#she loves to tease Patty

[dadsbongos]

my wife is cool, understanding, and goes with the flow

5.7 k words / warnings - fem reader (+referred to as mother/wife), chilchuck's emotional turmoil (he's so in love and so incapable of verbalizing it)

summary - general strings of yours and chilchuck's marriage. good to bad to making up.

~~~

“You know,” you whisper, “If you ignore how nightmarish they were to raise, then they’re kinda perfect kids.”

Chilchuck snorts, letting you hang off his arm as you stand in the doorway to your living room.

Meijack and Flertom are strewn across the couch in opposite directions, Flertom’s feet dangling off an armrest and Meijack’s in her sister’s face. Thankfully, Flertom is not awake to notice the violation of personal space. Puckpatti is curled on the floor before the couch, long auburn hair flayed out and draped over her arms, which she uses as a makeshift pillow.

The front door is wide open, gentle pittering rain having lulled the girls to sleep. Puckpatti had been the one to suggest a ‘slumber party’ in the common space as it rained, even likening the cool air and atmospheric petrichor to camping to incite Meijack. As far as you know, however, none of the girls have been camping, so you’re mystified how that reasoning actually worked.

“Mei and Fler are so big now,” he muses, “Mei thinks she’s ready for the adult world now.”

“As if,” you lay your cheek on his shoulder, silently wishing he’d take the opportunity to kiss your temple. He does not, “We were barely ready when we had them. How’s a nine-year-old prepared for that?”

“That’s what I’m asking.”

Meijack, as if sensing her parents’ lighthearted jabs, rolls over with a grumble and hum, flinging a foot into Flertom’s nose. The younger twin’s face wrinkles in protest, head jerking in the opposite direction -- you and Chilchuck freeze, anticipating a shrill cry, until Flertom relaxes again. The sigh of relief is short, though.

Abruptly, Chilchuck goes rigid, jolting you off him, “Why is Patti on the floor? Like a dog?”

“How am I supposed to know what goes on in that kid’s brain?”

Chilchuck shakes his head and steps over the young girl to shut your front door. Squeaky hinges pull a whine from Patti herself, drowsily rubbing her eyes and calling, “Papa, don’t shut it!”

“What? You want a troll to get in?” he asks sarcastically.

“No,” Puckpatti answers in earnest.

“That’s why Papa wants the door shut,” you kneel by your youngest daughter, brushing back her bangs just to watch her eyebrows scrunch cutely, “So no nasty trolls can get inside…” then you remember your husband’s complaint, “Patti, baby, do you wanna sleep in a chair? Or a bed? The ground doesn’t look very nice to rest on.”

“Yeah, Mama’s right. The ground’s gonna mess up your back,” Chilchuck joins you, ready to scoop up your daughter when she shakes her head.

“Wanna stay by Mei and Fler…” she pouts.

“Okay, but let me set out some more blankets, alright?” you kiss her on the forehead once, then twice when she beams and nods.

Chilchuck is already standing to retrieve spare blankets from your closet, he’s back before you can impede the hallway. He stops you from venturing further by propping a leg in front of you, “Don’t worry about it, I got everything.”

“She’ll need a real pillow, too, honey.”

“Yeah,” he taps at your ankles with his foot until you’re relenting, turning back towards the living room, “I said I got it.”

“Thank goodness for my big, strong man, huh?”

“I am the breadwinner,” he teases, granting you a kiss on the cheek before dropping to lay the blankets out as a makeshift mattress for Puckpatti.

“Self-imposed!” you rasp, stage-swatting at his back, “I could get a job, too!”

“Do you want to?” you want to smack the smug grin off his lips, specifically with your own. In a kiss. For a long while.

“...no.”

He laughs at your sudden shyness. Tempered down only to avoid waking your daughters, “There you go.”

“Boo,” you pull Chilchuck to a stand by the back of his shirt. You pull, and pull, and pull, and you don’t stop until he’s tumbling on top of you into your shared bed, with your door haphazardly kicked shut, “You’re mean to me.”

“I’m mean?!” he whisper-shouts, instantly more affectionate in how he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your neck, “You choked me, yanking on my shirt like that.”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?”

“Barely,” he abruptly goes limp, “I’m half dead.”

“Half dead isn’t a thing, Chil,” you giggle, trying halfheartedly to shove him off.

“It is, I’m half dead,” he insists, “There’s only one way to revive me.”

“Uh-huh… and that is?”

“A kiss,” Chilchuck lifts his head to look you in the eyes, suggestively bumping his eyebrows, “A sloppy one.”

“No!” you gasp, dramatically.

“Loud and wet,” he nods in even measures, clicking his tongue, “Only way, I guess. Really tough for you.”

“I don’t know about that,” you wiggle out an arm from beneath his body to poke his cheek, “You seem fine now. Very lively and talkative!”

“Means I’m dying faster. It’s the final burst of energy before I shit my pants and die.”

“Ew!” your shout is smothered beneath Chilchuck’s hand, his laughter rumbling your body, forehead digging into your collarbones.

Between choked chuckles Chilchuck manages out a meek, “sorry, sorry!” he gasps for breath and releases your mouth, “That was gross.”

“Yeah, now get off me. You’re nasty.”

“See? You’re mean to me, one mention of shit and I’m just an expendable stud.”

As soon as Chilchuck rolls off you and onto his back, you’re crowding onto him, pawing at his chest and kissing his cheek, “You are a stud.”

“Can I get a kiss for that, at least?”

“I just kissed you, greedy.”

His deadpan stare inspires a bizarre longing in your thumping chest, you stretch to grant his wish. Chilchuck’s hands cup your cheek, holding you close to prolong the kiss as long as you’ll allow. Such restless and selfish want is reserved for behind closed doors, which you wish you could understand, but you don’t.

You’re preoccupied with the dread of death. Half-foots are blessed to live past fifty. Sure, you and Chilchuck are merely scratching at twenty, but life is too short for him to be shy about these things.

“I wish you’d be more open and lovey.”

“Hm?” he hums against your lips, pulling away to stare at you strangely, “Why?”

“‘Why?’” you mock, “I’m your wife! That’s why.”

Instinctually, Chilchuck goes to wave off the answer as a joke and roll his eyes, but then something barks. Both of you pause, heads turning slowly towards the now gaping door to find a shaggy white puppy standing in the dim space. Swiftly, its tail wags, and it barks again before charging towards your bed.

Your screech at the dash rouses Chilchuck from his shock. Clumsily shuffling so he’s in front of you, taking the brunt of the dog’s pounce.

“Since when do we have a dog?!” Chilchuck looks over his shoulder at you, as if you’d know.

“As if I know!” you parrot your thoughts, breath slowing to a calm when the small dog cuddles your husband’s arms, “Kinda cute though, right?”

“He broke in!” Chilchuck accuses, lifting a shoulder to prevent you petting it -- his plan fails miserably and you’re easily scratching behind the dog’s ears, “He could have ticks! He could’ve bit the girls on his way back here!”

“No,” you whine, resting your chin on Chilchuck’s shoulder, “He has a friendly face, he’d never do that!”

“And you know that how…?”

“Aw, Chil, honey, have a heart! He was probably scared of the rain and snuck inside to get away from it!” you reach under the dog’s head to now scritch his chin, “Which is our fault for leaving the door open, isn’t it?” you’re already a lost cause to logic, repeating back to the puppy, “Isn’t it? Yes, it is! Yes, it is! He understands me! He’s so smart, Chil, we have to keep him.”

His silent glowering makes you wilt over his back.

You retreat from the dog to hug your husband from behind, “C’mon, have a heart!”

Irritation pulses through Chilchuck at the turn of tonight’s events. Everything before this dumb dog felt natural, smooth, and familiar. Until you said that.

One thing that makes his heart rate spike. Even though, at twenty, it means very little to him.

‘I wish you’d be more open and lovey.’

He knows this means more.

“Okay, okay,” he eases, snatching a chaste smooch from you before combing a hand down the dog’s soft fur, “I’ll work on it.”

You two never had a dog, though.

Puckpatti is allergic -- you never would’ve gotten a dog since it’d cause your daughter so much distress.

What’s in his arms isn’t a dog, but it isn’t a mimic.

What’s in his arms isn’t a dog because this isn’t real.

.

.

.

Chilchuck’s eyes drift open, a dusty ceiling stares down at him. Slowly, a crushing weight is relieved from his stomach.

Blonde and black hair mingle in his peripherals, then Laios is leaning over him obnoxiously, speaking to the other two while looking at the half-foot, “Does Chil sleep with his eyes open?”

“No,” Chilchuck takes initiative, shoving Laios away by the chin and sitting up with a yawn. His back cracks unpleasantly, and eye crust pokes into his fluttering lids. Rubbing the gross clots away, Chilchuck settles his elbows onto his knees before resting that way -- leaning into his hands even after his eyes have been cleared out.

For a moment, he silently mourns the fading images of his dream; already having forgotten the beginning. No matter how desperately he clings to the story, it escapes, leaking out his ears until all there is left to mourn is the fact he’s awake.

All he knows is that dream ended differently than it should have. Hopefully the ending this time was better than real life, not that it matters. He wouldn’t remember, nor would it change the fact that in reality you two are not together.

“Chilchuck? Are you okay?” Marcille sounds hesitant. Worried.

The last thing he needs is her fretting and prying into what his Nightmare could’ve been about, so instead he lamely says, “Tired.”

“Oh, okay,” she sounds entirely unconvinced. He’s surprised when she doesn’t push.

He’s further surprised when Laios does, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

…

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Chil’,” you croon, hands curling around the man’s waist as he silently uncorks a bottle of cheap wine. He makes sure not to jostle you off as he moves the dark glass to his lips, even cupping your overlapping hands with one of his own to steady you, “You should talk to me about these things!”

“It was fine, we went in -- got what we needed -- got out. I’m back and alive.”

‘Alive’ strikes you, it sticks in the back of your head as soon as he says it. Your arms tighten around his slim waist, the slots of his ribs dig into your forearms and it makes your chest tighten. Swirling thoughts colliding and dragging each other deeper and deeper into your darker concerns: Chilchuck starving himself to maintain an unhealthy weight, Chilchuck burning calories in a revival, Chilchuck having to drink himself under just to fall asleep.

“Would you tell me if you died?”

“Why would you want to know that?” he laughs, yet you’re frowning into his back.

You bite your lip until raw iron spills onto your tongue, gnawing it with the anxiety of how to soften this question. How marshmallowy can you make your tone to avoid lecturing while also not patronizing him? Eventually, you settle on just spitting it out,

“Would you even remember it?” he hums, confused, “You drink a lot, Chil’.”

He squeezes your hands, setting down his wine to turn in your hold, now cupping your cheeks -- flush with upset and ready to dampen with tears, “I don’t get blackout on jobs, you know?”

“But,” you don’t want to pester him, to drive him away from home even during his off time, “Chil’, honey, you’re… with your weight, alcohol could- well- !”

“I know,” he interrupts your stammering, drawing a thumb across the apples of your face tenderly. Though his posture is rigid, and his next statement confirms your suspicion that he just wants to stop talking about this, “I appreciate you looking out for me, but really, don’t think so much about it. Work’s not worth talking about at home. And my drinking is totally recreational, I want to enjoy myself and unwind, is that so bad?”

“No,” you heave with defeat, now planting your forehead against his shoulder. Clenching his shirt in a bunch, you squeeze and squeeze and squeeze hoping it’ll squash out any thoughts of continuing to nag his drinking. It’ll end the same way it always does.

Chilchuck is fine because work is fine and his drinking is fine and his diet is fine because Chilchuck is perfectly perpetually fine.

You’re just a worrywart wife. Your kids are grown, having flown the coop, and you’re going mad in loneliness. You should think less. You should learn to be fine like your husband.

…

“Woah, no way! They want to meet me?”

“Uh-huh,” Chilchuck’s eyes trail after you as you rush from one end of the room to the other, clicking jewelry clasps and snapping buttons into place as you go, “It’s nothing to dress up over,” when you seem to ignore him, he only gets louder, “We’re gonna be late, you know?”

Let me dress up! is what you want to snap at him, but you don’t. Instead, you let those comments join the many others from him that rattle around in the back of your mind like rocks.

“I want to make a good impression,” you finally utter, “It isn’t like you tell me anything about work, I’m excited to meet your friends! Besides, if you wanted me to be more prepared then you should’ve said something earlier.”

“I get it,” and in a bid to be polite, but just coming out tumbling into the rock pile is, “If you had work friends, I’d wanna meet them, too.”

The obvious dig is that you don’t get out. Now that the girls are older and independently caring for themselves, you could more easily find work… the problem lies in how you don’t really want to. You’d be too scared of Chilchuck returning home to an empty house, whenever it is that he does come home.

The hidden dig is that he’s fibbing, he would never want to meet your friends like you want to meet his.

Nevertheless, you tuck a white hyacinth cob into your hair and head for the spot Chilchuck claims his group frequents for after-work drinks. Before tonight, it never really occurred to you that Chilchuck might be grabbing drinks with other people. Not that such an idea alone is what bothers you, rather that he’s out so often and for so long potentially enjoying himself while you’re stuck at home sick over whether he’s alive.

Upon arrival, a pair of tallmen greet you both. Smiles light up their faces, cheeks balling with glee, when their eyes spot you. It should probably be embarrassing how quickly such an insignificant act can get you excited. You wave and they wave back.

“Gonna introduce the lovely lady?” the slightly taller one, black haired with stubble stretching down his neck, prompts.

“We should get to the table first,” Chilchuck reaches for the door, holding it open for you.

(if you were presenting Chilchuck to your friends then you’d repeat yourself introducing him ad infinitum with shining pride, but you add that thought to your rock collection)

“This is my wife,” Chilchuck pulls out your chair for you, waiting until you’re sat before adding your name and sitting beside you, “Hope she’s everything you all hoped for.”

You choose to ignore that. Preferring to strike conversation with his friends until,

“You know,” the blonde woman at the head of the table leans forward, you’ve been rudely trying to avoid looking at her. But how can you blame yourself when she stares at your husband with such a sultry, lidded gaze, “I think you were exaggerating how spacey she is, Chilchuck. Adorable thing’s been keyed into our conversation the whole time.”

Chilchuck grumbles into his rapidly emptying mug of ale, then locking eyes with the blonde woman, “You don’t live with her.”

“Hey!” you sound bratty and grating with the whine, but your spirit feels worse, “Is that what you tell them about me?”

“And clumsy,” the gnome directly across from you chirps.

“But!” the black-haired one from earlier interrupts, apparently sensing your drowning mood, “You’re a good mom! Great, even!”

“Oh,” the compliment does very little to satiate you, given what’s been said against you (you don’t stop to consider that Chilchuck mentions those things because he finds them charming). You look over to your husband, “I’m a good mom?”

Chilchuck is drunkenly chortling over something you hadn’t heard the blonde woman say.

But at least you’re a good mom.

Something plops against the hand buried in your lap. A scattered white hyacinth. Embarrassed suddenly by how much effort you put into your outfit, you sweep the flower off your leg and stare at the table -- praying to avoid more glimpses of the blonde at the head of the table.

Nobody seems to notice your veil of silence, not even Chilchuck to tease you proving his point about spacing out.

On the trek home, you trail behind Chilchuck to test if he’ll notice. At some point, you’re three full paces behind him, and you theorize that the weight of all your freshly added brain-rocks is slowing you down. Again, he holds the door to your shared home open, but does not ask the cause for your sour mood.

Assuming he’s even noticed, anyway.

Given the way he leaves the next morning for another job with little more than a kiss to your forehead, you assume he didn’t. Venomously, you wonder if he would notice the blonde in a bad mood.

That same morning, not knowing how long he’ll be away this time, you pack up and head for Flertom’s house with Puckpatti.

(a flickering hope tries to toss the rocks through your ears, assuring that Chilchuck will come for you as soon as he’s seen you missing)

…

Four years later, Chilchuck does finally come for you.

“Hey, Mama?” Flertom creeps around the corner to the kitchen, hands wrinkled in the skirt of her dress nervously, “You have a visitor…”

Looking up from your book, you roll the handle of your coffee mug in your palm, making the bottom scrape against your daughter’s tablecloth, “Who’d visit me?”

“Dad.”

That makes you hesitate before slipping your book closed around your thumb, “Your father’s here?”

“He’s at the door,” she nods, voice lowering as if he’d hear her across the house, “There’s an elf lady with him!”

“Oh, you’re- !” you purse your lips, sighing through your nose, and nod. Rising to a stand, you replace your thumb with a proper bookmark before skirting around Flertom and through the hall. Curses coagulate in your throat, and you suffer them silently, holding them until they melt back into your chest, not wanting to swear out your ex in front of his daughter.

With more force than perhaps necessary, you pull the door open and annoyedly flick your eyes from Chilchuck to the blonde elf woman behind him.

“What? Came to show off?”

Chilchuck flushes red, shaking his head and tilting a preciously wrapped bouquet towards you, “No! No, we’re not together.”

Elf Lady lets out a quiet gasp before refusing sharply, “Not together at all! He’s here for you!”

“I figure he’s here for me,” you’re much more bitter than you thought you’d be, although to be fair whenever you imagined Chilchuck coming to see you he was never with another woman, “If you’re not together, why are you here?”

She frowns at your tone, Chilchuck sticking an arm out in front of her, “She’s my coworker. And friend. She pushed me to come see you,” he steps forward, waving the flowers under your nose, “Can we talk?”

“About what, Chilchuck?”

His eyes widen at the use of his formal name, plastic wrap crinkling loudly as he squeezes the flowers. Then his gaze drops to his feet, “I didn’t realize we were so unfamiliar.”

“I haven’t heard from you in four years.”

“You haven’t heard from me?” he grins sideways, an agitated twitch in his left eye, “Do you hear yourself?”

You open your mouth to retort, only to then catch the sight of Chilchuck’s ‘friend’ lingering -- staring -- not even three feet back. Glaring at her, you begin to slide the door shut, “I think we’re done here. You show up at our daughter’s house, unannounced, with some pretty, blonde filly and expect us to chat like old friends? You’re just as insensitive as always, Chilchuck!”

As you go to slam the door, Chilchuck shoves his foot in the way, hissing at the resounding ache all through his instep and ankle. Breathless from the sudden pain, he worms the bouquet through the slim gap -- a few stray powder blue hyacinth petals fluttering to the floor at the pressure. Just above the plush flowers is the sorrowful sight of Chilchuck’s wet lashes and batting eyes.

“Come on,” he huffs, not even taking a huff of relief when you let the door open wider. Tensely, Chilchuck wraps his other hand around the bouquet as well, “It’s not like that, you know me better, don’t you? I just need to talk to you,” the wrap squeals again as he squeezes tighter, “I just want you to tell me where I went wrong.”

He’s playing to your big headedness, vying that he’s alone in the wrong. You know him better, most definitely, you know that as soon as you two sit down he’ll bring up the way in which you left. You deserve that much, don’t you? If you could change anything (given that what you can pick from is what was actually your fault), it would be the manner in how you left. You would’ve waited until he was home to tell him to his face.

(except that’s a lie, if you had waited then you would’ve let him sucker you with soft apologies and unfulfilling promises to change)

This is the most vulnerable you’ve seen him in years.

“She’s not coming into my home.”

Chilchuck nods, lips stretching fondly, “You’re so jealous.”

“She’s tall, and blonde! And pretty. And- !”

He cuts you off, tone just as soft as it was seconds ago, “And I’m not giving her flowers, am I?”

“Apology flowers,” you mutter, though sweeping the bouquet from his arms into yours. Skimming one of the soft petals under your thumb before gliding from one bob to the other and touching there, too. Turning toward the burning feeling of eyes on your back, you find Flertom’s blown out stare meeting yours.

Flertom holds both hands out silently, brows raised. Pushing in neither way, only offering to hold -- whether she holds you or the flowers is your decision. You choose the flowers. She giggles and waves you off, whispering to the flowers about what a lovely, empty vase she has just for them!

“We shouldn’t talk here,” you step out from Flertom’s home, “I don’t want to include our daughter in our troubles.”

“What a good mom,” he teases, waving off the elf as he steps down from Flertom’s porch, holding out a hand to assist you down as well. The remark has a new defiance bubbling beneath your skin.

“I can walk myself,” you bypass his offer.

“I know you can, but let me be nice.”

“You had lots of opportunities to be nice.”

A retort is trapped on the back of his tongue. Ultimately, he swallows it, and says nothing except to suggest a bar nearby, “That could be a good spot,” at your judgmental stare, he sputters, “For talking!”

“Right.”

Chilchuck has a favored tavern in Kahka Brud, the one where you told him you were pregnant with Puckpatti. He, very selflessly and pumped full of blind joy, bought a round for the patrons. It's not a particularly popular or nice place, there’s a lingering smell of mildew and the usual customers are lonely old men (basically: Chilchuck). And the door still creaks when he holds it open for you.

And the tables are just as wobbly when you sit there. Chilchuck tries in vain to mask the tipping by forcing it to one side by pressing his elbows down.

“So, what was she doing there?”

“She kept bugging me about my personal life, so,” he sighs, unsure how to explain himself without sounding out of his mind, “In short, I promised she could meet my family.”

“Pretty against your usual tough front.”

“Not tough,” he folds his arms now, hands on either bicep, still trying to keep the uneven table steady, “I just don’t think they have to know my business.”

“You realize how stupid you sound, right?”

“Oi,” a deep voice approaches from the other side of the bar, a man unfamiliar to both you and Chilchuck stands behind the counter, “We don’t serve kids here.”

Chilchuck groans, pointing at his ears without looking back at the man, then his eyes catch the way you’re prepared to hop down from your seat. He shakes his head, “Don’t move for this dumbass. If he can’t tell a tall-man kid from adult half-foots, he’s a fucking idiot.”

“I guess, but what if he just kicks you out for being a dick?” you glance at the bartender warily, trying to sense if he’s gearing up to throw you and Chilchuck out by force.

“I’m not worried about him,” Chilchuck leans forward, almost as if he can assert control over the situation by a meager height difference, “I’m here to talk to you.”

You’re unsure how to respond to that. It’s something you’ve always wanted to hear from him, but now that you have it feels unsatisfying. After four years of your sudden disappearance from his life, he’s finally given chase.

“Do you have any idea why I left?”

“Roughly,” he admits, voice quiet, eyes redirected to the table in shame, “I wasn’t there for you, right?”

“That’s a bit simplified. When you were on crawls, it felt like you being away for work felt the same as when you were home.”

“I wasn’t there for you,” he restates, nodding slowly, “So, that was it?”

His lack of tension hurts you more than you’re willing to admit. Enough that you temporarily forget that you wanted to make him feel the distance between you both.

“Chil…”

You revert to his first name.

“It’s okay, you can say it. That was it. You had enough.”

It goes unacknowledged, and that hurts all over again. It hurts so bad, you start to get angry that he even maintains such an effect on your heart.

“I didn’t want- it wasn’t- I’m…” you groan loudly, eyes clenching shut to avoid him, “That’s the problem, Chil,” his silence prods you on, “You think of me leaving as… as a ‘that’s it’ moment. Do you know how hard that was on me?”

“Leaving was hard on you? I came home to nothing that day! I thought you were just upset, maybe a little depressed, I didn’t think you were planning to leave me! I never thought you’d leave.”

“I told you. I told you why I was upset.”

“When?”

“I told you all the time!” before he can open his stupid mouth, you’re yelling again, “And if you knew I was so sad, then why didn’t you ask?! Did it never occur to you that I might need support? That I wanted my husband to talk to me about how I felt? That he should talk to me about how he feels?”

“I’m no good with emotional shit, you know that. When I’m upset I just feel uncomfortable spilling that onto others, I didn’t want to intrude.”

“We were married! Spouses are supposed to intrude!”

His shoulders droop, face falling like you said something genuinely devastating (but that can’t be, right? why would he be so upset about something he gave such little thought to?), “Were?”

“I was gone for four years before you came to see me, Chil,” you lay your head in your hands, “Four years before you looked for me.”

“I thought you didn’t want to see me again,” he whispers, “I asked Fler about you.”

“She never told me that.”

“I told her not to.”

Redundantly, you say, “I didn’t know that.”

“I thought you hated me,” Chilchuck draws a slow breath, it fills his whole chest before he lets it all out, “And for the first couple of months after Fler told me you were safe, I hated you, too. I was so mad that you didn’t even leave a note. I couldn’t eat or sleep, I was just… confused, and angry. I couldn’t work,” he swallows hesitation, “And the worst part was… I couldn’t talk about it because nobody knew you. Re-explaining it to people would just piss me off all over again.”

“Your old coworkers met me. And we grew up with Dandan.”

“I didn’t want to talk to Dandan,” he huffs petulantly, “I wanted to talk to my wife.”

So many feelings are bottled between you both; shaken up to a fizzy, bubbling mess about to explode from one of you. You fear it may be you. You almost crave for it to be him, though. You hate him. You miss him. You love him.

And you’re lying through your teeth, still, because you don’t hate him at all.

“Being with you, I felt so lonely.”

“I never took it seriously when you said I should open up more. I thought that because we were married that was enough and you’d be content to just be there,” he purses his lips, “I was wrong. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” you reach across the table and pull one of his hands off his arm, lacing his fingers with yours, “I should’ve left a note. I’m sorry. You must’ve been worried sick.”

“I thought some bastards took you. Ran up and down the coast accusing everyone I could see of kidnapping,” he chuckles, although the ragged beat in his voice clues to you that the incident was not as lighthearted as he’s making it seem, “But when I found out the truth, I just thought you didn’t want to be found.”

“Because you wouldn’t want to be found, right?”

“Right.”

“But- !”

“You’re not me,” he squeezes your hand tight, you can feel the full warm softness of his palm without those gloves he pulls on for work, “You’re way different. You run away to prove points,” a bratty hey! follows, “You know yourself really well, and you’re good at being open. I’ve never been like that. I never knew how, it makes me uncomfortable. But you’re my,” he swallows, “You were my wife, I should’ve been comfortable being emotional with you. You shouldn’t have been in a position where me being home was the same as me being gone for days on end.”

“Thanks, Chil,” you smooth a thumb from his knuckle and along his index finger. You glance back up to his face. A sick nostalgia, or perhaps revived affections, rage up from your gut and overdriving your heartbeat. He’s more handsome than you remember.

He shrugs, studying your conjoined hands. As if it’s the last time he’ll see them like this.

It might be.

“What now?” you ask.

“Dunno,” he replies.

Is it pathetic if you ask to get back together? (YES)

“Want to meet my new coworkers?” he blurts, a vicious red overtaking his face.

This is a step. Where exactly, you’re completely in the dark, but it certainly is a step somewhere new.

“You’re seriously not with that elf, right?”

“Of course, not! What kind of person tries reuniting with their wife while bringing a new girlfriend along?”

“You really want that answer?”

“Oh, fuck you,” he snides, getting down from his chair and holding out a hand to help you down. This time, you take it, and leave his palm in yours as you both exit the bar, “By the way, my old boss is a king now.”

“What?” you gasp, spare hand flying down to smooth out your outfit, “Tell me we’re not going yet! I can look nicer than this!”

“You look pretty like this,” his eyes scrawl over your frame, “Not that it matters, right?”

“Why not?” you frown, “I should at least try to look my best in front of a king.”

“He’s just some guy,” he double-backs suddenly, shaking his head sternly, “I don’t even think he’s attracted to people, I think he’s into monsters. You shouldn’t waste your time.”

Oh!

You smile at your husband widely, “You’re jealous!”

“Not even a little. Why would I be?”

“Exactly,” you pull him into your side by your hand in his, “Why would you be?”

Is it pathetic for him to beg to renew your vows?

Yes.

Does he still plan to?

Yes.

…

“You have a wife?”

“Is that so surprising?” Chilchuck can’t help but preen at the shock, carding a hand through his hair like some pompous dork trying to act too cool for the attention, “Yeah, I’m a taken man.”

Clara, a blonde tallman he usually laughs at rather than with, pesters for more information, “What’s she like?”

Her curiosity makes his skin itch, so he shrugs and tries throwing out answers as fast as they come, “Kind of a space case, and clumsy. But it’s cute…” he scoffs when his party coos and ‘aww’s like he’s some kid talking about a crush rather than a grown man his wife, “She’s really caring, too, it made her a good mom,” Chilchuck clears his throat, if only to smother the sight of his broad grin with his hand, “She’s great.”

“We should meet her,” his black-haired cleric suggests suddenly, “She probably wants to know what group has her husband away from home so often. Hopefully she doesn’t hate us, huh?”

“No,” Chilchuck lowers his hand, still feeling a gentle giddy lap over him like sunlight at the thought of you, “She’s pretty understanding.”

