Edward apologetically. "I'm so sorry. She hears the word 'shark' and goes running away in that direction."

Eddie shook his head. "No, it's no problem," he said. "She's a smart girl."

The mother looked down at a beaming Franny and gave Edward a small smile. "She is, isn't she?"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

By the time you left the zoo, the sun was wavering with the heat of the evening, leaking bright tangerine and coloring the clouds the same orange glow.

"Thanks for taking me here today," Edward said as you trudged through the packed parking lot. "It was fun."

"Honestly, Eddie, I was a little worried at first. I thought it might've been too peopley for you."

Edward chuckled softly and shook his head.

"I'm happy I went."

You studied his side profile for a moment as you made your way back to your car. The nervous, blood red rouge had long faded from his cheeks. And he was smiling. He ended the day smiling. That's really all you could've asked for; a happy day with your sweet guy. No matter where he went, no matter how fearful and daunting it seemed, all he really needed was you by his side. <3

[scariusaquarius]

ghost on the shore 4.

Nixie! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: After the sudden death of your nephew, a sudden detail about that strange lake within the woods piques your curiosity. Unable to withstand the temptation, you decide to see if the legends of the lake were true. Do you wish to reap what you sow?

-

A/n: I honestly have no excuse as to why this took so long to get out other than laziness and procrastination. Life has been a bit of a bundle of fireworks and i am the lit match in the box lmao. N E WAYZ, i hope you guys liked the plottwist and enjoy the ride!! I have some ideas cooked up but am gonna do my best to incorporate what I think would work most for the story. Hopefully we'll get some more Leon action soon <3

Chapter 3

-

Genre: Folklore, Horror, Angst

Rated: Mature

Warning: Death, Drowning, Child Death, Cursing, Nudity, Graphic Depictions of Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Slight Gore, idk what else

-

Author: ScariusAquarius

-

When you arrived at work, the pounding in your head had yet to go away. It was almost like a chronic migraine; the light causing the pain to intensify and blurring your vision slightly as you drove to the shop. Parking your truck, you sluggishly slid out of the seat and walked in, slowly taking your sunglasses off while Chris was glancing up at you from his desk. His eyes squinted as he took in your appearance, and the man stated.

"Damn, you look like shit, (L/n). What the hell happened?"

You grumbled, running a hand through your frazzled hair with a sigh.

"Pretty sure I had way too much to drink last night and woke up to Jack jumping all over me. He was way too excited to be mushroom hunting with Johnny today."

Chris looked at you for a moment; observing your appearance and the way you winced as sunlight reflected onto your face from a passing vehicle outside of the shop. Chris then sighed and sat back a bit within his seat. He spoke gently as a strange and perplexed look came over his face.

"Why don't you go spend the day with them then? I'll cover for you today and make yesterday's pay double time?"

Your eyes widened in shock before a strange sense of unease came over you.

As if this wasn't supposed to happen.

"Are you absolutely sure, Chris? I already planned to come in for you and I don't want to leave you hanging."

Chris rolled his eyes before he teased you, winking at you.

"You can pay me back with a drink once you get back from mushroom hunting."

You blinked at him owlishly before chuckling and shaking your head as you backed out of the shop.

"Not a chance, Redfield."

Chris scoffed, but before he could get another word in, you were already out the door with your phone in hand.

(Nickname): Hey JM, is that offer to come along still open?

JM: Sure is. Did Chris let you go or something? You aint got yourself fired did you?

(Nickname): hell no lmao Chris would be a damn idiot to let me go. He's letting me off for the day cause I apparently look like shit today

JM: Well, he aint wrong 😂

(Nickname): go fuck yourself. I'll be there in five minutes, assface

Huffing, you rolled your eyes before heading on down the road. For some reason, there was something in your gut that felt something was wrong. It was almost as if something was different; something important that was missing....but what was it?

Why were you different?

You frowned and glanced at yourself in the rearview mirror. Your eyes had bags beneath them, almost as if you hadn't slept in days, and your hair was frizzy. Your skin looked a bit pale, and you glanced away with a grimace. So maybe you did look like shit....but that was normal after a night of drinking, wasn't it?

So why didn't you feel hungover? The only thing bothering you was the headache that kept coming and going randomly. You were pulled from your thoughts when you pulled into the driveway, Jack jumping up and down in his batman rainboots and swinging his big basket John had bought him for the occasion.

"Aunt (Y/n)! Are you going with Daddy and I?"

You smiled gently despite the volume of his voice making your head swim, and you nodded as you stepped out of the truck. You picked Jack up the second he jumped at you, and you lifted him up, teasing him by pulling on the brim of his sunhat.

"Why, of course! I can't let my boys have all the fun now, can I? Besides, someone has to keep your daddy out of trouble."

John made a face at you, flipping you the bird before he gestured to his motorcycle.

"Unless we're all cramming on the bike, we're taking your truck."

"No shit, sherlock. Give me a minute to get changed."

John nodded before loading Jack into the truck, and you were quick to get inside to change into some forest-appropriate clothing. As you went into the bathroom and turned on the light, you gasped as the bulb suddenly burst; plunging you into darkness. Fishing your phone out of your back pocket, you turned on the flashlight as a strange chill ran up your spine.

A sudden burning sensation on your leg had you almost yelping, and you flicked your phone down to your leg to see an angry red mark on your ankle. For a moment, all you could do was stare as you realized the mark almost....looked specific in shape.

Like a handprint.

A sudden stinging in your head had you feeling nauseous.

The water in the tub bubbled angrily, and you both watched in terror as the man in the lake brought his head up out of the tub. His eyes were pitch black, angry and menacing as he hissed out, his hand shooting out and gripping your ankle painfully.

"Mine!"

You panted as John knocked on the door, his voice lulling you back from the strange memory-like vision.

"Hey, you alright in there?"

You took a moment to catch your breath and carefully opened the door, John's confused face greeting you. He raised an eyebrow as he noticed your panicked demeanor, squinting slightly.

"The hell has gotten into you? You alright?"

You stared at him for a moment before shaking your head slightly to clear away the sudden fogginess, replying shakily.

"Yeah, the...uh, the....um, lightbulb burst. Scared the shit out of me."

John snorted before teasing you despite the slight suspicion still swimming in his stormy grey eyes.

"Leave it to you to get freaked out by a light going out."

"Get on with yourself, would you?"

John snickered as you shoved past him, but even as you went out the front door, John couldn't help but feel as though something was off.

What was missing?

The water rippled gently.

-TIMESKIP-

As John drove the truck and Jack excitedly bounced between you both, you were staring out the window with a frown. The closer you guys got to the forest, the clearer the anxiety became. You weren't exactly sure what had you so on edge, but as John parked and asked Jack if he was ready, you couldn't help but to smile and relax.

Perhaps you were just being dramatic. Perhaps it was all in your head, so as John gathered the camping gear, you were quick to stretch and crack your back to get ready to hike. Jack came up to you, jumping up with a big smile.

