#so now I’m curious what the writers are gonna do with him

[yourqueenb]

I think Linda’s gonna be the only one I don’t recruit. I agreed with a lot of the things she said during our interactions with her, but I don’t feel any sort of attachment to her like I do with the others. And she voted yes to MC being demoted so 😒

[wooattackrr]

Brewing Relationships

MDNI

wordcount: 1,437

a/n: after some thinking i think im gonna be a mingyu writer :)

The bell above the door jingled softly as you adjusted the register. The familiar scent of roasted coffee beans filled the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of pastries displayed on the counter. You had been working at Brewed Awakenings for several years, and while your routine had become comfortably monotonous, you had recently noticed a change. A new barista had joined the team—Mingyu.

He was tall, with broad shoulders that were slightly hunched as he focused intently on preparing orders. His dark hair fell just above his eyebrows, and he had a charming smile that made customers blush. Each time he flashed that grin your way, your heart fluttered, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him while you were cleaning up around the shop.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow through the windows, you both found yourselves alone in the shop for closing duties. The light was dimmer now, and the gentle hum of the espresso machine was the only sound accompanying your thoughts. You couldn’t deny the spark you felt with Mingyu—there was something about the way he moved and how he interacted with customers that drew you in.

“Hey, do you mind taking out the trash?” you asked him, sliding the bag toward him while you wiped down the counter. “I’ll finish cleaning up here.”

“Sure!” he replied, grinning as he grabbed the bag. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he added, “But only if you promise to make me a special drink when I get back.”

“Deal,” you said, unable to suppress a smile in return.

He left, and you took a moment to gather your thoughts. You didn’t just think Mingyu was cute; you were starting to find yourself captivated by him. The way he carried himself, his laughter, the low timbre of his voice... it all made your heart race.

After a minute, he returned, his expression bright as he leaned against the counter. “So, what’s this special drink?”

You paused to think for a moment, biting your lip as a playful idea struck you. “How about a ‘Mingyu Special’? I’ll whip up something just for you.”

“Ooh, I’m curious now,” he said, tilting his head slightly, his attention entirely on you.

You busied yourself behind the espresso machine, carefully choosing each ingredient, the flurry of emotions inside you mimicking the steam rising from the spout. You were mixing a blend of espresso, steamed milk, and a hint of caramel drizzle. As you worked, you could feel his gaze on you, and it sent shivers down your spine.

“Here you go,” you said finally, sliding the cup across the counter toward him. “What do you think?”

Mingyu took a sip, his eyes lighting up. “Wow, this is amazing! You really know your stuff,” he complimented, and a flush of pride warmed your cheeks.

“Thanks! I’ve had a lot of practice,” you replied, leaning against the counter casually.

The two of you continued to chat as the night progressed, your laughter filling the small shop. Every so often, you’d catch him stealing glances at you, and each time he did, your heart raced a little faster. The atmosphere was charged, the air thick with unspoken tension.

“Okay, I have to ask,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “What’s your secret? How do you make coffee taste that good?”

You paused, taken aback by the intensity in his expression. “It’s all in the passion, I guess. You have to really enjoy what you’re doing, or else what’s the point?”

“I get that,” he said, stepping closer. The space between you felt electric now, your breaths mingling in the dim light of the shop. “I really enjoy working here.”

Your heart jumped. “Me too,” you admitted softly, meeting his gaze.

For a moment, the world around you faded. It was just you and Mingyu, two souls drawn to each other in this little coffee shop. And then, as if the air around you thickened, he took a step closer, closing the distance.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” you murmured, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I’ve had a crush on you since my first day here,” he confessed, his cheeks flushing slightly. “You’re amazing at your job, and I think you’re really cute.”

Your breathing hitched. “You’ve had a crush on me?”

He nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. “Yeah, and I wasn’t sure how to say it. But now… I think we should do something about it.”

Your heart raced, excitement and nerves intertwining. “What did you have in mind?”

Mingyu stepped even closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “Maybe we could—”

Before he could finish, you leaned in, capturing his lips with your own. The kiss started softly, tentative, both of you consumed by the thrill of the moment. But soon it deepened, the warmth of his body pressing against yours, igniting a fire that spread through your veins.

You pulled back slightly to catch your breath, and he looked at you with a mix of surprise and desire. “Wow, I didn’t expect that,” he said breathlessly.

“Neither did I,” you admitted, your heart racing.

He grinned, an infectious smile lighting up his face. “So, what’s next?”

You took a step back, biting your lip as you played coy. “Well, we could close up the shop… and see where the night takes us.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

You nodded slowly, a playful smirk creeping onto your lips. “I think it’s time we take our relationship from coffee shop colleagues to something a little more... personal.”

His smile widened. “I’m all in.”

With the shop closing for the night, you locked the doors, ensuring privacy, leaving only the soothing glow of the fairy lights illuminating the space.

The atmosphere was heightened, your breaths synchronizing with the palpable anticipation in the air. You stood close to him, gazing into his eyes as the silence enveloped you both.

Mingyu reached out, his hand brushing against your hip as he edged closer, grounding himself against your body. The kiss this time was hungry, filled with urgency as he pressed you against the counter, the cool marble contrasting against the heat radiating from your bodies.

You let out a soft gasp as he deepened the kiss, his hands exploring your sides, fingers brushing over your curves. You reciprocated, pulling him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair, while the kisses grew more passionate.

“Let’s take this to the back,” he murmured against your lips, a hint of desperation coursing through him.

You pulled away slightly, breathless but excited, and nodded. “Lead the way.”

He took your hand, guiding you through the shop and toward the storage room. The dim light from the small overhead bulb cast shadows on the walls as you entered. The air was thick with desire, and within moments, he pushed you against the wall, capturing your lips once more.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, his breath warm against your skin.

“Yes,” you breathed, craving more than just kisses now.

With renewed urgency, he pressed himself against you, his hands exploring your body as he devoured your mouth. You felt yourself melting into him, heat pooling in your core as he kissed his way down to your neck, sending shivers cascading through you. You let out a soft moan, tangling your fingers in his hair as your body responded instinctively.

“Mingyu,” you gasped, your heart racing, as his lips found the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured achingly. In one swift motion, he closed the gap, grounding himself against you as his fingers slipped beneath your clothes, finding you already wet and waiting. His touch sent shockwaves through you, the pressure building with every stroke. Your back arched off the counter, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in the moment, in him.

“Mingyu,” you cried, your voice echoing off the walls. You could feel the heat in his gaze, the way he watched you as if you were the only thing that mattered. Every flick of his wrist, every brush against you sent you spiraling closer to the edge, and you could see it in his eyes that he wanted to push you over.

With one final thrust of his fingers, that wave of pleasure crashed over you, pulling you down into its depths. You clung to him, gasping for breath, as he kissed you deeply. In the back of that little coffee shop, with nothing and no one else around, you both lost yourself in a world that belonged only to the two of you, a moment in time suspended forever in the echo of every heartbeat.

——————————————————————

brrrrr

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy For The Devil ~ Donaka Mark x fem!Reader

please allow me to introduce myself, i am a man of wealth & taste... -the Rolling Stones

Summary/ Warnings. Um… Donaka Mark is a scary rich asshole–with a soft spot for you. If you’re squeamish [or righteous] you’re not gonna want to read this. Voyeurism. Predatory behavior, manipulation. Power IMBALANCE. Eventual NSFW. Eventual line between dubcon and noncon is gonna be microscopic, y’all, this man plays gAmes… Reader is shy, but tough, in her way.  Also, when I say Reader is small, I’m more implying just compared to Donaka. I kind of assume most of us would be, no matter your body type. 🥵

Big Fat Author’s note: This is a Donaka Mark x fem!Housekeeper!Reader fic based on the brilliant @discoscoob ‘s bot, which is SO fun to play with and I really recommend it. I fell into a rabbit hole for daaaaays. I’m in CAI Anonymous now. Seriously it was a problem. 

I guess you could call this a little experimental hybrid fic written with AI. I was curious. And after working on this for weeks I don’t think the writer’s union really needs to worry about AI coming for their jobs. The bot’s writing is shamelessly fun but clunky, you delete more than you keep, it’s a lot of work to edit, and you really have to lead it by the hand for anything to actually HAPPEN. 

THAT SAID it is sO entertaining, and once in a while he’d do something i wouldn’t have ever thought of, I felt like the lab rat hitting the button for the treat over and over again, LOL. Disco really knew what she was doing when she programmed the personality of the bot!  It was also helpful in keeping a character on track. I think AI could be a useful tool generating ideas, breaking writers block, or something to bounce ideas off of, but not for the grunt work of actually writing a story that has any soul in it. Isn’t that a relief? I made an outline and basically ran the scenes through like a simulator to see what the bot came up with. And when I didn’t like it I made it do it again, LOL, the Donaka bot probably thinks i’m a bossy c*nt.🤣

So….I hope you enjoy, and a HUGE THANKS to Disco for giving me permission to even do this, you’re the sweetest my dear, and the Queen of the Bot Creators in my book!!