~~~

+ and btw and fyi: i think it’d be cool if the dream was actually terrible and only appeared pleasant cuz laios saved chil, like how marcille remembered having a nice dream after being saves. like if the real dream was coming home from a long job to discover his family horribly murdered <3

[imorynn]

༊*·˚ ━━━ ¡ 𝐀. 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐆 • 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 !

༊*·˚ warnings : fluff & SMUT ( MDNI 18+ )

༊*·˚ tags : @thoroughly--confused @weemswife @urdaddddd69 @mrsines @confuseuniverse @kenzie-floops @evilregal2002 @alicemaximoff @angeliccss @multixfan @spicyredbitch @ofgoldandbraid @nutritionat @bigbaddoctorwolfe @mgruiz @cultiest @aggieharkness @amethyst-bitch @im-a-carnivorous-plant @likealayka @emilynissangtr @gilmoresliarss @jessicaslittlelovesickmess @gayestswiftie @delusionaforolderwomen @greek-freak101 @justasmallfellow @hotmilfyfrap @thegoddamnfeels @lalchimiedecupid @liliastriangle @czl4t @vii-v @asimpforwomen @daddyriovidal ( those who liked / wanted to be tagged !)

༊*·˚ author’s note : this was so enjoyable to do 😭😭 the list is quite lengthy — and there was so much more to bring together, lol. I hope this is enjoyable to read and that I somewhat did Patti LuPone’s character, Avis Amberg justice with these headcanons ! Lemme know your thoughts ! Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate ! 🍂 Mwuah !! <33

SFW :

༊*·˚ AVIS AMBERG is incredibly careful about your rendezvous, choosing discreet locations like upscale hotels or isolated spots far from prying eyes.

༊*·˚ Her visits to the Golden Tip Gasoline are calculated, never too frequent or predictable, to avoid raising suspicion — especially when it comes to being seen with a young gal such as yourself.

༊*·˚ Important, fleeting note : you’re the first female to work in the Golden Tip Gasoline.

༊*·˚ When Ernie sends a note your way that a favored and certain customer of his was willing to pay double of what was usual to maintain discretion and to steal a moment with you, you knew by that smirk and glint in his eyes that you couldn’t say no.

༊*·˚ Avis is a woman who knows the power of her allure, no matter her age.

༊*·˚ Flustered — you’re indeed very fucking flustered the first time especially given her STRAIGHTFORWARDNESS, yet it’s endearing to her.