"Aunt (Y/n), can you give me a piggy back ride?"

You smiled and lifted the boy, putting him up on your shoulders, your nephew squealing with delight as he became high up in the air.

"Daddy, look! Look! I'm bigger than you!"

John scoffed and wagged his finger at Jack.

"Now don't you go growing up on me too fast now, or I'll be real cross with you, boy."

Jack giggled, and you chuckled before gesturing.

"Lead the way, JM."

John nodded and began walking, leading you both through the thick foliage of the forest as if he'd done it a million times before. All was quiet for a moment as a sudden light of twilight settled over the woods. You hummed along as Jack sang a sea shanty from one of his latest fantasy books he had been reading, absent-mindedly walking after John as the man led you deeper into the woods.

A chill was settling into your spine, making you shiver slightly as you pointed the fact out.

"Man, it's getting chilly."

John turned to give you a strange look, a bead of sweat running down his neck as he glanced at you.

"You're feeling cold? It's smoldering out here!"

You shrugged and said.

"You know I feel the cold more than you do, which is surprising considering you're more bones than skin."

John made a face at you, huffing.

"Piss off. I look good."

Jack giggled and whispered to you not-so-quietly.

"Daddy said a bad word."

"Yeah, he sure did. How does five dollars in the swear jar sound?"

John guffawed, exclaiming.

"Five dollars?!"

You snickered as Jack giggled loudly, and you adjusted the boy before John grumbled to himself, placing down the camping gear and stated.

"We'll camp here. There's a lake just beyond the campsite that we can get some water and filter it to drink later. Let's set up and get to mushroom hunting. Sound good, Jack?"

"Yeah!"

You set Jack on the ground, and you crackled your knuckles.

"Alright, I'll get some firewood and build up a fire while you and Jack get the tent set up."

"Of course, make the men do all the heavy liftin and buildin'"

You shrugged.

"It's a mans world, so I've heard."

John just rolled his eyes before shooing you away, and you began to gather up sticks and dry logs for the fire. As you began to get a bit farther away from the camp, you were suddenly aware at how quiet the forest was. There was no wind, no birds, no animals, not a single sound to be heard other than the bittersweet melody of a violin being carried in the distance.

There was a part of you that was shocked and stupefied by the sound, but another part that was curious and enchanted by the beautiful music. Why on earth would anybody be playing a violin in the forest?

You were certain that you had lost consciousness for a moment because one moment, you were taking a step towards the music and the next, you were knee-deep in the murky waters of the lake. Your heart was racing, mouth agape as you stared at the center of the lake, and he was pleased.

His cyan eyes were captivating, looking at you as if you were the only thing he could ever have wanted in his whole life, and you were unable to formulate a coherent thought as his music turned sultry and romantic; beckoning you to come to him.

Come closer, little dove. Listen to my song.

I missed you.

You could hear the words in your mind as clear as day, and his statement confused you.

You were certain that you had never come across this person before...but his voice was the same as the one you had heard in your memory-like vision. His face was the same except he didn't look so...monstrous. In fact, the Man in the Lake looked like a normal naked man save for the deathly pale complexion he had.

You blinked, and suddenly he was right in front of you, his eyes soft as he gazed at you. The man murmured, kneeling before you when your knees suddenly buckled as you stared deep into his enchanting eyes.

"You....don't remember...."

Why were you different?

He sounded sad, his violin becoming sad as well, and you spoke breathlessly, feeling as though the man was stealing the air from your lungs with every note that he played.

"Don't remember what?"

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes gazing longingly at your lips, and the man brushed his nose against yours. His skin was so cold that it forced a shiver out of you, and he whispered softly.

"This time....I'll be...different too."

Closer and closer, the man came to you, brushing his fingers against your cheek as he brushed his lips against yours, and like electricity, the feeling shocked you. Your eyes widened, wondering why you couldn't pull away, why he felt so familiar before suddenly, your eyes were fluttering closed and you were being sucked into his trance completely.

"Aunt (Y/n)!"

You gasped and jolted, startled and confused to find Jack and John standing before you. John looked spooked, concern flashing within his stormy eyes, and he instructed Jack as the boy crowded you.

"Stand back, Jack."

"Ugh, my head....what the hell is going on?"

John knelt beside you, his fingers vrushing through your hair to feel your skull for any injuries as he spoke, his tone stern from his worry.

"You just froze up, wasn't moving or nothing. You kept mumbling and then just collapsed! You were out for 10 minutes. Thought you were having a goddamn stroke or seizure or something. I knew I should've made you stay home."

You winced as your headache resurfaced, and John carefully helped you to stand up as you mumbled.

"I'm probably just dehydrated and hungry or something. I promise I'm alright."

John shook his head, hissing slightly in frustration.

"No way. I'm taking you to a doctor. This ain't normal, (Y/n)."

You were becoming frustrated as well, shaking your head with a grimace.

"No, John. I'm okay. Just...take me home. I just need some more rest and food."

John gave you a disgruntled growl before he sighed deeply. He gave Jack a look before saying.

"Alright, fine. I gotta stop into the drug store for Jack's medicine anyway. His inhaler is almost empty. We'll come back later tonight, Jack, alright?"

Jack nodded, and the three of you were loaded up into the truck. As Jack hummed along to the radio, you were staring out at the forests as the trees flew past. John was driving fast, tapping the steering wheel with a nervous look on his face as he continued to glance at you every now and then. While his worry was normal, there was a part of you that was annoyed by it. You just needed sleep and rest....definitely a bath, too, because of how much you had been sweating.

It didn't take long for John to get into town, and the three of you got out to go into the drug store. Once inside, Jack and John went to the pharmacist while you looked around at the shelves for a quick snack. As you scanned the shelves, you could feel a presence behind you.

Familiar and cold and smelling just like the rain.

You slowly turned around, and were startled to find that nobody was there. Shaking your head, you cursed and sighed.

Get a grip, girl. You're just being delusional.

But why did it feel so real?

You took a calming breath. You definitely just needed some food, sleep, and a nice relaxing bath. Grabbing your snacks and a drink, you met with John and Jack at the counter and stood quietly as John exchanged money and flirtations with the cashier before you three left.

When you arrived home, you immediately went into the bathroom and began to fill the tub. Lighting up candles and placing epsom salt and bubbles into the water, you ate your food while you waited for the bath to fill up.

You could hear John and Jack playing around in the living room as Jack watched one of his shows, and you sighed softly to yourself as the bath was finally filled. Stepping into the tub and sighing in delight as the hot water immediately helped to relieve your tension, your eyes closed and you finally felt peaceful.

There was a sudden thought of familiarity about the scene, but as always, there was another part that felt as though something was missing. Why did you feel so empty? Why did you feel so....wrong?

You were a bit sleepy, humming softly as you relaxed more, and you shivered at the feeling of hands on your body. Fingertips brushed against your ribs, lips on your ankle, and your eyes were stuck shut, refusing to open despite the sudden shock that ran through you.

