#seems like a comfy enough spot for em

[delightfuldevin]

Rotomdex you are my friend,, I lov u Rotomdex,,,

[karlachismylife]

Johnny's dead on the ground.

Correction: Johnny's dying on the ground. Time warps and stretches out, his last seconds dragging for ages long enough for galaxies to be born and die in blindingly white sparkles before his wide open eyes. His limbs grow cold and stiff, akin to pork legs hanging down in smelly rows inside a butcher's freezer - meat that went through a slaughterhouse, his temple stil throbbing after a bolt gun aimed at the fine cattle.

Slaughtered in a blink of an eye, no higher aim or meaning. Simple as that, just a young lamb down.

It burns, this spot, fevereshly hot, something steamy and moist leaking down his cheek and jawline. Feels like a branding iron stuck to his skin, warmth spreading around it through otherwise cooling off body. White pain so bad that hot and cold start to mix up, creating a stagnant, sickly burial shroud of warmth around him - it hovers, but doesn't touch him.

Leaves him without his last consolation.

His chest is compressed, barely able to move for another wheezing breath. A considerable weight pressing down on him, preventing from filling his lungs properly for what may be his last time - steel hoops stacked flush to each other tighten around his ribs. The fire that was burning through his temple finally eats through his flesh to his eyes.

His lashes flutter and he loses sight, stinging white finally replaced with a comfortable black.

Johnny's dead on the ground.

The weight on top of him shifts, relieving some of itself from his chest, and a blow of cool air hits the damp side of his face that was branded by that scorching heat, immediately making his skin prickle. Uncomfortable, Soap scrunches his nose and unwillingly opens his eyes.

There are two yellow feline eyes staring right back at him in front of his mug, and the moment they spot him move, a Cheshire cat smile spreads on the handsome face above, sharp fangs flashing. Something whips at his freezing knee.

"Hey, soldier," coos Karlach in a hushed tone, brushing the tip of her nose along his. "Got ya, eh? You're dead."

"Aye. KIA, bonnie. Ye'll havtae tell mah Mam."

With a sigh, now that the whole mass of a beefy tiefling isn't crushing his ribs, Soap wipes the temple she kissed and left the wetness of her breath on, and drops his wide spread arms in a dramatic gesture - or preparation to make a snow angel. The legs will probably be all fucked up after he got ambushed by Karlach and tumbled into the thick winter crystal blanket with her in a wrestling embrace.

"You'll tell her yourself. Come on, get up, it's your turn!" Karlach snorts, wrinkling her nose in an adorable snicker, and Johnny blinks at her as she rises to her feet with a grunt. There are rogue snowflakes stuck to his eyelashes, and they fracture the light in a way that creates a holy rainbow halo around her devilish horns.

"Hm... nae, Ah'm comfy 'ere." He grins and immediately gets rammed into his side, rolling over with a pained "oomf!" - the push Karlach gives him is softened by the thick winter attire, so Johnny needs to play up the ache. "Och! Did na yin teach ye nae tae kick who's already doon?"

"Get yer arse up, Johnny. Don't want ya freezing yer bollocks off, eh? Gonna need 'em later." Snow seems to forget it's crunchy and squeaky under heavy boots when it's Ghost walking up to them. Before Simon can scruff him, Johnny's already up and shaking wet white chunks off his ass with a huge grin plastered on his face.

"I'm not waiting for you, mate. You're it!" - is all they hear before Karlach turns into a bright red smudge on a snowy slope, her heavy footsteps sinking into the pliant cover on the ground.

"Well?" Simon raises an eyebrow and nods in the direction of the fleeing tiefling. "Your bird's flyin' away."

Good thing he's almost finished with his ciggy, because in the glossy blue eyes Johnny squints against the reflective brightness of the snow reads clear as day - Ghost is getting tagged next.

[icannotpickanamewtf]

The Day The Music Died (Part Two)

(PART ONE)

Possessive!Spot x femSpider!Reader & Possessive!Miguel x femSpider!Reader

Summary: Spot looks for you + you are not up for chatting. Things happen. Shit goes down.

Warnings: Cursing/Sexual themes. Angst. Dark!Spot. Maladaptive behavior.

From that day on, your very first customer, was guess who?

The fucking weirdo.

Every morning he’d come in and pull the same shit. 

Saying to open the register, the he was going to rob you, that he was going to hurt you, blah blah blah.

You honestly could not find it funnier. 

But he had a little complex about your teasing, so just to ensure the safety of the Parkers, you kept it down to a minimum. 

Which wasn’t that helpful.

Part of you even looked forward to his little dramatic entry, he reminded you of a puppy. 

It was a morning like any other, Peter in the back, Mr. Parker in his office, and you dealing with an inter dimensional supervillain that seemed hellbent on terrorizing you. 

This time, you felt a bit more generous with others so you kept your snark under control a little. You loved the fall weather that broke out in New York during September. Especially that you could dress in comfy long-sleeved sweaters. Man-made heat was the fucking dream.

“Why can’t you just let me rob you!” Spot seemed to rely on whining a lot more nowadays. 

“‘Cause that’s not as fun.” You always had a straight face and harsh tone, and you could tell that Spot had adapted to your absence of emotion. 

“Please! Please, just let me rob you this once!” 

You stayed silent as you looked at him in a daze. Spot’s confidence seemed to have increased as he got much <em>much</em> closer to you over the time he decided to target your little shop. 

Now he towered over you as he leaned over the counter. 

Was it bad that you kinda liked his height?

His weirdness was definitely rubbing off on you. 

But it made you feel something at the very least.

“Coffee? Yes or No.”

You had never bothered to ask with his constant banter, but like you said earlier, you were feeling generous. 

Spot seemed a bit flustered at your question and stuttered a bit before finally finding his words again. 

“Oh–Oh! Yes! Absolutely yes! I used to love coffee, more than tea really…Well…the thing is…I–I guess I liked it with two creams and one sugar? Four shots of espresso. Whipped cream too.” He leaned over the display as you turned your back to him to make a coffee. 

“Are you–Are you making me coffee?”

You only gave a soft noise before continuing on with your work. Soon enough, you held his exact order in your hand. 

“Shut up, please.” You thrusted the coffee into his hand, letting him wrap his hands around your right hand that held his coffee. 

Spots large palms engulfed yours completely, but for real. Like you literally could not see a bare centimeter of your hand underneath his. 

He seemed to notice with how he lingered with both of his hands onto of yours. You could even say he seemed enraptured and pleased with this new found discovery. 

“I can’t move my hand. Let go.” You were still as straightforward as always.

If he had a face, you would bet it would definitely be blushing. 

“My bad! Sorry..uh…was thinking about–villain things.” He was totally lying. 

“Yeah. Sure.” 

Spot still seemed out of his element. “Hey…I don’t have any money I can’t–“ 

“I wasn’t expecting you to pay. Don’t.” You couldn’t care less. Really. 

“Oh. Oh, thanks.” Spot relaxed and took a sip of his coffee, 

or more like poured it into his face hole. 

He made a moan to indicate how good it tasted. 

That--was…uhm…a surprise. 

Spot didn’t even realize the effect or what that noise sounded like and just kept telling you thank you between sips of coffee. 

“Don’t drink too fast. You’ll get sick to your stomach.” You weren’t worried, but you didn’t want to have to deal with radioactive–or whatever the fuck he was made out of–throw up on the floor. 

He nodded shyly as he slowed down to enjoy his coffee more. 

“Seriously…thank you. This–This is the first time anyone has…” Spot trailed off as he whispered thanks <em>again.</em>

You knew what he was going to say, so you didn’t let him finish. 

“Ok.” That was enough talking and being open for today. 

“I’m sorry for trying to rob you all this time. Would you–Do you…Do you maybe want to–“ 

Nope. Nope, you were not going to do this. You were feeling generous and this is what you get. Of–fucking–course. 

The bell chimed behind him, causing him to freeze mid sentence. 

Thank god for that annoying door for once. 

“Bye.” 

“Well! Wait–I was thinking–“ 

You literally just stepped back and pretended to check on Peter in the kitchen. You did not want to deal with--with whatever this was.

When you peaked over to see if Spot was still there, you only saw the new customer examining the muffins that lined up behind the glass. 

Walking back out, you looked at the countertop and saw a tiny folded up napkin. A note.

Nope. Nope.

You threw it out before you could think twice. 

–––––––––

The next day, when you groggily woke up from your totally amazing sleep last night--

about three hours at best,

you immediately noticed the heatwave that dripped through your body followed by an unreasonable amount of exhaustion. 

Oh, a breakdown and a cold. 

Yay.

You groaned as you rolled off the safety of your bed and picked up your phone. You called Mr. Parker. 

Mr. Parker said your name softly over the phone as you grunted out a brief hello and a quick explanation to why you weren’t coming into work, saying you were on your period. 

These…lapses…always made you more snappy and sad. Way too sad to deal with customer service.

So, you would prefer to keep your sanity and lock up inside. 

Mr. Parker was more than understanding and you could hear him shouting for Peter to man the counter for the day while he offered to work in the kitchen.   

You ended the call before he could even say goodbye and flopped back into your bed. You forgot all about Spot when your head hit the pillow and the soft fabric of your silk pajama top chilled your scalding heat.  

—————-

Spot walked into Collin’s Coffee. This time, he was going to ask her. Nothing could stop him. Hell, he was a supervillain.

What if she was secretly horrified with how he looked and just didn’t tell him?

No! She was obviously fine with that. She didn’t even flinch when he attempted to rob her for the first time a few months ago. 

Should he be concerned about that?

Too late, since he was already turning the familiar knob to enter the whimsical shop. Spot had to duck in order to fit through the door due to his height. His distorted size was one of his big stand-out features.

Your hand beneath his, covered by the pale expanse of his skin. Clutched around a coffee made for him. He could feel your small knuckles and rough callouses from being burnt from coffee machines. They were soft, natural. They felt perfect in his.

Spot looked up and almost immediately threw out his same old greeting. Expecting to see your dead-faced glare. 

Your lips looked soft, plump. He wondered what it would feel like to touch them. What it would feel like to have them on him. You always were honest and spoke to the point. What did you look like flustered? Would you shake under him? Would you hold him? Would you--

You weren’t there. 

Some kid with brown hair stood in your spot, eyes wide and jaw unhinged as he stared at Spot. 

What?

“Who are you?–“

“What are you?–“ They both said at the same time. 

It was the echoing silence that followed that left pinpricks in his skin(?). Where were you? 

“Where is she?” Spot asked after a few moments of awkward staring. 

“Are you talking about–“

Spot was starting to panic. Who was this kid? Where were you?

“Yes. Where is she.” Static started to seep into his voice and boom throughout the tiny coffee shop. 

“Woah! She’s–She’s at home!” The boy clutched the counter as waves of energy swamped him. 

“Write down her address, please.” Did that sound creepy? Maybe…but Spot needed to know that you were okay. 

You were the only normal, constant, thing in his life left. This was completely reasonable.

“What? No! You–“ The boy, or his name tag said Peter, began to object.

”Now. Address.” Spot started to leer over Peter, intimidating him with the pure strength he held behind his voice. 

Peter hastily scribbled down your house number and handed it over with shaky palms. Spot just took it from him and used a portal to travel to the door of your apartment. 

Hopefully you were alright. 

He could take care of you if you weren’t. 

This was him caring after his…well…his….

You never told him what you guys were. 

Friend?

Yeah. Friends. Like a partner in crime. 

———————

A few knocks racked your wooden door, causing you to wake up for the second time that day. 

You were not in the mood to walk the whole six feet to the front door. So you didn’t.

“–Hello? I’m coming in!” 

Was that…was that Spot?

Before you could even stop him, a black dot appeared in front of your bed and out came Spot. 

“Oh! There you are! You weren’t at work so I–“

Your pajamas consisted of a baby blue silk short-sleeved Macy’s pajama top and skimpy white lace panties that were decorated with Lillies of the valley. 

You weren’t even wearing a fucking bra. 

“Spot. I’m on my period. Relax and shut up. Leave.” You were too exhausted to even question how he knew your address.

“But do you need anything? I could–“

“I am half naked.”

This seemed to snap Spot out of his 'nanny mode' and into his 'flustered grown man mode.' But he didn’t even have the audacity to pretend to look away. 

“Oh! Oh…my bad, sorry. Yep--very sorry.” After looking at you for a bit too long of a time after you admitted your current state, he turned his whole body away from you. 

“Get out of my house. Bye.” Sure, it was a little meaner than you intended, but you genuinely were starting to get a headache. 

“No.”

“What?” You were stunned. 

What did he just say? 

Spot the blushing virgin, 

Spot the failed robber, 

the same Spot that wrung his hands together when you tease him said–

 no?

“I said no.”

Huh. So he grew some balls. But just not at the right fucking time.

“Did you not hear me. I said get the fuck out.” You allowed yourself to be a little more mean. You were starting to get annoyed. 

“You're annoying me. Leave.” 

“No. You are sick. I can take care of you. Just–“ Spot tried to reason with you, even approaching the bed that you laid on. 

“Come near me and I’ll sock you in the face.” You were done being nice. You hated being 'sick.' 

You especially hated it when others saw you 'sick.' 

You were vulnerable when you were 'sick.'

Spot wasn't having it. “Just let me help. I can get you some soup–like chicken noodle or something?”

Shut up.

“I’m vegetarian.”

Please just leave me alone.

“Then vegetable soup! I can steal some soup from the–“

Shut up.

“Don’t.”

Shut. The fuck. Up. 

“It’ll be super easy, I can just teleport–“

“Shut up. Please.” You were so confused. Why was he so adamant on this?

“Just go home.” You flipped so you no longer faced him and closed your eyes. Ignoring the problem always made it go away. 

It was silent.

Fucking finally. 

But weirdly enough, when the echo of silence fell over your room like a weighted blanket, it felt like a stone landed in your gut. 

You felt…guilty. 