༊*·˚ You do love how blunt she is though and eventually get used to it.

༊*·˚ She wants to do it again, and you would be lying ( and fucking stupid ) if you said you didn’t want to — 3 to 4 ‘acts of services’ of exhilaration and fun escalated to a full-on affair.

༊*·˚ She flirts effortlessly with you, her smoky voice dropping to a whisper whenever she addresses you, her lips always curving into a faint, knowing smile while basking in the way you flush at her words.

༊*·˚ ESPECIALLY WITH THE NICKNAMES SHE CALLS YOU —

༊*·˚ “ Darling girl,” “mama’s girl,” “doll,” “sweetheart,” “kitten,” “you little minx” “darling”

༊*·˚ Or when the faint yet pigmented traces of her red lips taint your cheeks, your jawline, your temple, or trail along your neck and collarbone — SHE BEAMS WITH PRIDE AND SATISFACTION WHILE ALL YOU CAN DO IS JUST STARE AT HER WITH A STUPID LOVESICK SMILE. ( this is fucking headcanon for Lilia Calderu as well — DISAGREE WITH ME IF YOU DARE. )

༊*·˚ Avis loves teasing you. CANNOT resist gently poking fun at you, whether it’s the way you blush under her gaze or stumble over your words when she leans in too close. Her teasing is always playful, her tone laced with affection.

༊*·˚ She brings touches of her opulent life into your world. Perfume lingering on the clothes she’s discarded, the soft leather of her handbag brushing against your arm, or the way she lights a cigarette with a gold lighter — it’s a stark contrast to your simpler life and a reminder of the gap between you.

༊*·˚ 100 % a good and attentive listener !!!

༊*·˚ Despite the differences in your worlds, Avis genuinely wants to know about your thoughts, dreams, and past. When you speak, she watches you closely, her brown gaze unwavering, her attention making you feel more seen than you’ve ever been.

༊*·˚ From the way your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt when you’re nervous to the way your voice becomes faint when you’re tired, she’s attuned to all your quirks. She has a sharp eye for detail, and while she doesn’t always mention these observations, her actions show she’s paying attention.

༊*·˚ You remind her she’s more than her reputation. Avis is used to being seen as a symbol of wealth, power, or beauty, but she loves when you make her feel like a person. A woman. Someone who’s flawed, complex, and deeply loved for who she is—not what she represents.

༊*·˚ Show her that she’s cherished, even in small ways.

༊*·˚ Avis adores the little things you do to show your devotion — like carrying something for her, warming her hands with yours, or whispering her name in a way that’s just for her. Or even small love-written notes you may sneak into her purse or leave behind.

༊*·˚ It’s in these gestures that she feels truly adored.

༊*·˚ You make her smile. Like, truly, REALLY smile, cheekbones slightly accentuated — there’s this smoldering depth in her eyes when she looks at you as you speak or does something, and when you catch her looking at you like that, your brain just cuts circuits and you feel yourself melting into a puddle because what the fuck —

༊*·˚ In her world of facades and half-truths, your openness is refreshing. Even when you hesitate or stumble over your words, she appreciates the sincerity in everything you say.

༊*·˚ Admires how you respect her boundaries!! Avis values your understanding of her limits. She loves that you don’t push her to share more than she’s comfortable with or question the life she’s built outside of your relationship. Your respect for her choices deepens her trust in you.

༊*·˚ Expect to hear her talk shit about people, even those she loves ( Ellen included, sorry pooks —), in the industry — and expect her to be RIGHT because her words are not spoken without blunt TRUTH. You never disagree with her, although you do shed slight light depending on who it is ( except Ace. Fuck Ace. )

༊*·˚ Though she’d never admit it, Avis is sentimental about your affair. A small book you’d been reading in the passenger seat of her car, the handkerchief you left at her hotel once—all these small things find their way into her collection of keepsakes.

༊*·˚ Avis isn’t outwardly possessive, but there’s an edge to her when she perceives competition. If she catches a whiff of you being overly friendly with someone else, her smiles get tighter, and her touches that night are more deliberate, as if reasserting her claim.

༊*·˚ She pays Ernie fucking extra for your attention to only be provided for her.

༊*·˚ You have to make it clear on more than one occasion that she does not have to pay for your attention, when she’s already captured it entirely —

༊*·˚ You seek her approval and praise. When she throws a compliment or words of advice your way, you greedily and most eagerly consume that into your brain and heart.

༊*·˚ While Avis does here and there tease and dangle the age card on you, you trust and deeply value her judgment, her choice of words, her opinions, and thoughts, and not just because she is someone you adore and become a literal hole for, but because she IS Avis Amberg, a regal and intelligent woman who’s walked the earth longer than you have.

༊*·˚ She more than anyone understands the things one must do and sacrifices one must make to survive in this world. She understands why you do what you do — such as work at the Golden Tip Gas.

༊*·˚ “You’re smarter than this place, doll. Don’t let it keep you boxed in.”

༊*·˚ It’s her way of lifting you up while reminding you that she sees your potential beyond that place.

༊*·˚ Definitely encourages you to pursue your dreams, and depending on what your ideal career is, she will push and pull at strings so her girl can get one step ahead to where she wants to be.

༊*·˚ Avis definitely fusses over you sometimes. If she notices you’ve been overworking or looking too tired, she might hand you a flask of expensive whiskey or tuck a crisp bill into your shirt pocket with a teasing comment about taking care of yourself.

༊*·˚ Avis is NOT afraid to show you tough love. Does not like to sugarcoat things. Her maternal streak doesn’t mean she’ll coddle or indulge weakness. She’ll tell you the truth, even if it’s hard to hear, but her words are always laced with an undercurrent of care.

༊*·˚ Not only supports but pushes you, and it’s because she believes in your potential and wants you to succeed. “You’re strong, don’t let the world treat you like a little bitch, darling.”

༊*·˚ You smother her with affection, SHE SMOTHERS YOU WITH GIFTS.

༊*·˚ The first time she gives you something, you’re hesitant to accept it. Her brow arched, a soft laugh escaping her as she leaned closer to murmur, “It’s for me as much as it is for you, kitten. Humor me, won’t you?”

༊*·˚ Avis knows you might hesitate to accept her generosity, given your position and hers. She always reassures you with a soft smile and a murmured, “It’s nothing, darling. Let me take care of you.” Or , “Don’t argue with me. Mama likes to spoil her girl.”

༊*·˚ A novel by an author you may have mentioned in passing, or a scarf in your favorite color, or a bracelet with a charm that carries a secret significance between the two of you, she’ll get it for you.

༊*·˚ When you proudly wear or use something she’s gifted with gleam, those brown pools of hers shimmer with unmistakable pride. She may trail her fingers along the edge of the fabric she bought for you or comment softly, “You make it look better than I imagined.”

༊*·˚ She sometimes indulges in a more extravagant gift — a pair of earrings, a silk dress, or something that feels out of reach for your world. When she does, her tone is casual, as though it’s no trouble for her to provide such luxuries, but her eyes gleam with satisfaction when she sees your stunned expression.

༊*·˚ Avis is a proud woman, and though she’s not one for grand declarations, she doesn’t like it when you question her affections. “Must I always remind you how much you mean to me?” she’ll say with a soft sigh, cupping your chin to force you to look her in the eye.

༊*·˚ There’s a touch of insecurity on your part. Being with someone as poised and powerful as Avis can feel overwhelming. Sometimes you wonder why she’s with you, a nobody compared to her glamorous life. But she has a way of dispelling your doubts with a single look or a soft-spoken reassurance.

༊*·˚ While Avis trusts your independence, she doesn’t take kindly to anyone mistreating you. If she senses someone’s being disrespectful, her words turn sharp, her demeanor icy, as she swiftly puts them in their place.

༊*·˚ She HATES leaving you after stolen hours with one another. Parting way is always the hardest for Avis. Though she masks it well, there’s a flicker of hesitation in her eyes every time she has to walk away, as if she’s silently wishing she could stay longer. ( those brown eyes of her soft and warm and SAD while her red-tinted lips frown as she stares at you, touches lingering, pecks to your cheek frequent, longer than the last before she departs — UGH. )

༊*·˚ You despise Ace. Period. It physically pains you that she has to go back to the man called her husband — the man with far more power than you could ever have. A MAN for Christ’s sake. Your jealousy — and despise — is both endearing but somewhat common to Avis.

༊*·˚ You bring out a softness in her. With you, Avis lets herself relax in ways she doesn’t elsewhere. She enjoys quiet moments together—sharing a cigarette, lying side by side in silence, or just watching the way you look at her like she’s the only, most precious person in the world. She tends to forget what it feels like, being looked at in that way, feeling that way. ( poor baby —)

༊*·˚ She ADORES how you notice the small things. Whether it’s a new piece of jewelry she’s wearing, the way her hair is slightly styled differently, or even just a minor change in her tone, Avis is deeply flattered when you pick up on the details. She loves being seen by you.

༊*·˚ She knows when you’re upset. You can’t hide your emotions from Avis. If you’re feeling down or anxious, she has a way of coaxing it out of you with a quiet patience that makes you feel safe.

NSFW !!!

༊*·˚ AVIS AMBERG THRIVES in control — a tantalizing balance of tender and firm.

༊*·˚ In the bedroom, this translates into her taking the lead with a firm but sensual dominance. She delights in directing your actions, telling you how to touch her, how to undress, or how to position yourself for her pleasure. She enjoys you being obedient, and your eagerness to please only enhances her desire.

༊*·˚ She might instruct you to undress in front of her slowly, letting her take in every inch of your body, her gaze deliberate and appreciative.

༊*·˚ “Good girl,” she’d breathe out, her voice a velvet-like mix of approval and arousal, as you follow her instructions without hesitation.

༊*·˚ She relishes in control though tempers it with a warmth that makes you feel safe, adored, and completely hers.

༊*·˚ She’s a MASTER of seduction.

༊*·˚ Avis takes her time with foreplay, savoring the build-up as much as the act itself. Her lips, her hands, and her voice are all tools in her arsenal, and she knows exactly how to wield them to leave you breathless.

༊*·˚ Avis would be drawn to your reverence for her. Your willingness to treat her like a goddess would resonate deeply, feeding her need to feel adored and desired in ways she doesn’t receive in her conventional life.

༊*·˚ Babygirl isn’t one to rush, if you’re eager to get to it, she manages to get you to slow down with those eyes and red lipped smirk of hers. Whether it’s the slow drag of her lips down your neck or the way your fingers explore every inch of her skin, she likes for one to take their time, as though committing the feel of one another to memory.

༊*·˚ Quiet isn’t her issue! Avis isn’t afraid to let you know how much she’s enjoying herself — very vocal. Her moans are soft yet commanding, her whispered praises intoxicating. She’s also insistent on hearing you, encouraging every gasp and groan with murmured affirmations.

༊*·˚ She DEMANDS your focus. When you’re with Avis, she expects your UNDIVIDED attention. She’ll gently guide your hands to where she wants them or softly command you to look at her, ensuring every moment is intentional and shared.

༊*·˚ She enjoys hearing how beautiful, powerful, and sensual she is, and she’d savor how eagerly you want to please her.

༊*·˚ You kiss every inch of her body, whispering how divine she is, how much you want to please her, and how lucky you feel to have her.

༊*·˚ “That’s it, darling,” she’d exhale, fingers threading into your hair when you’d kneel before her. “Show Mama how much you adore her.”

༊*·˚ While Avis exudes control and dominance, she would also crave moments where she can let her guard down.

༊*·˚ With you, someone younger and fresh with possibility, she’d explore the thrill of trusting someone to take care of her—even if only briefly.

༊*·˚ On rare occasions, she’d allow herself to lean into your arms, guiding your hand to undress her or worship her body as she sits / lays back, watching you with a mix of amusement and surrender.

༊*·˚ Avis lives for the thrill of secrecy.

༊*·˚ The illicit nature of your rendezvous adds an irresistible tension that heightens her arousal.

༊*·˚ She delights in taking risks — stolen touches in public spaces, breathy moans silenced into the palm of her hand, and the ever-present danger of discovery.

༊*·˚ During galas or social events, she’d brush her fingers against your waist, whispering heated promises in your ear about what she’ll do to you later.

༊*·˚ QUICKIES OCCUR WITH AVIS. I JUST KNOW IT IN MY BONES. Sometimes, when time is short, she’ll pull you into her car and park in the nearest empty parking lot— DOES NOT GIVE TWO FLYING FUCKS IF IT IS DAY OR NIGHT, SHE WILL HAVE YOU.

༊*·˚ The urgency of these moments—your hands fumbling, your breath hot against her skin—it’s all just so delicious to her and you —

༊*·˚ The forbidden nature of your relationship feeds her desire, making every encounter all the more electrifying.

༊*·˚ Definitely has a thing for marking you — hidden of course, though sometimes she isn’t afraid to let them peak out —

༊*·˚ Avis is deliberate about leaving traces of your passion, but always where only you or she will see them. Love bites along your inner thighs or scratches down your back are her signature, a private reminder of her.

༊*·˚ Avis, ever meticulous and refined, would likely have a deep appreciation for oral pleasure — both giving and receiving.

༊*·˚ She’s precise, taking her time to tease and savor, drawing out your pleasure until you’re trembling under her touch.

༊*·˚ She’d enjoy teasing you, her lips and tongue exploring every sensitive spot, her movements sensual and deliberate, building you up only to pause and make you beg for release.

༊*·˚ “Patience, my sweet girl,” she’d whisper, her voice rich with amusement. “I decide when you come.”

༊*·˚ Conversely, she’d REVEL in your attention to her, loving the way you worship her body, how you kiss and taste her like she’s the only thing that matters.

༊*·˚ She encourages you to be VOCAL. Avis LOVES hearing you — whether it’s a soft moan, a whispered plea, or her name spilling from your lips. She’ll tease — very subtly degrade you if you try to stifle yourself. “Let me hear those pretty sounds, darling. I want to know how good you feel at being a dirty little whore, hmm?”

༊*·˚ As a woman used to getting what she wants, Avis would enjoy exerting her control through teasing and denial.

༊*·˚ She, and proud she would be to declare this, is highly aware of the power she holds over you and takes immense pleasure in making you wait for her touch, her approval, her satisfaction.

༊*·˚ She might kiss you deeply, her hands roaming your body, only to stop abruptly and smile. “Not yet, darling,” she’d say, commanding while those brown eyes shimmer in mirth. “I want to savor you.”

༊*·˚ Your frustration only fuels her satisfaction, and when she finally allows you to have her, the release is all the sweeter.

༊*·˚ Avis would revel in the age gap between you.

༊*·˚ She enjoys being the experienced, worldly woman guiding you into new realms of pleasure and desire.

༊*·˚ She loves how youthful and vibrant you are, how your innocence (or at least the appearance of it) contrasts with her own sophistication.

༊*·˚ She might call you “Mama’s girl” during moments of intimacy, or when promising you something filthy and exhilarating in the secrecy of stolen moments.

༊*·˚“You’re so eager, you minx ,” she’d croon affectionately. “It’s adorable how desperate you are for me.”

༊*·˚ Avis is a woman of taste, and she’d incorporate luxury into her intimate encounters with you.

༊*·˚ Silk sheets, champagne, and candlelit settings would be her preference, creating an atmosphere of opulence that matches her persona.

༊*·˚ She’d surprise you with a private rendezvous in a lavish hotel room, the bed adorned with rose petals, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume.

༊*·˚ “Only the best for mama’s girl,” she’d whisper against the nape of your neck as you marveled at the setting she’d arranged just for you.