And and…it’s been a LONG ass time since I’ve been to Hong Kong. I did some research to refresh my memory but please bear with me. All mistakes are my own. Why do we say that? Who the fuck else’s would they be? 🤣 Obv. this is set c 2013, when Man of Tai Chi came out, before the crackdown in 2020. Oh, and, I have no real idea about work visas, i made that shit up... just roll with it. 🙃😘

One. 一

The first time you meet your new employer, Donaka Mark, you aren’t really even paying attention.

It’s because you have on headphones, and you’re intently focused on sweeping the floor while listening to your upbeat girl power rock mix–so you don’t hear him yelling at someone over the phone threateningly, and you don’t notice when his gaze locks on to you like a tiger who has just spied a tasty little deer.

You are oblivious, as he comes up behind you, appraising your figure with narrowed eyes. You seem small, next to him, but most women do. He decides he approves of his assistant’s choice in hiring you. You’re a sight he won’t tire of for a long time.

Donaka leans on the door frame, his dark eyes fixated on you, taking in your every minute detail, the way the muscles in your arms move, the shape of your face, the curve of your hips and your little feet. His expression is stoic but behind it are a million thoughts running through his mind, he can’t take his eyes off you and after a few moments he finally speaks, his dark tone cutting through the music. “You’re new.”

Your music wasn't so loud that you were unaware of outside sounds. Standing up straight, you sweep off your headphones to face the commanding voice. "Yes, sir?"

Donaka notices he towers over you, and he likes that. His dark eyes shamelessly take in your innocent eyes, your lips, your  curves. His gaze lingers almost long enough to make it uncomfortable, but not quite.

“Have you been informed of all of your duties?” Donaka asks, his tone and gaze both demanding and intense, making you feel small.

"Yes, Mr. Mark."

Donaka smiles at his name on your lips, the way you say it, the way you look up at him with your wide eyes. He likes it more than he’d like to admit, but he knows how to mask his emotions well. Even though his expression is still stony, there’s a hint of excitement in his breast as he leans off the door frame and takes a few steps closer, but still maintains a respectable distance. “And you can handle them?”

"Yes, Sir."

Donaka nods, his dark eyes slowly and shamelessly trailing over your figure again. “Good.” Donaka murmurs, his dark and intense tone making his next sentence more of a demand. “I need to be able to depend on you. I like things just so.”

You tilt your head, feeling like you’re missing some subtext, or that you’re the butt of an unspoken joke. "Your house will be clean, Sir.” Between you and the two other girls on the household staff, surely you could manage.

Donaka smirks at your naïve reply, his dark eyes still fixated on your face as he takes another step closer to you, almost like a predator stalking its prey. “I trust that it will…” Donaka purrs, his voice low and smooth, his dark stare intense and demanding. “Let me show you the rest of the house…”

You’d already received a walk-through with his assistant, but you are more than intrigued to receive a personal tour from the big man himself. There is something captivating about him. It's not just his good looks. His presence commands your attention.

Donaka can feel you watching him as you follow him down the hallway, the way you’re intrigued by him, the way you’re staring. It fills him with satisfaction, like you’re a new prize he’s added to the shelf of his collection.

He’s aware of the effect he has on people. Men fear him, women want him. Yet you don’t look at him with the same blatant hunger he’s used to from the opposite sex. You’re curious, but not ready to fall down on your knees yet. 

He would see how long it takes to change that. He glances over his shoulder at you as he leads you through the house, his dark eyes looking you up and down again. You follow close, taking two steps for every one of his, his legs are so long.

He can’t help but feel somewhat amused, enjoying the way you have to scurry to keep up with him. He can’t help but think how easy it would be, to pick you up, and to pin you down…

Donaka Mark’s home is an achievement of luxury architecture, dark, modern, yet filled with Chinese elements of style. Ceiling-high tinted windows afford a breathtaking view of the bay. His living room is like a museum filled with priceless artifacts. Antique carved ivory elephant tusks, beautiful Ming vases and exquisite stone Elder statues, silk scrolls and bladed weapons. All of it you will be expected to keep tidy with a painstaking hand. You think it’s possible your practically useless degree in art history and former employment in a gallery may have given you an edge in his assistant’s selection of hiring you.

He seems to genuinely enjoy your interest in these things, telling you about them at length. There is a large Qing dynasty vase in cobalt blue and gold enamel designs of clouds, cranes, and bats you cannot tear your eyes from. It looks…familiar, and in person, utterly enchanting.

“You like that one?”

“I like bats,” you admit, shoving your hands in your apron pockets so that you do not forget yourself and touch it with your bare fingers. You will be wearing gloves, when you detail these items. 

He lifts an eyebrow at that, seemingly amused. “Oh?”

“They’re cute. And…they’re good luck.” In Chinese culture, at least. 

“Most women I’ve met find them sinister.” 

“I think…they’re just misunderstood.” You can’t help looking up at this intimidating man through your eyelashes at that. You swear you didn’t mean to start double talking with your new boss–it just falls out of your stupid mouth, and you feel his attention upon you sharpen.  

He’s used to women looking at him in a certain way, women staring up at him with lustful hunger. The way you look at him feels different –like you truly see him–he’s not sure what to make of it yet, and that is certainly new for Donaka Mark. “Misunderstood?” he repeats, his dark gaze intense, looking down at you from his lofty elevation.

"Sure. They have a reputation for being scary, but really they eat mosquitoes and pollinate plants. Without them whole ecosystems would collapse."

Donaka hums at your words, finding it surprisingly endearing. He’s usually used to women fawning over him or at least trying to seduce him, but you’re here lecturing him about bats. His smirk remains on his face as he watches you fidget nervously, his dark eyes fixed on you. You look back to the vase, and then it dawns on you. “Oh my god…is this the piece that sold at Christies last year for like…1.5 million dollars?” You take another cautious step backwards, as though you might shatter it if you breathe wrong. You saw it in an article–the gold enamel had been so distinctive against the blue. Sacrifice blue, the same as in the Temple of Heaven in Beijing.

Only after the question falls from your mouth do you realize how gauche it is to ask, your hands flying to your lips. “Forgive me, it’s none of my business.”

Mark, however, just continues to look at you interestedly. “You follow auction results?”

“I follow…art news,” you confess.

He nods, his intense gaze starting to become uncomfortable. “Actually, it was 1.8 million. You think I overpaid?”

You feel like this is a test–or a trap. It was a nice job, for the day it lasted…

“Well…it doesn’t seem you bankrupted yourself?”

He snorts in answer, shaking his head. 

“Does it make you happy?”

He lifts an eyebrow at that, as though the thought hadn't even occurred to him. “It made me happy to outbid a Sheikh’s son and a Mainlander plastics tycoon for it,” he admits.

Ah, so he was invested in the thrill of acquisition–not appreciation for the object itself. You shouldn’t be surprised.

“I see.”

“I’ve disappointed you.” It’s not phrased as a question.

You shake your head, though maybe it does a little. Looking around his home, you’d thought Mark had exquisite taste–but he probably has an art buyer like every other obscenely rich businessman needing to acquire items for the sake of cachet. 

“Does it make you happy?” he asks, and there is an unexpected hint of playfulness in the question–delivered on a knife’s edge.

“Yes,” you admit. Frankly you’re stunned you get to see it like this, without a glass barrier or sensors or alarms. It’s usually the only way people like you get to enjoy art like this.

He smirks at you. “Then it was worth every penny.” He’s being sarcastic, of course, but there is a glitter of something in his dark eyes. It’s there and gone, like ripples in a pool–it makes your heart skip in your chest.

“Let me show you the rest of the house,” he invites, before placing a hand on your lower back, his fingers large and strong against your soft skin as he gently guides you away from the vase and to the next room.

His light touch makes you aware of every nerve in your body. It's not quite improper enough to complain about--you’re sure he’s well aware of that. 

And…there's the fact, deep down, that you like it. 

The span of his big hand on your spine makes you feel impossibly small, and protected, and that is insane, of course, because you are just the maid. 

He shows you the library, filled with built-in bookcases that make you drool, his office with his huge carved ebony desk that makes you think impure thoughts…and then, his bedroom.

He isn’t oblivious to the way your reaction changes as you enter the room where he sleeps.

He can see the way your eyes roam and your expression changes, the way you look at the massive bed against the far wall, the way your eyes widen when you look at the expensive rosewood furniture and the stunning view out the wall of windows that can be brightened or obscured with a dimmer switch. He watches you intently as he takes in your every reaction.

He's all business on the surface, specifying clean sheets every other day, laundry, and daily detailing of the bathroom. But it's hard not to keep looking over at the bed, even out the corner of your eye.