Taglist: @arachnagirl--spidergirl

[tracybirds]

I know I said this yesterday but it's beginning to feel like Christmas for real with my Sydney family having arrived! I was SO happy to see them last night and we're hanging out all day today and I haven't seen them since before covid so this is the most special thing!! Thank you to @gumnut-logic for reading through the first part of it, although I must admit to running wild this morning with the last part so any weirdness there you can blame squarely on me haha &lt;3

[Day 1] | [Day 2] | [Day 3 - you are here]

Five Days Where Christmas Didn't Seem To Go As Planned

Day Three

Gordon shoved Alan’s shoulder roughly as he walked past, causing Alan to yelp as he overbalanced, nearly falling out of the chair.

“Gordon, play nicely,” said Virgil, frowning.

Typically, Gordon ignored him, tapping his brother’s cheek.

Alan groaned. It had been a long night, called out in the early evening only to return home as the sun peeked over the horizon once more.

“It’s comfy here,” he muttered, turning to nestle his cheek into the curved edge of the chair.

“Yeah, sure bud,” said Gordon, rolling his eyes. “Come on, let’s go Al, those showers have our names on ‘em.”

Virgil yawned.

“I can carry you if you like,” he offered, perfectly earnest.

Alan’s eyes flew open. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he grumbled. “Kayo laughed at me for a week the last time, don’t you dare pick me up.”

He dragged himself across the cockpit, staring blankly into thin air in a daze. Preoccupied with the thought of a hot shower and a morning nap with the sea breeze flowing through with windows, he hardly noticed the figure waiting for them impatiently as the hydraulic lift lowered them into the hangar.

“Scott?” asked Virgil, and Alan snapped back to attention. He’d expected Scott to vanish long before Two made it back to Tracy Island, with no issues that arose during the mission and debrief scheduled for later that day.

Freshly focused, Alan could tell that something wasn’t right, enough that Scott had waited for them and was now speaking urgently to them all. Alan blinked, trying to shape the sounds into words, and it was only when he yawned widely and his ear popped that things fell into place.

“I just needed to head you off before you head upstairs,” said Scott, looking mildly disgusted. “I got out of the elevator and had to come straight back down, it was only luck that she didn’t spot me.”

“Well, we’re all experts in hiding from Grandma and her baking now,” said Gordon, grinning. “Hey Virg, let’s go crash in Brains’ rooms, he’s been wanting to marathon those old school scifi-horrors.” He wriggled his fingers at Virgil. “Oooh, I’m a space alien here to take over your mind. Go forth, do my laundry for a week.”

“He’ll uninvite you if you’re going to be annoying about it,” said Virgil, with a long-suffering sigh. “Thanks for the warning, Scott. We’ll stay low for a few hours.”

Alan, meanwhile, was thinking hard.

He swayed a little, fighting the temptation to close his eyes, searching every scrap of memory, because something about what Scott was describing sounded uncomfortably close to home.

“Grandma’s been baking?”

Scott and Virgil exchanged a glance.

“Keep up, Al,” said Gordon impatiently.

Only Alan had one piece of information that his brothers didn’t.

When the siren had gone off and they’d gathered in the living room, Alan had been baking cookies for Christmas. He’d meant for it to be a surprise.

And he’d turned the oven off, he was sure of it, even through a distorted haze of exhaustion, he could remember the temperature dial spinning under his fingers before he raced upstairs, but maybe it hadn’t gone all the way and even as they’d flown out, his cookies were slowly starting to brown, then blacken into a crisp.

He could have burnt the house down.

He sat down suddenly, right there on the floor.

“Alan!” cried three voices, and he batted them away.

“You’ve gone white as a sheet,” said Virgil, frowning as he crouched next to him. He reached out a hand, feeling for his forehead and Alan rolled his eyes.

“Get off me, I’m just tired,” he said, feeling slightly sick. He couldn’t let them find out, he needed to get out of here.

“Look, Grandma won’t ambush me like this, she’ll just want me in bed. Which is where I want to be too, so if you guys want to hide away instead, be my guest.”

He wasn’t even lying, and he rubbed at the grit forming in his eyes, allowing a yawn to take over his entire body.

“I’ll take you,” said Scott reluctantly, and Alan felt a twinge of irritation twitching below his eye.

“You don’t need to escort me,” he snapped, getting back to his feet. “I can manage it.”

He scowled at each of them, putting as much fierceness into the glare as he could.

For a second, he thought Scott and Virgil would continue to argue, but Gordon leapt in before they had the chance.

“You guys promised you’d treat him like an adult when he’s wearing the uniform,” he reminded them. “Are either of you going to start volunteering to be supervised in the shower and tucked in tight? I’ll do it, I don’t care.”

 Alan shot Gordon a grateful look.

“I’m going to bed then,” said Alan, and he spun on his heel and walked slowly and calmly towards the elevator door.

That is to say, he bolted.

When the doors next opened, Alan found Scott hadn’t been kidding about the smell, the smoke still evident despite the air being cleared.

He ran down the steps two at a time, holding his breath as he skidded into the kitchen.

Kayo looked up from the magazine she’d been reading and put it aside.

“So,” she said. “These are yours. I’m assuming they’re not chocolate.”

She swung around a plate of dark brown cookies, burnt black where the butter had melted onto the tray while baking.

Alan collapsed onto the barstool next to her.

“Is it bad?”

Kayo shrugged. “They’re just burnt. Nothing major.” She grinned, her eyes sharp and mischievous. “I saw Scott making his escape earlier. Did he come down to warn you all away?”

Alan could only nod miserably.

“Do you think it’s genetic?” he asked. “I just wanted to do something nice.”

“The only thing you did wrong was not pull the tray from the oven when you turned it off,” Kayo said cheerfully. She chose one of the cookies and neatly broke it in half. “See? They’re not burnt burnt, they’re just a tad overdone. I spotted them when Grandma was preheating the oven earlier and rescued them for you.”

Alan lifted his head, hope stirring in his chest. “So, the smoke?”

“Oh, that was all Grandma.” She bit into the end of the cookie and pulled a face. “These aren’t that great either, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, thanks,” said Alan, feeling stung. He yawned. “I suppose we should just chuck them then.”

“We can probably save them for something,” said Kayo. “Make them into ornaments or something.”

She jostled his shoulder. “What’s up though, Al? You didn’t come racing up here because of bad biscuits.”

“I kinda did,” said Alan. “I dunno, I thought maybe a fire had started. Like if something went wrong here, it’d be all my fault.” He yawned again. “I guess that seems silly.”

Kayo slung an arm around him, pulling him into a hug.

“We can handle your mistakes, Alan. Best part of being one of the youngest is everyone else has already made them and they’ll help you out. It’s not all on you.”

“Does that mean the others have all nearly burnt the house down?”

She grinned down at him. “Oh, the stories I could tell if I weren’t sworn to secrecy.”

Alan grinned back, a spark of mischief shaking off the bleariness momentarily. “I can keep a secret. Was it Virgil? John?”

“You’re getting nothing out of me,” said Kayo with a laugh. “Go to bed, Alan. We’ll fix these when you can sit in that chair without falling onto your face.”

He slipped down from the stool and stumbled, the sway of exhaustion rushing up to meet him once more.

“I might need a little help,” he admitted. “Promise you won’t tell Scott?”

Kayo mimed locking her lips and smiled at him, fond and warm.

“I promise.”

[casspurrjoybell-24]

The Alpha's Beta - Chapter 8 - Part 1

BOOK ONE: The Alpha's Trilogy

*Warning - Adult Content*

Cold Coffee

Alpha Silas Claymore

It had been a week since Simon's keys were stolen and everything was going well though.

All the locks on the front gate and in the offices were changed.

Our camera systems was updated and surveillance cameras were placed on the front and back of every home.   

To my surprise, Simon already had a security camera set up but it hadn't been activated yet.

Ellis had men on every street and still had enough to scout the territory.

Tyler found no leads to who was in the house but we were sure they were now gone, seeing's they had no where to hide.

Darren spent most of his days either in his office of on the second floor in the surveillance room looking over tapes.

It was nice to see him actually working and not just being a grouch.

He'd been the one to suggest the cameras on houses after we couldn't get a lead on who went into Simon's house, seeing's the two building that did have cameras near by didn't get anything strange, other then a couple, walking there baby.   

Lucca had been on night-guard for the front gate, spending his days in bed so he could be all night on high alert.

Around six in the morning, he'd stop by Simon's, with coffee for the both of us and then had gone back to his place to sleep.   

Simon refused to let me leave, he didn't want to stay in his house but he would not stay at my house or a hotel.

He was torn between feeling unsafe in his home and being paranoid to leave it.   

I didn't mind though, I spent most of my day with him, only leaving to go to the office for a few hours before coming back and when I was gone Ellis had volunteered to keep an eye on him.

So needless to say, things where going smoothly at Autumn Falls.   

I had just walked into the office building with a try of coffee and teas.

Going to the elevator and going to the second floor.

It looked a lot like the third floor with my office but where the third floor was covered in doors.

The second floor only had one.

Going over to the only door I unlocked it with the new master key 'that would be the only copy and stayed with me at all times and walked into the dark room.

Quinton sat at the far end with his thick glasses hanging off his nose, looking intently at the screen of one of his computers.

He's light brown hair fell over his face but he didn't seem to notice with his brown eyes skimming words at a mile a minute.   

Next to him sat Darcy, a good hundred years older then Quinton and myself, she was the veteran IT of the pack, as soon as computers came to the pack she moved into this room, along with Quinton a few years later.

Her black graying hair was pulled back into a messy bun while her fingers clicked wildly on the key board in front of her.  

"A large earl gray with four sugar and extra sugar on the side for Quinton and a medium steeped tea for Darcy, one sugar and two cream," I said setting the two teas between them.

"Where's Darren? I brought his coffee."   

"Haven't seen em' could still be asleep. Went to a club last night. Said not to wait up for him," Quinton said, he's eyes never leaving the screen.

I rolled my eyes, trying to push away the feeling in my chest.

I could only guess it was annoyance.

I set his drink on the near by desk that he normally sat at, before taking out my frozen hot chocolate from the drink holder and sat in the chair in front of his desk.   

It was a comfy spot, the chair was cushioned all over and had black leather over it.

Darren's two computers where switched onto sleep.

I moved the mouse to the one on my right and watched as the dim screen lit up, showing me at least twenty different camera angles of some of the roads in the territory.   

I could see Ellis sitting on the step outside of Simon's house doing something on his cell-phone and Jeremy tending to the garden in his backyard.   

I was about to put the computer back on sleep when I noticed movement on the screen.

I looked towards the small square on the screen and raised an eyebrow as Lucca locked his front door and jogged down the side path of his house, right into the woods.   

I glanced down at my watch before looking back at the screen.    

It's only 10:30 a.m. he shouldn't be awake right now.

The man normally slept tell three in the afternoon.   

"Hey Darcy," I called out making the older woman slightly raise her head to me.

"Have you noticed Lucca leaving his house a lot during the day?"   

She shrugged.

"Sorry Silas. I haven't been watching those cameras. It's usually Darren. You'll have to wait for him to drop by and ask."  

And that I did, for almost three hours.   

Lucca and been gone and back spending close to an hour in the woods before finally coming out looking the same as he went in.   

I tried calling his cell-phone but he hadn't picked up.

Which led me to believe he went back to sleep.   

The room went from calm and peaceful to stale and dark when Darren walked in.

I didn't even have to look up from where I was to know he was there.

He just gave off the energy that made everyone want to cower away from him.   

I was no longer sitting in his chair, as I now sat next to Quinton looking over his shoulder at some video tapes from last night.

Darren walked in without a word, sat down, adjusted his chair and touched the each computers mouse, lighting up both screens.

He wore a black muscle T-shirt with faded blue jeans.

I could smell another person's scent on him.

He had his musky-woody scent to him but he also had a sweet-cameral scent to him that I knew belonged to another.

My jaw clenched and I had to fight down the feeling that rose in my chest.

I watched as he brought his thump to his lip, watching something on the screen in front of him.   

"Is there something you wanna say to me or are you just going to keep staring, like a creep?" Darren said, he's eyes not leaving the screen.   

I gritted my teeth together, trying to keep from saying something that would make Darcy and Quinton uncomfortable or start a fight between us.

Goddess knows we've been close to ripping each others throats out though.   

"You've been watching the cameras on Hiltman Drive right?" I ask, trying to refrain from bring up Lucca, knowing Darren didn't trust him already.   

"I've been keeping my eye on it, why? Is this about your little boyfriend's runs into the woods?"

Well, so much for that.   

I cleared my throat, to aware of Darcy's eyes on me now.

"So Lucca's gone off often?"  

"Nope. Just once. Well twice now I see. Getting suspicious are we?"

Darren raised he's brow and smirked at me.

That little smirk had me ready to jump out of my chair and jump on him but I couldn't tell what I wanted to do with him when I got there.

"I'm sure he's just having trouble sleeping and needed some air," I replied at I got up from the chair and patted Quinton's shoulder.

"I'll see you guys later."   

I walked to the door just about ready to open it when Darren called out to me.

"Hey, Alpha. My coffee's cold."

With that I reminded myself to be a civil adult and walked out.

'Oh fuck it.'   

I turned around and walked back into the office.

I picked the coffee cup off of his desk and took the lid off.  

"What are you..." Darren's words were cut off by me pouring the cold coffee over his head.

I watched as the black liquid ran down his face, over his nose, into his lap.

He's mouth agape and he's gray eyes widening.

"Hey, Beta. Next time get your own damn coffee," and with that I left.

I had to supress a chuckle as I heard Darren growl from inside the room.

Soon, I was on my way back to Simon's house but not before stopping at Lucca's.

[sanguine-salvation]

They perked up and blinked at Em when they answered when they weren’t expecting anything. They supposed… they did get something from the spider, a gift of perspective maybe. And that crack of sadness aching through Em’s smile caught their eyes. A splintering fracture in that crushing happiness, but at the same time… they still couldn’t see what would leak out eventually. It wasn’t there yet, their Emptiness was so strange, so… different. It almost felt older and younger at the same time, pristine and fragmented…

They watched as Em made themself comfy in their old spot again, and slowly cocked their head. “Hope is a pretty thing, isn’t it. But it slips between your fingers when you try to hold it too hard. Learned that the hard way. It’s much better to… let go. Know that freedom can be an empty thing…” They smile wistfully at their hands, gesturing a little like they were letting something go. “But memories, I suppose, well, we all have those. Whether we like it or not.”