༊*·˚ praise, praise praise !!!! If it was not clear, Avis thrives for praising you!!!! Avis is generous with her compliments, but they’re always laced with her unique brand of authority.

༊*·˚ She LOVES hearing you call her Mrs. Amberg when you’re intimate, but she’s also partial to ma’am or even mama. It feeds her ego and the dynamic between you two.

༊*·˚ Definitely tests your limits. Avis enjoys pushing boundaries, always careful but curious to see how far you’re willing to go for her. A blindfold, a soft scarf tying your wrists, or simply asking you to trust her completely—she knows how to toe the line between thrilling and overwhelming !

༊*·˚ VERY SENSUAL. For Avis, intimacy is about more than just physical pleasure. She takes every opportunity to touch you—tracing patterns on your skin, pressing kisses to your pulse, and savoring the way you respond to her in every way.

༊*·˚ She takes her time with aftercare, as do you. Despite her intensity, Avis is gentle and attentive once the heat of the moment has passed. She’ll brush back your hair, press soft kisses to your temple, and whisper words of reassurance as she holds you close.

[cup1dvalenl1na]

Hiiiii,

I read your Maka and Liz post today and I loved it ☺️☺️

Would you be willing to write death the kid x reader headcanons where Liz and Patty take it upon themselves to be Kid’s wingwomen? Basically they notice Kid’s interest in the reader and take it into their own hands to try and get them together?

Thank you for reading this!!

Something was weird about Kid,

(not like there ever ISN'T something weird about him lmao.)

But more than usual, Kid was fixing his hair more often, making sure no dust was on his clothes, and taking FOREVER to get ready.

Liz and Patty noticed this, and Patty immediately ran up to Kid and jumped to the conclusion that he liked someone.

Kid denied this fervently, refusing to acknowledge Patty's words, but with the way he reacted, Liz knew it had to be true.

Liz tried to ask him who it was, but Kid kept denying he ever liked someone in the first place and ran off. 💀

Liz and Patty had a mission, and it was to find out who Kid was interested in.

For the next few days, Liz and Patty followed Kid in the shadows, trying to see if he ever reacts differently to someone he talks to.

Eventually Kid comes up to you, and he's unnaturally uptight and stiff, Liz and Patty smirk widely at this.

They found out who it was.

Immediately, before Liz can catch Patty, the latter runs up to Kid, tackling him as soon as you leave, yelling that he likes you and Kid has to cover her mouth to shut her up

He drags Liz and Patty elsewhere to scold them about being so loud about it

Liz offers him help, but Kid denies in embarrassment, and eventually walks away from them.

So Liz comes up with a plan, she would help from the background, like pulling strings,

If her, Kid and Patty were assigned a project together?

Aw man...her and Patty gotta go back home cause they forgot something..

Subtly making Kid have to find a new partner for the project, which would be you

Patty has other ideas, and constantly teases Kid about his interest in you, almost telling you straight up

"HEY (Y/N) DID YOU KNOW THAT KID-"

insert Kid slapping his hand on her mouth and dragging her away

In the end, Liz and Patty for want what's best for him, so they do their best to help him.

If Kid ever comes to them for help, Liz would give genuine advice, like, give them gifts or take them somewhere

So Kid does this, but is always stiff and uptight whenever you two spend time with each other,

Eventually, you or him confess to each other, and Liz and Patty watch from the shadows, giving each other a high five

[ddejavvu]

Can I be the controversially young-new in town-girl luke danes fucks in secret any time he wants or it's that too much

send me requests for the men of gilmore girls!

--

he wants to be all grumpy about it too like he's not the one locking the door behind you when you come in for a late-night cup of cocoa... he wants to scoff at you when you knock on the door of the diner despite the CLOSED sign blinking in your face. he's already grumbling when he unlocks the door and lets you inside, but his thick fingers twist the lock back into place and he yanks the blinds on the door back down from where he'd raised them to see who was knocking.

'you know the hours are on the window, right? 6:30-9. it's eleven.' he drawls at you, entirely unimpressed even as he lets you inside, 'i'm closed.'

'come on,' you plead, shucking your coat to reveal a slim shirt that isn't helping him resist you, "please? you're the only one i know around here, I'm still settling in, and- and I just don't know who else to go to. you're the only one who's nice to me.'

and he thinks he's a little more than nice as he takes hold of your hips, scoffing under his breath as he drags you closer, 'right. i'm nice to you.'

but he understands. miss patty has probably already started in on you, and even if she's not mean-spirited she's overwhelming and her teasing can come off a bit harsh. taylor has definitely been mean to you, and kirk threw a fit just yesterday because you were in his spot in the diner. so he can't blame you- you probably are feeling a little lost.

'i love you' you gasp out, in all of your starry-eyed adoration of the man whose stubbly cheeks you're cupping, the words tumbling from your lips as you lean in to kiss desperately at his frown, 'luke please, just one more time?'

[ofgoldandbraid]

my favourite distraction

lilia x reader

(here’s an amazing patti photo)

an / this is the first thing i’ve written in english and posted, please bear with me! sorry if it’s terrible :(

notes: absolute filth; oral (r receiving); biting; teasing; lilia being the most amazing person ever

a loud sigh from the corner of your kitchen interrupted your focus.

« lilia, what do you want? » you looked over your shoulder and shouted in her direction.

« oh, nothing, » she says, blowing the damp curls on her face out of the way with a huff.

behind you, lilia calderu was grinning to herself. her plans for you tonight were grand.

« cut the shit, what’s up? » you turn to give her your full attention, only to see her smirk at you.

« honey, i’m feeling a little lonely, » lilia pouted, walking closer to you and giving you those eyes.

you turned back to the book on the counter, still stuck in the same line you were reading when you were interrupted.

« i’m right here, » you replied flatly. lilia huffed again. you could practically feel her roll her eyes. «  and i’m busy. »

you feel a hand on the back of your neck, pulling your hair up and off of it.

« alright, » she whispered against your neck. « i’ll just die over here waiting for you to let me give you some attention. »

you sighed dramatically, walking away and dropping onto the couch as you screamed into one of the handmade throw pillows.

« aw, what’s the matter, honey? » she laughed, following you into the sitting room. « what’s got you so… worked up? »

« lilia, » you whined, drawing out the last syllable. « i didn’t see your pretty neck until you put your hair up. »

lilia walked over to you, lacing her fingers through your hair and lightly tugging.

the moan that escaped you was humiliating.

« oh, love. you’re all mine, you know it? » she murmured, her lips getting closer and closer to your face.

« you suck, » you murmured against her.

« what the hell do you mean? » lilia questioned, cocking an eyebrow as she tightened her grip on your hair.

you leaned closer to her, wanting more.

« you, mhm, » you moaned as she tugged once more. « you keep fucking teasing me. »

she lowered herself on the couch next to you and placed her free hand dangerously close to your inner thigh.

« honey, i don’t have to follow your rules. i can do whatever i want to you. » she kissed you hard, tongue on yours, teeth into your lips.

she pulled back and shoved your roaming hands off of her breasts.

« and i know you’ll love it. you’re so easy, angel. »

she moved her mouth down, licking and sucking your skin until she reached your collarbone.

« may i? » lilia asked, moving her hand from your thigh to mess with the low neckline of your shirt.

« please, » you moan, shoving yourself towards her in a desperate attempt to relieve even the smallest bit of tension.

she laughed lowly, slowly moving her hand you your throat as she lowered herself and bit down on the exposed top of your breast.

« fuck, lilia, » you croak.

she looks up at you, grinning as she removes her mouth. you groan.

« did i hurt you, my love? » she asked, holding your cheek.

 « no, but you are now. please, i need you. » you bucked your hips involuntarily, an act that made lilia pout mockingly.

« is my angel desperate? does my darling want something from me? » she looked at you with a smile across her face as she lowered back down to your chest.

« yes, » the strangled noise left your mouth right as she ripped the shirt off of your torso.

« y/n, what did you say you wanted to do to my neck? » she finished her sentence with a low grunt as you shoved your thigh between both of hers.

« i didn’t say it, » you said as lilia moved herself impossibly close, straddling you. « but all i could think about was marking you. showing everyone how much i love you. biting you all over your neck and hips and thighs. »

she ground into you, moaning into your breasts.

« i thought i was the needy one, » you playfully poked her on the nose.

« shut up, » she said as she repositioned herself over you.

suddenly, you were cold. when you looked down at yourself, your clothes were gone.

shivering, you reached up to her and held her face.

« you’re so beautiful, » lilia whispered as she trailed her hands down to rest them on your breasts.

she ran her thumbs over your nipples, laughing to herself as you writhed underneath her.

« okay, okay. i’ll stop teasing you, honey, » she laughed against you as she slid off you and lowered between your legs.

she grabbed your thighs and held them apart, looking at your dripping sex as her pupils blew.

« all this and i’ve hardly touched you, » lilia said against you, her breath cooling your heat down.

« stop it, » you moaned as she blew on your pussy. « you bit my tit, how could i not be dying for you? »

she smirked at you as she swiped through your wetness with her index and middle fingers.

« fuck, lilia, » you whimpered, holding her head with your hands tangled in her hair.

« i know, baby, i know, » she murmured against you, impossibly close to your cunt. « suck, » lilia ordered, shoving her fingers into your mouth.

you obliged, licking her fingers clean of your arousal.

« you’re such a good girl for me, » she said, leaning forward and licking a long stripe up you.

you threw your head back into a loud moan, finally getting what you desired the most.

but just as quickly as you felt that relief, it was taken away. lilia pulled back, instead giving her attention to your inner thighs. she bit down, the sting causing tears to prick your eyes.

« is this okay? » she questioned, running her hands from your hips to knees, then back up again.

you groan at her, furious that she���d stop the moment she started.

lilia’s hands pulled your knees over her shoulders as she got closer to you again.

her licks were deep and firm, and you shook at the intensity of her that you had never seem to have experienced before.

quickly, you began to feel a tightness, a heat in you. your thighs tensed around lilia’s head.

« you wanna suffocate me, baby? » she said between the strong strokes of her tongue and the little kisses on your inner thighs.

you pushed her head back into you, impossibly close, muttering incomplete thoughts under your breath and soon babbling as she increased the speed of her flat licks and sucks.

you held her head between your thighs, ready to come, but she slowed to a near stop.

« lilia? » you whispered, tears threatening to roll down your face at the pain of your stolen orgasm.

she exhaled onto you and moved to the curve of your neck.

her vagary shocked you, frustrated you, and terrified you. had you done something wrong?

« honey, your thoughts are loud, » she emphasized her sentence with a nip to your jaw.

you squeezed your eyes shut, unbearably needy.

lilia put her hands to the side of your face, pushing them up to tangle them in your hair, her thumbs stroking under your eyes as she caught the escaped tears.

« oh, you’re shaking. momma left you all desperate, » she stuck out her bottom lip as your eyes shot wide open at her sentence.

your squirming grew more intense and lilia laughed at you.

« okay, okay, » she sighed into your collarbone as she brought her hands from your head to your sensitive breasts again.

« please, » you choked, tears stinging your flushed face.

she quickly returned to her former position between your twitching legs, and without warning, resumed her hard and fast paced licks.

like a switch, you felt closer than you’d ever felt before, teetering on the edge.

suddenly, she moaned into you, and with a strong vibration on your swollen clit, you came. lilia stared into your eyes as you shook and held her in place, soaking her face.

she licked you through your orgasm, and when you finally slowed your shaking, she grabbed your hands.

« you’re so good for me, aren’t you? » she sat her chin in your thigh, smiling at you as she ran her nails across your palm.

you managed to release a strangled « mm ».

lilia stood up and sat next to you, wrapping her arms around your cold frame and stroking your hair again.

« we should do this more often, » she mused before she bit into your bare shoulder. « here we go again…»

[iwritefandomimagines]

ROMANTIC GESTURE — JESS MARIANO

masterlist

pairing: jess mariano x reader

description: jess wasn’t going to buy your easter basket and risk the embarrassment of his potentially unrequited feelings. so instead, he pays kirk to buy it so he can steal you away.

warnings: bit of swearing, bit of fluff, jess mariano i love u

author’s note: jess mariano stop appearing in my dreams challenge! anyway, hope you all enjoy. this has been in the drafts for ages and i finaaally finished it.

You were perched opposite Rory at Luke’s, on the edge of your seat as you tapped your feet anxiously and leaned on your basket.

“Nobody’s going to buy my basket,” you huffed, “You’re so lucky you’ve got Dean to like, 100% make sure yours gets bought.”

Rory rolled her eyes, “You’re being dramatic, Y/N. The town loves you. Just because you’ve been here less time, doesn’t mean nobody will buy your basket. Hey, maybe stalker over there will buy it.”

Rory was blissfully unaware that despite pretending to be distracted by wiping down the counter, Jess’ ears were practically pricked up like a dog listening.

“Stop calling him that, Rory,” you shook your head, cheeks burning as you looked over at him and he briefly looked up and caught your eye, “He’s my friend. And he said he wasn’t participating, which I assume means no buying as well as no making.”

“Whatever you say, Y/N. But we’d better head over there.”

You nodded, following her down to where Taylor Doose was already stood yelling at the town to hand their baskets in with haste and get ready to begin bidding on them.

Jess was lurking just out of sight, deciding what his best approach was for buying your basket and getting to have lunch with you as a result.

He spotted Kirk meandering over, a lightbulb moment sparking in his head as he dashed over to his side, “Kirk. I need you to do me a favour.”

“Jess Mariano needs a favour from me?”

“Yes— I need you to buy Y/N’s basket for me and then give it to me,” his hands were stuffed in his pockets as he sighed out his request, and Kirk eyed him inquisitively.

“What’s in this for me? And why can’t you buy it yourself?”

Jess huffed, “I’ll pay you 20 dollars. I can’t buy it myself because I told them I wasn’t going to be free to. I’ll be back at the diner, bring me the basket when you’ve got it and I’ll go and meet them with it. It’s a surprise then.”

“Oh,” Kirk stared blankly for a moment, “A romantic gesture. Got it. The whole town have been wondering when you’d finally get together. I’ll tell Taylo—,”

Jess took a step forward, hands flying from his pockets, “Don’t say a word! Just— we’re friends. I’m being a nice friend and buying Y’N’s basket.”

“What if I want to buy Y/N’s basket? I’m her friend.”

“Why would you want it?”

“Because— I don’t know. But I might.”

“Just take your $20 and buy me the basket, and I’ll give you what you paid for it after, Kirk,” he pulled $20 from his wallet and handed it over, “Or I’m telling Luke.”

With that, Kirk nodded and scurried over to complete his ‘mission’.

—

Kirk came rushing into the diner out of breath, basket in his hands and his face bright red, “I got it! I got Y/N’s basket. I paid $120 because a love rival of yours wanted it too, according to Ms Patty, so it was difficult. But I got it.”

“$120? I don’t have—,” he rethought it as he saw you headed for the diner, “Fine.”

He pulled his remaining cash from his wallet, handed it over to Kirk as he took the basket from him, and then wrote Luke a note explaining why he was about to take cash from the register and replace it with savings he had stashed upstairs when he next went up.

You entered the diner alone, no Rory this time, and Jess was relieved. He knew she didn’t like him, so he was happy to have time alone with you.

“Oh, so Mr Too Cool for the Easter basket bid wanted a basket after all and just got Kirk to do the work for him?” you teased, propping yourself up on the counter as you tried to suppress the giant smile forming as a result of his gesture.

“Well, time-honoured town traditions aren’t really my thing,” he shrugged nonchalantly, just a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, “But you’re good at this kind of thing. I thought it’d be nice.”