The hands were gentle, fingertips ghosting along your skin, and you were aware of the fact that the lips were getting dangerously close to your womanhood. Tingles of electricity ran down your spine, and a soft sigh left you.

While there was a part of you that was afraid, there was another part that was under his spell as his violin echoed within the quieter part of your mind.

I missed you.

Why did it sound so gentle and honest? You scrunched your face up slightly as the man gripped your hips gently, and you listened as water came crashing down around you in the tub.

He was hovering over you, the distinct smell of ozone and rain wafting into your senses, and his cold nose brushed against yours.

"I want to hate you....but you intrigue me...clever little dove."

But why? What had you done to deserve it?

His lips were on your cheek, his body slotted between your legs, and your heart was pounding and racing within your chest. His hand was cupping your cheek gently, and from the gesture came another vision.

The man’s hands were soft against your naked skin, gliding along your ribs and stomach before his hands climbed up to your shoulders, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered.

"All mine."

You let out a shaky breath, and the man whispered into your ear.

"Pretty dove....it's so silly to resist me....but I will be different too."

Heat was blooming in your chest, and you slowly opened your eyes to look directly into his. The man looked eager, dipping his head down as he whispered against your lips.

"Let me in....pledge yourself to me...."

Come closer. Listen to my song.

His eyes were half-lidded, and you blinked as you became overwhelmed by his stare. Suddenly, the illusion was broken, and you were left in the bathroom all alone, the water freezing. Shivering, you shook your head and stood up, cheeks hot from the embarrassment. Why couldn't you stop thinking about some fictional being that didn't exist? Especially in such an intimate way!

Swallowing thickly, you blew out the candles, drained the tub, and you missed the dark mark of a kiss on your neck right where the man had kissed you, the bruise slowly fading away.

The water rippled gently.

[CHAPTER 5 SOON]

Tagging: @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @motzgurke @chernayawidow

[petersbaby]

HAHAHA I wrote this when I was half asleep PLEASE don’t make fun of it I will scream

Please - sub!billy x reader

Warnings: this is fucking crazy. I don’t know where this came from, but the idea of him being tied to a bed wouldn’t leave my thoughts. Good god. Uh, bondage/restraints, pain play, mommy kink (heavy usage), masochism maybe but not that bad, burning, smut (sex), cum talk (I love talking about cum), honestly it’s pure filth. PURE FILTH

A/N: let me know if this needs any more warnings I’m super tired and might’ve looked over something

-

“I love you like this. I wish the whole town could see this, that you’re not all big and bad. You’re just a pretty little boy who begs for what he wants.”

You look at his body intently, devouring it with your eyes, walking around the bed. Billy was restrained by all four limbs, wrists cuffed to the headboard and ankles tied tightly to the bedposts at the bottom. He doesn’t respond to your attempts to get a reaction out of him, he doesn’t deny it because it’s true.

“Hmm. Don’t wanna talk?”

He shakes his head ‘no’ quickly. He’s somehow already sweating, curls sticking to his face and neck, getting frizzy from the heat he emanated.

“I guess I’ll have to leave you alone, then…” you glance down at the ground, implying you’re going to turn around and abandon him, helpless.

“No, don’t. Please.” He whines, and you come back to his side.

“I know what you want, but you’re gonna have to be good to get it. Okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Fire shoots straight down to your core, setting it alight and it spreads rapidly. You almost lose your composure, having to mask how horny that made you, but you keep it together.

“Good boy.” You gently run your fingers across his forehead, pushing back the stray pieces of hair that were stuck to it.

You climb onto the bed, on top of the nude boy, still in all your clothes besides your shorts, which were already gone. Reaching to the side, you grab Billy’s pack of cigarettes and take one into your mouth. You light it, taking in a deep inhale and exhaling the smoke loudly.

“Hold this, baby.” You place it between his fingers, and he holds it, though he’s restrained.

You lean over, starting to do exactly what you wanted to do. You place the very first kiss onto his jawbone, near his earlobe. You’re horribly slow with the amount of progress you make, the ultimate goal to reach his cock.

You didn’t care, you knew he could wait, and you took lots of careful time licking and sucking on the salty, sensitive skin of his neck. Marks form all the way down the side of it, and he groans each time you bite down hard. The sound of his desperation was music to your ears, so you kept on going. You suck on the skin covering his collarbone, working all the way across it to the end.

“Everyone that looks at you is going to know you’re mine, that I own you.” You comment, pulling away and sitting up to admire the work you did with the bites and hickeys. They were already turning a dark purple color, and they were beautiful. You smell smoke and remember the cigarette you had lit, reaching over to take it from his fingers and taking a hit.

“Words, Billy. Hello?” You add.

“Yes- yeah, yeah. You own me, mhm. Can I hit that, please?” His eyes are fixated on the cigarette that sat between your lips.

“Yes, pet, here.”

You place it in his mouth and let him take a hit of it, pulling it away when he took the smoke in. He breathes out through his nose.

“Thank you.” He says softly.

“So polite, I love your manners. Sweet baby.”

You sit and just smoke, taking your leisurely time. You notice in his face that he’s staring at it, and at the cherry red burning end. He didn’t want to say it, but you weren’t a mind-reader, so you assumed he wanted more and brought it to his lips again. He just shakes his head.

“No? What is it, has your color changed?”

“No, no, it’s green.” He rushes out the words to assure you, “just… would you put that out… uh, fuck.” He gets frazzled trying to put it into words. You listen patiently, waiting.

“On me. Please. Burn me.” He finishes quickly.

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Mhm.”

You knew he had kind of a thing for pain, but were hesitant about this. You didn’t want to hurt him, you really didn’t, but he asked you to. Of all the cigarettes you’ve smoked together- it was a habit you shared- he’s never said anything like that.

You hesitate for a moment, but figure he’s done it before to know he wants it. You take one last hit of the cigarette before pressing the tip of it down onto his chest, on his upper pec.

“Ah- shit,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck.” He breathes.

You discard the cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table, coming back to look down at the damage, a perfect white circle with a bit of ash speckled around it. You blow the ash away, and place a kiss on top of the burn.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You reply mindlessly, not noticing the desperation in his face as he stares up at you.

He starts to shift a bit, enough that you can feel it.

“I need-“

“You need to wait.” You interrupt him, shutting him down.

You place kisses all across his torso, starting at his chest and making your way down to his abdomen. You feel his tight muscles constrict even tighter when you kiss over them, his sensitive body tensing up each time.

He’s still shifting, whining quietly every now and then, trying to be good and not buck his hips. You work your way down to his happy trail, a line of blonde hair starting at the bottom of his belly button. Continuing, you get right to where the bush of pubic hair starts to form, and stop there. He starts to whine louder, close to tears.

“Please.”

“Be patient, I’ve still got all my clothes on. That’s not very fair, is it?” You ask, tilting your head as you do.

“N-no.” He shakes his head.