They slowly stood from where they were crouching at the spider’s web, thought they looked at the dainty shimmers of orange artificial light that bounced back at them from it for just a little while longer. Strange, they’d been gone for a little while, out on their own. Hadn’t spoken to anyone much in a few weeks, the action felt so strange now when it was a normal conversation about spiders and hope…

They looked back at Em, narrowed their eyes, then with an almost abrupt swiftness, they flopped down next to them without asking if the spot was free or company was wanted. They also didn’t really answer if they were indeed going to be ‘around’ so long-term, but they certainly made no effort to distance themself again. They actually took a long while to speak again at all, and when they did, they almost seemed to do it without thought. “Mothers know things. Mine worried that I didn’t ask for help enough.” They laughed, but it was quiet and breathy. “Maybe yours is right. Maybe in her absence, your little nightmare was trying to remind you not to get lost.”

Em’s eyes softened as Viktor told their story about their garden spider friend. Why they had to have guards, that was strange, but it wasn’t part of the story. Not really. They were just people who didn’t understand bugs.

“She’s apart of your memory though. She gave you something, while she was there.”

Em’s smile was a bit sad. Did they give anyone good memories when they were alive? They hoped so. They didn’t want to be the source of any bad memories.

“I don’t think you’re really wrong. But you just… sound so hopeless about it.”

Em decided to plop down back in their little spot they were sitting when their nightmare jerked them ‘awake’. “I guess that’s okay though. My mother said I was almost too positive about things. So having someone like you around’s probably good for me, haha!”

[t4rt4gl14]

✿・PUSSY MAKES THE WORLD GO ‘ROUND !!!

⌘ [ fem!reader ]. fingering ( receiving ). pussydrunk!childe/heizou. edging/overstimulation. toys e.g vibrators. semi public. hair pulling. spanking. praise/degradation. squirting. possessive. [ COLLAB WITH @beelenciaga <33 ]

☑︎ 𐄇𐄇 dark content ahead. 18+ only ♡ 𐄇𐄇

⌘ childe & heizou.

✖︎・CHILDE.

he’s generally obsessed with your sloppy cunt, pushing you onto the bed and not even having the patience to take your panties off diligently— instead he just rips em off, rubbing your sweet clit whilst admiring your wet pussy, practically drooling at the sight of it. sure he wants to shove his cock inside but god does he wanna get a taste first. his tongue licking over your hole and up to your clit. sucking on it before releasing it with a ‘pop’, giving a quick kiss. “mm im gonna have so much fun with you babe”, a deep chuckle escapes from his throat as he wields an iron grip on your thighs. he’s intent on eating you out until you claw at his shoulders, roll your eyes back and just until you break.

fingers gushing in n out of your pussy. the squelching resonates into the crispy night air— the cool air from the open window assisting you to avoid overheating. it all felt so good! “a-ajax! mmn-m!~ please m-m’gonna cum”, and he’s so hyped for your juices to spill into his mouth, “yes baby that’s it, cum mhm good girl let it all out for me!~”. his pleading is the turn that causes you to lose yourself in bliss and pleasure, however he doesn’t seem to stop— pushing up to your sweet spot, prodding the tip of his fingers into the one nerve that had your back arch and squeeze your thighs between his head. childe knew he was going a good job but he never expected you to squirt. his cock straining in his pants. your slick dripping off his chin just as he swallows all of your cum. and when he was finished licking you clean, “oh woah. mm fuck that was hot. do it again!!~”, childe asks with a huge grin on his face, grinding the bundle nerves in figure 8’s.

“ tapping out already? awww cmon, don’t be a partypooper, just one more!!~ “

✖︎・HEIZOU.

shikanoin heizou. one of the greatest detectives but also one of the greatest teasers i mean seriously how long is he going to keep up with this joke of his?? he’s got your legs spread open whilst you sit on the comfy chair in his private office. honestly seeing him on knees is quite the view but what was worse was the fact he has not let you cum at all and it’s been 40 minutes! the pain is just searing- your clit is aching and you’ve never yearned for release so much!! “h-heizou p-please i can’t u-unghhh i can’t!! wanna cum!! mmmg!~”, your pleads fell on deaf and ignorant ears. “awww this cute cunt slutting out just for me?? i can’t let you cum baby i need to taste more!~”.

three fingers shoved deep inside your cunt, thrusting rapidly yet teasingly grinding inside of you when you’re so close to cumming. he constantly promises you that if you keep holding your orgasm, when you actually release it’ll feel so much better than normal. you would’ve thought he’s done teasing you but no instead he focuses on holding a small vibrator to your clit the vibrations pushing you to the edge but not strong enough for you to relish in bliss. “you think you deserve to cum? been so obedient for me haven’t you?”, he questions whilst spanking your ass, the slight jiggle of flesh causes pre cum to ooze out of his clothed cock. soon enough, he decides to show enough mercy and grants you permission to cum— orgasm so powerful that you manage to squirt all over his palm and lips, and making a mess all over but fuck. heizou would be lying if he claimed it didn’t turn him on.

“ i know you’ve still got enough energy for one more, shit m’gonna fuck you like the toy you are, mhmm~ “

✿・TAGGING: @kxisuke + @currysrealm + @leathernourishingshoepolish + @stygianoir + @lex-lee-666

[lvyu]

welcome to wonderland

. . ♡ ･ﾟgeorgenotfound x reader

⎯ ୧ wc. 1.1k

notes: for @/basilly and @/losingvienna’s joint milestone event– congrats to both, you deserve it! (also this is dream smp george, not irl!) i went for a mix of fluffy sweetness and tragedy for this :]

happy reading!

“welcome to wonderland, we’ve got it all...”

oh, how he adored waking up to you everyday.

it hadn’t been long, only a few months, but he loved it every time. before, when the sun would come through the windows, he hated it. the morning light and singing birds only an annoyance.

he was grateful for them now, grateful for you.

george pushed himself closer to you, leaning his head against your shoulder as his arm wrapped around your sleeping figure. you had an awful tendency to stay up late and sleep until late morning, almost always resulting in george waking up earlier than you. he didn’t mind though.

if something provided him more affection from you, he wouldn’t really mind, though he’d never admit it.

he sighed and closed his eyes, tightening his hold for a second before drifting away, back to sleep.

but, before he knew it he was being shaken and his name was being called to wake him up.

“george! please, wake up, it’s sooo late.” truthfully, it was only one in the afternoon, but if he was allowed to sleep any longer it’d suddenly be six in the evening.

he groaned in response and pulled the covers over his head, resuming his snoring from earlier.

you sat back down at the end of the bed, poking his feet. he wasn’t that ticklish on his feet, but if you did it long enough he was bound to get annoyed and do something. you mumbled ‘oh george’ as you poked away, waiting for his reaction.

after a few moments he gave in, opening his eyes slightly, “tired.”

“tired my ass, after like six minutes you’ll be fine.” you pulled the piles of blankets off him and laid across his side. “gonna get sap to come and annoy you with me.”

he brought up a hand to your head and pet it before sitting up, shoving you away in the process. you let out a quiet cheer and grabbed his hand, leading him outside to walk.

“...holding your hand under sapphire skies,

let's go exploring or we could just go for a walk,”

if he was counting right, today was friday, and fridays were fun days.

often you two didn’t do much. laying around your comfy cottage was plenty, but on fridays, per your suggestion, it was tradition to do something a little special. you had taken up responsibility for planning these events, saying it was your way of giving back to him for everything he’d done.

normally he would argue and feel guilty, but when he saw you happily planning out some wacky idea, mumbling ‘this is so good’ and small praises, it seemed better to allow you to have this to yourself.

“what’s on the to-do list for today?” he asked.

you stopped and turned to face him, releasing your hold on his hands. “glad you asked,” you moved to his face, pushing his glasses up and covering his eyes with your hands. he closed his eyes too, knowing this routine all too well. “open ‘em back up in a few seconds, ‘kay?”

he nodded.

although blinded, he could still hear the sounds passing by him, the stage being set. and within a few seconds he’d get to open his eyes and see whatever you prepared for today and you’d go back to bed.

“george!” he felt the warmth of your hands leave. “you can open them, love.”

his previous blank expression quickly turned into one of awe, so clearly completely and utterly in love. it wasn’t big, no more than a quiet secluded spot in the forest with a blanket and some pillows.

you laughed at his sudden change and grabbed his hand again. “what? didn’t expect this?”

before he could respond, you pulled him onto the blanket and sat down. he happily complied and sat too, grabbing a few pillows for his back. once he got settled, you were quick to shift to george’s side and latch onto him, closing your eyes.

through the circle surrounded by the trees, he could see the sun was already setting, though it was no surprise to him. the warm sun in the evening was always your favorite, you said it helped you sleep better. and if your closed eyes and steady breathing were anything to go by, it seemed like you were sleeping peacefully.

it had been less than minutes and you already managed to fall asleep.

he turned on his side, moving your arm with him too. now facing you, he carefully placed your arm on the soft material and scooted ever so closer to you.

you looked beautiful, he noted, even with your face squished against your arm and looking silly.

a quiet moment passes and he also notes that looking at your sleeping figure makes him sleepy too, eyes starting to droop, but refusing to fully close them.

“oh, wonderland i love...”

george dislikes his lack of affection, verbal or physical, despite you reassuring him countless times that you know it’s just not his thing. always adding on that doing simple and thoughtful things were more ‘george-y’ and how that was okay too.

his hand makes it way towards yours, intertwining your fingers together.

a simple ‘i love you’ or prolonged hug goes a long way and george knows that, he knows that. and he makes sure to provide and care for you in the same way you do him.

he tightens his grip before loosening it just as quick, sleep starting to consume him.

and yet, when he goes to tell you that he loves you with his entire being, that he’d like to spend his entire life with you, it’s like he forgets everything. how to speak and even what words are, all knowledge flies out the window and regret and guilt fills him soon after.

“...if this was a dream, then at least i’ve got

memories for when morning comes.”

slowly, his eyes open again and the dread starts to set in once again as it always does. the warmth of the sun quickly replaced by cold and the bright, yet dull moonlight. soft, coziness of the blanket and pillows gone, nothing but wet grass left.

but the trees remain, a small taunt at how his fantasy could’ve become a reality.

“oh, wonderland i love...”

george dislikes his lack of affection, verbal or physical, real or in his dreams. and despite your constant affection and reassurance, he dislikes it with every fiber of his being.

and he dislikes how even in his dreams he can still feel you, still see and touch you though you’re gone, yet still unable to say a simple ‘i love you’ as you hold him close while he leaves.

but perhaps,

this is his own mind’s cruel way of telling him he should’ve done better.

[the-storyteller-and-her-soldiers]

GIRLFRIEND GUESSES MY F/OS!

Final Fantasy 15 Prompto: She thought was the prince, scrappy, lil brother energy of the group, really passionate about something like bikes, picks fights only he can win 'cause he also a bit of a coward! 2000s pop type

Ignis: She knew his name, and got him pretty spot on! Dad friend, book-smart, good at cooking, resourceful in the sense that he's got the mechanic number on hand, handles situations well but gets stressed beneath it all.

Gladio: Too tired to remember his name, knew it once I told her, mechanic type, big tiddie energy man, knew him as the guy I like, short-tempered in the sense he'll tell the others to STFU, protecc mode, big dog energy, handles situations but not always with tact!

Final Fantasy: Stranger of Paradise Jack: Thought he was Gladdy until closer inspection, thinks he's the 2nd in command, got a bit of an ego, talks big and could back it up but the superiors tell him to STFU... can have a bit of softness underneath but very underneath... Judgement

Masaharu Kaito: YAKUZA MAN, fun shirt, tuff and gruff type, responsible in the sense he's lived through and learned from his mistakes, energy of a Rick, definitely my type, big brother energy and responsible for others, drinks respect woman juice, kinda??? a himbo

Sugiuara: A PRETTY OLDER LADY! Totally the foil who scolds the protag-- wait, that's a dude? Oh! (shame ensues), Younger, 18, skater boi, doesn't connect with his dad fully, a bit cool

Higashi: His suit top says 'cool' his shirt says 'disco', casual-friend type, he fucks in general, suave type, he does good with kids but doesn't have his own, respects women

Mafuyu: Office worker, put-together or at least appears to be, friendly enough to do snack and drink runs if you pay your own way, sweet but doesn't have a good connection with others in the sense that she could use someone to vent her woes too and be the listener for once...

Takayuki Yagami: Tired, he needs sleep, yakuza life isn't for him, probably friends with someone in the yakuza, worried and is also Done(tm) with their yakuza friend doing dumb shit, likes gardening and small plants, owns either small dog or cat, get this man sleeeeeeep, didn't realize he was a crush of mine!

Ayabe: Poor dude, lost his job, get him a hairbrush, a better mattress, and a club soda, let him pet some puppies in the adoption center, wants to be a good friend but doesn't have the energy to handle your needs. (Me: He's a corrupt cop--) any weight I feel has been lifted and I no longer care!

Kuroiwa: He gets paid good but doesn't get much pussy, who ties their tie that tight, don't like him, looks like he's turning to say "Do you know who I am?"

Devil May Cry 4 Nero: Big sword, possibly compensating, edgy, shadow the hedgehog type, has a good soft heart, trying his best, will talk at you rather than with, he has no social skill, (old comment): "You're angst compatible!!"