You placed your hand on top of where his rested on the counter, “Oh wow, are you ill? Is Luke ill? Am I ill and entirely unaware? Jess Mariano— doing something because you thought it’d be nice…”

He shook his head with a laugh, “C’mon, I can be nice!”

“Oh sure. You’ll have to show me this apparent nice Jess now when we go and eat the miserable contents of this basket,” you sing-songed, aware that your hand was still on top of his. You grabbed it, giving it a light tug to urge him to get away to join you now.

“Hm, not sure you deserve it if you’re going to tease me,” he pouted, following you out of the diner anyway as you swung the basket in your hands and skipped along, “Fine. Well let me choose where we go to eat then.”

“Sure. I just wonder where you’ll take me,” you teased, watching a smirk grace his face as he shook his head, “Gee golly I sure hope there’s a bridge involved.”

You’d wandered past him sat on that bridge many a time and it had once been your reading spot instead.

Jess scoffed at your mocking, “It’s quiet, can you blame me? I’ve already had Kirk telling the whole town about my supposed romantic gesture.”

You narrowed your eyes, briefly feeling a pang in your chest at the implied denial that there was anything romantic about him buying the basket.

“So this wasn’t your way of confessing your undying love for me?” you paced your palm to your chest in feigned dismay, “What’s your motive, then? Are you luring me out there to kill me?”

“You’re a pain in the ass, Y/N,” Jess rolled his eyes, “Can we just go?”

“No denial. Wow, I’m gonna die at Jess Mariano’s hands, and the last thing I’ll have eaten will be my miserable cheese sandwiches,” you gasped.

Jess led the way out through the town, clocking that all eyes were on you both, “Bold of you to assume I’d let you live that long. Think I’d get the job done quick enough to eat the sandwiches myself. I am pretty hungry.”

“Well unfortunately for you I put up a good fight when I’m hungry,” you nudged him, “And you’re supposed to be being nice, huh?”

Jess nudged you back, “You accused me of plotting to kill you!”

You just hummed, swinging the basket as you walked at his side and finally reached the bridge. You sat yourself down, waiting for him to follow suit as you immediately began unpacking.

“Wow, someone’s eager.”

“You just spent $120 to eat sandwiches with me Mariano,” you laughed, “You haven’t got a leg to stand on talking to me today.”

Jess shrugged, conceding as he looked into the basket while you pulled out it’s contents, “Pretty good.”

You handed him a sandwich with a small smile, taking one of your own and unwrapping it to take a bite, “In all seriousness, why did you actually bid on my basket?”

Your voice was small, and it warmed Jess’ heart to see you nervous to hear his answer.

“I just thought it’d be nice,” he shrugged, but you could see in the way his eyes lingered on you, as they so often did, that he was being honest now.

You smiled, “It is nice. I’m glad. Rory’s always got something to say when we talk at Luke’s, it’s nice to have time to talk alone.”

Jess quirked his brow with a smirk, “To talk alone? Are you sure it’s not you confessing your love for me?”

You scoffed, but the scoff became a small laugh as you looked at your feet where they swung over the edge of the bridge. Had you given the game away with your nervousness? Would it be clear now that you really did like him?

“You know what I mean, asshole,” you chuckled, shrugging, “I like your company.”

He smiled genuinely again, the glimmer in his eyes sending sparks through your body, “I like your company too. Just about the only person in the shithole town whose company I do enjoy.”

“You’re so poetic, Mariano,” you joked, taking another bite of your sandwich and trying to hide your blush, “But I’m glad. I really—yeah, I just like spending time with you.”

There was a brief moment of silence as you both continued eating, swinging your legs practically in sync with each other as you did so.

“Can I be honest?” Jess almost whispered as he finished his sandwich and leaned over to grab a juicebox, “Nice touch by the way.”

You giggled, “Hey, you can’t beat a juicebox. Gimme one, please.”

He handed you one too, and as you pierced the carton with your straw you’d remembered what he said before, “Of course— Of course you can be honest. What is it?”

He gulped, taking one small sip of his drink and then placing it down at his side, “I kinda did this to help me, I dunno, tell you that I liked you. Thought the gesture would… This feels stupid now.”

You bit your lip, trying to process what was currently happening, “It’s not stupid, Jess. I was hoping that was what this was… I mean, who spends $120 on a basket—,”

“Stop reminding me how much money I spent, please,” he interjected with a groan.

“Sorry—,” you smiled, “I didn’t want to get my hopes up and thought maybe it was just you confirming we were friends, but I’ve liked you for ages, Jess.”

He seemed more than pleased with this, a huge smile spreading across his face as you fluttered your lashes at him and smile right back in his direction.

He clenched his jaw, “Really? Rory’s always teasing you so I thought—,”

“How is someone so intelligent simultaneously so dumb?” you teased, shuffling closer to him and pushing the basket back so that you could move close enough that your thighs almost touched, “She teases me because she knows I like you, Jess. It was her who encouraged me to make a stupid basket to see if you’d bid because that would apparently prove you liked me too.”

Jess laughed, “I s’pose it worked out, then. I—I really like you, Y/N. At first I thought it was just because you were the only person here who isn’t— well isn’t always— a pain in the ass. I thought I’d just found a friend, y’know. But that’s not it, I really like you. I don’t wanna be just friends.”

Your heart was racing, and he seemed to have closed the last remaining gap between your sides. You leaned your head on his shoulder with a happy sigh, “I don’t wanna be just friends either.”

His hand moved to rest atop yours where it was placed on your knee, “That’s made the ridiculous amount of money somewhat worth it.”

“Only somewhat, hm?”

“It’ll only be completely worth it when you’re my girlfriend,” you could tell he was shy about saying that, “So yeah, only somewhat.”

“Is this your way of asking me to be your girlfriend, Mariano?” you grinned, heart still thrumming hard against your ribcage as he tilted to look at you.

“It might be,” he smirked, “But only if your answer’s gonna be yes. If not you’ve like, totally got the wrong idea Y/N.”

You leaned up, propping yourself up with your hands on his shoulder, and pressed a small kiss to the corner of his lips.

He smiled against your lips, reciprocating the kiss for a moment, “Is that a yes?”

You laughed, hooking your arm around his and leaning on his shoulder once more, “Yes, Jess. I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

You sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the sound of only the stream of water beneath you and your synchronised heartbeats.

“Those sandwiches sucked, by the way.”

“Oh I know,” you hummed, “I didn’t want to end up eating them with someone else so thought it wasn’t worth making much effort. Hence me hardly packing much.”

“Well now you’ve just got a hungry, broke boyfriend,” as soon as he said the word broke he was once again reminded of the cost of the basket.

“$120 man. Wow, I really do like you.”

———

thanks soooo much for reading! i hope you like this, i really enjoyed writing it <3 let me know if you have any more requests & please let me know what you thought!!!

also — here is my masterlist

[bettysupremacy]

Hi bestie <3 okay so I’m literally obsessed with your work and I was wondering if you could do a Jamie potter x reader where James comes back from quidditch (or rugby whatever you want jkebaksn) and he’s all sleepy and stuff but he didn’t shower before coming upstairs. Then reader is just like doing homework on his bed and won’t cuddle him bc he smells like sweat and he’s all pouty and enbwjsbe. Ofc no pressure if this doesn’t inspire you but fr love you 🫶

I need you to start sending me requests more more more bestie cause I literally loved this. He’s so sweet I miss him.

When James has to go to practice, it’s the second worst thing he fears he’ll ever have to do in this relationship.

Right below traveling.

It’s not that he’s obsessed, he just misses you. Misses you so wildly he fumbles the ball sometimes thinking about it. That’s normal.

And it’s normal to skip showers to see you quicker. Well, maybe you wouldn’t agree.

When he comes home, he’s sweaty. It glistens above his brow, gleaming in the low light of your lamp.

“You run a marathon?” You tease, shuffling under his blanket.

He smiles, rugby bag dropping to the floor with a clatter. “No,” He smiles, peeling his clothes off. His words are broken up between pants. “Elevator is broken again though. Had to help Patty with her groceries.”

His clothes don’t make it to the bin. Throwing them in the general direction suffices.

“That was sweet.” You murmur as he climbs over you, pulling a book off your chest, surprised by a teddy under it. “Hi.”

“Hi.” he smiles.

You push his hair back, grimacing at the dampness of it. “Missed you.”

He ignores this, nuzzling down into you, face smooshed into the skin of your naval. “Missed you more.” He feels the vibrations when you giggle.

“Y’tickling me, stop.”

Grumbling, he smiles when you pull him up by his hair. “Yes, lovely?”

“You’re smelly.”

His mouth drops, bewildered at your blunt affront. “You’re supposed to think I never smell bad.”

“I think you smell like sweat,” You drop his hair. “and you feel like it too. Do they not provide showers there?”

He climbs up your body, dropping chest to chest. Limply, you feel his rough hands slide under your neck as he mouths under your ear, and nips at your jawline. “They do, but I missed you.”

Your blinking stutters. He’s sweet on you, so sweet on you, it’s not your fault for wrapping your arms around his strong back. “I wish you missed the showers more.” You gasp.

“Never.” He smiles down at you.

“I’m gonna need you to get in the shower if you want to continue this.”

His face scrunches up, whining loudly into your neck as he drops into you. “But I’m tired.”

“Not too tired to give me a hickey.”

“Never too tired for you, honey.” He cheeks, muffled by your neck. Your shoulder comes up, tickled, but he holds you down, kissing there harshly.

“Is it bad?” You murmur.

He pops up, inspecting your neck seriously. “Dark purple already.” He grimaces.

You push your palm into the side of his head, giggling wildly. “Shut up, Jamie, get in the shower.”

He turns to your stuffed animal in complete offense. “You see how she treats me?”

“Oh my god.”

“Bet she doesn’t treat you like that, does she?”

“Go!” You manage out. “You smell like field!”

He pushes off the bed, shaking his head. “Field, lovely?”

“Field.” You nod grimacing.

“Okay,” He shrugs, off towards the bathroom. “I’ll go shower.”

“Thank you.” You smile, hugging the bear to your chest. “Wait,”

He turns, ears practically perked like a excited puppy. “Yes?”

“Can I get a kiss first?”

“You know it.” He bounces over pressing one, two, three warm kisses to your mouth. The fourth lands at the corner, skewed from the other three.

“Don’t miss me too much.” You murmur.

“Get me in 5 minutes if I’m not out,” He groans, pushing off the bed. “I might’ve passed out.”

“Be quiet, stupid.” You grab his pillow, throwing it at him softly. “That shower better be more than 5 minutes.”

The bathroom door clicks shut quickly. “Teddy doesn’t get this treatment!” He cries.

[cassiebones]

Agatha All Along has such a great cast of characters.

Agatha Harkness, who tries to come off as aloof but is just so damn soft and cannot hide how much she cares for very long. She's also a lesbian. We love that for her.

Rio Vidal, hot as hell embodiment of death itself. She also likes to play cool, but there's no hiding how much she loves Agatha. She teases her, mercilessly, and tries to convey how sorry she is for their past. And she's HOT. Also a lesbian. Fantastic. Phenomenal.

Sharon Davis, sweet ol auntie next door who just rolls with it. She just wants friends. She is traumatized bc of a certain ginger witch, but she still goes with it. She is the only straight main/side character. we love Sharon.

Lilia Calderu (idk if I spelled her last name correctly), who is our elder witch. She has probably the most trauma. She has witnessed so much in her time, but she still cares for others and seems so fiercely protective. Sexuality unclear but it's Patti LuPone so

Alice Wu-Galliver, our music witch. She has Mommy issues, but her mom loved her so damn much, you can tell. Now she knows it. She is definitely also queer.

Jennifer Kale, potions witch. Very smart. So beautiful and fantastic, played by one of my favorite comediennes, Sasheer Zamata. She has, I think, all the knowledge in the world. Don't check me on that. Also queer, without a single doubt.

Teen, lovely boy, shrouded in mystery. Personally, I think he's one of the twins. But it's just as possible that he belongs to some other witch. Hell, maybe he somehow belongs to Rio. Who knows? He loves his adopted mom, Agatha, and she loves him. He also loves all his witchy aunties and he's So Serious about being a witch, too. I think he's also canonically gay, right?

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

As You Wish Pt. 2 | Neil Lewis x fem!reader

Summary| Neil, still thinking about the other day, invites y/n to Gumshoe Video's movie night. The theme (besides vampires) is the 1960s and so she dresses for the part. And like any good vampire thriller- only the good stuff happens after dark...

Warnings| age gap- reader (19) Neil Lewis (27), cursing, kissing, groping, teasing, unprotected sex, penetration, no fore-play.

word count: 4261K

Midnight City- M83 🎶

Our Swords- Band of Horses 🎵

Shout out to the lovely reader who requested a part 2! This is for you!

Please read warnings and continue at your own discretion, thanks!

She can hear the chatter from outside as rain plasters the wide display windows. She stops outside Gumshoe Video and peeks her head inside, sparing her hairdo from the storm outside. Her hair was pinned into a half-beehive and curled up around her shoulders like a young Pattie Boyd. The guests inside turn when the bells above the door announce her presence. They cheer and raise their red plastic cups in greeting and she laughs back, her smile dragging widely across her face. And there he is: Neil Lewis. He’s standing beside the box tv set with a bottle of cheap beer in his hand. He’s wearing a powder blue dress shirt from the seventies and a dark blue suit. His longish hair is swept out of his face and he smiles at something someone has said. When he looks over, he sees her, and his mouth falls open. 

“Oh my God! Where did you get this?” A woman swoops in from the side and admires her dress. 

“It’s a replica mod dress from the 60s. I made it,” she answered with a polite smile and allowed the woman to inspect the stitching. As she raised her eyes, they met Neil’s. His eyes widened slightly as he dropped them down to her thighs before traveling back up to her face. Her dress was boxy, like that of a mod dancer, and so short that it was barely fingertip length (to use school-girl terminology). She was dressed up as a gogo dancer, red vinyl boots and all, for the showing of Gumshoe Video’s The Kiss of the Vampire. Neil bit his tongue as his eyes crawled down her body. Her dark red dress had a high modest neckline but was sleeveless and short. The fabric was a tautly starched linen that didn’t move much as she walked. It hugged her waist with a thick belt but fared out around her thighs in a fixed shape. Her makeup was a copy of one of Twiggy’s famous looks with the exaggerated eyelashes and dark eyeliner. Her eyelids were a bright blue that clashed with her red clothing, a mixing of primary colors. When the woman stepped away, she advanced shyly, resisting the urge to bite her lip and ruin her lipstick. Neil cleared his throat and nodded quickly at Lucien whom he was talking to when she had come in. His eyes darted back and forth, between her and Lucien’s prop pipe. His long eyelashes fluttered as he stole glances at her between pretending to listen to Lucien. 

“Hey! Nice of you to join, I’m Jonathan.” Jonathan appeared beside her and offered his hand not holding a beer. She shook it and smiled. 

“Y/N, I tried to dress for the theme.” She looked down at her costume and he nodded emphatically. 

“I did too. I was going for Ringo Starr.” Jonathan twirled, showing off his bright pink military costume like the one Ringo wore for Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. She nodded and smiled. 

“I see the resemblance. Who is Neil supposed to be?” She jerked her head at Neil and Jonathan sighed. 

“He said that he was going as one of the Monkees but personally, I don’t see it.” 

“He must have run out of costumes,” she laughed and Jonathan shrugged dramatically. As she finished that sentence, Neil broke away from Lucien, slightly breathless and placed a hand on her back in greeting. She looked up at him, curling her toes inside her shoes. 

“You’re one of the Monkees?” She teased him lightly and Neil chuckled and shook his head. 