You reach for the bottom hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, discarding it somewhere in the floor. His big, dumb eyes fall down to your chest. You make quick work of getting your bra off too, letting it fall away.

You feel him continue to stare at you, getting up off the bed to remove your panties. Now that you’re off of his lap, you can see how miserable he is. His cock is a darker shade of red, hard as a rock, leaking desperately from the tip and twitching on its own.

“Poor thing. Can’t do anything about that without your hands, huh? Do you need help?”

He nods, swallowing hard. When you finally get back on top of him, your warm, wet pussy makes direct contact with his erection.

“Ahh, oh god, oh my god.” He moans, and you start to rock a bit, grinding on his dick without letting it actually get in. Your slick covers it, the entire shaft, when you spread your pussy lips around it and continue the bringing motion.

The motion stimulated your clit wonderfully, you felt like you could just do this forever. Maybe you didn’t need penetration, this contact was something so good that you could cum from it already. He watches the place where your cunt is rutting against his boner, and can’t take any more.

“Put it in, please, I want to fuck you so bad. What do you want me to do? I’ll do it, I’ll do anything. Just please fucking put it in.”

You come to realize that tears are actively falling from the corners of his eyes. You decide to give in, in that moment, but wanted to push him just a little more, just for your sick enjoyment.

“Hmm. Okay, well, do you know my name?” You ask.

You see some cogs turning in his little head, trying to find the answer.

“Aww, so horny you can’t even remember my name.” You reach to caress his cheek, skin hot.

“It’s mommy.” You bend down to whisper in his ear.

“Please, mommy, please. Mommy, mommy, mommy. I need you, mommy, please,” he starts to ramble, and you give a satisfied smile.

You line it up and sink down onto him with no warning, and he cries out loud. Almost like a sob, it filled the air in the room. You sat all the way down on his cock and stayed that way for a moment, getting used to it. Soon, you start to move, riding his cock slowly.

“Oh, my god, mommy, thank you, fuck, it’s sososososo good-“ he rambles again, saying words just to say them. He can’t be quiet, moans loud and resonating, babbling incoherently, crying and mewling.

“Stop crying, I’ve got you, baby.”

You lean back down to kiss the tears off of his face.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try.”

“I’m taking care of you. Aren’t I taking good care of you, hmm?”

“Yes, mommy’s taking such good care of me.”

“There you go, good boy.”

You increase your speed, now bouncing up and down on his cock. He watched your tits bounce with each movement, enamored. He wishes so bad that he could touch them, that he could touch any of you. Literally anything, he just wanted to feel your skin beneath his fingers.

You start to let out moans that mix harmoniously with his, riding him at just the right speed for you. The sight below you was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, your boy sweaty with wide eyes and blown out pupils, mouth hanging open and panting like a dog.

All the while covered in bruises and bite marks that you made.

For the first time tonight, you leaned down and kissed him. You finally let him kiss you, and he was over the moon. The feeling was electric, his lips on yours, and you try your best to actually kiss but end up just moaning into each other’s mouths. Having to pull away, you ride him like your life depended on it, and it felt like it did.

“Mmh, god, I’m so close.” You try to say but the words are all slurred together, and you keep your perfect pace until you’re clamping down on his cock and orgasming hard, letting it wash over your entire body and take over your senses.

You keep on riding, using him, his dick hitting your g-spot over and over again. It was almost too much, overkill, but not enough to stop. You couldn’t stop, so you didn’t. You continued bouncing your ass up and down on his cock, relishing in the feeling you get when he’s filling you up.

You hardly noticed the words being spoken. When you tune back in, it’s him just begging and begging you to give him permission.

“M-mommy I can’t, please.” He whines, unable to keep it in.

“Oh, go ahead, pretty boy. Fill me up, keep going til nothing’s left.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, and you feel him twitch inside of you before spilling. You start to slow down your pace, still continuing your movements until he started to shake and then you got off.

You immediately start spilling all over the bed below you, his hot cum leaking out. You’ll wash the sheets, just not now. You were just taking in the moment, silently appreciating it.

“Shit.” You remark, trying to get yourself together. Once you have, at least a little bit, you quickly tug on your panties and throw one of his big t-shirts on. You go to the foot of the bed first to untie his ankles, knowing that the knots you did were tight and possibly cutting off circulation.

He let out a sigh of relief at his freedom, then you grabbed a tiny key from the bedside table drawer. You move quickly to unlock the cuffs, one at a time until he’s soon completely unrestrained.

“Are you okay? What do you need?” You check in. You were tired, but not too tired to make sure he’s taken care of.

“I’m okay. Pants, please, and water.”

“Okay.”

You go to retrieve a pair of sweatpants and toss them over, then head to the kitchen and grab him a cold bottle of water. When you come back, he has a cigarette lit and is smoking it happily. You hand him the water and sit down next to where he lay.

You watch as he sort of returns to his normal self, and you wonder if he’s as exhausted as he is.

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

You smile. “Yes.” And you snatch the cigarette out of his hand, stealing it.

It makes you look down at his chest, and you wonder out loud, “does that really turn you on?” as you trace the skin around the burn with you fingertips delicately.

“I dunno,” he shrugs, “just feels good.”

“Well that’s something we’ll not do very often, sometimes, if you want, but not often. Can’t have scars all over this perfect body.” You compliment as your fingers wander and caress his bare torso.

He blushes, only slightly, smiling. “Stop it.”

“What? It is. I know it and you know it too.”

“That’s all you. You’re perfect.”

[bellafragolina]

Emmet leans further against the window, watching the grassy hills full of rolling Wooloo tumble by. If he listens, he can almost hear their delighted baaing, a greet called to the train and its passengers. He waves, and almost swears he can see a Wooloo raise a hoof to him in return.

"It waved back!" Emmet tells his brother, chest puffed up.

"Maybe it thought you were its mother." Ingo replies, blowing steam off his cup of tea. Emmet's glower doesn't phase him, too warmed by the drink to suffer from the cold glare. "You look it, with your frizzy hair."

"I am Emmet!" Emmet snaps back, frantically patting the extra electric type static from his hair. "I look like you!"

"You do not." Ingo says, pointing to the window again. "You look like the Wooloo. Which is why they like you." More Wooloo roll along the fields, the same direction as the train, almost like they're chasing it. "Look at them, so distraught their mother is abandoning them."

Emmet kicks Ingo in the shin, causing him to sputter into his cup. "Now you look like a Slurpuff. We should catch you one before we go home." He tucks his legs up into the chair before Ingo can kick him back. "And I will catch a Wooloo, yup. To snuggle!"

Ingo grabs his shirt, and the two tussle until a frazzled conductor threatens to ban them from the trains entirely.

[charliem0rningstar]

From the desk of @one-coming-is-enough , Logos to the World, Prince of Peace, and Crown Regent of Hell:

(I'm His unofficial Metatron--given that I am the daughter of @the-metatron , this seems appropriate.)