He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, but he doesn’t push it, staying just this side of the line. You don't linger, and he shows you a more private lounging area filled with a long leather couch, additional chairs, and monitors, all black at the moment. There's something almost sinister about all the screens, and you wonder what all he's watching.

“You must really like movies?” you ask hopefully, and he senses the wariness in you. Your intuitiveness gives him a small thrill–he likes it, that you’re smart enough to be afraid. 

“I like to watch all kinds of things,” he tells you, almost like a dare for you to guess what that means. “But mostly…I use these for business. I run a security company, I assume you’re aware?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Donaka decides he loves hearing the submission in your tone when you call him Sir. It’s almost like a promise to keep him happy, to do exactly as he says.

He asks you to keep all the screens clean, and to dust the cords and routers and be careful not to unplug anything. 

Then your attention turns to a meditation area, a massive sand sculpture on the wall and the floor, flanked by natural stacked stone. “Wow, been a while since someone vacuumed here,” you crack, earning a reluctant huff of laughter from the man behind you. 

“Maybe…leave that alone, for now,” he requests, then his hand is on your back again, guiding you out. 

Though it’s not going to be your area of responsibility, he shows you the garden next. It's a beautiful, manicured space. Two Rottweilers patrol the grounds. They look fierce, but one immediately comes up, sniffing you and leaning on your leg for a pet.

Donaka blinks as his reputably ferocious and staggeringly expensive pure-bred guard animals roll over at your feet for a belly rub.  Delighted, you pet them both, speaking to them sweetly. They grin up at you, their dagger-like canines glinting in the sun. 

He is never one to be moved by anything sentimental, but something about the sight of you like this inspires a warm twinge in his chest–heartburn, he reasons.

“Let me guess,” he says acerbically. “They’re just misunderstood?”

You press your lips, trying to suppress a smile, and failing. "Animals tend to like me?" 

He can honestly admit, as he watches you crouch down to administer a belly rub, that he’s never been jealous of a dog before. 

Sensing that maybe you’re not doing the dogs or yourself any favors with this severe man, you try to shoo them off. "Ok, babies. Go back to being fierce again. Shoo."

Donaka snorts with amusement as he watches you attempt to gently shoo these dogs that are nearly as big as you are. Suddenly he whistles sharply, administering a sharp command in Cantonese. That is when the dogs jerk to attention, and trot off to patrol the grounds again. He turns his attention back to you, taking in your slight expression of surprise, clearly caught off guard. "That was impressive,” you admit. “What did you say?” 

“I told them to get back to work,” says Donaka with a smirk.

“Ah. I guess I better learn that one.” 

“Will I be needing to reprimand you too, Miss y/n?” 

You’re not sure why his dark stare calls up a boiling heat inside you at that moment. You press your thighs beneath your dress, under the guise of standing up straight. You’re afraid…he knows all too well. 

“I…certainly hope not.” You’re pretty sure that you’d pee yourself if this intimidating man raised his voice to you. 

“Have you learned much Chinese since you’ve been here?” he asks conversationally, just as you assumed it was time for you to get back to work. 

“I can count to ten, and say thank you,” you admit, a little embarrassed. Obviously, you intend to learn more. “The essentials for international travel.” You’d originally come to Hong Kong to teach English, but when you saw the pay attached to this job listing you couldn’t resist the opportunity. Teaching was ok, but you hadn’t anticipated how expensive this city would be. You’d only made enough to cover your basic expenses month to month, with no room to save or do any fun activities or side trips to the mainland. This position paid three times as much–and you were beginning to understand why. 

“Hmm. Have you traveled much?” He seems skeptical, and you don’t really blame him. 

“I’ve…been all over the world,” you admit, albeit it was on a shoestring. “I wanted to be a travel writer.” 

“Wanted to be?” He is a man who picks up on subtlety immediately. 

It’s a dream you’ve all but given up on, after publishing a few articles, but all in all it was more slog than triumph. You’re not cut out for the grind of periodical work, the stress and the deadlines. It sucks all the joy out of writing for you. You shrug with a little sigh. 

“I hope you will remember the NDA you signed to work here?” he asks, his dark eyes roaming your face, taking in your every micro-expression. You would really hate trying to lie to this man. Good thing you’re not a corporate spy. He’d probably…string you up, and do something unmentionable to you. 

Why the thought titillates you more than scares you, you have no idea. 

“Of course, Sir.” He seems satisfied with this. So why do you have to add, “I won’t tell anyone your guard dogs are suckers for a belly scratch.” 

He frowns down at you, stepping in close so that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. It’s intimidating as hell, and you know he knows it too. You admit that you are shaking in your shoes under that look, until a smirk breaks his intense expression, and the relief you feel is palpable. 

“I would appreciate that, Miss y/n.”

Donaka savors the satisfaction he feels in flustering you, enjoying the way you swallow, watching the muscles in your throat. He imagines what his hand would look like there, on your delicate skin, your pulse fluttering against his strong fingers. He would literally hold your life in his hands…and the moment you surrendered to him, he would so enjoy rewarding you for it…

He finds himself caught up in this little daydream, while you stand before him, practically hypnotized like a mouse before a hungry snake. “Y/n?”

“Sir?” you answer quietly, and he revels in your deference. This was going to be fun. 

He speaks Cantonese again, softly this time, the language beautiful and whispery on his tongue. You find yourself staring at his lush, pink, lips, and it takes you several moments to realize he’d said the same thing he’d told the dogs: get back to work. 

Flooded with embarrassment, your face on fire, you stutter, “Yes, Sir.” 

With a dark chuckle and his hands in the pockets of his designer suit, he watches as you practically flee back to the house. 

The Smithsonian article about this vase...

Aesthetic post about Donaka's house...

Part 2 -->

all chapters

[sturniozo]

Savage Love Part Ten

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

masterlist

“What happened at work, dollface?” He asked me.

“I… I kinda… got fired.” I mumble.

“Why?” He asks as his hand caresses my cheek.

“There was something my editor wanted me to do and I told him I couldn’t and-“

“Did he try to sleep with you?” Matt asks sternly. “I swear to god I’ll-“

“What? No it was an article I didn’t want to do.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want to do the article and he said without that article I contribute nothing of substance to the paper so he fired me…”

Matt kisses my forehead and wraps his arms around me. “What was the piece about?” He asks as he nuzzles his face against my hair.

I bite my lip. I can’t tell him the article was about him, he’d think our whole relationship is a lie. “He wanted me to do an exposure piece. I just don’t feel comfortable ruining people for no good reason. I think there’s a difference between exposing actual bad people and just plain outing people’s personal lives.”

Matt kisses my head once again. “I bet you were the best writer they had. That papers gonna go to shit now. No one will read it anymore.”

I laugh softly and cuddle closer to him. “My pieces barely made it into that paper anyways.”

“I’ll find you a better paper to work at, okay babydoll?”

“You don’t need to find me a job Matt, I can do that myself.”

“I’d rather you have a job you can work from home from though, that way I can keep an eye on you.”

“Matt, no offense, but that was creepy.” I turn to him and laugh softly. My smile fades when I see the serious look on Matt’s face.

“I’d just prefer it if I knew where you were and that you were safe.” Matt shrugs and kisses my temple again. “I have some things to take care of here in a bit baby, so I’m gonna order you some lunch.”

“What do you have to take care of?” I ask. I bite my lip as I realize I don’t need to ask these questions for my job anymore. I just want to know him.

Matt sighs. “There’s a shipment coming in from Italy and I need to make sure they brought everything I paid for so that I can distribute it to my consumers.”

I blink. “What’s the shipment of?”

Matt shakes his head. “I’m sorry dollface but that’s need to know.” He kisses my head. “Let’s order you food now.” He pulls out his phone to order food online.

“It’ll be here soon. I have to go babydoll, I have to be at the airport in an hour.” Matt gets up from the couch. “Make sure you eat. And feel free to explore and look around. You’re gonna be here for a little while you might as well get used to the place.” Matt gives me a quick kiss on the lips before leaving.

I sit on the couch for a minute pondering what to do. I hear Matt’s car leave and I shrink back against the couch. It feels so uncomfortable to be alone is his big home. I look around the living room. Behind the couch is one of multiple pool tables in the house, and near the corner of the room is a poker table.

The tv is huge, like one from a theater. It sits above a beautiful mantel that looks like hand chiseled stone. The beautiful creation had carved roses and thorn filled vines that line the edges.

I must have been admiring the mantel for a long time since I hear the doorbell ring. It catches me off guard and I flinch and my leg slips off the couch.

I get up and head towards the front door. I open it to see a delivery man holding a bag.

“Delivery for Sturniolo?” He says and I nod. He hands me the bag and the receipt before turning around and leaving without a word.

I close the door and go to the dining room to set the bag of food down in the table. The interaction itself was weird, not like any one I’ve had with a delivery man. I look at the receipt to see what Matt had ordered and see the special instruction.