Metal Gear Rising Raiden: SHE KNEW HIM, Couldn't remember his name, new name is Clasp, not comfy enough in his skin really, covers up insecurities by protecting and snarkiness, eyeshadow on fleek, tries to seem cool, is but also isn't

Sunny: Spunky, the kid with too much energy, no set schedule but works best that way, she came into her own as she grew up, quirky, but willing to work hard, also tries to help others when she can

Cobra Kai Robby: this is Robby right, bad boy, does crime, heart of gold underneath it all, would be happy to get a scar to show it off, sets off fireworks display without reading directions, parental issues

And I believe that's all I showed her for now! All of it is in good humor and only off what little she's seen and what I've told her... I love her and if you have any recommendations for her to 'judge' than please send em my way! Imma tag: @floweringforgetfulness @jellyfish-ships @ignited-lovers @disneymarina @promptoargentumsgirlfriend just because I mentioned their boys! Hope you don't mind!!

[thewalkingdead-imagines]

Negan Imagine ~ Magic

Summary: Negan takes you on a surprise trip to one of his favorite places on earth.

This is my entry for twdsunshine’s 3k followers writing challenge! I hope you all enjoy it!

The soft purling of the streak sounded through the air, mixing with the gentle breeze that whirled through the crowns of the trees, just enough to let their leaves rustle as you watched nature’s beauty unfold right before your eyes.  Tiny blossoms of lilac heather peaked through the spots of earth in between the rocks that formed the streak, their color enhanced by the warm light of the dusk that broke through the trees and danced over the water. It glimmered, like little diamonds that adorned the crowns of the waves as it made its way down the stream. It looked like a view you’d only see in movies, so filled with magic that you couldn’t peel your eyes from it. “Sweetheart, I’d love to stay here longer but I gotta get us to your surprise destination before sunset...’cause that’s where the real damn magic happens”, you heard Negan’s deep voice rumble, a chuckle falling from his lips as his warm hand grasped yours a little tighter and made you finally look back up at him,”Promise, it’s gonna be even prettier than here.” “Not really sure if that’s possible”, you said with a soft grin, watching the roguish smirk on his face expand a bit more over his handsome features. “Lemme prove it to you”, he said, winking before he nodded towards the small beaten path you’d been following until now,”It’s not far anymore.” “Alright...I’m curious”, you said, feeling a warm tingle run through your body as Negan tugged softly on your hand.  It didn’t need more than that for you to follow him, move back onto the path as your excitement grew with every step you took. Barely a minute later he lead you off the trial, into the undergrowth. It wasn’t too thick, just enough to still comfortably walk through it, though this little twist peaked your interest all the more. You kept looking out for something, kept observing Negan to see whether his reactions changed but he kept his pokerface on until more light started to gush through the spaces between the trees.  You could peak through them just enough to divine a glade behind them, though the curve of the small hill you were walking up kept you from seeing its entirety yet.  “Ah wait”, Negan suddenly said, stopping as he shot you a grin and earned a curious but confused look of you. “Surprise is surprise, right?”, he chuckled, his hand leaving yours for the first time in a whole while as he moved behind you. “What are you doing?”, you asked with a small laugh, turning your head towards him just as he rose up his hands to your head and you started to put two and two together. “Baby, I know you. If I’d tell you to close your eyes for the last few feet you’d peak. You’re curious as fuck”, he said, chuckling deeply as you let out a groan and nudged him softly with your elbow.  “Just sayin’ the truth, now close your eyes and lemme put my hands over that beautiful face of yours”, he said, winking at you one last time before you turned your head back around and allowed him to place his large, warm hands over your eyes.  “If you let me stumble over rocks or roots, I’ll chase you”, you chuckled as you made your first careful steps upwards, testing the ground beneath your shoes’ soles while a deep laugh rumbled through Negan’s chest. “I’m faster than you, doll”, he teased back, still leading you forwards,”Won’t let ya fall though, promise.” You only hummed in response, still focusing on your movements before you started to feel the soft breeze becoming a little stronger, barely noticeable but still enough to realize that the trees that had been shielding you from it up until now were gone.  “Alright, gonna let ya go now but I need you to keep your eyes closed for just another second, I wanna see your reaction”, he said, waiting for you to nod before his warmth left your face. You listened, keeping your eyes closed as you heard him move beside you while you almost bursted with excitement. “Okay”, he finally said before you started to open your eyes that slowly began to adjust to the light around you. 

For a moment, your breath seemed to stop as you started to take in the beauty that unfolded right before you, even more beautiful than the view earlier, just as he’d promised.  A small valley was stretching out right in front of you, most of it covered in the blossoming, lilac heather and here and there, a few bright green grassy spots were peaking out in between them. A few birches had struck roots within the deepest spots of the valley, their white stems were lit up in warm, orange tones right where the evening sun hit them and from up here, they almost seemed small. Right beside them, a few deers were grazing peacefully while two or three others were napping in between the heather, though you were sure there were more of them hiding in between the flowers, finding their peace for the night.  it looked magical, from the flowers, to the trees, to the deers, everything seemed to be bathing in the warm dusk light that let the scenery look like straight out of a fairytale.  “Wow”, it fell from your lips as you were still staring at the landscape, so taken aback by its beauty that you could barely say anything else. “I was right, huh?”, Negan asked, a big grin plastered over his face as you peeled your glance from the pretty view and nodded. “How did you find this?”, you asked, glimpsing at him as he let out a deep chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. “Magic”, he grinned, though a small snort left his lips as you tilted your head a little and raised your brows, too curious to be satisfied with his answer. “My mom used to take me here sometimes as a kid”, he finally said with a small sigh, his glance wandering back down the valley,”Y’know, when things got too hard and she thought we just needed a break from reality.” You gave him another small nod as he glimpsed back at you, the big grin now a small but warm smile as he moved in to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you gently into his side. “Always wanted to take you here but it only blooms like that once a year”, he said, nodding towards the heather,”It’s always beautiful but I thought it would be the best to introduce you to it when it’s in its full damn beauty.” A bigger smile started to grow on your lips and a fuzzy feeling spread through you as Negan glanced down at you and tightened his arm around you a little, “And ‘cause I thought the both of us could use a damn break from reality too...well, I thought now was the right moment.” “Thank you”, you mumbled, still taken aback as you wrapped an arm around him to hug him back, nuzzling your nose against his shirt as a wider smile grew on your face,”I don’t even know what to say.” “Already? This isn’t all though”, Negan retorted with a chuckle, enough to let you look back up at him as he gestured towards the backpack that hung from his shoulders,”Didn’t pack this fucking big bag for nothin’.” An excited expression pressed in over his features as he didn’t say more but instead loosened his embrace and grasped your hand so he could start to lead you down the hill.  You didn’t move all to far down, just a little until you could spot a small, natural platform that had formed through the hill’s curves, a sweet little spot between some small heather flowers that seemed like a perfect place to rest.  You watched as Negan let go of you and moved towards the spot, kicking a few smaller rocks off of it before he let down his backpack and pulled a wrapped up picnic blanket out. He was quick to spread it out over the grassy ground and dragged his backpack closer before he plumped down onto it and grinned up a you. “C’mon, lets get comfy”, he said, patting the blanket as you moved towards him and sat down on the fabric while he reached back into the backpack, grinning wider as he could see the curiosity plastered over your face.  “Alrighty, here we go. We’ve got our two besties, whiskey and wine”, Negan said proudly, pulling two bottles out, wiggling some cooling pads off of them that fell right back into the bag before he moved his hands to feel the glass surfaces and let out an excited sound,”Those fuckers actually stayed cold...can’t believe this cooling shit actually worked.” He grinned to himself before he reached back inside and first took two glasses and then two smaller boxes out, holding them up for a moment as he gave you another wink. “And some snacks...got some bread, spread, fruit and some of those bacon-cheese sticks stuff you liked...y’know all that good shit”, he said, placing them beside the backpack before he pulled another one out and let your mouth drop slightly open as you saw how much of an effort he’d made. “Baby, if you keep your mouth this open some bug’s gonna fly in there”, you heard him say with a smirk as he looked back up at you, moving his finger up to gesture with a wiggle at your lips before you let out a snort and playfully swatted his finger away. “Idiot”, you laughed, only watching the smirk on his lips grow wider ,”I’m just impressed....that surprise worked.” “Good”, he mumbled, before he moved over to grasp your hand and give you a nod, “C’mere.” You didn’t need another invitation to climb over to him and move into the spot between his legs, sighing as you could lean back against his warm, broad chest. His arms were quick to wrap around you and cradle you closer, holding you tightly as he pressed a kiss against your temple. A thick but content sigh fell from your lips as you felt his rough beard stubble brush softly against your skin, nudging you to sink deeper into his embrace. “You wanna drink something?”, he mumbled against your skin before he backed a little off and raised his brows at you while you quickly nodded. “Yep, can’t let it get warm after you did all that to keep ‘em cold”, you said with a grin as Negan reached for the bottles, “Think I’ll start with the wine.” “Yes, Ma’am”, Negan chuckled, moving in to pour some wine in one of the glasses for you before he got some whiskey for himself and handed you the drink. “Cheers”, he said, raising his glass to you before he let out a deep chuckle,”Oh and look into my damn eyes, doll. Y’know what they say, no eye contact during a toast gets ya seven years of bad sex, can’t have that.” “Well, I don’t think bad sex is possible with you either way”, you chuckled as you raised your glass to him as well, grinning as he let out a thick laugh. “Damn, you’re trying to make me blush?”, he chuckled back, winking at you before he let his glass clink gently against yours, sure to keep your eye contact. “Maybe”, you chuckled, before you took your first sip and let out a content sigh, “That’s good.” “Sure hope so”, Negan grinned back, gulping down some of his whiskey while you leaned back against him and cuddled closer, feeling how he wrapped his arm tightly around your waist and rested his head against yours as your glance swayed over the landscape.  The sun was starting to sink behind the skyline of the trees, surrounding their crowns with a glowing line of its last but warm light, while its last rays were dancing over the grass and the heather. It seemed to look more magical with every passing moment, with each new spot you seemed to discover and with each glance you got at the flowers, the grazing deers and the softly swinging trees. A large smile was spreading over your face as you cuddled closer into Negan’s embrace, allowing him to engulf you with his warmth and comforting scent while more and more happiness washed over you. “Thank you...so so much, it’s perfect”, you mumbled, placing your glass securely beside you before turning your head a little so you could look at him ,”You’re the best...I got so lucky with you.” Negan’s eyes lit up as the small laughter lines at the sides of his eyes wrinkled softly and his dimples sunk slightly in as a warm smile widened his lips. You knew how badly he needed to hear this last sentence from time to time, reassure him that he was being a good partner to you. And he was, not only a good one, he truly was the best you could have ever wished for.  Glancing only a mere second away he placed his glass beside himself, sure to not drop it before his glance captured yours again as his rough hand reached up to cup the side of your face. Leaning in, he let his lips meet yours in a kiss, loving and surprisingly soft, yet with enough passion to let you realize how much joy he was feeling as well. “I love you, Sweetheart”, you could hear him mumble against your lips ,”So goddamn much.” He moved in to peck your lips once more, allowing you to taste the hint of whiskey that was still laying on his lips before he backed a little away to look you over, the adoration in his eyes giving you an even warmer feeling than the one that was already cozily making itself at home in your body. “I love you too”, you mumbled back with a bright smile before he moved to cradle you back against himself, hold you tight but comfortably as you watched the sunset fill the rest of the sky.  Sighing softly, you sunk deeper into Negan’s embrace, trying to soak up everything about the moment that would turn into a dreamish night, with drinks and snacks, the most beautiful view you could imagine, and most importantly, with Negan right by your side. 

[obae-me]

The House of Lamantation on Summer Vacation

“I believe the humans call it ‘Summer Vacation’,” Diavolo announced to his prestigious student council. “A time where students take a break from their studies and have fun. I think this could be an amazing opportunity to further strengthen our bond between demons and humans. Which is exactly why I want all of you along with MC to experience this Summer Vacation for yourselves. No need to worry, I have it all planned out already. You all are dismissed, you have packing to do after all!”

Lucifer

He was very against going on a vacation. It was more of a chance for his brothers to get themselves in trouble. And going to the human world no less, a world he was still pretty unfamiliar with. He was less in control there, which made him even more upset.

Once he saw the sparkle of excitement in MC’s eyes, he softened a little, and tried not to completely dismiss the idea.

Made sure to pack his extra special collection of Demonus. He would probably need it.

Once they all got to their own private beachfront cabin via the influence of the Lord of the Devildom, Lucifer laid down the ground rules. Too many of them...

Will pester and coddle MC constantly. “Where are you? Did you put on sunscreen? I want to know your location at all times. Wear sandles, you don’t want your feet to burn. Don’t swim out too far.”

MC is now in possession of secret pictures of Lucifer passed out in a hammock, his sunglasses slightly crooked on his face. He’s never looked so peaceful. MC refuses to let anyone know about the pictures they took, including Lucifer.

Will un-ironically take MC on a romantic walk on the beach.

Actually enjoyed his time on vacation, but won’t admit it to anyone.

Mammon

This boy is so excited. No class? No studies? And in all in the human world no less? He’s going to do whatever he wants whenever he wants, and steal buy stuff along the way.

He brought a full empty suitcase for all the stuff he’s going to acquire.

Started an intense water gun war by getting one of Satan’s books wet, which will effectively end in Lucifer getting a face full of water and banning water guns for the rest of the trip and possibly for eternity.

“Yo, human, I found these on the beach, who knew something free could be so pretty. Shells in the Devildom usually have a monster attached to them, heh. H-hey don’t get the wrong idea, these are completely worthless, and so I don’t want ‘em! I thought you could do something with them I guess...”

A few creepy men decided to give MC a hard time, but those humans were not prepared to have Mammon stroll up behind them with a look so serious MC almost didn’t even recognize him. They wouldn’t be bothering MC again, and Mammon never left MC’s side for the rest of the trip.

MC keeps finding little gifts on their nightstand in their room, they know it’s from Mammon, but anytime they bring it up he pretends like he has no idea. “Wow that’s crazy huh?? Looks like you have someone really great and generous looking out for you, human!”

Levi

Levi was also against going. Being outside around human world normies? being without his PC? And his figures?? Not to mention he’d miss new summer anime releases!