Hi there! You're cordially invited to:

the throne room.

*Upon receiving this, you're there. It's instantaneous. You just look up and you're good.*

*It's got lavender ferns in big pots now. And couches, also lavender and very modern, floating. There is a shiny purple asymmetrical coffee table with a small purple fish dish containing wrapped butterscotch candies.

The rest is a lavender void filled with stars.

Jesus Himself reclines in an egg-shaped armchair, wearing a lavender double-breasted suit that pops against His dark skin. His long, frizzy hair is in a ponytail, and He wears a golden crown of thorns tipped with dangling ruby drops.*

"Charliiiiiie, what's shakin'?" Jesus doesn't get up, but waves at the egg-shaped chair across from Him. "The place is a little under construction just yet. Don't mind the stardust. Roscato?"

Two wineglasses appear on the table and fill with a bubbly red.

*she looks about a bit frazzled but blinks then sits across from him*

"I'm um I'm alright, I just didn't expect to be here just yet, annnnnnnnd you are?"

*she doesn't pick up the wine glass close to her*

[thezoraprince]

A Frizzy Frazzled Mess - Bazz x reader

“sidon ( and bazz ) with a sweetheart whos having a bad hair day! i can just see the sweetheart stressed and annoyed cause their hair is being stupid and frizzy or something, maybe even on the verge of tears from frustration and sidon ( or bazz ) are just standing behind them, trying to keep it together and comfort them. they prolly see it as such a weird and foreign issue cause theyre BALD! BALD! BALD! 🧜🏻‍♂️👴🏻 MY EEYYYEEEESSSSS! 🔥👀🔥

have you ever seen that video of the little boy who drew his mom and it was kinda ass and the dad was laughing, the boy was sad, and the mom was trying not to laugh while telling her son he did a good job? thats what im seeing right now 💀 or that scene in megamind “ oh roxanne! youre hair looks... exciting.” - @millie-berra​

here’s Bazz!

(Sidon can be found here)

dreary, rainy days almost always mean frizzy hair 

and most days you can deal with it

but not today

no matter how much your brushed 

or how much spray or leave in conditioner you put in your hair

it was not getting any better

and let’s face it, you were frustrated

REALLY frustrated

Bazz returns home from work to you struggling 

“Y/n? Are you alright?”

and you turn around to look at him with the biggest frown on your face

“Your hair looks…?”

“Don’t even finish that thought, Bazz.”

he comes up behind you and give you the gentlest hug

“Hey… it’s alright. If it makes you feel any better, none of the Zoras would care what your hair looks like.”

“I know…”

“And besides… we don’t have to go out if you don’t want to. We can have a relaxing night in. How does that sound?”

and you smile

“I’d really like that.”

so you just roll with it

and Bazz makes you feel so much better about the situation

“Maybe tomorrow it will do what you want.”

[blamelessfish]

Silver Part Three

Previous // Next // Master List

The drive back to my apartment was uneventful, save for Alphus’ taste in music. It was some indie station, and between the music, it was advertising some kind of Woodstock reboot in July, in New York. I turned to Alphus. “Can we listen to something else?” I asked in a half-joking manner.

“What?” he asked.

“I just expected a centuries old construct to have a more refined music taste.” He laughed.

“Not all of us can get by on Mozart and mid 1950’s Jazz.”

“You leave Jazz Abroad out of this,” I said as we pulled into the parking lot in front of our unit. “It didn’t do anything to you.” He laughed, and we got out of the car. The smell hit me. Mrs.Kinnian from 3C was making her apple turnovers again. Alphus leaned on the roof of the car, my old Plymouth creaking under his bulk. 

“Smells like Mrs.K wants something from you again,” he said. I waved at Mrs.Kinnian through her window, returning the warm smile that she gave me.

“Why do you say that?”

“She and Mr.K don’t like apple turnovers. But you do.” I patted my stomach. I started towards her door.

“I might as well see what she wants then.”

“Silver, we’ve got our plate full.”

“And it’s about to be more full,” I said as I approached her door, across the hall from mine. “With apple turnovers.” I knocked on the door. Alphus sighed. “We’ll see what she wants and take some baked goods. That’s all.”

“We don’t have time for this.” Mrs.Kinnian opened the door. She was a tiny old lady, with frazzled white hair that blew up around her head like a frizzy halo, and glasses thick enough to stop bullets. The smell of cinnamon, apples, and chocolate blasted out the hall past her, and my stomach growled. She smiled at me.

“Well hello there silver,” she said, with the kind of affection that only a grandparent could give. Damn. I really was going to end up doing a favor for her, wasn’t I? She looked up at Alphus. “Hello, Martin,” she said, and smiled at him too.

“Hello, Dora,” he said, and I could hear that his resolve was weakening.

“Won’t you come inside for some baked goods and coffee?”

“Actually,” Alphus said, putting a heavy hand on my shoulder, “we just wanted to check in on you. We need to get to some other business we have.” 

“Oh you two can’t even take some of them off my hands?” She stepped aside, and her old, spoiled beagle wheezed his way over to me. I crouched and pet him.

“Unfortunately not,” Alphus said. “We’d have to take them to go.” The beagle, Mr.Whitmus, started licking my hands.

“Oh are you sure dear? I made those gooey fudge cookies you love, and you know they’re best warm.”

“Well, I- uh,” he hesitated, and I smiled, knowing we had him. “Okay,” he said. “Just a few minutes though.”

“Of course, dear,” she said. I stood up, and she led the both of us inside. On the walls of her entrance hall were pictures of her and Mr.Kinnian, a heavyset, kind man with dark skin and a bushy mustache. Her carpeting was plush, as was her furniture. She had a thick, orange and green floral couch, a padded rocking chair with purple cushions, and a gray loveseat. All of this around a dark wooden coffee table with an unsullied finish. The orange face of Garfield smiled at us from a set of four coasters set around a metal bowl full of multicolored stones that doubled as a candle holder. She shuffled off to the kitchen, and both Alphus and I took a seat on the couch. Alphus glanced at the T.V, which was playing a rerun of Jeopardy.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Alphus hissed.

“What do you mean?” I asked, doing my best to sound innocent.

“We have other shit we have to do, and-”

“Are you sure that I can’t get the two of you any coffee?”

“I’m good, thank you,” Alphus said, doing his best to hide his irritation.

“Just some tea for me, please,” I said. “I’m sure that Martin would love a cup, he’s just being polite.”

“What the-”

“Oh, he should know better than to be polite in this household!” Dora laughed, cutting Alphus off. Alphus groaned, and rested his forehead in his hands.

“No sugar, please,” he said, defeated.

“I’ll take some,” I said. A few minutes passed quietly, Alphus occasionally muttering the trivia that contestants on Jeopardy missed under his breath. Eventually, Dora brought us each a plate with our baked goods of choice, and our tea.

“Won’t you have any?” Alphus asked.