“I did have a hat on, it made more sense when I was wearing the hat.”

“So you were Micheal?” She asked and he gestured wildly at her for Jonathan, “See I told you someone would get it.” 

“That’s only because you both have weird niche knowledge,” Jonathan wrinkled his nose. “Uh oh, Lucien is talking to two strange women. I’m going to swoop in before he says something weird,” he hurried over to Lucien and patted him playfully on the head. Neil immediately looked down at her, his cool resolve slipping slightly. He was flustered. 

“Wow,” he gestured with both hands at her costume and she blushed self-consciously. He stuttered as he tried to say something coherent. “I’m uh, just uh… wow.” He scratched the back of his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing around quickly before leaning in close to her ear. “Jesus Christ you smell good too.” He shook his head, forgetting what he was originally going to say. She smiled giddily. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

“Do you want to see my office?” Neil cleared his throat as he looked around, trying to look natural to everyone else in the store. His slumped posture and darting eyes would betray him if anyone cared to look at him long enough. He replaced his hand on the small of her back and swirled a finger across the fabric. She played with the hem of his blazer, blushing hard. 

“Hey, Neil!” A couple stopped in front of them and Neil jumped back to attention, his arm flying back behind his head and off of her body. He coughed briefly and cleared his throat. 

“Hey- hey! How’s it going?” He smiled distractedly and greeted his friends. They waited expectantly to be introduced to the girl and Neil gasped slightly, remembering. “Oh sorry, this is Y/N and Y/N, this is Buddy and Marcia.” He waved between them and they all nodded at each other politely, exchanging handshakes and smiles. “Enjoy the movie!” Neil said a little over enthusiastically and Buddy furrowed his brow, slightly concerned as they walked away. Jonathan found them at the makeshift bar and chuckled. 

“That’s the new girl,” he gestured with his cup and Marsha pursed her lip approvingly. 

On the other side of the room, Neil turned back to her and licked his lips. “So… my office?” He raised his eyebrows and jerked his thumbs at the separate office space in the back of the store. She giggled as she dug her toe into the ground and swayed slightly against him. Neil’s smile grew as he led her from the main store area and back into the office. When she passed through the door after him, Neil closed it and lowered himself slightly, his arms going out wide as he looked her up and down again mouthing, “oh my god.”

“So you like it?” She ran her hands down the front of her dress and shifted the weight on her feet proudly. 

“I mean, just look at you!” He ran his hand over his mouth and stepped in closer. The desk knocked softly into her tailbone as she retreated. “I love it,” he emphasized and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She was leaning back against the desk, her legs spread and her weight evenly distributed. Neil stepped closer, his body firmly between her legs. She worked up the courage to touch him, sliding her palms around his waist beneath his blazer. 

“Your fucking thighs,” Neil whispered breathlessly as his index fingers traced around the small hairs on her upper thighs. “God…” he gasped softly, already feeling himself get hot under the collar. She rubbed her nose against his and gave him a soft peck on the mouth. 

“Is that all I get?” He whispered with a furrowed brow. He ran his knuckles down her neck and tried not to gasp when he found her breasts. She kissed him again, pulling herself up higher by his shoulders. Her fingers dug into the plush fabric of his jacket’s shoulder pads. He responded immediately, shoving his tongue into her mouth. Neil pawed desperately at her, his hands grabbing at her thighs, her breasts, and her head. He pushed her up onto the desk and she whined in protest as he now towered above her. He chuckled breathlessly and dragged his hands up the inside of her thighs. 

“Shh,” he smiled when she glowered, wanting to cling to him as she kissed him. When she stopped wiggling, he leaned down and kissed her slowly. She held onto his hips by hooking her fingers in his belt loops. His hands prodded further, stroking the elastic band of her underwear around her pelvis. She was wearing cotton underwear and Neil could feel the wetness pooling at her opening through the fabric. He started to fall apart as he stroked her clothed cunt with his long fingers. She squirmed on the desk in front of her and the heels of her gogo boots knocked against the desk, her back arched into him. She moved his hands beneath her skirt, looking up at him with wide suggestive eyes. 

“Here? Now?” Neil whispered, slightly shocked at the girl’s suggestion. “Are you insane?” He whispered beside her ear, his voice laced with perverted desire though he tried to shake it from his voice, still wanting to be the voice of reason. 

“Neil…” she muttered at him and petted his crotch with slow, heavy moves. 

“What?” He whispered, an edge in his voice. His forehead was still creased and he tried to even out his breath as his cock pushed against every touch of her hand. 

“You’re supposed to say, As. You. Wish.” She squeezed her thighs around his legs, just below his hips and wrapped her hands around his hips. Neil raised an eyebrow and laughed lightly. He watched her as she bore into his eyes, thick with desire. He looked her up and down and reached both hands beneath her skirt again, pulling her underwear down over her butt. She had to lean back slightly as he dragged the cotton wad down over her gogo boots. He looked down at the underwear in his palm and trilled his lips lowly. 

“This is a bit more involved than I was expecting but I’m all for it,” he shrugged with a loose smirk and put the underwear on the desk beside them. She smiled and pulled on his dress shirt, prompting him to give her a satisfying kiss. 

“You were the one who suggested that I see your office,” she giggled quietly. 

“I needed a sense of adventure.” He muttered against her lips, his eyes closed. 

“Neil… Adventure?” She smiled lazily and stroked his jaw, her short nails running dully down his neck. 

“I like the sound of that,” he continued to kiss her, his nose crushing against her cheek. A knock at the door made them both jump and Neil turned around quickly, shielding her from the view of whomever was at the door. 

“Neil! We’re starting the movie now and Jonathan doesn’t know how to work the player. You gotta fix it.” Lucien yelled through the door. His silhouette showed through the frosted glass. 

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned quietly and rubbed his face. His erection fell slightly at the interruption and he sighed. “Ok, Lucien. I’m coming!” He smiled falsely as he yelled back his response.   

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” Lucien mumbled beneath his breath and hurried back into the store area. 

“I’ll see you out there,” Neil cringed and fixed his suit as much as he could. 

“Break a leg,” she smiled and hopped off of the desk, her underwear still sitting on the desk. She pulled them back on over her gogo boots and followed him out. Neil walked around to the back of the tv and checked the cables. She watched from the back of the room, a deep blush spreading across her face as she noticed the places where her red lipstick had left smudges around his mouth. She smiled down at her boots and bit her lip, trying to compose herself. Neil stepped back in front of the tv with Jonathan and announced the movie, lipstick still smudged around his wide lips. 

“And now, Gumshoe Video presents the 1963 The Kiss of the Vampire,” he extended his hands to the small square tv and waggled his fingers. The audience laughed and hooted. Some glanced over at her and smiled, she blushed deeper. 

“Nice touch,” one guy called from the couches and Neil stared at him blankly, his eyes then slowly drifting to her. She pointed at her mouth and rested her chin on her fist. Neil laughed it off and winked as he stepped aside and the movie started. She sat down on the couch in the back and scooted to the side as Neil joined her, collapsing with an anxious exhale. 

“Kissed by a vampire,” he shook his head, “why didn’t I think of that? That would have been a perfect costume.” He spoke with his hands, and shrugged his shoulders. She hid her face in her hands to hide her smile. “Was it really that noticeable?” He whispered and she nodded, embarrassed. 

“Sorry,” she giggled quietly and wiped the lipstick smudges from his face with her thumb. Jonathan moved around the spread of couches and perched on the edge of the couch beside them. 

“Nice touch, Neil. I think it makes the viewing experience more realistic.” Jonathan snarked and Neil rolled his eyes. 

“Shut up, Jonathan.” Neil sighed and massaged his face, pulling down on the skin. Jonathan winked at her and she smiled. Jonathan drifted off as the movie started and the title card appeared. As Neil relaxed into the couch, his hand found her thigh and rubbed his knuckles across her thigh. She leaned against him, her head resting against the wing of his shoulder as he moved his arm around her. 

…

“What’d you think of the movie?” Neil shoved his hands into his pockets as they locked up Gumshoe Video, the store now completely dark. 

“It’s a classic vampire movie,” she shrugged and smiled, “no notes,” she added. 

It had stopped raining but the sidewalks were littered with shallow puddles of dark water. Neil chuckled and placed one hand on the small of her back as they turned away from the store. 

“I thought you’d like it,” Neil smirked and she raised her eyebrow. 

“Why?”

“You would 100% be the kind of girl to get abducted by an insanely attractive vampire and fall in love with him.” 

“Well would he suck my blood at the end and kill me?” She pretended to consider the universe that Neil was suggesting. 

“Oh of course,” Neil shrugged his shoulders up to his ears and furrowed his brows playfully. 

“I can’t see it,” she shook her head and clasped her hands behind her back as they walked. She looked down at her shoes and smiled. Neil fell silent for a moment, his eyes once again trailing her up and down. 

“Have I told you how amazing you look?” Neil cleared his throat. 

“Yes, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again,” she blushed and cocked her head to the side, looking into his eyes as they walked. Neil wet his lips and stopped, looking her up and down once again. 

“You look amazing.” He said seriously and she looked away, self-conscious. They were stopped in front of Neil’s house, a two-story craftsman in a dark green color that looked dark blue in the darkness. She looked from the house to Neil’s face, the front porch light reflecting in his bright blue eyes. Neil laughed awkwardly when he realized that they had stopped at his house. 

“Will you come inside?” He twisted his hips casually, jerking his head once at the front door. The girl exhaled shakily and nodded. 

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She answered with a nervous smile. 

Neil broke into a large smile, the lines of his cheekbones stretching down to the edge of his jaw beside his pink lips. They climbed the stairs to the house and Neil let her inside, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she stepped into the house in front of him. Neil closed the door behind him, exhaling slowly. She met his eyes when she turned back and smiled shyly when she noticed how he stared at her. 

“Do you want to kiss me?” She asked him quietly. Neil nodded emphatically, his hand still on the doorknob behind him. 

“Then come here and kiss me,” she whispered and turned fully to face him. She felt her cunt grow hot and heat billowed down her thighs. Neil clenched his jaw and swallowed, his eyes now fixed on the girl’s mouth. He pushed himself off of the door and approached her, his hips swaying slightly as he walked. She kept her arms by her side as Neil wrapped gentle fingers around her upper arms, right above her elbows, and held his lips within inches of hers. She savored the way he smelled, like laundry detergent and mouthwash. He smelled like what she imagined domestic masculinity would smell like if it could be bottled. She sighed softly before he kissed her, his lips drawing hers between his. He held her in place, not aggressively, and kissed her, moving his head occasionally to taste her from different angles. 

When he broke away she took a step back and clasped her hands behind her back girlishly. Neil laughed like a schoolboy, shocked by the surge of desire and energy he felt just from the kiss. 

“Can I take you upstairs?” He leaned his arm against the wall and pointed to the staircase in front of them. She bit her lip, trying to stop from laughing hysterically from nerves. She took a step backwards and stepped onto the bottom step, facing Neil. 

“Ask me again,” she teased and bit her lip harder. Neil exhaled sharply as he felt his cock twitch aggressively in his pants. The dark room threw her body into shadow and the windows above the stairs illuminated her silhouette. He wet his lips and asked again. 

“Can I take you upstairs?” 

She could still make out his blue eyes in the dark as the windows provided enough light to catch their color. She took a few more steps up, still facing him. 

“As you wish,” she whispered. Neil laughed, thrilled by her little game. He hurried up the stairs but she kept a few steps between them at all times until she reached the top of the stairs. She backed up into the wall beside the window and allowed Neil to close in on her. Neil held her hips in his large hands and kissed her again, this time snaking his tongue into her mouth, testing the waters. They stumbled away from the stairs and rushed into a doorway, Neil catching himself on the doorframe with both arms so that he could turn her around. He twisted her around so that her back was to his bed. 

Neil’s room was exactly as one would expect. His walls were decorated with movie posters with the addition of a few select female movie stars that he had the hots for. He helped the girl back onto the bed and leaned over her on the bed. She weaved her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck and traced his jaw with her palms. He worked quickly to pull off her gogo boots and slipped off his suit jacket. She moved onto her knees on the edge of the mattress and slid each button out of its eyelet on his power blue shirt. Neil shrugged it off and pulled each sleeve over his wrists, dropping it to the floor. She pressed her hands against his chest and placed a few shaky kisses against his warm skin. Neil sighed pleasurably and swept her hair over her shoulders to lie flat down her back. Looking up at him, she moved her hand down to the zipper at his crotch. Neil’s eye widened as she unzipped his fly and slid her hand down into the front of his hands, beneath his underwear. She cupped his erection in her hand and rubbed her hand down the hot and trembling length. Neil sputtered as she stroked him, his hands returned to the bed on either side of her body. She leaned down so that she could kiss the side of his neck while she jerked him off. Precum coated his cock so her hand slid easily over him and she shivered when she heard Neil gasp softly beside her ear. 

“Fuck, you’re full of fucking suprises,” he panted and squeezed his eyes shut. She exhaled against his neck and left a fresh hickey before responding. 

“This isn’t a movie, Neil. You can’t predict the ending.” 

She pulled her hand out of his pants and kissed his briefly as she scooted farther into the bed. Neil watched her breathlessly, his face hot. He watched her as she unzipped the side of her dress and pulled it over her head. Her bare breasts confronted the cold air by hardening. Neil’s jaw nearly fell open when he saw her, exposed like that. All that remained on her body was the cotton underwear which he allowed his gaze to linger on, camouflage by her thighs. She laid back on the bed and propped herself up on her elbows, her stomach trembling with nerves and desire. Neil’s erection pushed noticeably against his boxers. With his eyes still trained on the girl, he pushed down his pants and crawled onto the bed, stopping over her. He lowered his mouth to her neck and kissed the soft flesh there, savoring how warm she was against his mouth. She worked her underwear down and he could feel her hips shift on the mattress which thrilled him. He sat back to look at her, fully nude now. He raised her leg into the air and kissed down her calf, stopping at the underside of her knee. 

“I want to fuck you,” Neil saidbreathlessly as he moved his fingers down her thigh. She smiled darkly, her bow mouth drawn up into a smirk. His cock throbbed in his underwear and hovered above her navel.

“Say it again,” she whispered. Neil raised an eyebrow and exhaled anxiously.

“I want to fuck you.” 

“Again.”

“I want,” he leaned down to her ear and shoved a finger inside her gently, “to fuck you.” She whimpered and bit her lip. 

“Again,” she struggled to say the words, her cheeks flushed. 

“No, honey. You’re supposed to say, as you wish.” Neil whispered against her skin, his finger curling inside her. He smiled when she squirmed and moaned. 

“Ah, fuck- fuck me,” she gasped before Neil crushed his mouth against hers. He pulled down his boxers just enough to free his erection and centered himself at her cunt which was throbbing as much as he was. 

“As you wish,” he chuckled and removed his finger, swapping it out for his cock. He pushed in gently, working his tip inside her slowly as she squirmed needily beneath him. She was tight from nerves and inexperience and he whined despite himself as he went deeper. Her hands found his back and gripped into his flesh. He watched as his cock struggled to fit all the way inside her and moaned loudly when he saw her mouth held open in pleasurable shock. 

“Is it ok?” He groaned and stroked her flushed cheek. Her red lipstick was smudged again on her chin and he swiped his thumb across it. 

“Mmhm, yes.” She nodded and bit her lip as he thrusted in farther. Once her body got used to his length, he was able to pull out and thrust back in. It took only seconds but the sensations felt as though they were happening over hours. He fucked her gently but fast, his hips rocking against hers and shaking the mattress. She pushed her heels into the mattress and arched her hips up into his pelvis. Neil found it delightfully needy and thrusted deeper, eliciting a loud gasp from the girl.  