Almost had to be dragged out of the house until he came around to the idea when MC mentioned this was practically a Beach Episode.

Still ended up downloading a bunch of anime on his phone as well as every portable game system he owned.

If this shut-in could barely handle the light in the Devildom he is not ready for bright shiny human summer days. So prepare to hear him complain.

This boy will swim fully clothed, and will also manage to have every little beach creature follow him around. He tried naming all of them Henry but eventually lost count of how many new friends he made.

Spent hours building a sandcastle with MC because it was exactly what the main protagonist of “I Became Friends With A Mermaid And Now I Spend All Day At The Beach Building Sandcastles” would do.

Can’t stop imagining MC as a mermaid and can’t stop being flustered when they see them.

“H-hey, MC...would you maybe...want to go swimming with me when it’s dark? The human night sky is really beautiful...not that you’d want to do something with an ugly shut-in like me...”

Satan

Was pretty indifferent to having to go on vacation. As long as he could read he would be fine. In fact, this could be a pretty interesting trip, there’s so many new things he could learn.

Packed books on tropical human climates. Actually packed any book he thought would enhance this experience. More books than personal items.

Also brought along his camera for his most recent hobby on photography, and he hasn’t had the opportunity to take anything on the human world.

For some reason he finds that with most of his pictures, MC happens to be in almost all of them. Strange.

Absolutely despises getting wet other than showers, so he’ll stay far away from the ocean, safe either in their cabin or on the sand. He only broke this rule of his twice, once for the water gun fiasco and secondly for a game of Chicken Fight just for an opportunity to shove Lucifer underwater. 

He’ll probably tell MC some disturbing fact about the ocean just to get them to hang out with him on dry land for the rest of the day and will read to MC while they relax.

He once fell asleep on a beach chair, book over his chest, the title mentioning something about pirates. MC smiled and put the book off to the side, remembering to save the page. 

Somehow he and Lucifer didn’t bother each other as much during the vacation, in fact Satan seemed to be enjoying his time, and be able to laugh and smile without any malice behind it. 

Asmo

Selfies, selfies, selfies!

So excited about going on vacation, all the stress from exams wasn’t doing his skin any good. Besides, he loves the glow he gives off under the sun in the human world.

Packed so much stuff it was a wonder they brought it all. Pretty much packed everything he owned, just in case.

Uses the summer heat as an excuse to wear as little as he possibly can.

Will be hanging out at the beach almost constantly, lounging out in the open, flirting with anyone he comes across. Especially MC.

“MC! You need more sunscreen, come over and let me get those hard to reach spots.~”

Packed several swimsuits for MC despite them never asking him to, but they try them all on for him to humor him at least.

Doesn’t care about getting wet because you know he’s got that special waterproof stuff. He’ll be looking great regardless. 

If MC happens to be insecure about how they look in a bathing suit, he will be their hype man. “But dear, you look amazing. MC, I’m the demon of lust, if I say you look good, that means you look great, and if anyone says otherwise, well, they’ll have me to deal with.” 

Beel

Is fine with going on vacation as long as there’s good food.

Packed his personal stuff pretty lightly, but had to bring along about seven coolers worth of food.

MC introduces him to all sorts of summer treats, popsicles, sherbets, shaved ice. But his new favorite sweet treat turned out to be the s’mores he and MC made together over an open fire.

Somehow restrains himself well enough to keep plenty of snacks and food for MC.

Will make sure MC is well fed and hydrated at All Times. “MC, you’ve been out playing for a while, come share this watermelon with me. MC, come drink this lemonade, it’s so tasty.”

MC went a little too far out in the water, getting caught up in a current, struggling to get back to the others. Beel didn’t spend a moment to hesitate before diving in the water, swimming like an Olympic athlete to help MC back to shore keeping an eye on them like a lifeguard from then on out.

Aside from the endless eating he’ll probably get into some sports like beach volleyball. He also played a tournament of Chicken Fight with MC on his shoulders against all the other brothers. They were an undefeated team.

This sweet boy will enjoy the trip to it’s fullest, because it was filled with food and family.

Belphie

He’s conflicted about going. He tried to back out of it plenty of times before Lucifer finally threatened him. He feels like it’s...too soon for him to be going back to the human world. But if MC is going...whatever, it’s not like he had anything going on anyway.

Packed plenty of pillows, blankets, and comfy clothes, fully expecting to sleep for two weeks straight. He hates how hot it is, MC has never seen him without his usual baggy layered clothes, but he’s opted for shorts and a tank top.

Doesn’t like how bright it is, so he’ll wear sunglasses and stay under the shade at all times if he can. He’ll complain about the sun but he can sleep through anything, and will take naps no matter how sunny it is. 

Became the victim of getting his body buried in the sand, but it was like a blanket so he fell asleep instantly. Stayed there for hours until Beel came and carried him home.

Doesn’t like swimming too much but will join in by laying on a float. MC flipped the float over once, and Belphie got into a splash fight with them which ended with both of them exhausted. More sleepy cuddles. 

Will make sure MC gets good rest after each day of activity, he’ll bring cool cloths, fans, teas, himself.

Spent a full day with MC building a pillow fort worthy of Diavolo himself, they rewarded themselves by sleeping close together in their own blanket nest under the soft glow of fairy lights.

Extra

They all found out that demons actually can get sunburns, so MC was tasked with taking care of all the brothers during the trip, doing their best not to laugh at all their reddened faces. 

Their summer vacation only lasted about two weeks much to MC’s disappointment, but figured it was probably for the best for the safety of humanity. 

Diavolo was extremely satisfied with the results, and kept it in mind for plenty of other events he had planned for them.

[fangirlingincamouflage]

Blind Hope: Chapter 7

Title: Blind Hope Author: Rosie Dayze Word Count: 1,232 Pairing: Nick Jakoby x Reader Chapter Rating: PG-13 Themes: Angst, Plot, affectionate frustration Disclaimer I do not own Nick Jakoby, he is the intellectual property of Netflix Originals, I make no money from this fanfiction. Dedication: @14readwritedraw96 and @thezucchini​ (For being so wonderfully enthusiastic) TW/CW Descriptions of pain, long term hospital stay

Previous chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 <~ You are Here

You are standing in the middle of the pasta isle at the grocery store when your cell phone goes off. It's that distinctive ping of an unknown number texting you. You sigh, roll your eyes, and wonder what is the easiest possible thing that you can make for dinner that night. In the past six days your workload has tripled. June and Em are on a much needed vacation and Nick is still unconscious at the hospital.

You know that because you called right before you left to go grocery shopping. You also called first thing this morning, and last night, and the morning before, and the night before that. You have called the hospital at least twice a day for the past thirty-seven days. You got the exact same information.

“Officer Jakoby is still in an induced coma, and he is not ready to be seen by friends or family.”

It was maddening.

Your phone goes off again and you set a jar of premade sauce back on the shelf. Your stomach isn't feeling red sauce. It isn't feeling pasta. Or oranges. Or any one of a thousand other things you were totally down for eating. You hadn't been hungry since the night part of LA went up in magical flames. Since Nick had been hospitalized.

With a sigh you eased into the snack isle. Is a bag of chips an acceptable replacement for dinner? Probably not, but you've had take out for the past two weeks and absolutely none of it has filled the steady, continuing ache in your heart.

Your phone goes off again.

“What?” you snarl loud enough to make the old lady with a basket full of frozen dinners blink with bewilderment. “Sorry. Not you.”

You pull your phone out and waive it at her. She doesn't look convinced, and doubles her speed to get into the next isle.

With a few swipes you bring up your new messages.

“This is Jessica, the Head Nurse at the Intensive Care Unit at the UCLA Medical Center.” The first message reads.

Your heard pounds so hard in your chest that your vision goes a little hazy. You grip your phone tightly enough to make the screen rainbow with protest.

“Nick Jakoby has achieved a state of continuing consciousness. One of my nurses made the mistake of telling him that you had stopped by.”

That hazy feeling turns to ash. You had wanted to see him yourself, to let him know what had gone on, and why you hadn't talked to him in six, not seven, months.  He must be angry, furious.

The third message is brief, and comes across as a little mad. “In order to keep him in bed, I promised him you would come see him tonight. Do not make me a liar.”

You desert your cart, and take the shortest possible trip to the hospital that you have ever taken. Which is impressive, considering all the times you driven up there in the past month, just in case something had happened between your morning and evening check-ins.

You don't stop at the front desk, you know where you are going. The elevator doors close as you turn the corner, and the wait for the next ones seems like an eternity. The moment the doors whoosh open, you surge inside hitting the buttons for the ICU floor. You don't even wait. You ht the close-door button and watch your reflection stare back at you as the lift starts to rise.

What are you going to say? Should you have gotten balloons? Flowers? A stuffed animal? Would he even be allowed those things? Did he want them from you? Did he want to see you to make up or to have a final talk? In the twenty-eight seconds that it takes to get to your floor, your mind plays out you greatest hopes and worst fears in a strange, overlapping loop that leaves you feeling a little lightheaded.

Though maybe that has something to do with the fact that you haven't eaten well in a month.

Your clothes don't fit right, you think as you tug at the fabric. You should have gone home to change. You were wearing your comfy clothes to go shopping. The fabric weird. Then you realize its not the fabric, its your own skin. You are so nervous that your skin feels like an electric current is running through it. With a huff you roll your shoulders, trying to settle your nerves. It doesn't help.

The doors slide open and as fast as you got into the elevator, you hesitate to get out. This could go wrong. What if his mother is there? His partner? What about Johnassen, the jerk who broke his phone so long ago?

It doesn't matter you tell yourself as you take that first step off the elevator. All that matters is he's awake. You'll be able to see him with your own eyes.

A stern looking woman with stark gray curls looks up from a desk as you approach. She tilts her head and inspects you.

“For Jakoby?” she asks like she already knows the answer. “Follow me.”

Your heart is in your ears as you follow in the steps of her worn out shoes. She swipes her badge, taking you through a set of secure double doors. The sounds of the hospital change. The ICU is bereft of human noises, but it isn't quiet. You can hear televisions on a half a dozen channels turned down low, doing what they could to preoccupy patients who were in layers of pain. The sound of breathing machines hiss and whirl. A man in green scrubs wheels supplies down the hall. There's no happy, warm chatter. Just a strange sense of desolation and pain.

You do not like it here, and you can't imagine Nick here. Nick, with his warm laugh and kindness. Nick who kisses you like the universe exists in your lips. You want to scoop him up and take him away.

The nurse stops outside of a door at the end of the hall.

“They are quarantined behind a see through partition,” she tells you in the kind of no-nonsense voice that must come from years in her work. “Do not attempt to breech this partition.”

She holds out a long medical gown. Confused, you shoved your arms into the sleeves. She spins you, and starts to tie it up, and then she puts another one on your back, spinning you again so she can tie it in the front. She hands you a cap, and a mask, and you put them both on as she helps your feet into medical grade booties.

“How dangerous is it?” You ask as she holds up a pair of gloves to slip on your hands.

“Unknown,” she tucks the end of the gloves over the wristband of the double set of gowns. “But you saw the news, you know where they were. Better safe than sorry.”

She types a number into the key pad. “You get ten minutes. No more, no less. I'm not being mean, but we need to minimize any chance of exposure.”

You nod your understanding. Ten minutes isn't much time, but you'll make the most of it.

“There are armed men in there,” she finally says. “Don't do anything to make them think you are a threat.”

It's the last bit of advice she gives you before the pad turns green and the door is opened.

The room is long, white, and empty save for what looks like a box made out of hanging plastic. Only a few of the lights are on, casting half the room in evening darkness. There are several beds, but only one of them is occupied. The long, lean body of a black male is visible beneath the harsh lighting. Three other people stand guard, dressed from head to toe, AR-15 clutched in their hands. The door closes behind you.

For a moment you stand there, frozen and unsure. A little, ugly thought makes you wonder if this is some weird trick. Then you hear your name.

Your eyes are drown to the shape of a man sitting in a chair. You hadn't noticed him at first because the dark lines of his body blend a little too easily with the pseudo darkness on that side of the room. But now that you've seen him, you can't pull your gaze away.

Nick. You'd know the shape of him anywhere. The broad, strong line of his shoulders stands guardian against the pitch black behind him. There's a blanket across his legs, and an IV in his arm.

“It's you,” he says softly, disbelieving.

“Nick.” You take one step, and then another, and before you know it your legs are carrying you across the room. You almost forget the plastic. When you foot hits it, you're startled. The guards watch you with cold glares. “Sorry.”

And once you start saying it, you can't stop. Over and over again you apologize. You don't realize you are crying until you taste the hot salt of your own tears. You are sorry you didn't call him. You are sorry you left. You are sorry you didn't answer him back. You are sorry for everything you ever did in the last six months because none of those things was going to him. You sink to your knees at the edge of the partition, the tears making it impossible to speak.

He says your name again, so soft you wonder if you dreamed it. You look up, and he's shaking his head.

“Please, don't cry.”

Slowly, unsteadily, he gets up. He doesn't look at you as he pulls the chair from one side of the plastic sheet box to the other. Right in front of you, he plops the chair down, and then lowers himself into it. His staccato motions belie how hurt he must still be.

The pair of you are silent as you look one another over. You see the bruises beneath his woad blue spots; purple and yellow and, in some places, black. You see the stitches in his arm, the thick swelling of his hands. The skin around his cheeks is slack with the lack of food he's gotten in the past month. But his eyes, those gorgeous eyes that are yellow and red and orange all at once, they are filled with pain that has nothing to do with being thrown half a football field by a magical explosion.

“You're here,” he says, his voice soft. “I thought-” He stop short, shrugging, and then wincing.

“I know,” you tell him. While you aren't sure of the exact words he must have thought, you know that it couldn't have been good.

“Why?” he asks.

You open your mouth to tell him, but the words wont come. You remember Elizabeth, his mother, and the way she had looked at you. You could tell him everything, but what good would that do? He might get angry at his mother, it might cause some kind of rift between them and how many people did Nick really have who cared that much for his safety? Not nearly enough, you think as you take in injuries you hadn't noticed before.