“I already had some,” she said. We all made small talk for a little while, which helped to ease the tension that had been growing in my neck since I woke up that morning. Well, it was more of the night before, but that didn’t seem relevant. Mr.Whitmus climbed into my lap. He was a heavy boy, but incredibly soft. At some point, Alphus leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He didn’t need to sleep, but he still needed to enter a sort of trance to regain his energy, where he sort of stopped paying attention to the world around him. I’m still not quite sure how it all works. I’m not a flesh-smith. “Silver,” she finally said after I finished my tea. “I need to ask you a favor.” I looked up from Mr.Whitmus, who I had been showering with belly rubs.

“What’s the favor?”

“Well I,” she hesitated, glancing out the window behind me. “I don’t rightly know.” I raised an eyebrow, and leaned forward as much as I could with a thirty pound beagle in my lap. She leaned in as well. “I think it might’ve had to do with your kind of folk.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, unsure if she meant gay people or practitioners.

“Folks of a magical persuasion,” she whispered, as though we were sharing a conspiracy. Most of the people in our complex were clued in on the supernatural, having had a severe haunting a few years prior, and some of the residents themselves being inhuman beings.

“What did you see?”

“Well I saw it outside, last night,” she said, and looked out her window again. “It was tall, taller than a person, and nothing but skin or bone,” a chill ran up my spine, and Alphus snapped out of his trance, his eyes fixing on her with razor focus. She balked. “Maybe I didn’t see-” Alphus shook his head.

“Please continue,” he said, “it’s important.” She nodded.

“It was so fast, I wasn’t sure what I was looking at.” I stood up, Mr.Whitmus hopping to the ground. Why hadn’t my wards alerted me the moment a feaster entered the complex? “It ran into the woods there,” she said, and gestured to the patch of woods across from the apartment complex. That was bad. I knew that a few families had houses on the other side of the woods, not to mention the people living in the woods themselves. “What should I do?” Alphus paced to the window, looking outside.

“First, get inside as soon as the sun goes down. Stay there. It might be a good idea for Harold to stay home too.” I glanced around her living room. “Do you have anything that’s made of Silver? Genuine, authentic silver. Sterling will do, but the purer the better.”

“I have my mother’s old set,” she said, and walked to a cabinet with glass doors. She opened it, and took out the silverware set, which sat below what I assumed was a picture of her mother. She handed it to me. I took a piece out, and tried to run Arcane Energy through it. It didn’t work.

“This is perfect,” I said. I set some on the windowsill, touching the window.

“Put the silverware by each window, and on the internal lining of the door. Tell the others I said to do the same if they can.” I glanced outside again. It was still bright out, but the sun was slowly beginning to set. About three hours until dark. “I have something else I need to do tonight, but the silver will keep it out.”

“What should I do if it shows up again?”

“It won’t be able to get in, but if something happens and it does, my door will be unlocked. Lucille will be home. She can handle it.” She nodded. She was shaking, clearly afraid. I hugged her. “It’ll be okay,” I said. She nodded. “I have to go handle something else, and then I promise I’ll take care of this.”

“Okay.” I let her go, and walked towards her door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I left her apartment, and glanced at Alphus.

“Still think it can wait?” I asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Why didn’t your wards pick up on an Outsider?”

“No idea,” I said, and opened our apartment. The smell of incense and old candles wafted out, mingling with the smell of Mrs.K’s baked goods. I paused. There was nothing else. Normally static washed over my skin when I walked inside, a side effect of my wards. Alphus bumped into me.

“Why’d you stop?” he asked.

“They’re fucking gone,” I said.

“What?”

“My wards, they’re gone.” Alphus swore in a language I didn’t understand, shoved me behind him, and drew his handgun. “Lucille,” I called, “is everything okay?”

“Peachy,” she called.

“Boxers or briefs?” Alphus asked.

“Boxer-Briefs,” she said. “Crunchy or creamy?”

“I prefer Hazelnut Spread,” I said. Alphus put the gun away. Lucille stepped out of the kitchen. She was frowning. She wore jeans and a T-shirt, and a scar worked its way down the left side of her face, from just above her brow down to her throat.

“Why the interrogation?” she asked. Alphus and I stepped inside, and I closed the door.

“My wards are down,” I said. She blinked.

“How?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“I’m taking a look around outside,” Alphus said. “Stay here.”

“Okay,” I said. Alphus left, looking more nervous than I had seen him in a long time.

“What happened?” Lucille asked.

“A lot,” I said. “I’ll tell you over dinner. What are we having?”

“I’m making shrimp fried rice,” she said. I nodded. “Go sit down, I’ll bring you a bowl.” 

“Thanks,” I said, and sat down in the living room by the front door. Where Dora’s furniture was pristine, practically untouched, ours was scavenged from yard sales and thrift shops. Our futon had been patched with various different types of cloth, and Alphus’ big chair leaked stuffing from the various holes he hadn’t been able to patch yet. He didn’t let anyone else touch it. Our coffee table had been torn up by Lucille’s cat, Boomstick, and the surface was cratered with cup rings. We’d spent most of our furnishing budget on the TV, which took up a good chunk of the wall opposite the futon, and Lucille’s PlayStation sat under it, with a few scattered games. Boomstick joined me, and I scratched behind the large orange cat’s ears. He purred like an engine, and flopped over on my lap. He batted at my hands as I reached for the remote, flipping on some nature documentary. I heard Lucille start cooking, and closed my eyes. After a few minutes, she was nudging me, holding out a bowl.

“Eat up,” she said. I took the fried rice and put it down, and she walked to the kitchen, coming back with her bowl, and a beer for each of us. I tapped my beer to hers, and she took a long drink from it. She had dark skin, and as a lycanthrope, her features were just on the human side of the uncanny valley. “So what happened?” she finally asked.

“Well, I got a call around 10 AM from Seattle’s finest,” I said. “They had a body they wanted me to look at, and a ritual.” I took a bite of the fried rice. It was divine, the fattiness and saltiness being exactly what I needed. 

“Was it something real?” she asked.

“Oh yeah,” I said. “A little too real, actually,” I said. The door opened, and Alphus stepped in, closing the door behind him.

“Oh, sweet, fried rice,” he said, and walked to the kitchen.

“Find anything?” I asked him.

“No,” he said. “Footprints look like a feaster, but that doesn’t explain the wards.” He left the kitchen, and walked to his chair with a beer and his food. “Thanks for dinner, Lucille.”

“Of course,” she said. “So the scene was a bit too real?” she asked.

“Yeah. So I called the C.O.D in, met the replacements.”

“We knew you would at some point. Can’t leave the post empty.” I nodded in agreement.

“Yeah.” I took another bite. “So, after that fun scene, I head to Marcilla’s because she had something for me. Come to find out one of her guys was killed-”

“The packs didn’t-”

“Have anything to do with it, I know,” I said, and waved my hand at her. I thought back on the scene, and my stomach twisted as I remembered the Arcane pollution. The taste of blood. The way the energy was alive. That skittering. Thing. “I know,” I said again. 