“Do you like that?” Neil smiled and cupped her chin with his hand. 

“Uh huh, yeah.” She panted as her eyes rolled back into her head. 

“You’re being such a good girl,” Neil praised her and cussed beneath his breath as he felt her walls tighten around him. His hips bucked aggressively into her over and over again and she yelled and gasped in pleasure. He looked down at his cock, slick with her precum, sliding in and out of her. He held her thighs and coaxed her deeper onto his cock, she gasped and bit her lip, her breasts bouncing against her chest. Neil groaned at the sight and fucked her messily, lossing control as he felt how wet she and tight she was getting as she neared her orgasm. 

“Good girl! I’m so close.” He panted quietly and she wrapped her fingers loosely around the nape of his neck. 

“Cum inside me,” she pleaded. 

“What?”

“Cum inside me,” she repeated, more delirious with pleasure.

“Say it again,” he smirked, playing her at her own game.

“Cum. in. me.” Her words tumbled out in a jumbled mess as she started to climax. Her thighs were tightening and her muscles flexed. He groaned helplessly as she came around him.

“As you wish,” he managed to answer as he buckled his hips against her and prompted himself to finish inside, spilling cum into her. He thrusted as he finished and exhaled when he finally pulled out. She worked to catch her breath as he collapsed beside her on the bed. 

“Fuck.” He sighed and rubbed his face. 

“Yeah.” She laughed lightly and cupped her cunt, still riding out the lasting waves of climax. 

[dailyd0ses]

Sway With Me

The soft click of the door behind you both signaled the end of a wonderful night. The warmth of the restaurant still lingered in the air, the scent of red wine and candle wax clinging to your clothes. Patti let out a satisfied sigh, kicking off her heels with practiced ease, her lips curling into a small smile as she glanced your way.

"Tired?" she asked, her voice husky with exhaustion but still carrying that ever-present charm.

"A little," you admitted, stretching your arms before letting them fall to your sides. "But it was a perfect night."

Patti hummed in agreement, walking further into the dimly lit living room. The soft glow of the fireplace cast flickering shadows across the walls, bathing her in a golden hue that made your heart skip a beat. She turned toward you, something playful dancing in her eyes.

"Come here," she murmured, extending her hand.

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. "What are you up to?"

Patti wiggled her fingers impatiently. "Just trust me, darling."

How could you resist? You slipped your hand into hers, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours. She pulled you closer, her free hand resting lightly on your waist as she guided you toward the center of the room.

"Wait, are we—"

A slow melody filled the air, rich and velvety, seeping from the speakers like liquid gold. Patti smirked, clearly pleased with herself as she began to sway, leading you in an effortless rhythm.

"You planned this, didn’t you?" you teased, letting yourself melt into her hold.

"I may have had a little idea," she admitted, twirling you gently before pulling you back in, her arms wrapping around you securely. "I just didn’t want the night to end yet."

Your chest ached in the best way, warmth spreading through you like honey. The fire crackled beside you, the soft music weaving around your movements, and in that moment, there was nothing but her. The world outside could wait.

Patti guided you into a slow spin, her eyes never leaving yours. She dipped you unexpectedly, a mischievous grin forming on her lips as you let out a small, surprised laugh.

"Show-off," you whispered breathlessly, your fingers curling against her shoulder.

She chuckled, her thumb tracing slow circles against your back. "Maybe. But you love it."

You did. More than you could ever put into words.

The dance continued, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment. And as Patti pulled you upright once more, she leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before resting her cheek against yours.

"Let’s do this forever," she murmured.

You closed your eyes, feeling the steady beat of her heart against your own.

"Yeah," you whispered back, "forever sounds good."

(My delusional ass- I apologize for the cheesy song <3)

[kairiscorner]

Hello! Do you mind writing a hobie x reader where they’re both babysitting mayday for Peter and hobie seeing the reader play with mayday gives him major baby fever? Sorry if you already wrote something like this 😭😭

HIII ANON !! i don't mind, i've actually been meaning to make content like this but just now got the oomph to do it :DD here ya go, hope ya like it <33

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

big brother hobie's here — hobie brown x reader

hobie came into the room looking for you, when he happened upon you in the small playroom reserved for mayday, he didn't dare approach you; he was entranced by how sweet you were while playing with mayday. he sat back on a chair without you realizing as he smiled to himself at how gentle your voice was as you played along with her a little game of peek-a-boo, and how bright your smile was as you pretended to disappear before the redheaded young girl's eyes and reappear by showing her your face the was filled with love and adoration for the infant.

hobie took out the small camcorder he made and chuckled lightly and sighed in adoration as he watched you two play. hobie absolutely loved mayday, and he loved you of course, it was a given–but seeing you both play and giggle together happily... it made hobie's heart melt. "hey, loves, what are you two up to?" he asked as he reached his hand out for mayday as he kept recording. you smiled and jokingly placed your hand in front of the camera. "just playing peek-a-boo." you said as mayday pat hobie's palm with her own tiny hands. "ooh, well, how 'bout we play a round of patty cake for a change?" he offered as mayday smiled up at hobie. you were onboard with it, and soon, you three were playing patty cake, with hobie only playing with one hand expertly.

"hobie, you gotta play with both hands, that's the rule." you said as hobie chuckled loudly as mayday followed him with her own peals of giggles. "screw the rules." hobie uttered, with mayday trying to repeat what he said. "scoo da woos!" "a little anarchist in the making, i'm damn proud!" hobie exclaimed as you shushed both of them for their language. hobie soon stopped playing patty cake mid-game to tickle mayday, with her erupting in small giggles. you then joined hobie to tickle mayday, with him putting the camcorder down and now tickling you. you tickled him back as all of you laughed and giggled throughout the tickle fight. mayday soon fell sleepy, and hobie scooped her up to take her to her crib. you noticed the camcorder was still filming, though you didn't want to end the recording right here and now when such a sweet moment was unfolding. you carried the camera with you and filmed you and hobie taking mayday to the crib and with him crooning her to sleep.

"sweet dreams, little rebel." he whispered to her as the infant smiled in her sleep. you closed the camcorder as you accompanied hobie who was sitting right next to the crib, watching over mayday as she slept. "no wonder you're peter's number one babysitter." you teased as you looked through the photos and videos hobie took of you guys taking care of mayday. he chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. "she's a darling, and she's got so much potential in the future. i want nothing but the best for her. and give yourself a little credit, too, okay? i don't babysit her alone, i've got you, love." he said as you smiled at him, with him reciprocating it with a smirk of his own.

as mayday babbled in her sleep, hobie found himself smiling wider as he hoped she was having good dreams. he held you close as he listened and watched the young girl take a nap and getting ready to play with and entertain her the moment she woke up again. hobie couldn't deny it any longer, he was an absolute sucker for the little anarchist, and he was just so damn happy to take care of her with you.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee @arachnoia

[imorynn]

ᯓ★ ─── Through A Black & White Lens : A Bond Captured ( p.lupone )

ᯓ★ pairings : patti lupone • fem!reader ( what could’ve been but never occurred )

ᯓ★ summary : ⸺ IN WHICH you and she were deeply in love back in the 60s when you were both starring in something rather big together, but it never happened. Always something brewing beneath the surface. Constantly being around one another. Have insane chemistry and ease with one another. She fell in love with a woman; you. As did you, yet of course, nothing came out of it besides heartbreak and ache and yearning, and no one in the public knew about it — there are pictures from back then between you and her hugging, holding hands, being close to one another, and a bit of social media— this generation now thinks or teases 'surely they must've been something during these times, I mean look at them!', though some conformed with the idea of two women simply being platonic soulmates. Then in 1988, LuPone married, and that was that.

You've seen each other in award shows, and brief gatherings, and even spoke about one another during interviews if they brought up the well-known Broadway hit you both starred in. There was always positivity in one another's words. A warmth, a melancholy, a softness no one quite can put a finger on. You never really reached out to her, and neither did she — but you did send her flowers — her favorite ones after every single performance, giving her the notion that you were out there, somewhere in the crowd, but not exactly ready to see her face to face. Here and there sure, probably somewhere along the 2010s you went out for a drink with her, but never something occasional.

And that saddened her. Saddened you. You both had a very special, warm, and deep bond. The what if’s, but’s, could’ve’s, should’ve’s.

Who would have thought that you BOTH would be starring in the 2024 Marvel series, Agatha All Along: Coven of Chaos? Your character is as significant as Death. How due to this, the press tour, the interviews the pictures, the series, and palpable chemistry, images resurface — moments captured when you and Patti were younger — created a buzz during the press tour ( I also have one coming out between Aubrey plaza and Kathryn Hahn — capturing their mannerisms is so amazing 😭 ).

It’s not only another door opening to new Marvel characters, but a door reopening between two stars who shared an immense relationship back then. The photos, showing shared laughter, choreography sessions, and close, intimate interactions. This particular interview is set apart from Marvel. Something just for you two.

ᯓ★ things that should be mentioned : Patti LuPone is MARRIED, there’s no such thing as her cheating on her husband or anything — it’s FICTION ( inspired by intuition that I’m damn certain Ms. LuPone at some point was in love with a woman — ). I know it’s a rather different territory when it comes to real life, but there’s no inappropriate themes within here — just fiction, fun and something for you to fill in the lines with your own delusions :,>

ᯓ★ a/n : So — was it wrong for me to write a tiny something something for Patti LuPone instead of one of the characters SHE PORTRAYED? :,)) DO NOT SUE ME — I’m just a girl who’s in the sheer depths of being delusional. I’m enamored with this — I hope you all enjoy, comment what you think <33

The interviewer starts with routine questions about the project — its themes, the process, your experiences, your characters, the joys and challenges of working together again after all these years. But there’s a flicker of anticipation within the room, waiting to be ignited. You sense it, and you’re certain Patti does too. The energy transforms when the interviewer leans forward with a knowing smile, setting their notes aside and brings out a few grainy, black-and-white shots that’s the two of you, young and beautiful, captured in a moment of unguarded affection.

A candid of Patti, young and dark-haired, with one arm draped over your shoulders while both of yours loosely rested around her waist in that unconscious familiarity — you both serious and engrossed to something one of the members of the cast or the crew was uttering.

Y/N squinting : That must’ve been during a rehearsal break. We were always like that — always gravitating toward each other somehow.

Patti snorts but nods : Jesus, I look like I'm about to give orders to invade Normandy.

The next slides into view, Patti is mid-laugh, her eyes crinkled with mirth as she kept her eyes focused on you and her nose adorably scrunched, mouth wide open in a way that feels utterly heedless. You are caught mid-step, clearly attempting some complicated move — your arms out of sync, one leg a bit off balance. The expression on your face is a mix of concentration and exasperation, as if you have just realized you are about to miss the beat. In the corner, the choreographer is blurred but visibly holding their head in their hands, as if praying for patience.

Y/N huffs out a groan : That choreography was hell for me. I could never get that turn right. This one couldn't stop teasing me.

Patti smirks and loosely raises a finger : I remember that day, and I did end up helping you. You were so frustrated, but when you finally got it, you did it better than anyone else. *turns to the camera and raises brows with a scoff* She’s underselling herself — she was brilliant.

Then there was another image; a black-and-white shot of you and Patti during a cast party. Your head was tipped back in bubbles of laughter, your smile vibrant and unguarded and intoxicated, while Patti leaned close with her chin nestled in her palm, watching you with hazed eyes and a grin that could only be described as adoring. Staring at you as if you hung the moon itself.

Y/N, smiling softly : I forgot about that night.

Patti hums and crosses her legs : We had one too many drinks, and by we I mean you —

Y/N : Please, you can't separate yourself and a bar from one another, you were just as up there as I was that night.

Patti shakes her head : No, and if my memory doesn't fail me which it does NOT — *ignores how you scoff and waves a finger* I watched you. If it weren’t for the photography back in the day, you’d be able to see how flushed your cheeks were. All cheeky smiles and giggles you were. Meanwhile, sure, I'm smiling right there but I was also on alert, thinking you were going to do something stupid.

Y/N, leans in closer with a wider grin : Well I was with you that night wasn’t I? *she returns your grin with a one-shoulder shrug*

Another image; Patti, mid-rehearsal, practicing choreography with the dance captain while you stood off from a distance. She’s mid-motion, arms outstretched as he demonstrates a movement next to her. The hem of her black dress flutters faintly as she shifts, her focus razor-sharp, brows quirked in concentration.

Off to the side, almost out of frame, there’s you. Your posture is laid back but composed, script in your loosened grip, your lips slightly ajar as if caught mid-discussion with someone who is barely even visible in the shot. Yet, it’s unmistakable — your focus is not on the script, or the person you were speaking to. It's on her.

Expression soft and without a doubt fond. Smitten were your features, but you always claimed you were simply focused. Patti more than anyone knew that you gained that look when you believed no one was watching, especially when it came to her.

Patti tilts her head, brow hitching as she takes it in: Oh, God, *a mix of exasperation and amusement in her voice* Look at me. I’m practically sweating focus.

Y/N chuckled softly : You were always, always like that. Completely immersed. Nothing could distract you when you were working.

Patti turns, smiling slyly with a snort bubbling up her throat : Except you, apparently. Caught in the act, huh? Staring at me while pretending to care about your lines.

Y/N laughs, shaking head : I wasn’t pretending. I was… multitasking. You were impossible to ignore, Patti. You still are.

Patti rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless : Well, you weren’t exactly inconspicuous, were you? I can feel you staring, even in this photo. *motions to photo*

Interviewer : It’s fascinating to see how much this image captures without meaning to. A lot of fans speculated them. There’s a kind of… unspoken connection between you, even in the way the shot is composed.

Patti leans back, arm rested on the back of her chair while crossing her legs : That’s the thing, isn’t it? We weren’t just colleagues. There was always this… awareness. Of each other. Of what the other was doing, how they were feeling. It’s in the work, but it’s also in moments like this.

Y/N nods and adjusts posture : It’s like the work gave us permission to be connected. Even when we weren’t speaking, even when we were on opposite sides of the stage — or the room, apparently — it was there.

Patti glances at you : Well, for what it’s worth, *tilts chin up with a small smirk* you were decent at multitasking. Those lines? You nailed them.

Y/N laughs, smile widening : And you nailed the choreography, and pretty much everything. As always.

Yet there was one particular image, one said “lost” like fragments of an untold story. Snapshots of a connection so vivid and raw it feels almost tangible. The most famous of these — the one that resurfaces like wildfire following your candid admission — is electric in its intimacy. It’s not staged, not posed or polished; it’s messy, unfiltered, and so very human.

Your younger self, all sharp angles and mischief, leaning into a young, breathtaking as always, Patti. Your hand, adorned with the bold, unmistakable rings you always wore back then, cradles her face, her chin nestled within the dip connecting your thumb and pointer finger. The metal of your jewelry caught the faintest glint of light even in the monochrome image, contrasting the softness of the moment. The pads of your digits press into her cheek, mushing her features with a teasing manner that’s somehow deeply tender as if to mold her into some jesting version of herself. Your lips are curled, caught mid-action, pearly whites lightly nipping at the high structure of her cheekbone. It’s a gesture both absurdly affectionate and completely disarming.

Patti is caught laughing, her mouth wide, the pretty rows of teeth glistening in the grayscale. One of her hands clasps loosely to your wrist as if anchoring herself to the moment, while the other disappears into the strands of your hair, disheveling them slightly. Her touch looks both instinctive and possessive like she can’t help but claim you in that fraction of a second.