Instead you shrug. You can't bring yourself to lie, but you can't bring yourself to tell him the truth either, no matter how much it's burned inside of you. You turn the words that she said over in your mind, pulling an answer from them without revealing their source.

“You got hurt because you were with me.” Your voice cracks as you say it.

His eyes close and his shoulders sag. His body leans forward. You think he's about to slide out of the chair. The pair of you kneel on the floor, staring at one another. Emotions that you don't think have ever been named whirl through you. You want to touch him, you want to hold him, you want to vanish together into the night.

“No,” he said shaking his head. “No. You were just the excuse. When they saw me-” he cuts off, coughs, and shakes. “They'd already decided what they were going to do.”

He looks away. You can tell that there's more to say, that he's struggling. Rather than push you give him a moment. He deserves that at the very least.

“It wont happen again,” he says.

“Why not?”

He opens his palm, I can't see anything there, but he must because he's staring down at it like it's something special.

“I can't talk about a lot that happened that night,” he says. “I want to, I want to tell you everything but...I can't.”

You shake your head. “I just need to know you are safe.”

“I think I am. I mean-I gotta tell you, it was not a normal night. I was...I was blooded.”

Your eyes go wide. You can't help but stare at his lips. He smirks.

“It'll take a while for the tusks to grow. But I don't need to file them anymore.”

You sit back on your heels. “Are you okay with that?”

He shrugs. “I guess that depends.”

“On what?” you ask.

He takes a deep breath and looks at you. It's a long look, a scared and hopeful one. It's like he's weighing a thousand dreams as he watches you and all you can do is wait.

“I thought I was getting over you,” he finally says. “It'd been months. Long months. Really, really long months. My mom even set me up on a couple dates with some unblooded girls from other states.”

Your stomach twists.

“Yeah?” you say, hoping that he's not about to tell you that he has moved on and this whole thing was about him saying goodbye.

“They were nice, but they...they didn't understand me. They didn't like what I do. They didn't like my jokes and they all thought Alaska is stupid.” The two of you laugh and it feels so good. He shifts his position until the two of you are nearly the same height. “I wasn't falling for someone else but I was pretending really hard like I was getting over you.”

You nod, you know what he means. You'd been going through all the motions, acting like you were moving forward when all you were doing was playing the role and hoping.

“I was going to come see you,” he said. “As soon as my shift was over that night. I was going to go right to your apartment. Everyone said I shouldn't because I'd just get hurt, but I thought that it would be worth it. I just..”

Slowly he reached into the blanket still twisted around his legs. His thick, injured fingers shook with pain as he pushed the fabric around.

“Where-hold on-it's here, I swear.”

Your heart, which has already gone through far too much, pounds all over again. Your mouth goes dry.

“Nick...”

“I almost died you know,” he says as he lifts a corner, continues to look. There's a little wetness on his brow, and you wonder if it's fear, nerves, or pain that's put it there. “And not just once. I almost died like four times.”

One of the guards cleared their throats.

“I know,” Nick said, holding up his free hand. “I know. I can't tell her anything. But you only have to look at me to see that it happened.” He went still, and bowed his head. “I did die.”

It's not even a whisper, there's no sound. It's a breath of words that you are sure the guards couldn't hear. You pounding heart turns to ice in your chest.

“What?”

But he doesn't say it again. Instead he looks up at you and his eyes are bright with a hundred emotions. “And all I could think about, was you.”

He holds out his hand. Nested there is a black velvet box. Carefully, he opens it, revealing a ring. It's made of two metals, platinum and rose gold, twisted around one another to form a very simple braid, and right there at the center is a stone in the exact same shade of blue as his spots.

“All  I thought about every day has been you,” he is saying when your ears start to work again. “And I don't want to ever have to worry again.”

You swallow twice before you can speak. “Are you proposing?”

You aren't sure if he's blushing, but his ears twitch. “Only if you're saying yes.”

“You have to ask,” you say. “You have to...ask.”

“Is it a spell? A human thing?” he says.

You shrug, because it kind of is, but mostly you just need to time to stop your thoughts from making such a commotion in your head. There are a hundred ways this could go wrong, a thousand even, but even so-

He says your name and you find that he's shifted yet again, down on one knee in front of you. “Will you marry me?”

[husbandomail-archive]

Hello! I hope you’re having a lovely day! Can I please request a matchup for Hypmic? I use she/her pronouns and I’d like to be matched with a male! My friends often say that I’m warm, encouraging, clever and diligent. Being helpful for others mean a lot to me, and I really value making good impression on others. I’m quite introverted, but I can still be comfy and cheerful around closer people and sometimes lowkey tease them just for fun. I tend to be a perfectionist, and I try my best to work hard in everything. So I’d say I’m a bit competitive, impatient and self-critical. Taking walks, playing card/board games, reading mystery novels and drawing are my favorite activities. Thank you so much for reading! I love your nice work💕 - 🍎 anon

ayyy, thanks lmao

I’d match you with Ichiro!

The Yamada family has been sorely missing a mother figure, and that’s probably what draws him to you to begin with; you sound like a really sweet girl, and because of that, Ichiro is comfortable coming to you whenever he needs something. It sounds like you’re more than willing to help him out no matter what, whether he needs help with the family business or just needs some emotional support. He’s the same way, and it’s important to him that you know you can approach him if you ever need anything.

He’s definitely more on the energetic side, but since he can get along with all kinds of people, he’s a total sweetheart when your social battery runs dry; if it’s obvious you’re tired of being with people for now, he’s making excuses for you both to leave the group and go home. He’s also more than willing to just let you lounge in his bedroom by yourself to recharge— it’s the quietest spot in the house, and he’ll bring you snacks or a drink, check on you to make sure you’re feeling okay.

Ichiro loves the fact that, despite how gentle you are, you work hard at everything you do; while he really doesn’t mind the idea of pampering someone, he’s a very hands-on kind of man, and he definitely loves the idea of being able to work together with you on things. He’s also gentle enough to combat your perfectionism— it’s commendable that you want to provide the best for people, but you do have to realize that you’re human, and there’s only so much you can do. It’s nothing to feel bad about if things don’t turn out perfectly. He’s also quick to step in when you seem to be over-exerting yourself; wanting to make a good impression is understandable, but it’s not worth risking your own health and happiness.

Obviously he’s overjoyed that you share so many interests; your tastes might not be identical, but he’s always willing to broaden his horizons, and he just likes hearing you talk about your passions anyways. If you have any book recommendations, he definitely wants to hear about ‘em. Board games are like declaring war in his house— it’s always loud between his younger brothers, but it’s also super fun, getting progressively wilder as they all make up rules. It sounds like you’d fit in perfectly.

[exhaustedfander]

“Don’t Tell Janus” [Moceit]

This is based on a textpost I saw of drunk Patton telling Janus that he loved him then asking him not to tell Janus. I thought that was such a fun idea so I had to run with it. This gets kinda horny at the end, but there’s no smut. I’d love to hear what you guys think! 

Word count: 3,797

A03 link

Seeing Patton intoxicated was a fairly new development in their friendship. It’s an odd thing to think about, all that’ve changed in the last few months. Janus had been more than a little surprised that Thomas had accepted him, but Patton? The physical embodiment of morality? He’d never been foolish enough to hope for such things.

Janus and Patton’s relationship had been fairly messy for most of their existence. When they were children things were far simpler, but even then, there was opposition. Janus had never gone far enough to claim outright hatred for Patton, not even when he might’ve deserved to do so. It was hard, even when they were so bitter to one another, to claim to hate someone who was usually so kind, so bubbly and full of positivity. There were instances where he’d longed to despise him, but there was always something about Patton that was so likeable and soft, despite what he tried to see.

For years he’d tried, in vain, to win Patton over to his side. Eventually he’d given up, determined to gain some kind of influence in Thomas’s life even if he did so despise by the others. In the end, it took Patton having a frog-related meltdown in order for things to finally sink in. Janus’s importance and everything he represented, as it turned out, was far more nuanced than Patton had ever allowed himself to consider.

Janus hadn’t expected Patton’s acceptance of him, much less his friendship. He had apologized to Janus for all of the hurt he’d caused him just as he’d apologized to Thomas. Janus had tried to rebel against it and not accept it so easily, but he couldn’t help himself. The way that Patton said it, so genuinely, explaining that he felt so awful for all that he’d put him through and that from there on out he wanted to include him more. For the love of God, Patton had hugged him, tucking him into a tight embrace and promising he’d do better by him with tears in his eyes, like he was devastated for the animosity that had festered between them.

And this wasn’t without consequences for the moral side, either. Things between him and Roman had been fractured to say the least, recently. It wasn’t like Roman and Janus were on any better footing; the princely side had been avoiding him like the plague ever since their sharing of rather unkind words. Quite the opposite, Patton had been seeking him out quite a lot.

Chats in the common room between them were beginning to become fairly routine, as strange as that was to admit. Janus was now invited to movie nights and for meals, even to the distain of others. He and Virgil certainly weren’t in the best place and he had been spending even more time with Roman recently to avoid him. Janus couldn’t believe that Patton would be willing to sacrifice so much to spend time with him. It just didn’t make sense.

It wasn’t as though he was complaining. His time spent with Patton was cherished and something he was growing to enjoy more and more as time went on. Janus was growing quite fond of the moral side, maybe more so that he’d like to admit.

He was by no means used to the physical contact that Patton provided him. Embraces were becoming very common, and in all honesty, Janus still wasn’t used to it at all. Being wrapped up in Patton’s arms, feeling far too safe, too warm. It spelled trouble, the way such things made him feel. But who was he to deny Patton a hug or two?

He should’ve. Surely, it would’ve staved off so much heartbreak if he’d been a litter firmer, more distant. If he had been an acquaintance rather than a friend, someone who was of little importance to Patton but played a role in his life nonetheless. For a long time he’d considered Patton a coworker, just as he considered the others to some extent, but things were shifting. He couldn’t call Patton that now; not after everything that had recently occurred.

Physical-contact was one thing but seeing Patton drunk was another entirely. Janus had been fairly surprised to find out that Patton liked to unwind with a glass of wine at the end of the day sometimes just as he did. As it turned out, he didn’t like to drink in front of the others, opting to do so when everyone else had gone to bed.

When Janus asked why, Patton had simply responded, bubbly as ever: “Oh I just get a little silly when I’ve had something to drink is all.” At the time, Janus had assumed that would be the end of it. If Patton didn’t feel comfortable drinking around the others than it was very doubtful he would behave any differently around Janus.

Except on Janus’s search for a late-night cup of tea he found Patton leaning against the kitchen counter, nursing half a glass of wine. He was about to turn on his heel and leave without his beverage before Patton spotted him and grinned wide as ever.

“Jan! C’mer, come talk with me!” Patton invited cheerily, his voice a touch too loud for the time of night. Janus considered leaving. Would keeping Patton company be rude, considering what he’d said? But then again…he’d offered him his company, rather enthusiastically in fact. And the idea of turning Patton down and upsetting him rather than staying for a while was far more unappealing.

“Hello, Patton,” Janus said as he strode into the kitchen and stood beside the moral side.

“Hey – you want some?” Patton said, gesturing to the bottle of wine sitting on the counter. Janus thought about it for a moment, noticing how Patton’s cheeks were already a tough too pink before deciding a little wouldn’t hurt.

“Sure, I suppose a glass would be fine.” Patton smiled at that, grabbing a wine-glass from the cabinet and providing a generous pour before handing it to Janus.

“Thank you,” Janus said, holding the glass to his lip and taking a dainty sip. Janus felt Patton’s eyes on him in a way he couldn’t ever recall them being. He was practically beaming on him, staring not with any kind of distaste but what Janus could only identify as unabashed fondness. The very idea was terrifying.

“So, do you do this often?” Janus asked, hoping the question might get Patton to stop staring at him like that, “Have a late-night drink, that is?” Patton shook his head, the action more forceful than necessary.

“Not too terribly often, no. Just something to take the edge of, y’know?” Patton said, taking a sip long enough to drain the rest of the glass. Janus noticed the way Patton’s hand trembled as he poured himself a second.

Ah, Patton was a lightweight, then. That explained why he didn’t like to have the others watch him while under the influence. To them, he was to some extent a father-figure and one who always wanted to do right by his “kiddos.” Perhaps he thought that being drunk and saying something “silly,” as he’d phrased it, could disrupt that somehow. Why, then, would he allow Janus to be with him now?

“I do,” Janus said, turning the words over in his mind. It was interesting to consider, Patton wanting to take the edge of. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t thought that Patton had just as many problems or stressors as the rest of them, it was just odd to contemplate, the fact that Patton was even telling him.

“And drinking alone helps? It takes the edge off?” Janus didn’t mean to sound cruel. It was just…sad to think about, really. Patton being too embarrassed to relax in front of the others, feeling like he could only do so by himself. Patton shrugged, the deep red liquid nearly sloshing out of his glass.

“I mean…yeah. It’s not always ideal – but that’s why it’s nice having a friend like you around! A drinking buddy!” Janus laughed at Patton’s enthusiasm, as well as at the idea that his presence was making Patton comfortable. That was reassuring, considering how long they’d had a distaste for one-another.

“Well then I’m happy to be of service,” Janus replied, only to find Patton clapping him on the back a touch too hard for his liking, the wine sloshing in his hand.

“Don’t say it like that. you’re not “of service” you’re – we’re friends. You’re my friend, I like having you around. I wish we’d been doing this years ago,” Patton said, sorrow blanked beneath the slight slur of his voice.

“I enjoy your company, too, Pat,” Janus said honestly, maybe too honestly, laughing fondly as he watched Patton set his glass down and hoist himself up so that he could sit on the counter.

“Oh! I see why Virgil likes this, sitting up here. And now I can do this,” Patton said with a giggle, reaching out and pulling Janus into a tight embrace, his legs wrapping around his waist. Janus stiffened, feeling every muscle in his body tense up. Patton was already incredibly affectionate while sober, but this? This was overwhelming, terrifying, even. Janus became hyper-aware of how hard his heart was beating, knowing it would be impossible for Patton to miss it what with him burying his face into his chest.