“That bad?”

“Yeah,” Alphus and I said at the same time. I shook my head with disgust. “Then I come home and find my wards are dead, and there’s a feaster running around.” I finished my rice, and got up. “I need to go start my Steel-Soul and God’s Tears.” I put my bowl in the sink, and leaned against the hallway wall, looking at her.

“Are you heading out again tonight?” Lucille asked.

“Yeah,” I said, “I have to appease a revenant.” She clicked her tongue sympathetically. 

“Sounds like you have your hands full.”

“I do.” She met my eyes, thinking for a moment.

“You know, I can’t close the Third Gate for you,”

“I know.” I crossed my arms.

“The pack and I could hunt that feaster down for you, though.” I thought for a moment. She and the rest of her pack were shifters, unaffected by the phases of the moon, so they wouldn’t be weakened by it starting to wane. Additionally, I’d be too busy to handle it that night. Finally, and most importantly, I knew that whatever I said, she would go hunt it anyways.

“Sure,” I eventually said. “It’s not like it can infect you. Just be careful.” She nodded, and it was clear that I had passed some kind of test.

“I always am.” I chuckled as I turned away from her, and made my way to my work room. I put my hand on the door, and sent a pulse of energy through it. The door slid open, and I sighed with relief. The room was almost as large as my apartment on its own. I stepped in, and the door closed behind me. I was met with the hum of Arcane Energy, and I glanced around at the runes. The extradimensional space was holding, the place seemingly unaffected by whatever had disabled my wards. I let out a sigh, and took in the smell of the herbs I grew there. I had shaped the extradimensional void into a vague facsimile of an antique study, complete with a perpetually  roaring fireplace and heavy bookshelves. My summoning circle was untouched, which I took as another good sign. The easiest way for Outsiders to intrude on a Practitioner's home was through the summoning circle. The only permanent etching was the circle itself, and the protective hieroglyphs around it. It was at the end of the room, in front of the fireplace. A plush chair sat in the circle, a small olive branch I offered to anything I summoned. If I called you, I’d do my damndest to make sure you were comfortable. In the spaces between bookshelves and cabinets, I had placed planters, growing various herbs and mushrooms that I needed for alchemy. Small orbs of light hung above them. Along the center of the room was a series of six burners, each with a clean flask. In the middle was a well, which tapped into somewhere in the Beyond to conjure water within it. I got to work. I was out of powdered Drake Bone for the Steel-Soul, so I had to make do with just the God’s Tears. It had the unfortunate scent of rotten straw. While the potion was simmering, I visited my cabinet again, grabbing my bag, and loading it with Silver Powder, Crushed Quartz, Golden Thread, a vial of Fool Moon water, and my silver dagger. The dagger was a gift from my teacher, keeper Durello. It was a Pugio, the word Custos etched on the blade, as a statement of office. I left my athame behind. I wouldn’t need to open any gates. I grabbed the staff I had been working on. A focus isn’t necessary for working with the Arcane, but it helps, especially when you have to do it quickly and dirty. I tend not to use one unless necessary, because it draws attention. This one was specifically made of Ash Wood, to help ground and redirect hostile energies. I had worked three copper rings, the metal of the First Gate, around the bottom, etched with protective runes, to capture and hold energies. I had wrapped the staff in strips of Birch for further protection, simply burning “shield” into each strip in various languages. It was coming along well, but I still needed to affix a head to it. I wasn’t sure if I would go with a band, an orb, or an animal head. I put it aside once I had wrapped the eight strips around it, one for each Gate. I decided that I would have the head made of obsidian, as its connection to the void made it ideal to absorb energies. I put it back in the cabinet, and bottled the potion. God’s Tears was used to numb pain and raise resilience. I only made one bottle, as potions would be useless for Alphus, then cleaned up and left. By then, two hours had passed.

“Welcome back,” Alphus said from his room. It was a cluttered sort of den, with various weapons that he had collected over the centuries. “I grabbed my sword, and loaded up on silver bullets.”

“Here’s hoping we won’t need them,” I said. 

“I’ll drink to that.” He got up, and pulled a long coat over himself. “Lucille went out with the pack already. What do we do if Mrs.K needs to get in and get protected?” I sighed. I’d forgotten about that.

“We could ask Alex.” I sighed, and nodded.

“I’ll do it, yeah.” I walked over to the phone, and dialed for Alex. It rang twice, and he picked up.

“Heya Silv, wassup?” I heard Beethoven bark in the background, recognizable even over the phone.

“Are you at home?”

“Yeah man. What do you need?”

“Can you watch the house tonight? Something took my wards down-”

“Jello or Pudding?”

“Ice cream,” I said, trying to mask my irritation.

“Sorry man, can’t be too careful.”

“Yeah. Anyways, my wards are down, and Mrs.K saw a feaster around.”

“Yeah, heard about that.”

“Yeah. I’m heading out to deal with a revenant, and Lucille won’t be home, so,”

“You need someone there if shit hits the fan. Yeah man, I can watch Mrs.K for yah.”

“Thanks man.”

“‘Course, dude.” There was a pause. “Did you say a revenant?”

“Yeah, long story.”

“Fuck man, I’m just glad I’m not you. I’ll be over in a few.” He hung up. After a few minutes, I heard him knocking on the door. I opened it. He was wearing a tanktop and cargo shorts, with flip flops. His entire body was covered in scars, from his work as an independent hunter. He had Beethoven with him, the ragged Great Dane pouncing on Alphus, who started showering him with attention.

“Thanks for doing this last minute. Mrs.K knows you, so this should be fine.”

“Yeah dude.” He looked past me, at Alphus. “Guns are still in your room, yeah?”

“Yeah. I got a new sig.”

“Oh sick, what model?”

“I got the P229, loaded with .357. Silver, of course.”

“Nice, nice,” Alex looked around. “Where’s Boomstick?”

“Probably hiding from Beethoven,” I said. “Listen, Alphus and I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“If you don’t check in in two days, I’m assuming you’re dead.” I knew he wasn’t joking. 

“I understand.” Alphus and I headed out. I glanced up at the night sky. A thick band of storm clouds was rolling in. I sighed.

“That’s foreboding.”

[dropsofjupitcr]

Smoke and brimstone swirled in the dank pit of Benji's hellish realm as the summoning sigils flared into lurid crimson light around him. With an aggrieved snarl, he felt the inexorable pull of dark magic wrenching him from his lair, the world warping sickeningly until he crashed into physical form.

Suddenly he stood in the center of what appeared to be a cozy living room, chest heaving as he reoriented himself. Benji raised one wickedly clawed hand to rake back his unruly mane of sable locks, revealing a pair of curved obsidian horns amidst the disheveled strands. His bronzed skin seemed to flicker with contained infernal energy, and what should have been a pair of regular human legs instead tapered into powerful, cloven haunches ending in wicked talons.