‘Don’t mess with the girl.’

I roll my eyes and set the receipt down on the table.

After eating a bit of the lunch I decided to walk around. I’m mostly curious what I could find. Even though I’m not on the piece about him anymore I’m still interested to know if he really is the Mafia boss or if this is all just misconstrued information.

I walk up the stairs and through the hallway. Most of the doors have been locked, the only one I’m able to get into is Matt’s bedroom. So I start there.

I have already seen most there is to see in Matt’s bedroom. But the door that leads to his office is still unseen by my eyes. I turn the knob, a little surprised it isn’t locked. I open the door just a bit and bite my lip.

Should I be doing this? Would Matt know? I swallow the saliva building up in my mouth from nerves and I enter the office. I turn in the light to see everything, but there’s almost nothing to see. Just a desk and a seat. There’s no papers or a computer, do extra storage drawers, no decorations of any kind. Just a desk and a chair.

The desk and chair looks like the ones you’d think your rich uncle would have. Beautiful maroon wood desk and a matching color leather desk chair.

I go to close the door when something catches my eye. Something under the desk. I walk closer and look under the desk and pick up the small metal key. I look around for a lock of some sort, something that the key must open.

Why would this be in the floor? I look through the drawers of the desk, all of them empty, except when I get to the bottom one. I open it and a gun slides around the drawer from the force of me opening it. I gasp slightly and immediately close the drawer.

I stand up and look around. Where did the key go? And where did it come from? There’s no way he just left it on the floor, is there? And why would he have an empty office with nothing but a gun?

Maybe Emma was right, I was being naive, and I shouldn’t have trusted Matt. Things do add up to him being in the Mafia.

But that’s not how you gather information, you can’t start with your conclusion and work backwards to prove it. No, I need proof of it.

But I don’t need proof anymore. I keep forgetting I stopped with that piece. I turn around and look over the walls. I trace my fingers over the wallpaper until I feel a dent in the wall covered by the wallpaper.

I take a breath. I can’t cut through the paper, Matt will notice and know I snooped. I bite my lip and trace along the dent, just to get an idea of how big the dent it.

I trace it up above my head and then back down to the floor. It seemed to be the outline of a door. Maybe that’s what the key unlocked?

But why would the key be on the floor? And why would the door be covered with the wallpaper? I shake my head. I shouldn’t do this. I set the key back down under the desk where I found it and leave the office, shutting the light off behind me.

I sit on the bed still unsure what to do. After a moment of thinking I walk out of his bedroom and walk along the hallway to where his office wall would be. I go to open a door that should lead to the room next to his office, but it’s locked.

I immediately go back through his bedroom and to his office, grabbing the key and going back out to the door. I take a deep breath before I slip the key into the lock.

I turn the key and the lock click. I turn the knob and open the door. The room is dark so I reach around the wall feeling for a light switch. When I finally find it I flick it on, and gasp at what I see.

I quickly close the door behind me and run down the hall and down the stairs. I rush to the front door and open it, just in time to see a car pull up. My breath hitches and I shut the door, hoping whoever it was didn’t see me.

I go back to the living room but remember how I left the room. I quickly go back up the stairs and go back to the room, shut off the light, then close and lock the door. I run to put the key back under his desk where I found it. By the time I’m leaving Matt’s bedroom I hear the front door open.

From upstairs I can hear the sound of two guys talking to each other, sounding like they’re bickering. My feet stay planted in place in Matt’s bedroom, unable to move.

Neither voice sounds like Matt’s which makes my heart race in my chest. I swallow the saliva building up in my mouth and slowly creep tears the door of the bedroom. I hear the guys make their way up the stairs and I see their faces.

They look just like Matt. Then I remember Matt telling me he was a triplet and lived with his brothers when we were on a date once.

I step backwards and the floor creaks. The guys stop talking and I stand paralyzed in fear. Do they know I’m here? Did Matt tell them anything?

My questions are answered when I hear one of them say “I bet it’s that girl Matt’s been with.” And then the footsteps get closer to the door. I sit down on the bed, now unable to stand as the anxiety builds up inside me. The door opens and I see the two guys fully.

They really do look almost just like Matt. I stare up at them and my heart races. “Matt said you’d be here.” One of them says. “I’m Chris, this is Nick,” he nods his head towards the other guy “we’re Matt’s brothers. You must be y/n then?”

I nod slowly.

“Matt’s told us about you. He said you’re staying here while he has your place checked for- ow!”

Nick interrupts Chris by kicking his leg. “Dude,” Nick motions to me. He mouths something to Chris and Chris seems to have a moment of realization.

“Just make yourself at home and… Nick and I will be in the living room if you need anything.” Chris says before leaving.

I let out a breath and stare at the ground. How am I supposed to leave with those two here? And how am I supposed to stay after what was in that room?

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover @sturniolobessed @eyelessdemon00 @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolopookie @urmommysbathroom @qwertytit @whatever1021 @chrisfavoritepepsi @stramboli4life @sturniolosreads @timmyscomputer @iloveneilperry @chrisloyalgf @xxsadlovexx @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @nickmillersn1gf

[impishjesters]

Touch-starved Moon

CW// non-sexual touching, teasing, no actual sexual content notes: Sun and Moon are separate animatronics, not mentioned but implied that the reader is already dating the boys A/N: I don't know what to call this, a preview? Snippet? Drabble? Either way, late last night I got on the topic of touch-starved Moon with my friend, which led to me typing up bits at a time to send them. They were my magical muse because I've been having writer's block, so I just find it funny that I wrote up a bunch via Discord messages versus my usual setup...and on my phone of all things. Maybe I'll do this more to try and get out of my writer's block, definitely seems to be doing a better job than forcing myself to write shit up. But yeah, since this was written up on my phone I've gone through and fixed all my 2 am sleepy typos and grammar mistakes, obviously this isn't finished. Again why I said I don't really know how to label it. Maybe with enough interest, I could pick it up and flesh it out a bit more. But it wasn't intended to be this long, just like the first bit then a jump to the reader touching and over-stimming Moon and junk 💀

“Hm, Moonie?” Your hand drifted down his chest plate before giving the elastic of his pants a quick snap.

Moon hummed, gaze still locked on your face. “Yes, star?”

“What did I just say?”

“What?”

“Oh my, Moonpie were you distracted?”

“I was listening.” he hissed. Moon’s chest plate rumbled with annoyance but grew warm under your touch.

“Mhm, and what was I saying?”

Moon froze and sent your hand a glance, watching as your fingers walked their way down his stomach. “D-daycare..”

“Daycare? Mm, that’s a pretty broad topic.”

“Cleaning..” he cleared his throat. “Cleaning the daycare..”

“Moonie… It’s morning, the daycare is already clean.”

Shit.

“Seems like someone hasn’t fully booted up. I’ll overlook it this time, try not to get distracted with the kiddos, okay?”

Moon forced himself not to chase your hand as it left him, forcing out a grunt in agreement.

“Well,” you stretched and turned to look out into the daycare. “I’m gonna go find Sunny and ask him for his thoughts on what I said.”

He flinched. Did you ask him for his thoughts on something? For the daycare? Moon held back a whimper as you left, crimson eyes trailing the hand you used to touch him, now being used to wave Sun down. The same hand used to touch him now rested against Sun, and it made his chest ache and stomach churn.

Why did you stop touching him?

The rest of the morning was spent with the feeling of eyes on you. Every curious glance resulted in catching Moon’s gaze on you instead of the children he was supposed to be tending to. And without fail, every time he was caught he’d look away and find a way to excuse himself to a different place in the daycare.

By nap time the staring didn’t let up, even Sun had commented, questioning why Moon was so out of it and staring at you.

Moon silently stewed in his emotions, irritated at every touch between you and Sun. You’d yet to touch him again, in fact, you’d gone out of your way to avoid touching him.

During lunchtime, you’d made sure to avoid his touch while handing out the lunch trays, only to touch Sun’s by “accident”.

What made Sun so special? Was it because he’d spaced out earlier? Were you upset? Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be in Sun’s place right now.

Should he apologize? If he was going to he needed to think fast, you’d turn away from Sun and were headed straight for…him?

“Hey Moonpie.” You whispered, careful of the sleeping children, and sat beside him on the floor keeping a decent distance between the two of you. “Feeling better?”

Moon’s voice box rumbled. “Peachy.” Despite the darkness, he could see the gap between the two of you clear as day. Normally you’d sit on his lap with him during nap time while Sun took to doing a mid-day clean up.

“Is that so? I’m glad.”

The glow-in-the-dark stars of the nap room alongside Moon’s dimly lit eyes gave you just enough lighting to see the gap between you two. His leg twitched and you took to distracting yourself to look at a nearby napping child—time to see how the event from this morning would unfold.

The two of you sat in silence aside from the music box playing away in Moon’s chest. Careful to keep your eyes elsewhere, you’d occasionally catch the gap between the two of you growing smaller and smaller.