Yet it’s the details that transition the photograph into a lively experience, a memory. The faintest bloom of her scarlet lipstick can be seen on the quirk of your mouth and on the collar of your shirt, a telltale mark of a kiss shared seconds before or perhaps purloined in between wisps and bubbles of giggles. The bridge of your nose is crinkled in laughter, your lashes shadowing beneath your eyes as they’re half-closed, caught somewhere between puckish and endearment. Hers, however, are open and round and alive, beaming with that unguarded, boisterous joy that Patti was known to express when in your presence. Wild, untamed, intimate.

The photo feels impossibly near, as though the photographer captured it from mere centimeters away. And yet, there’s no artifice to it. It’s candid in every sense of the word — a glimpse into something private and unspoken, a moment that wasn’t meant for anyone but the two of you.

Your head bows back with laugh while Patti’s eyes narrow slightly as if in faux irritation, but a grin tugs at the corners of her red lips. She leans forward, resting her elbow on the arm of her chair, her gaze flicking from the image to you.

Y/N, holding the print of the image with a small smile, playfully wiping the corner of your mouth as if the lipstick smudge was still there : Goodness. I didn’t even know this one was out there. Was wondering when it would pop out.

Interviewer : And ? What’s the story behind it ?

Patti, seated beside you, leans over to catch a glimpse. She laughs almost immediately — a sharp, unfiltered sound that’s so unmistakably hers, cutting through the room like a blade.

Patti : Oh for crying out loud. *takes the picture from your hold, stares at it for a moment before looking back up at you with an eye roll* Was this after rehearsal? Curtain call? Or one of those cast parties where everyone got far too comfortable? Don’t remember but someone had a camera, snapping photos while we were all blowing off steam.

Y/N leans forward, propping elbows on knees : Blowing off steam is one way to put it. She was yelling at me about something. I can’t remember what — it was probably something ridiculous.

Patti : Ridiculous ? *turning to face you fully* You kept singing my lines under your breath, trying to trip me up!

Y/N grins : And it worked. She got so mad, I had to go and force her to look at me. *glances at her* She can’t stay mad at me forever. The more I grabbed her face, the more it led her to kiss me right here as a threat. *gestures to the spot* Lovely threat.

You nor her go into the details or exactness of it all however, how it truly occurred — a lie, a twine of an illusion of something you both had fabricated, nor point out the print mark of her lips on the fabric of your shirt. That was only for you both to know. Yes, she was a bit angry that day, but the night had been a success. You managed to get her to fully see that by bringing her into your hold and smothering her with your playful and affectionate tactics. Goodness, did it work — she glowed with you. She glowed for you. Because of you.

Interviewer with raised brow and teasing smile : And the bite ?

Patti, laughs loosely and snorts : This one bites with ‘cuteness overload anxiety’. Someone just snapped the shot without us even noticing it.

Patti holds the image up to the light, her gaze narrowing slightly, like if she’s inspecting every detail : Look at that, *her tone blunt as she glares* You mauled me.

Y/N, voice low and teasing : You didn’t seem to mind that day. Besides, it was worth having you smile again.

Patti waves a hand, grinning widely : Was it not normal for women to kiss even then? God forbid we enjoy ourselves. *pauses, her tone dipping into something light, more reflective* But look at us. So happy and young.

Interviewer, senses an opportunity : Was there something more between you two?

Patti cuts them off with a sharp laugh, her head tilting back : Oh, they always ask, don’t they? *turns to you, eyebrows raised* Should we give them the answer they’ve been waiting for? Or let them keep wondering?

Y/N is quiet for a beat, letting the weight of the moment settle.

Y/N smiles lightly : I think the picture says more than we ever could.

Patti, amused but satisfied, is about to hand the photograph back to the interviewer : Well, there ya have it. Two women, enjoying life and each other’s company. Nothing wrong with that.

Patti pauses halfway, glances at you then at the photo, then at the interviewer with a raised brow before withdrawing her hand, the very hand that holds the photograph : For the record, I’m damn keeping this.

Y/N — you laugh softly, and for a second or so, it feels like no time has passed at all. The photograph might belong to the past, but the nostalgia, the melancholy, the warmth it stirs ? That is timeless.

─── ᯓ★

[basil-does-arttt]

What kind of humour would the dmc characters have?

Dante, especially after meeting Patty and Nero, loves a classic dad joke. He makes them so often that Lady and Trish just roll their eyes with a groan at this point, lol. Somewhere in the office he's got a book stashed away thats just a collection of dad jokes. Vergil i think seems like he doesn't have any sense of humor at all when you first meet him, but we know from DMC 3 he LOVES his sarcasm. Teasing, sarcastic quips and being sassy with people, even if he isn't full on laughing at it, is something i think he finds really funny. Only if its because it pisses other people (Dante) off. Nero's sense of humor i think is the same as a teenage boy's sense of humor. Gross and sometimes it makes you want to slap him across the face, but there are occasional moments where his jokes are genuinely funny and make you giggle a bit (before you force yourself to stop because that was NOT funny at all, didn't laugh one bit.) That and cat memes. Nico is the same, they egg eachother on untill one of them has to shut it down because its just getting a little bit TOO much. Lady i think enjoys dark humor, maybe a little bit too much at times. Its just her way of coping, yknow? Never any dark jokes to do with children though, she thinks thats crossing a line. Trish i think has a similar sense of humor to Vergil, but rather than pissing people off, she does it to see how flustered she can make somebody before they run away (ESPECIALLY Lady. seeing how red she can turn Lady before the poor woman has to retreat otherwise she'd explode... Trish's favourite past-time :3) Kyrie, partly in thanks to taking care of children for a good chunk of time, enjoys simple jokes that are usually reserved for little kids (stuff like "why did the chicken cross the road"). But also, i think she'd make the occasional dark joke herself. Its never anything too outrageous or shocking, but sometimes it is enough to make Nero pause and ask if she's okay lmao.

[thelaughtercafe]

Soul Eater Ler Headcanons

Tea Type: Brown Sugar Boba

Potential Triggers: N/A

Pairing: Soul/F! Reader, Death the Kid/F! Reader, Black Star/F! Reader, Maka/F! Reader. Tsubaki/F! Reader, Liz/F! Reader, Patty/F! Reader, Stein/F! Reader

Length: 1.5k+

Summary: N/A

Soul Eater Evans:

Soul is very casual most of the time and I feel like tickling someone to pieces wouldn’t be any different. 

Like Maka, takes it in complete stride which his Lee likely wouldn’t expect if they’d hidden it from him out of fear for any length of time. 

He finds this hysterical and incredibly endearing at the same time, leading to him laughing at you good-naturedly. 

“Damn, you went that long without something you wanted out of some misguided sense of feeling weird? You could’ve just told me, ya know. I tickle Blackstar and Maka all the time, Hell you’ve seen me do it. You had to know I wouldn’t mind.”

When you fumbled to explain it was different he sighed and rubbed his head. 

“Man, you’re hopeless. Least now I know why you ran away all those times. Must’ve been really embarrassing for you, huh?”

He grinned, wiggling his fingers at you eagerly as he cornered you.  

“Welp, guess all we can do is make up for lost time huh? C'mere so I can help you experience what you’ve wanted so bad first hand!”

He’s not a chaser, prefers for you and him to be more stationary. 

Admittedly gets a kick at seeing you try to hold your arms up or not struggle too much, even though a cool guy like him could totally overpower you.  

Reassures you in his own way too, bringing it up casually after wrecking you after you both had a stressful test that day. 

“Y'know, the others won’t mind tickling you either. Even on the fraction of a chance they’re not willing to- they wouldn’t make fun of you for it. Even if they did, they’d have me to deal with!”

He flashed a shark-toothed grin your way. 

“You like being tickled. So what? C'mon, say it. I know you can!”

Messes with you for a few days and sessions until you finally spit the words out. 

He doesn’t tickle you directly till you get it out- only giving a quick poke or huff of air along your neck or ears to make you jump, around the others that prick-until you crack. 

He’s kind’ve mean about it, honestly, but he does it to help you not hide who you are from the others. It’s all out of love in the end. 

Rubs it in your face so hard when he ends up right. Doesn’t let you live it down ever. 

Expect group tickle sessions for a while too just to be extra sure you got the message it’s not a big deal. 

Maka Albarn:

Maka is really intuned with everyone around her and that translates to when she Ler’s too. 

She senses the little things- the way someone leans into her touch when they like a spot. 

She’s kind too- not the type to call you out and tease you for it like Soul or Stein, and if she does it’s playful and she’ll immediately admit she liked it just as much as you.  

She loves to make others happy, and this is no exception. She views it as perfectly natural and normal and just about Maka-Chop’s you anytime you put yourself down. 

You learn to accept your little quirk with her and the rest of your friends help. 

Black Star:

God Blackstar is a rough one. 

Good luck, the second he finds out you’re ticklish I hope you like it because he’s gonna use it to mess with you constantly. 

Getting out of things, making you forgive him for small mistakes, you name it he’ll implement tickling somehow if it fits. 

And when Tsubaki finally spells it out for him that you like it? 

Even training isn’t safe then and he is merciless in that environment when he’s focused so trust- you both do and don’t wanna be caught by him. 

He’s loud when he teases so you have to be direct and tell him not in public, and remind him if it bothers you fairly often otherwise the whole damn school is gonna know. 

Speaking of teasing, KING of teases.

I’m blushing just thinking about it. 

“Wow, is this really all you can handle? I know it’s a tall order because you’re up against a big star like me, but I’ll have to help you build up your stamina and endurance.”

“You’re lucky there’s no Kishin who tickle their victims; otherwise you’d be a goner for sure! Luckily you have the great Blackstar to help you as a failsafe precaution! Aren’t you lucky?”

300% uses his Ninja skills to fuck with you.  

Sorry I don’t make the rules. 

You called his bluff when he was just starting out and assumed he was loud and obnoxious with no other mode and boy did that backfire on you horribly. 

After finding out you like being tickled, guess who now has a way to show you just how well he can sneak up on people whenever and wherever he wants?

Uses tickles as a reward/motivation too, to keep you training with him just that little bit longer than you usually would. 

Tsubaki:

Gosh she’s so flustering as a Ler without even trying. 

It’s because she’s so sincere and gentle. 

It makes her amusement and sweet teases all the more effective. 

“Aww you’re so precious like this! I’ve gotta do this more often!”

She’s one of the easiest Lers to go to, especially if you want relaxing tickles. 

She’s so gentle technique wise, really only using spidering and stroking but it still tickles like Hell. 

The only one who can reign Blackstar in with either tickling him or just talking sense.  

Death the Kid:

Kid is generally very put together and that translates to when he lers. 

Of course, he has to tickle symmetrically which means his poor Lee will have to put up with either both his hands or two tools at once. 

The only good thing is that means you know the sensations are predictable. 

Unless he has Liz and Patty help. Then? Then they’re really in trouble, because they’ll do the same, but as long as they keep the same technique? Kid’s fine letting them have variety from him. Predictability neutralized. 

Unintentionally so flustering, holy shit. 

Kid is naturally very logical and serious, and has a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. That man’s smirk is lethal. 

Absolutely uses this to his advantage. After all, he has to make both of your cheeks the same pretty shade of red, and what better way to do that then make it cover your whole face~?

“Oh come now, surely it can’t tickle that badly? You’re flattering me.”

Can’t stop at an uneven time- works together with his Lee to get to 88 minutes for perfect symmetry. 

He’ll stop before that if needed of course, but it’s typically best when the numbers match. 

Patty:

Brings out of her Lee’s childish natures with her own. 

Tends to giggle happily along with her Lee and is one of the Lers most often to start tickle fights and the like. 

Adores how much fun it is to make her friends, family and s/o’s laugh omg. 

It’s why she does it so often. 

Most think she’s not smart but really, she’s quite aware. She just chooses to embrace her more childish side openly. 

Loves to tease her Lee’s and pouts when she has to stop or gets pulled away by Liz. 

“Aww but why? They’re so cute like this!!”

“Yes Patty but you kind of need them alive to tickle them more yeah? Let ‘em breathe, k?”

She salutes her sister all cute-like.

“K!!”

Switches spots often and has to get reminded by Kid to be more symmetrical if they’re Ler'ing someone together because she forgets a lot and it always makes her Lee jump in their grip. 

Liz:

Queen of self-care/self-comfort tickles, for both her Lee and herself. 

Compliments galore she’s so damn nice.

“Your laugh is so pretty, I swear. I’m so jealous!”

“Oh my God your nails are so cute!! You have to paint them for me later! Maybe if you agree to I’ll stop~”

Her teases are like that, mixed with her genuine compliments. 

The most merciful between her sister and Kid. 

Kid tends to get lost in the symmetry while tickling his Lee so if she’s helping or knows he’s gonna be Ler'ing someone she always reminds him to set an alarm so the poor Lee isn’t stuck there for 3 hours.

Definitely hasn’t happened more than once, nope. 

Not that the Lee was complaining-

Absolutely loves using her nails as a tickle tool. It’s her go-to method and she is good.

Stein:

Unsurprisingly, the scientist who loves to experiment, also does so when tickling. It’s just his nature. 

In addition to that he’s perceptive as Hell so good luck hiding your reactions. 

In all likelihood, he knows instinctively if a Lee enjoys it thanks to seeing their Soul and being able to sense their nature better than most. 

Let’s face it; Stein’s a complete sadist- and not only that- he’s very open about that fact. 

Which means if it gets to you that he’s like that he’ll absolutely call you out and mess with you with it, switching between his typically playful and analytical self and his more cruel side. 

Knows every tool out there, and relishes testing more unconventional ones too like back scratchers, combs and the like. 

That goes for enhancement methods too. Everything from oil, sensory deprivation, and bondage. Whatever he can think of, really. 

[sweetsugarcakes]

So happy to see a soul eater writter. How about Patti Thompson and Tsubaki dating headcanons~

im gladd ofc 💗

General relationship headcanons

Patty and Tsubaki

Patty Thompson

💗she’s such an cute airhead gf

💗she makes you cute stuff how out of paper and crayons during class instead of paying attention

💗she’ll always hug you that’s her favorite she’ll cling onto you the emote day if she wants

💗meanwhile she also loves cuddling, she doesn’t want you to leave her alone

💗she half of the time teases you with her jokes and just in general to make you flustered a bit

💗you twos dates are always fun and never bored

💗she’ll ask liz for advice that’s for sure and you Liz sometimes glaring you among sure you don’t hurt her little sis

💗she loves kissing you cheeks she thinks their so cute and puffy

Tsubaki Nakatsukasa

💜she’s so calm and elegant

💜she loves showing affection here and there but a bit timidly as she holds your hand, leans on you or hugs you for a while

💜she loves giving lip kisses she always kisses you lips. In the morning, the evening and even night

💜you twos stars are sunsets or nigh time, you tow just love walking around at night, it’s soothing

💜you tow help each other study and have a date out of it

💜you two love drinking teas together, she always makes you some to stay relaxed and focused

💜you and Blackstar are close and occasionally he’ll try to butt in on you guys’ business [basically a third wheel]

💜she’s literally the best girlfriend ever

[msmoon-and-the-cyberdemon]

Finished the Great God Grove!

[Slight spoilers!!]

What a beautiful game! I love Limbo Lane games for their character designs and the quirky personalities they're given (having watched gameplay of Smile for Me) so I was excited when GGG was teased last year.

All the gods are my favourite, but especially Cobigail. I remember she was one of the first gods teased by LimboLane and I fell in love with her instantly.

The gameplay feels great! My favourite sections were the BizzyBoy fights, but it felt especially cathartic with Patty and talking to him about standing up for himself. I understand now PattyPoke shippers...

It's a great game, definitely recommend!