"Blood and ashes," the demon growled, voice like brimstone grinding over hot coals. "This had better be worth the trouble of—" His baleful amber glare swung towards the source of the pitiful summoning and landed on...a toddler. A tiny, cherub-faced human child stood frozen before him in a garish pink onesie, mouth comically agape as it clutched a battered stuffed dinosaur to its chest with one pudgy fist.

"The fuck..." Benji's growl petered off into stunned bewilderment as the child blinked those saucer-wide, tear-filled eyes at him a few times before unleashing an earth-shattering wail. Panic surged in the demon's aura as he automatically shrank down into a crouch, glancing wildly around for the summoner responsible. "Hey! Where are you then, you daft piece of—"

Just then, a frazzled looking human female with wild, frizzy hair sprinted through the entryway, halfway into a disheveled business suit and wrestling with a laptop bag. Her head whipped around and her eyes bugged at the terrifying sight of the horned demon looming over her screeching toddler. "Oh my god!" she cried, actually starting to back away in fear before seeming to catch herself. "Wait—I didn't want to sacrifice, I just needed an emergency sitter!"

"I am not a gods-damned nursemaid!" Benji roared, flexing his talons in outrage as infernal energy simmered over his skin. But the shrieking child was only getting more hysterical. Without warning, a stray plush tentacle arced through the air to smack Benji square in his runic-carved cheekbone. The woman seized the momentary distraction to barrel forward, scooping up her child and shushing the flailing little one quickly before sitting him back down. "I'll be back by six, I swear! Just don't eat or sacrifice him, okay?" And just like that, the outer door slammed and they were alone. Benji let out an aggrieved demonic groan, scrubbing his claws over his face while wondering whose contract he needed to violate to escape this fiendish torment.

based.

[fxckin-blackbeard]

ᒥ🎸ᒧ—         "3548, fleece pajamas, and Cuthulu, got it, love..." He spent a few moments stroking Killian's hair while he drifted to a morphine induced sleep. One last kiss placed on Killian's head before he leaves to get the things. Thankfully he had the ode to get in, because he didn't have any keys. He knows he locked the door on his rush out, that he remembers.

Walking up to the home, he notices something wrong right off the bat. The door he remembered locking was left open some, that wasn't right. He walks up to it and hears voices inside. He knew those voices, too. Knew them all too well. "Ben? Felix? What the fuck?!" Edward busts in to find the place in the midst of being ransacked by two buddies of Jack. They were somewhat roughed up and bloody, and Edward knew in that moment upon seeing them what had happened.

A struggle begins, but it's the tall, burly Edward that comes out on top over lanky Felix and old man Ben. And of course, the stool from the island was helpful in his beating the men, but he thought to use it which made him the real winner. The alarm had gone off, and just as he finishes wiping his own bloody nose cops come in. He's thankful among them is a familiar face in the policemen that arrested Jack twice, because he has to explain exactly what happened with two unconscious, beaten and bloodied men on the floor. The process takes hours, getting the information for all the reports was important, and new evidence for Killian's case was gathered.

After all that, he gathers the things he promised Killian. He'd be coming back in the following night to clean up the place for Killian's release from hospital. Until then, he leaves it as is. Decidedly, he would not be telling Killian the full story. He had healing up to worry about first.

He returns to the hospital room, placing down a duffle with all the items he promised. Thankfully Edward had shown up just after the two men got there. They only got to fuck up the living room and dinning room, Killian's bedroom was untouched. He looks a bit frazzled, hair frizzy and wild, dried blood on his upper lip, and an exhausted look in brown eyes. What a day it had been, he felt the urge to relax the best he knew how, but he shoved it aside to focus on Killian. "Killy?" He questions, looking over to the bed to see if the other was awake. It had been many hours since he left when Killian fell asleep.

His breathing calmed and he nodded slightly as Edward promised to be here for him and help him through this. When his things were brought up Killian frowned. "Could you find out what happened to my stuff I had on me? They must've atleast found my wallet if they knew where to find you, but my phone and house keys... If whoever attacked me took them..." Killian said with new worries bubbling up. If this was Jack's doing he was worried that his house might be trashed next.

"I'll be alright for awhile. Make sure my home is okay for me please? The security system code is 3548 to arm or disarm..." Killian took a deep breath feeling the drugs ready to knock him back out. "Bring me the cuddly pajamas, the soft fleece ones... maybe Cthulhu squish... mallow..." the influencer couldn't fight the drugs any longer and fell back asleep.

[wroteclassicaly]

we've never really spoken before but hi! for the november prompts, maybe cozy with eddie? <3

AH, hello, hi! Let me just fangirl for a moment, because I have absolutely loved your work for some time now 💘

Thanks for sending this in! We love some cozy time with our boy! ^_^

Warnings: Just some mild language and fluff!

Prompt is from here

“Eddie?” No response, despite the many octaves you’ve used in the past five minutes to get your boyfriend’s attentions. “Eddie?”

A rumbled sigh comes from the frizzy haired, frazzled man beside you, his knuckles rasping harshly against the dashboard, sending dust particles off and into the expanse of the front seat. You wave your hand through, resting a gentle pressured squeeze to his leather clad shoulder. His jacket crunches beneath a folded movement of his now bent arm. He sounds defeated when he speaks. “It’s not working…”

“Baby, it’s okay. This entire van is a steam boat anyways. One that you should probably clean.” You reach out and wipe a finger through a layer of that dusty sheen, spelling out the simple word of Hi, which makes Eddie snort. He lifts his own hand back to the surface, scribbling in his message, waiting until he’s sure you’ve read it before he reclines in his seat, the washed out crimson fabric bunched around the buckle of his bullet belt.

You’re chuckling aloud as you give his wording an internal read through. If it smells in here, that’s your fault. You give him a mock incredulous look, then you both burst into simultaneous grins. Roasting one another is a high point in your relationship, one dynamic that you never want to change. Your partner shakes his curly head and beckons under the crook of his arm, that Old Spice still fresh on his skin.

All too happy to oblige, you take your rightful place at Eddie’s side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and his ring clad hand immediately beginning a rhythmic kneading of your shoulder. You peer up at him, poking his slightly bearded jaw. He hasn’t shaved in two weeks and you aren’t minding it. He catches your wrist with his other hand, calloused fingertips stroking along the bone. “Need to shave it, don’t I? Feels like a damn cactus.”

You disagree, nuzzling into his neck, lips kissing into a featherlight press on the overgrown hair that’s splattered across his jawline. “I actually love it, Eds. S’ not even remotely cactus like, either.”

You’re interrupted at the sudden down pour of Autumn’s angry storm, shattering its thunderous beats across the roof of Eddie’s van and littering the crystal windshield beyond visibility. His brow pinches into a frown. “I really needed to have gotten this shitty heater fixed. Now you’re gonna freeze to death before I get you home.”

You’ve got Eddie and the rain, what could be better? You shake your head and cup his chin, bringing him down to nuzzle his nose. “I’m perfectly cozy without it.”