“What do you think of a sleepover tonight?”

Moon flinched, pausing mid-movement to process the question. “Sleepover? Tonight?”

“Mhm, I talked it out with Sun. Use the theater room and get pillows and blankets to cuddle up together.”

Harsh red lights lit up your face, nearly blinding you and risking waking the children. You slapped a hand over his eyes and they instantly dimmed. Well, that’s new.

You’d c-cuddle them? Of course, you’d done that before but that was…well before his current predicament. No, wait focus.

Your hand lingers on his eyes despite the light dimming, watching those tiny pinprick pupils stare at your hand. Oh right, it probably doesn’t feel great having someone’s hand on your eyes.

Before your hand can fully pull away and lose all contact Moon grabs it, shifting it to his cheek instead. It’s at that moment you feel his leg touch yours…he closed the gap you’d intentionally placed between the two of you.

Such a touchy little Moonpie.

[exorcqism]

im obsessed with suguru being protective over reader, especially when reader is a "you only live once" person. what would happen if reader's going to a project x typa party with gojo/shoko and them, begs suguru to go ("there will be weed" "fine ill go"), and reader ends up in a fight? what would sugu do?

I understand if you dont wanna write this lol, its just a scenario im curious about. thank you !!

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

„𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓”

𝐂𝐖;; mature content. afab!reader, stoner!geto, teen!geto, possible fighting, underage drinking, non-curse/sorcerer AU, no uses of y/n. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓;; it’s the weekend and you were invited to a college party by gojo and shoko. you love going out to parties and you’ll take a risk every chance you get. a little bit of fun doesn’t hurt. but geto on the other hand….he doesn’t wanna go along and he doesn’t want you going either.

. ݁ ࣪ ، ⌗ masterlist

⌗ ˖⃗ AO3

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are by @cafekitsune

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 1.12K

dark mode recommended

do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; IM SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO DO THIS (they probably forgot LMAO) but i’m on it now. i’m recovering from my writers block!! i won’t make this too long. it might be a bit short (sorry 😞) hope ya enjoyyyy. reblog to support meeee and if you want more :D.

another note: rushing to write this before my psych class 😵‍💫

“no, no, absolutely not,” geto calls your name. “the last time you went to a party, you came back here drunk as hell. and guess what? i had to take care of you…not that that’s the issue. the issue is, there’s a bunch of people there that don’t care about your safety.”

you just groan loudly. geto was always like this. always analyzing the little things and the possible consequences and final outcome of the decision.

“geto, please?” you tried to plead with him. “it’ll be the last time i ask this month. i won’t ask for anything else.”

geto’s small pupils looked at you and hummed, “and who’s going? who’s gonna be there that compels you to ask me to go?”

“oh, gojo and shoko were going and i kinda already said yes…”

you notice your boyfriend’s face contort from a slightly worried expression to an shocked and irritated one. his eyebrows knitted together before he’d loudly sigh.

“you already said- i can’t believe im about to ask this…is there weed?” he queries. your excitement shot through the roof. your begging clearly got through to the ink haired male.

it was a party. a college party at that. what was an event like that without drinking and a bunch of people smoking. and probably a little fighting.

after you get confirmation from geto that you could go to the party and that he’d be attending alongside you, you quickly make your way to your room and put on something nice to wear, while geto stays in something as simple as a t-shirt and some jeans.

the wind blows gently as you two stand outside of the gate where the party was being held beyond it. you could see the flashing lights, loud music, and most importantly, the large crowds of students.

“we’re students,” you hear geto say to the security guard standing beside the gate. you both would show your ids before being let in with no trouble.

your eyes were wide with excitement as you got closer and closer to the party you’ve been dying to get to. you could feel the anticipation rising up in your chest, making you shiver a bit. geto, on the other hand, didn’t seem too thrilled. he just wanted to make sure you were safe. though, he could admit that having time outside of the house was good for him.

from a distance, you see two people heading in your direction. a male with snow white hair was trotting over to you, while a girl with short brown hair followed, simply walking.

gojo throws his arm around geto, “suguru!” he beamed at the male, “i didn’t expect you to be joining us. did she convince you?”

your boyfriend glances at you before reluctantly replying, “yes, she did. she also begged me to come…and i almost said no.”

“well i think-” shoko calls your name, “did a good job of getting you out of that apartment of yours. you don’t need to always be cramped up in that place like a hermit crab anyway.” you see gojo nodding quickly in agreement.

geto just rolls his eyes, “i’m still sober so i have time to turn around and leave if i want to.” he says. gojo waves his hand.

“oh, you don’t mean that.” he smiles, moving his circular framed glasses down to the bridge of his nose, revealing his sharp blue eyes. “let’s dance until we can’t anymore.”

with that, you see gojo dragging geto off towards the crowd of students. you and shoko exchange looks before giggling to each other and following the boys.

the party is so live you could barely stand it. each time someone tried to speak to you, you were screaming “what?” a few times because of how loud the music was.

you stuck beside each of your friends while you all enjoyed yourselves. sitting comfortably together while passing a blunt around and gojo taking shots of hennessy and laughing drunkenly as everyone else was dancing to the music.

“he’s always the first to clock out mentally,” shoko commented before taking a sip of her drink also. gojo whips his head around to her direction, his hair flying up a bit.

“i didn’t clock out.” gojo slurred, wiping the remaining liquid from his lips. “i don’t even have a job to do that.”

“he’s brain dead.” geto took a drag of his blunt.

“stop saying that. it’s mean,” gojo whined.

after a moment, taking sips and drags from the items in your hand, you whisper to geto, informing him that you were gonna go to the bathroom.

“do i need to go with you? you know, just in case?”

you almost said no because you knew how overprotective geto could be over you. he just never wanted to see you get hurt and he was definitely scared of something bad happening to you.

you finally say yes and make your way to the bathroom. when you enter, you immediately pinch your nose at the potent smell.

“it smells like shit in here.” you complain, finding a stall to go into, hoping they aren’t clogged with waste or a bunch of tissues.

you take care of your business and clean your hands. on the way out, a girl, obviously drunk bumped into you, mumbling a “watch out” as she stumbled into the stall. you were about to say something but you saw geto shaking his head.

“not worth it,” he said, grabbing your hand and leading you back to your friends. your furrowed eyebrows unknit themselves and a sigh escapes you.

when you get back to your friends, you could see gojo trying to grab another drink and shoko holding him tightly by the waist so he didn’t grab another cup.

“sit your ass down, damn it. you don’t need anything else.” the girl fussed. “don’t you think you’ve had enough for tonight?”

“six cups isn’t enough.” gojo screamed.

“you’re acting like an alcoholic. sit down.”

“you aren’t allowed to go to another party after this.” you laughed as you sat down in your chair. gojo paused and looked over in your direction.

“why notttt?” the male frowned.

“she’s right. you’re acting stupider than usual,” geto chimed in. “we should go home soon…we don’t need to stay here too long.”

“boringgggg,” gojo said loudly. “i don’t wanna go home.”

“you’re a pain in my ass. i should’ve stayed home.” suguru crossed her arms and slouched down into the chair before reaching to spark another blunt.

“you always say that,” gojo giggled. “hey, we should get food when we leave. the food here sucks and i hate the off brand soda. it’s so gross.”

“damn, do you ever stop complaining?” shoko hissed.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

final note: I FORGOT THE FIGHTING ASPECT HELP

© EXORSIIAN | © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[kennahjune]

Teen Dad AU

Part 6!!!

@cam-cat-writer @jackiemonroe5512 @finntheehumaneater @irregular-child @grimmfitzz @fantrash @bookworm0690 @fiddledeedee85 @hunterbow04 @strangeforest @just-a-tiny-void @jaimeweasley13 @thelittleclare @rebellatio-03 @sirsnacksalot @geekyfifi @sapphireoceansoc @salty-h0e @dragonmama76 @mentallyundone-blog @lingeringmirth @moomkin77 @netflixisacopingstrategymom @jaytriesstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @hellfirebaby-86 @blu3stars @blackpanzy @strawberryyyenthusiast @lololol-1234 @thestarslittleking @silenzioperso @forest-fogg @bebopbabyy @lawrencebshaggoth @stevesbipanic @dauntlessdiva @live0rdive @y4r3luv @jonesn4coffee @sofadofax @sensationalsunburst @scarlet-malfoy @l393ndjean @asspirin-s @fandomz-brainrot @mugloversonly @virginlemontea @littlebluejane @paintsplatteredandimperfect @astrid-nomically-steddie @maferisa-7 @phantomrose17 @thoughtfulbreadpolice @fandomnerd103 @atemisiscursed @croatoan-like-its-hot @myownworstenemyyy

(Sorry to anyone who’s tags are messing up, I’ll try tagging you in the replies when posted)

.