“Mm, you’re warm, an’ comfy, too. I like hugging you, Janny. Coulda been hugging you so long ago…” Patton had certainly never called Janus “Janny” before.

Patton trailed off, snuggling against him. Janus sighed, wrapping his arms around Patton’s shoulders and returning the embrace, despite the fear that was bubbling up in him. It was greedy, accepting this while Patton’s in such a state. He’d never be this outwardly affectionate if not for the alcohol, certainly not with Janus. Janus could feel the heat radiating off of the moral side as he peeked up from his chest and rested a hand on the left side of his face. Janus shuddered.

“Smooth, they’re smooth,” Patton said with a loopy smile, running his fingers along the scales slowly, “I always wanted to touch em. Can I touch em?”

“You already are, Patton,” Janus pointed out, not that it seemed like Patton was registering it.

“They’re cold, too. It feels so nice. And pretty. Have I ever told you how pretty your scales are, Janny?” Patton could feel the blood draining from his face, uncertain under Patton’s burning gaze.

“Uh – yes. Yes, I think you might’ve mentioned that,” Janus lied lamely, hoping it gets Patton to drop the issue. Patton shook his head.

“Nu-uh, I would have remembered that! Your scales are scalerific! Or something like that…” As it turned out, Patton’s sense of humor didn’t transfer over too well when he was intoxicated. Patton gasped as he lost his grip around Janus, nearly falling forward before Janus caught him and set him on his feet.

“I think it’s best that you go to bed,” Janus advised, taking the glass from Patton and allowing Patton to lean on him, his form noticeably trembling, “We wouldn’t want you to fall down, now would we?” Patton sighed.

"I guess not, but I must say I’m already falling for you,” Patton said, followed by a hiccup, “Gosh my head’s fuzzy…” Janus’s heartrate spiked at the joke, thinking, for a fleeting moment, what if? But such things were dangerous, and he knew that. Patton was drunk, and nothing he has to say should be taken too seriously.

Janus helped Patton down the hallway and into his bed, removing Patton’s shoes and cardigan. He snapped his fingers, placing Patton in a set of pale blue pajamas. It wasn’t anything Janus had ever imagined himself doing, tucking morality into bed, and yet here he was nearly losing his nerve enough to give him a goodnight kiss.

Janus had simply meant to help Patton to his room, but before he knew it he was tucking the blankets over him and placing a glass of water on the nightstand as well as some headache medication for the morning. He was about to get up and leave the room when Patton spoke, voice thick with exhaustion.

“You know, I like Janus. He’s so beautiful…” Janus froze, standing near Patton’s bedside, thankful he’d already shut the lights out.

“What are you –.”

“I love him.” The statement punched the air out of his lungs, nearly leaving him gasping for air. There was such a genuine, lovesick tone to Patton’s voice, as though he’d contemplated the notion of loving Janus for a long time and it was something he believed with the utmost sincerity.

“Don’t tell him, okay?” Janus didn’t know who Patton was convinced he was confiding in, he didn’t want to know. He needed to leave now, he needed to lie under the blankets and pray the memory away.

“Okay, Pat. I won’t.” Janus said breathlessly, walking to the door and shutting it. Janus’s back collided with the door as he slid to the floor, blinking back tears.

=+=

Janus slept very poorly through the night. Even in his fleeting moments of unconsciousness he was haunted by what Patton had said. I love him. he could still feel Patton’s hand against, the strangest mix of burning fire and tenderness he’d ever experienced. He should’ve left the kitchen when he found Patton, he shouldn’t have entertained his company, for God’s sake he shouldn’t have been stupid enough to fall for him.

Janus heard the sound of the others bustling around the kitchen and common room, but he stayed in bed, wondering how missed he would be if he just hid in his room for eternity. Surely if he tried it Remus would barge in and bother him, or Logan would tell him that he was being unproductive and not cooperating, or Virgil would make fun of him for being so useless, or Paton –

He couldn’t think about what Patton might do.

He would stay here until he had the strength to leave and face anyone, to face Patton. That might take a millennium.

There were knocks on his door that went unanswered. Whoever was on the other end didn’t seem to care enough to check on him, which was just fine as far as Janus was considered. This was punishment for the fact that he’d been foolish enough to endear himself to Patton and he was paying a price most severe. For so long now he’d been ignoring the dull ache in his chest whenever Patton was around, but it could go unaddressed no longer. Not when the spark of a flame had become an inferno.

It was not a strict necessity for a side to eat, so Janus went without meals, deciding instead to stew in his misery. He’d been torturing himself in Patton’s presence, he realized somberly. Every brush against him, every embrace, every moment shared together hurt him a little deeper until those three little words drove him to agony.

This pain would eat him from the inside. Janus had wondered occasionally what it might feel like to be in love in the past. He’d never imagined it would be such a detrimental pain and he pitied those who sought it out. He pitied himself.

“Janus?” Patton’s soft voice on the other side of the door startled Janus out of a trance, disgusted to realize he’d been crying. Janus scrubbed at his face, untangling himself from the bedsheets.

“I haven’t seen you at all since…well, I’m worried. Can I come in?” Janus felt his pulse hammering in his ear, praying that Patton would leave him rot.

"No, I’m – I don’t want any company right now, thanks.” He cursed the weakness his voice betrayed. Since when had he been so pitiful?

"Janus, you’re hurting. I know you are, and I want to help, if I can. Please, let me in?” Janus sighed in defeat, knowing Patton’s persistence and damned good heart wouldn’t allow him to leave well enough alone. He’d stay there until Janus let him in, no matter how long that took. Keeping him waiting would only be staving off the inevitable.

Janus trudged to the door, pulling it back to reveal a terribly concerned looking Patton.

“I’m fine, Pat, nothing to concern yourself with,” Janus muttered, wondering how he’d ever been known as Deceit considering how abysmal that lie was.

“No you aren’t,” Patton said, his voice soft and sad, “I can see you’ve been crying…Jan, please, tell me what’s going on? Or don’t, if you don’t want to. I don’t want to pressure you it’s just…I’ve been really worried and trying to give you space but then you didn’t come out of your room for so long and I just…I had to come and check on you.” Janus sighed, walking to his bed and all but collapsing onto it. Patton sighed as he shut the door and sat beside him.

“I’ve done something to upset you, haven’t I?” Patton asked after a moment of bitter silence. Janus exhaled, his eyes landing on the floor.

“It’s not your fault. You don’t need to worry about it.” Patton shook his head, gingerly placing a hand on Janus’s shoulder, reminding him ever too much of how touchy-feely he’d been. “Of course I need to worry. I’m so sorry for whatever I said to you, Janus. I can’t even imagine; that’s exactly why I don’t like to drink in front of anyone. I get so silly. Gosh, I remember I touched your scales…I’m really sorry. I didn’t even ask, I was so rude.” Janus wondered if this would be his demise? Patton’s kindness, his apologetic nature despite the fact he clearly didn’t remember the things he’d said, didn’t mean them.

“It’s fine. As I said, you don’t need to worry about it. I know you didn’t mean it anyway.” And if Janus had ever had an oh shit moment in all his life, this was definitely it. Patton cocked his head, his grip on his shoulder tightening just barely.

“Didn’t mean it? Janus what – what did I tell you?” Janus swatted Patton’s hand away, half-expecting to demand Patton leave his room at any time now. He couldn’t take this kind of love, he hadn’t been built to carry it and at this rate he was bound to break down.

“Patton please, just don’t.”

“Jan, what did I tell you? I can see that you’re hurting. I don’t want to hurt you ever again. Please don’t let me hurt you.”

Janus cursed himself as he felt the tears welling up behind his eyes again, wondering when he’d gotten to be so soft. The others would laugh knowing he’d become so infiltrated with sentimentality and longing; he used to be so much stronger before this love.

“You…” he swallowed, wondering if half of the truth might suffice, “you said my scales were pretty. And you, uh, called me Janny, which you don’t usually do. That’s all.” After an uncomfortable moment of silence Janus dared to meet Patton’s eyes, finding, to his surprise, a great deal of terror flickering in them.

“That isn’t all, though, is it? I told you…didn’t I?” “Told me what?” Janus asked dumbly. He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean it…there was just no way.

“Oh my gosh, I did. I thought it had been a dream,” Patton said quickly, his voice pained, “And now I’ve made you uncomfortable. I was so excited we were finally friends, and I’ve gone and ruined it.” Janus’s mind was ringing out with What if’s and Maybe’s, the tiniest bit of hope welling inside of him. Patton seemed so frightened and sad, and despite all that he’d been feeling, it was horrible to see Patton in a similar state.

“Patton…the thing you told me, the thing you asked me to promise not tell, well, myself? Did…did you mean it?” Patton’s eyes finally met his again, glossy and wide.

“With all my heart.” And that, it seemed, was all it took to cut Janus lose from his nerves. He cupped Patton’s face in his hands, the skin warm and faintly pink with a blush.

“Me too,” Janus said finally, smiling wider than he had in what seemed like forever. Their lips connected hesitantly, just a brush before Janus felt Patton relax into the embrace, digging his fingers into his hair and pulling him closer. Janus hummed against Patton’s lips as the moral side depended the kiss, edging on desperate. The pair collapsed onto the bed, a tangle of limbs sharing frenzied, passionate kisses Janus hadn’t even dared to dream about before. Even if he had, this surely would’ve exceeded all expectations.

“I love you, Janny,” Patton said breathlessly as they parted pulling him close, “I really, really love you.”

“I love you too, Pat,” Janus gasped as Patton pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his pulse-point, his mind still reeling, feeling Patton’s hands on him. “I never thought – I mean, considering how things were for so long. Fuck, I’ve got to get you drunk again, I’d love to hear what else you have to say.”

“Language, sweetheart,” Patton scolded, peppering Janus’s neck with kisses that were going to be hard enough to leave a mark if he kept at it. Janus hoped he kept at it.

“You really think they’re pretty? My scales, I mean. Not – not that I care.” Patton giggled, moving so that he was straddling Janus and pushing him down into the mattress.

“Of course I do, cutie,” Patton said, pressing a kiss to the left side of Janus’s face, earning a moan from the deceitful side because, damn, he’d never imagined that would feel as good as it did. He ran his hand along the smooth scales slowly, stopping when he’d reached the collar of his shirt. “How far down your body do your scales go?” Janus arched his back to capture Patton’s lips in a burning kiss.

“Only one way to find out.” Patton grinned more mischievously than he’d ever imagined was possible.

“Oh, that sounds like an exscalent idea,” Patton said, barely giving Janus enough time to register the pun before his hands were on him again and Janus was very much doubting that this love would be his downfall. No, he would embrace this, nature these feelings as much as possible. Janus had never been one in favor of vulnerability but with Patton, he was fairly certain he’d bear every ugly, wretched part of his soul if it meant he could have him.

Janus would always be thankful he’d walked in on Patton in the kitchen, thinking of all he’d be missing out on if he hadn’t.

=+=

[lineffability]

May I ask for a drabble of Aziraphale being introduced to Crowley's plants, please?

“This is… where you live?”

Aziraphale stood in the doorway with absolute horror in his eyes, a kind of horror that not even the Reign of Terror had been able to produce, perhaps because back then the promise of crêpes had cancelled out most of his brain functions. Reluctantly, he took a small step into the flat. Or warehouse. Bunker. Whatever this was. 

“Nope! Never seen this place before, actually. Just broke in for the fun of it; who needs permanent housing anyway? Where’s the fun in that?” When the expression of horror on the angel’s face only deepened, Crowley rolled his eyes behind his dark sunglasses. “Yes, angel, I live here.” 

“But… it’s dreadful!” Aziraphale cried, genuinely scandalized. 

Crowley grinned. “Why, thank you.”

“That’s, that’s not–oh, Crowley.” He sighed. 

Crowley snaked out of Aziraphale’s way as the angel cautiously foraged into the flat, as if treading on unholy ground. In a way he supposed he was, though the aesthetics of the place evoked not Hell, but another unearthly place, one he was all too familiar with. One he had tried very much to shut out of his own living space. 

The style, he believed, was called ‘minimalistic’: minimal furniture, minimal decoration, minimal love. Lots of empty space.

As Aziraphale walked along the narrow, grey corridor, he peeked through a half-open door to his right and caught a glimpse of green: a little houseplant, sitting forlornly on a table. He furrowed his brows, but walked on. 

His concentrated silence made Crowley nervous, who caught up to the angel’s side with a long stride to inspect the angelic face. Which, the demon realized, had fixed onto a sculpture. That sculpture.

Well.

Aziraphale turned his face to the demon, his expression–well, rather expressionless. If you looked close enough, you might have found a spark of heavenly glee hidden at the very back of his eyes. 

“They’re wrestling,” Crowley clarified after a moment, brows rising pointedly.

“Ah.” Aziraphale said. He said nothing more. He didn’t need to. 

When he turned his back on Crowley to walk on, the demon bared his teeth. For a moment he considered opening up a hole beneath himself and sinking into it. This desire only intensified when, suddenly, Aziraphale paused and then very decidedly walked towards… his plants.

“Crowley, whatever do you have in there that feels so, so…”

“Don’t say it!”

Loved. Aziraphale didn’t say it, but they both knew nonetheless.   

Then the angel rounded the corner and laid eyes on the most lush, verdant and tall houseplants in all of England. Also, perhaps, the only ones that shivered.

Loved, but also terrified. 

Aziraphale glanced at Crowley. “This is your work?”

The demon was not used to hear those words in this context. Usually they were uttered with indignation, disbelief, accusation–only to be diffused, regularly, by a variation of No! That wasn’t me! They thought it up themselves!

But now Aziraphale spoke them tenderly, with soft surprise, and Crowley clenched his hands at his sides. Then he shook off the angel’s loving gaze, and straightened his shoulders.

“If you see any flaws on them, angel,” he announced loudly. “Any at all–then tell me.” He swept the room with hellfire in his eyes.