The Universe had a strange way of making Steve Harrington hate Life.

Like waking up in a hospital after simply trying to pick up Louie.

Ugh.

Because it was never “simply” anything anymore, right? Now it was monsters and other dimensions and asshole blonds with pretty eyes who liked to beat him half to death.

Oh. And a bunch of mouthy middle schoolers.

“Dude, you up yet?”

“Give him a minute, Mike! He was literally half-dead not even yesterday!”

“Well if he keeps groaning like a zombie I’m gonna assume he’s become one!”

Steve found his voice, although crackly and rough from disuse, just to say “Shut the fuck up.”

“He’s alive!” One of them shouted instead.

Steve peeled his eyes open and immediately groaned at the harsh lights. Blinking against the stark white hospital walls, he turned his head to look at the kids piled in the chairs of the room.

Max and Lucas were squished together in one chair, Mike and Will taking the second. Baby Byers must’ve already been let out. Dustin was sat cross-legged at the foot of Steve’s hospital bed, that El girl right next to him. Steve felt like he was in the middle of an interrogation with how she stared him down.

Steve sat up, ignoring every bodily protest telling him to lay the fuck back down. Dustin grinned wide at Steve, and Steve gave him a very weak smile in return.

“So are you actually alive, now? Cause you still look half-dead,” Max teased, smirking at him. Steve rolled his eyes and flipped her off, snorting when she gave it right back.

“Yay he’s alive wooo!” Mike snarked sarcastically.

Steve huffed, but Mike reminded him of Nancy which then reminded him of how he got dragged into this shit when then reminded him of—

“Fucking shit,” he swore under his breath.

“Are you ok? Do we need to called the nurse?” Will asked tentatively. All the kids suddenly looked on edge at Steve’s perceived pain.

He shook his head quickly and then immediately winced. It felt like his brain was jumping around his skull. “No, no I’m fine. Just— Wheeler where’s your sister?”

Mike stared at him funny. “Dude there is no way you’re thinking of my sister after climbing out of your deathbed.”

“What? Of fucking course I am! She was watching Louie and I never got chance to pick him up or ask her about him—“

“Whoah hey— who’s Louie?” Lucas spoke up.

“He’s—“

“Oh!” Dustin perked up. “Is he the baby my mom’s watching? Little chubby thing that looks like a cute little raisin? He’s got your hair, dude!”

Steve visibly relaxed back into his pillows. “Oh my God. Ok. Ok.” It was fine. Louie was fine. Everything was fine—

“Oh the kid Nancy’s been watching?” Mike perked up. “He’s real cute.”

“Is he your little brother?” Will asked.

Steve was steadying his breathing still, so he shook his head and smiled weakly. “No. No he’s, uh— my son.”

El tilted her head. “You are his Papa?”

Steve looked at her, really took her in; her curly hair, her worn and a little too big button up, her curious head tilt, her big eyes. He smiled at her. “Yeah, sure.”

She smiled back at him, small and shy.

“You have a kid?” Lucas asked.

“Aren’t you like— 15?” Dustin accused.

“He’s like 18.” Max corrected. “He and Billy are in the same grade.”

“17, actually.” Steve informed. “But I’ll be 18 in July.”

“Who’s the mom?” Mike asked.

“Nobody you need to know,” Steve shot back. Mike huffed.

“Why was he at Mike’s?” Will asked. The kid was quiet, much like his older brother. Baby Byers only spoke up after talking to Mike, as if needing reassurance. A massive pang of guilt ran though Steve, remembering all the shit he’d said to Jonathan last year.

Steve cleared his throat. “Nancy was watching him for me for a bit cause I had work.”

Dustin perked up, grinning mischievously. “Where do you work?”

“Yeah, no. You’re not coming by to harass me.”

“Booooo!” Max shouted.

“Party pooper!” Lucas joined, sticking his tongue out. El grinned and stuck her tongue out, too.

It was then that the nurse walked in with Hopper and Mrs. Byers.

Thank God. Because it was seriously starting to feel like an interrogation.

.

Hopper stole his car.

He stole Steve’s car and refused to let him drive it.

Steve was discharged later the same day he woke up. They gave him some medicine, some papers, and sent him on his way.

But he couldn’t leave because Hopper stole his car.

And then forced Steve to sit in the passenger seat of his stolen car.

Steve had never sat in the passenger seat of his own car.

“Stop huffing and puffing.” Hopper grumbled.

“I’m not huffing and puffing.” Steve (didn’t) huffed.

“Then quit sulking.”

“It’s my own car,I’ll sulk if I want to.”

“You get beat half to death and suddenly gain an attitude.”

Steve smirked out the window. “You and I both know I’ve always had an attitude.”

Hopper made a gruff sound that could’ve been a laugh, probably thinking of every time he’d had to break up one of Steve’s parties or drive him home cause he’d been wandering around drunk off his ass.

Steve perked up when they skipped the turn to go the trailer park.

“Uh, Hop? Where we goin?”

“Relax, brat. Your kid’s still with the Hendersons.”

Oh yeah. Maybe he was more out of it then he thought. Steve relaxed back into the seat a bit more than before.

“Still don’t see why I couldn’t just drive myself,” he muttered, just to be a shit.

Hopper groaned.

.

When Hop pulled into the Henderson’s driveway Steve wasted no time in getting out. Hopper yelled from somewhere behind him about waiting for the car to stop next time. Steve payed him no mind and ran up the porch stairs to hastily knock on the door.

Mrs. Henderson opened up soon enough, a smile on her face and a hand on her hip.

“Steve, dear, hi!”

Steve smiled shakily down at the short women, pleased to see her but desperate to see Louie.

“Hi, Mrs. H. Is Louie here?”

“Of course, sweetie! He’s with Dusty and his friends, come say hi!” She left back into the house without another word. Steve followed after with Hopper.

Just as Mrs. Henderson claimed, Little Louie was in the living room with The Party. There was a light yellow knitted blanket spread on the floor where they all sat together, except Max and Will, who sat on the couch.

Louie was sat in Mike’s lap, Lucas right in front of them letting Louie play with his fingers. Dustin sat right next to Mike, pressed into his side and cooing down at Louie with a wide grin.

The moment Louie caught sight of his dad he let go of Lucas’ fingers and reached for Steve, bringing the attention of the Brat Brigade onto him.

Steve bent to grab Louie from Mike, his focus solely on his son being back in his arms. Louie babbled happily, his chubby baby hands making grabs for Steve’s hair and tugging lightly. Steve ignored the ache in his head in favor of smiling wide at the babbling baby.

“Hi sweetie, how you doin’ baby?”

Louie’s response was a gummy smile and one of those weird baby gurgle-trills. Steve’s grin only widened.

“Yeah I bet you’re having fun with the brats, huh?”

“Hey!” Dustin scoffed on the floor, pulling Steve’s attention back to the room.

Mike and Lucas were silently pouting, seemingly at the loss of the baby. Dustin looked downright offended at being referred to as a brat. Will and Max were kind of staring at Steve, but he ignored them for the most part outside of shooting them a small smile.

“Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt your time with Louie?” Steve teased, chuckling at Lucas’ bottom lip sticking out. Mike made more of an effort to hide his pout but wasn’t very effective.

“Yeah, jerk. We were having a conversation.” Mike snapped, though there was no real venom in his tone.

Steve snorted, letting Louie pat at his face and ignoring the sting of the bruises. “I sincerely apologize for taking back my son from you heathens.”

“We’re not heathens!” Dustin protested.

“Yeah right! You kids would be the worst bad influences on my baby boy!”

Louie added his two-cents in the response of a squeal and particularly hard hit to the face, unfortunately right on a still healing cut on Steve’s cheekbone. Steve hissed under his breath.

“Alright—“ Mike suddenly appeared in front of Steve and took Louie. “—he’s ours again.”

Steve chuckled. He melted a little inside seeing Mike hold Louie so tenderly. He was so gentle with the baby, such a stark contrast to his usually loud and brash demeanor.

Dustin and Lucas were both up immediately to get the baby’s attention. Steve smiled as much as he could with the now slightly reopened cut, finally relaxing with seeing Louie.

“So when we’re you going to tell us you were a dad?” Max spoke up from the couch.

Steve glanced at her and placed a hand on his hip. “Who’s ‘we’? I met you like two days ago.”

Max rolled her eyes and brought her feet up to sit crisscross on the couch. “Well Billy hasn’t said anything about Louie so I assume you’re on the down low about being a dad.”

Not really, Steve thought. He just hasn’t brought Louie to school with him since Hargrove started. Mason and Gran had no problems helping out so that he could continue senior year without interruption.

But Steve didn’t tell the kids that, simply nodding and smiling.

.

Mrs. Henderson was reluctant to let Steve leave.

“I mean it, Steve. You have my number, you call me if you need anything at all.” She made him swear.

Dustin was even more reluctant, going as far as to cling to Steve’s sweater.