“But they’re perfect!”

“Nothing is perfect!” Crowley shot back with a hiss, “Which is unfortunate, because I only accept perfection. So let’s see”–here he addressed the plants again, which were visibly trying to grow–“who will be the next to come last in this eternal race that you can only, sooner or later, lose. You know what awaits any and all plants that leave this room: the garbage disposal.”

The words settled with dull finality, though if Crowley had chosen to add an Evil Villain Laugh at any point during his speech, now surely would have been the time. He looked like he was considering it. 

Except, as per usual, his plans were thwarted. 

“But back there I just saw–” Aziraphale’s eyes widened almost comically as a hand suddenly clamped his mouth shut. 

“You saw the plant shredder, yes,” Crowley continued for him, “big and scary and always…hungry.” He let that settle in the room, not taking his hand off the angel’s face. The plants stood stockstill. (The poor things were so easily deceived.)

Aziraphale, however, wiggled his way out from under Crowley’s grip. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale’s hand brushed across the same spot where the demon’s had just now lingered. “Very well. I will not– I will– Well let me just say, I for one think you are beautiful!” he declared to the room, and Crowley hissed behind him. “You too, dear.”

“That’s– that’s not what–” Crowley gave up. No point arguing with (self-)righteousness itself. 

It was only later, when they were sitting on a couch–a soft and beige Rennaissance-style two-seater that had suddenly materialized in the living room, to Crowley’s horror–with a bottle of wine, that Aziraphale said, pointedly: “You threaten your plants?”

“Yeah, well, makes ‘em grow better.”

“Didn’t know you were one for empty threats, though…being a wily demon…”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“You do. You love them.”

“Don’t use that clean word around me, angel!”

Aziraphale smiled, mercifully. “Well, they are lovely, either way. It had me wondering, though–this flat.” He motioned towards the room, holding, apart from the miracle couch, only a small grey desk, a wall-mounted tv, a throne Aziraphale wisely refrained from commenting on, and a sketch of the Mona Lisa*. “The plants seem to be an expection. Why is it… like this?“ You’re a demon. Aren’t you supposed to be–greedy? Why was this space… ascetic?

*(Oh, he had been a lovely young man, Salai. The sketch really did him justice, perhaps more so than the finished work.) 

Crowley took a long sip from his glass. His voice was carefully casual, when he spoke again. “Ah, it‘s just cramped. Down there. ‘S all.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, who was suddenly looking anywhere else. And realization fell like scales from his eyes. He understood. And softened. “I see,” he merely said, but he said it quietly, and his eyes, themselves now averted, said Oh. Oh, I should have understood sooner. I know exactly how you feel.

He thought of his bookshop, of the cramped but warm space that was comfy in all the ways that Heaven was so very Not. And suddenly the clean and empty space around him didn’t look so dreadfull to him at all. It looked like a very own brand of Demonic Design. 

It looked like choices. 

[knight-ingale]

Chapter 2, Seeing the Rain

A/N: Hey guys, hope you like chapter two! I wanted to write more in this one chapter, but I don’t have the first book with me right now, and I reaaally want Jessica’s quotes accurate, so this will be all until sometime next month! ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---~---~---~---~---~---~--- *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Despite the unfamiliar noise of rain and wind against the roof and walls of the house you had managed to fall asleep before midnight. You slept much more soundly than you thought you would. Then again, you were much better at adapting to the weather changes during your summer visits than Bella was. All that being said, you were still anxious for the oncoming day as you fell into slumber.

You woke up to the thick, misty fog clouding the world outside the cold pane of your window. It almost looked like the cloudy sky had descended onto the wet terrain of your new world.

Getting dressed was easy since you had set out your clothes the night before. The clothes you had picked were warm, or as warm as you could manage considering your meager wardrobe, and as inconspicuous as you could manage. You weren’t one to wear neon-bright colors to begin with, so it wasn’t difficult. Thinking as you dressed, you picked back up on your train of thought from last night. How much attention would you and Bella attract? Usually, you and your sister’s presence wasn’t something to worry about. The beginning of the year brought new students, no matter what school year was beginning or where. The schools in Phoenix were always crowded and bustling, so two new students wouldn’t turn any heads. But here? Things were drastically different from Arizona. Like Bella had said, everyone here had grown up together for generations. There was already a complex connection between families and social circles that had remained unchanged for years! You almost had to forcibly shake the thoughts from your head as you slipped on your shoes and grabbed your backpack to go downstairs.

You took the short staircase two steps at a time, landing softly at the bottom without falling over. Bella and Charlie were already sitting down at the square table in the kitchen when you got all the way down, both with a plate of fried eggs in front of them with another in the empty spot in between them. You sat down with a small smile and hello before picking up your fork eating in the continued quietness surrounding the three of you. Charlie finished his eggs and stood up from his seat to wash his plate. He turns around at the sink when he’s done to face you and Bella. 

“Well,” he says, “I hope you two have a good day at school.” You swallow your eggs and smile, 

“Thanks, Dad. Have a good day at work.” 

“Thanks, Dad,” Bella says. Despite her thanks, you knew she was less than optimistic. Charlie nods to you both before patting all his pockets and making sure he has everything before leaving. Once he’s out the door, you continue to eat your eggs. You and Bella finish quickly, but Bella decides to stay a little longer. You were already early enough, so you decided waiting a little longer wouldn’t be too bad. Bella sat at the table, peering into the living room as you got up to wash both your plates.

“You ready to go?” you ask, drying your hands off on a towel as you turn around to your sister. Bella breaks her gaze from the pictures on the fireplaces mantel and turns to you, 

“Yeah, let’s get going. Don’t want to be late on the first day, right?” Her smile is more of a grimace, but you laugh at her attempt at humor. You grab your bag from the wooden seat as Bella flicks off the kitchen light. She takes a deep breath before opening the door, swinging the barrier open to the drizzling skies outside. 

You stepped out to greet the chilly air first, walking out from the cover of the overhanging roof to look up at the downcast sky and the peaks of the tall trees. The light rain on your face was quickly waking you up, the wet air filling your air with rejuvenating energy. Once Bella had locked the door, she hurried her way past you to the truck, pulling you out of your moment. Bella hops in the truck before you get to your side, unlocking the door for you. You climb into your own seat and try to close the heavy door without slamming it, to not much avail. On the upside, the truck was clean on the inside! There were a few faint, mysterious stains on the carpet beneath your feet, but that was all. The inside also smelled nice, like fresh peppermint and a little bit of gasoline. Unfortunately, the truck did have one draw-back, and that would be the roaring engine that nearly made you jump out of your skin. Both you and Bella jumped in your seats, sharing a surprised look. 

“Well, a vehicle this old is bound to have a flaw, I guess,” Bella grumbles. You shrug and reach for the radio. To your delight, the practically ancient device was functional! You let the radio play quietly as Bella drives.

 A plus to living in a small town, it was pretty easy to find the school. Of course, it’s pretty easy to find since it was just off the highway like almost anything that wasn’t a residential area. The buildings were so vastly different from your school back in Arizona, you almost wouldn’t have recognized it as a school building if it weren’t for the sign. There were no chain-link fences around the property, no metal detectors, not a single cop car. Bella decided to park right in front of the first building labeled ‘Front Office’. You hop out of the passenger side easily, leaving the warmth of the cab for the misty air outside. Bella followed with much more reluctance than you to follow the little stone path up to the doors. You stop with her right before, watching her take an anxious breath before opening the door.

Inside the office was warm and cozy, dressed to be a little waiting room with ugly orange carpet and only somewhat comfy looking folding chairs against the walls. And, for some reason, there were a bunch of plants. Why so many plants? Just set them outside, they’d never forget to water them that way. 

You followed Bella up to one of three desks, the one manned by a middle-aged, redhead wearing glasses that were slipping down the bridge of her nose. She looks up at you and your sister with a polite smile, 

“Can I help you?” 

“I’m Isabella Swan,” Bella informs her. You lean closer to Bella’s side to be in the woman’s line of sight, 

“I’m Y/N Swan,” You add. Immediately, recognition sparks behind her eyes.

“Of course,” She says. She turns her chair slightly to her side to dig through a spire of papers. “I have your schedules right here, and maps of the school.” She brings out several papers in each hand, addressing your sister first. When she finishes with Bella, she waves you forward to explain your schedule and draw some paths from class to class. She looks up to both of you when she’s done, “You two have a good day!” You smile back and thank her before turning to leave.

When you get back to the truck, other students were beginning to arrive. You both get back into the truck to follow the line of traffic to the student parking. You finally park and Bella immediately switches off the obscenely loud engine. Bella stuffs all her papers into her backpack before leaning back against the back of the seat’s head-rest, eyes closed and head tipped upwards as she sighs.

“Hey.” Bella turns her head to the side to look at you, “You can do this, Bells. No one is gonna bite you.” She scoffs at your encouragement, but you just grin, “Hey, if they do, you can just bite ‘em back!” Your joke gets her to chuckle. She takes a deep breath,

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

You both step out of the truck onto the black pavement. You have to steady Bella as you hop over the lip of the sidewalk since the nearly trips on it. Before you part ways, you pull her into a hug, 

“My first class is in building two. We meet up at the truck at the end of the day, right?” Bella nods in affirmation before letting go. “Alright, you later Bells. Try not to fall on anyone,” you jest mischievously. Your sister rolls her eyes, 

“I’ll do my best, later jerk,” she mumbles. You watch her walk away for a moment before turning to make your way to your own building.

Your first class was English, so hopefully, it would be an okay class to start the day off with. You had your hands shoved into your jacket pockets, anxiously fiddling with a gum wrapper you had forgotten about. As brave as you had seemed compared to your sister, someone could assume you to be fearless, which is a total lie. You’re anxious as all get out! Even as you walked to your class, you had anxious butterflies doing karate in your stomach.

Once you made it to your classrooms open door, you noticed how small the classroom really is. Since it was one of the classrooms closer to the middle of the building, there are no windows. The desks were set in clusters rather than rows and the teacher’s desk was in the front corner of the room. The few students who were already there were hanging up their jackets and parkas, but you bypassed them to speak to the teacher, a slightly short woman with light brown hair. 

“Um, excuse me,” you ask. The teacher looks up and stares in surprise. “I, uh, the front desk says you need to sign this slip?” You hold it out to her and she grabs it, 

“Ah,” she realizes, “you’re the new student, Y/n Swan, correct?” She scribbles her signature in the first-hour box and smiles as she hands it back to you, “I’m Mrs. Hannson, I hope you enjoy this class! I actually have some papers for you, the syllabus and all that.” You nod as she turns to a pile on her desk, pulling out a small and neatly paper-clipped stack of papers. She hands it to you and you smile, nodding along as she explains, “You’ll be sitting over there,” she points to a cluster of desks, “with group three.”

You sat down in your seat, greeting the one person already there, a girl with short, coppery-brown hair and freckles. She looks up at you through round glasses and away from her work, a sketchy drawing of a landscape. 

“Hey,” she greets you warmly, “You’re Y/n Swan, right?” You flush. You knew coming to a new school with such a small populace had the possibility of being news, but you had no idea everyone would know you before you even walked through the doors!

“Ah, yeah. It seems like I won’t have to introduce myself since everyone already knows my name,” you joked. She laughs, but it’s more in understanding than humor.

“Yeah, sorry. Small town, big news, you know?” You sigh and nod. “Oh, my name’s Alana by the way, but everyone just calls my Lana.” you talk as more students file into the classroom. That is until loud boys sit in the chair next to you. One is average height and had rusty auburn hair, paired with pale blue eyes and skin pale enough to rival Snow White, maybe even your sister. The other was tall, at least 5’9, and had curly brown hair on top with shorn-down sides. His eyes were dark brown, but they were alight with mischief and boyish energy, matching the pale blue irises of his apparent friend. 

“Hey there,” the brown-eyed boy greeted you, “You’re one of the new girls.” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement.

“Yup, Y/n Swan,” you answer. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Cole,” he smiles at you. You politely nod before your attention is turned to the red-headed boy, 

“I’m Luke, by the way,” he states, sitting back in his chair. The four of you talk past the bell, only stopping when Mrs. Hannson begins the class.

The next class was History in building four, which went by fairly quickly, as did all your other classes. You were honestly just excited for lunch to hit. You were hungry! According to your schedule, you assumed all students went to lunch at the same time, given there was no labeling of alphabetical or numerical lunches. It seemed so strange. Could all four grades really fit in one lunchroom? Then again, your school back in Phoenix had a much larger population than Forks High School.

The bell to your fourth hour rang, and everyone started to pack up to migrate towards the cafeteria building. Luckily for you, Lana from your  first hour was in this class, sociology. The pair of you made small talk about classes and such as you walked outside into the drizzling rain. When you entered the dryness of the cafeteria, you looked around for your sister. You bid Lana farewell and made your way around the large eating area with no actual idea where you were going until you spotted your sister sitting at a table with a strangely large amount of people for her first day.

“Hey Bells!” you call out. Your voice wasn’t loud enough to call any attention to you, but it did seem to catch her attention. She turns her head and looks relieved to see you. Bella gives you a little wave and the girl she was presumably talking to earlier turns her head to look at you. Bella scoots a bit to open up a seat and you sit next to her, leaning forward with your arms crossed on the table to see the mystery girl beside your sister. “Hey there,” you greet with a friendly smile. She smiles back, 

“Hey! You’re Bella’s little sister, right?” You nod,

“Yup, that’s me. My name is Y/n, but it seems like everybody already knows that I guess,” you chuckled. The dark haired girl laughs,

“Yeah, it’s gonna be like that for a little bit. New people are exciting in a small town and all that,” she shrugs. You nod in agreement, “Anyways, my name is Jessica, nice to meet you!”

You and Jessica have barely introduced yourselves when you notice Bella looking away from the conversation, positively enraptured by something else. You look over to your sisters line of sight in confusion, 

“Bella, what are you looking at?” your confusion dissolves quickly into awe when you see what she sees. Five horrendously beautiful people walk into the room.