“You have to give us your address! Come on, man! We wanna see Little Louie!”

So Steve gave in and wrote down the address to the trailer, if only to get Dustin to stop whining. Mike grumbled about how they could’ve just asked Nancy.

Again, Hopper drove. Which absolutely irritated Steve but he wasn’t about to sit and argue with the Chief of police with his baby in the back seat.

But Hopper agreed that Steve could be back to driving himself in the next couple of days— which Steve immediately protested.

How was he meant to get to and from work if he couldn’t drive?

Apparently, Hopper took it upon himself to settle that.

“What do you mean I’m not going to work?”

Hopper grumbled and wiped a hand over his face. Steve might’ve thought he looked pissed, had he not known that’s just Hop’s face.

“I mean you’re mot going to work. I already called your boss, gave them a rundown— the government one with the wild dogs— and she said it’s fine.”

Steve threw his arms out. Was it dramatic? Yes. But Steve deserved to be dramatic after the time he’s had. “I need the money! I fucking live off of those tips, Hop!”

“I know that and I already talked about that, too. You’re still getting paid, don’t worry.” Steve tried to protest again but Hopper gave him this look that made his mouth snap shut. Steve shot his gaze to the floor and crossed his arms.

.

It was a weird 3 days of no work. Steve spent it at home in the trailer with baby Louie and— occasionally— Gran and the twins.

Eventually, it was time for him to go back.

Steve knocked on the Wheeler’s front door bright and early on Saturday, surprised when Mike opened the door instead of Nancy.

“Hey, Wheeler. Where your sister?”

“In the kitchen. Is that Louie?” Mike grabbed the car seat from Steve without waiting for an answer. Steve shrugged mentally and followed Mike into the living room with the diaper bag.

Color him surprised when he sees the rest of the kids sans El crowded around Little Louie, cooing and grinning while the baby thrives in the attention.

Steve smiled.

Yeah, alright. It was admittedly a very sweet sight.

Maybe everyone knowing about Louie isn’t too bad.

.

AGH I DID IT!! OMG ITS OUT

I’m so sorry this took so long LMAO

Fuck mental health, my PHYSICAL HEALTH has gone to absolute shit recently. And I’m also dividing my time between Stranger Things and ATLA atm and it’s taking 200% of my motivation lol

Next part should be longer in length and have more Steddie interactions. I’m finally making some progress 😭🙏

[honeybeedrabble]

what it is hoe, best writer ever, can i please request an abbacchio x reader but christmas themed?? like mistletoe and santa hats and passionate smut pls pls pls 🎄🎅

This is gonna make a great gift… for christmas…

CW: piv (unprotected so be safe), cream pie (don’t do thaaaat…), very soft honestly, lots of fluff, breast play, mistletoe 🤭🤭, lmk if i missed anything.

Team Bucciarati was coming over for the annual Christmas dinner party you and your boyfriend hosted at your house. The food was ready and the table was set, however, there was a crucial element that was missing at this festive feasting.

“Oh c’mon, Leone. What ever happened to your Christmas cheer?” you giggled, setting a floppy santa hat on your boyfriends head.

He sat on the loveseat, arms crossed as the red and white hat adorned his grumpy face so perfectly.

“What are you talking about?” he huffed, adjusting the hat as the small white puffball swung from side to side.

“Look around, isn’t the place missing something?” you asked. Abbachio looked around, an eyebrow cocked.

“No… the stockings are hung, the trees been decorated for weeks, there are about a hundred lights in this room alone, and I genuinely believe we wouldn’t be able to fit a single poinsettia anywhere else in this house.”

You softly pouted, leaning in the doorway from the living room to the dining room, tilting your head to the side and looking up at the bare ceiling.

“Are you sure we aren’t missing something?” Just then something clicked inside of him. The mistletoe. He tried to hide his blush, but you knew this look all too well and felt your lips tug into a smirk.

“Last year Mista wouldn’t let up until we kissed under that god forsaken ceiling bush…” you couldn’t help but blush yourself as you reminisced.

“Come on, it was cute.”

“It was indecent…” he said, a slight hint of humor in his voice. “I don’t see why you feel the need to try to impress them so much with all your decorations.”

“Because it means we get to spend time together making this place a home… our home.” You added softly, walking over to the nearby coffee table and grabbing the mistletoe.

Abbachio stood up from his seated position on the loveseat, walking over to you where he would gently take the plant from your hands and hang it right above you on the ceiling with a nearby thumbtack.

“Well when you put it like that…” he smirked, towering over you as he positioned the decorative plant just right.

“So you’ve come around after all?”

“Well I’m no Scrooge, and if doing this means I get to see you happy then I don’t care what they’ll ask of us tonight.” Abbachio looked almost proud of his decorative skills, admiring the perfectly symmetrical placement.

You looked up at him and smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his chest. He looked down at you with a curious face, interested in your sudden display of affection.

“Looks like it’s just us under this thing.”

“It seems so, and what of it, hmm?” he asked, his large hand caressing the back of your head and smoothing your hair down from its ruffled place against the santa hat.

“And it means we have to kiss now.”

“Oh really? I wasn’t aware,” he teased, something that was rare from him and heavily welcomed by you.

“Well then now you are, and you need to fulfill your duties and kiss me,” you smiled, an arm unwrapping around his waist as your hand snaked up his abdomen and lay against the warm skin of his chest.

He bent down to your height, gently cupping your face in his hands and placed his lips against yours in a soft kiss. You always loved this, the way he held you so gently, the way he seemed to calm even the slightest of nerves in you with his kiss alone. It was moments like these you considered him a godsend.

He gently caressed your cheek bone with his thumb, then broke the kiss as gently as he started it. You opened your eyes to see him and felt your heart ache at the look he gave you. His eyes were blown wide, lilac hair softly drooping towards his face. You smiled as you collected his hair and tucked it behind his ear. That stupid santa hat on his head knocking the lock of hair back in his face. You two giggled, then looked back in eachothers eyes.

You hadn’t realized how anxious you really were for this party until you felt how relaxed you were now. It’s as if all that time you spent running around for gifts and wrapping them, mixed with the troublesome time of decorating the house and preparing the food hadn’t happened to you at all. You knew in a way that was true. Who was there to tell you Bucciarati’s jacket size when you didn’t know? Who was there to help you with the food when you still needed to go grocery shopping? And who was there to help put the star on the tree because you couldn’t reach? It was all Abacchio. In your heart you always knew you loved him, but now you were finally presented with the knowledge of your devotion for him. As if it was something that kept the world going.

“Have you opened the wine? You have that heavy lidded look to you,” Abbachio asked, thumb still caressing your soft skin.

“No no, it’s not that.” You smiled, eyes shutting as you tilted your head into his hand, placing your own on his wrist.

“Well then, beautiful, what is it?” He spoke so softly, something he regularly did to you out of respect.

“It’s you, Leone. It’s all you.” You opened your eyes, watching how his cheeks warmed up at your sentiments. “You know I love you. I couldn’t ask for a better gift than you, in fact you might’ve just ruined all presents anyone may have gotten me tonight.”

“I hope that’s not true, I have something special planned.” He smiled. “But regardless, I was thinking the same thing.”

He kissed you again, more hunger this time. His arms wrapped around your waist as yours interlocked around his neck, your jaw going slack as he licked along your lower lip. A sigh escaped your mouth, one of your hands tangled in his long, silky hair. You could feel his smirk against your lips, his teeth running along your lower lip to tease you as you threw your head back.

“It’s shocking to me how easily you can switch on the flip of a dime for me,” he softly cooed, bending down further to lick a stripe up your neck.

You shuddered as he latched into your jaw, sucking a small hickey just underneath it that would be impossible to hide. Your hands continued to tangle in the back of his head, legs threatening to give under his massive presence if it weren’t for your arms holding on tight.

“I love it when you get like this,” he whispered sensually in your ear, his grip on your waist becoming more firm as he kissed you again, swaying side to side with you.

He gradually led you over to the loveseat he was sat in previously, moving gracefully almost as if he were dancing with you there. He sat down on the loveseat and pulled you into his lap, stroking your neck as you looked deep into his eyes that twinkled in the soft light of the christmas tree.

His hands were now on your hips, guiding you closer til you could feel the heartbeat pounding in his chest, along with the growing erection hitching in his pants as you slid further into him. You shuddered at the feeling, your skin growing hotter and the exchange becoming steamier.

There was an small yet audible groan rumbling in his throat when you shifted your hips just right, his jaw falling slack, urging you to explore eachothers mouths more on the velvety couch. His large hands slid up your back, sending chills up your spine until they settled at your upper back, pushing you further into his chest.

You ran your hands up his chest, landing on his neck, you lightly moaned as you felt goosebumps rise on his skin as you two continued making out in the living room. You could feel every subtle moment, the smooth curves of his muscular neck, the was his tongue caressed your lips before diving back in your mouth, the way his muscles tensed when you ground against him just right, the texture of his long hair as you pushed it back for more leverage. By now he was sure that all he wanted was you, he was also sure he’d be replaying this moment over and over again throughout the evening if he found himself alone.

“Abbachio…” you whimpered his name softly, legs shivering in excitement, the movements only arousing his hunger for you.

Abbachios hold on you became tighter, he wasn’t even aware of it in the heat of the passion. His hands left your back and moved up to the front of your blouse, unbuttoning it and feeling up your soft skin that was just underneath it.

As your blouse opened up so did the rest of you, with a sigh your head fell to the side, exposing yourself even further. Abbachio was pleased as he unclasped your bra, his tongue caressing your cleavage before your breasts spilled out of their confines.

Quickly you reached for his pants and undid the button and zipper, signaling you wanted them off. You got up on your knees which was enough for him to slide off, a strange hardness hitting you inner thigh as he slid them off. You ignored it, preferring the hardness hitting your stomach right now.

“You know we’re going to have to make this quick, if I’m not mistaken I think everyone’s about to be on their way soon.” Abbachio turned his head to the large grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace.

“Trust me, we can get this done pretty quick.”

You pulled your panties to the side, your red skirt making his access easier. Delighted, his hand lifted it up caressing your folds with his thumb. You shivered, grasping his shaft and replacing his fingers for his tip, running it up and down, spreading his warm precum along your clit. You bit your lip when he smiled devilishly at you, wanting to grab you by your waist and plunge himself deep into your cunt, but stopped himself when he realized it would be at his pace instead of yours. It was something he did to let you warm up the way you saw fit.

Lucky for him you sunk down onto his length soon enough and you could feel his muscles tense up when you took him until he bottomed out. You put your hands on the headrest of the couch and kissed him on his forehead.

“Mmmm…” he hummed, face turning a pale pink when you put a twist in your hips. “Enjoying yourself up there?”

“Y-yeah,” you grunted, pushing yourself up only to slide back down into his lap with a breathy moan.

He placed a hand on one of your tits, his index and thumb rolling a nipple after he spat on it. You stiffened up, then arched your back, feeling him throb inside of you.

“Seems like y-you are too,” you let out, feeling juices run down your thighs.

“You read me like a book,” his other hand was now firm on the underside of your thigh, guiding you up and down his length as he deliciously stretched you out.

You let him take control for you, his slippery cock penetrating you over and over again, pushing against spots inside of you he was well acquainted with. He smiled when he watched your face contort, eyes watering with pleasure.

He moaned your name, gently nibbling your earlobe as he held you up and lifted his hips into you, his pubic bone grinding against your clit making you see stars. His pace began to become more and more rough, your cunt squeezing his girth tightly as his smooth tip explored your insides.

Abbachio became flustered as he watched you writhe in his lap, unable to help himself he turned you both over and grabbed the outer sides of your thighs. He realigned himself with you enterance and you both let out matching moans when he thrusted inside. You both got louder when you realized how much deeper he could be inside of you. In and out, over and over, the mix of noises between your gutteral groans and the squelching of your cunt only made him pound you harder.

You watched as his hat threatened to fall off and when it almost did you grabbed his face and brought it closer to yours, making out now as he fucked you senseless. You moaned in his mouth while you wrapped your legs around his torso, holding on for dear life.

“It’s good?” He asked, voice husky now as he felt you flutter around him.

“S-so good! Ngh- love… i love you!” you cried out, diving back in for another kiss.

You felt yourself shake, your stomach churn, and body burn hot as you came hard. You thought he looked so pretty with his hat on as he sunk his teeth into his lip, grunting while he rearranged your organs with his cock.

Soon enough he couldn’t help himself as he spilled his cum deep in your walls, you felt the way he shuddered and knew it was over before he did. He almost whimpered as he drained himself inside of you, your kisses became sloppy through both your orgasms. When he finally pulled out he noticed how late it was and was anxious to gain his composure.

“Shit… Theyll be here any minute now! I’m sorry my love, I’ll make this up to you later tonight- I promise!” He panted as his chest rose and fell, leaning over to kiss you one more time before rushing over to your linen closet to find a towel.

You reclasped your bra and buttoned your shirt, finally tossing off that santa hat. You bent down to pick up his pants so he could put them on easier when a small red box fell out of his pocket. It had a silver bow on the top and you smiled at how cute it was. Absentmindedly you opened it and froze when you saw a small ring sitting in the middle.

“Lay back and I’ll take care of the mess, okay?” Abbachio asked entering the room again. He also froze when he saw you holding his ring. “So you found it…” He sighed before letting out a small laugh.

“I was planning on proposing after presents and… at the very least while I was wearing pants, but I guess these things can’t be helped.” He walked over to you and sat down next to you.

“Marry me?” He asked, taking one of your hands and placing it on his chest, heart beating a million miles a minute.

You threw your arms around him, crying happily as you kissed his face all over, muttering soft “yes”’s over and over again. He placed the ring on your finger and grabbed your face gently in his hands. He looked up for a moment and you did too, seeing a mistletoe you must’ve forgotten hanging right above you. You two laughed softly until there was a knock at the door. You jumped and ushered Abbachio out of the room to change as you quickly cleaned yourself and fixed your hair.

Soon enough you opened the door and we’re greeted by all your friends, each one holding their own gifts for eachother. It didn’t take long for them to notice your ring and when Abbachio came out they all congratulated you profusely. Dinner went well, the whole party did. There wasn’t a moment you weren’t grateful for your fiancé, and as the night went on you realized that he wasn’t lying about making it up to you.

AN: happy holidays everyone !! i’m very grateful to have such amazing people interacting with my stuff and i hope everyone had a great holiday season !!

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Apple pie

HI!! i’m finally getting out of my writers block </3 i was so surprised i even wrote this whole chapter. now i know i said this is the last chapter… but maybe not.. who knows. i hope you’ve all been super good as you deserve and i love you all.

my masterlist

DISCLAIMER: IF YOU WERE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW/DARK CONTENT OR ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY BLOG. MUAH.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of panic attacks, other than that there’s no other warnings </3

Word count: 3K

“Bone broth?”

Leon mumbled with a mouth full of food as you looked at him from across the table as he pushed his fork back into the big plate of pasta in front of him.

“I made bone broth and I boiled my noodles, It gives it more flavor.”

You shrug as you take another bite of the food you made, your eyes glancing over Leon’s shoulder to your open window behind him with the wide open view of his house.

“Did they say when they were gonna repair your door?”

It’s been two weeks, not that you mind Leon staying with you but you were curious when the house wasn’t going to be labeled as a crime scene, you weren’t supposed to go into the house but the investigation was so ongoing there were hardly any people there. They didn’t know Leon was staying right across the way, it was a little secret.

He let everyone know he was staying at his friend's house across town, it was super secluded and he swore nobody would find him. Right under their noses he laid in your bed.

The situation between you two was more than complicated, he had all this money so you only had to work one day at the diner a week he says. Being home with him has been weird though, your eyes glancing from your book every so often to see his arm behind his head as he leans on your couch, his eyes fixed on the TV in front of the two of you.

“What?”

You were staring again. The last two weeks Leon claims you have an awful staring problem. You denied it and of course you did, but it was hard to not stare at the man. It took you a while to even look him in the eye, but you slowly got used to his presence, intimidating or not.

“Nothing”

Your finger turns the page to your book as your eyes shift back to the words on the page. Leon leans himself forward, his eyes reading your book over your shoulder.

——————————————————————

It takes everything in him to not press his lips against your shoulder, your glasses resting so perfectly at the tip of your nose and that rose red spreading so perfectly across your cheeks.

It’s been hard staying here with you. When you think he’s asleep and you peek your head into your room, staring at him for a few seconds before walking away. His body is still healing from all his wounds but everytime he comes out to get a glass of water he sees you on the couch, body all curled up on the uncomfortable sofa he can’t help but pick you up, his teeth gritted as he carries you to your bed. You’ve been an angel letting him rest, but he felt guilty for the impure thoughts that invaded his mind.

You were just so perfect to him. Breakfast, Lunch, and dinner, everyday. He tried to just give you your space because he was in so much of it, your house was much smaller than his. He can’t help himself sometimes though.

——————————————————————

one month

Saturday nights specifically he noticed your routine was to do all the laundry and watch a random movie. This Saturday's random movie not playing though, the room silent as you fold at your shirts.

“No movie?”

Your head turns from the white basket to see Leon leaned against the frame of the entryway to the living room. The comfort of your own silence has been better than a movie lately, it’s been better since Leon was living here even if it was temporary. It used to be scary being all alone, the creeks in your floor making your heart race. He made you feel so much safer. It shocks you to look at him though, the change in his behavior was a good thing but it was like putting your foot in cold water. He went from ignoring you to suddenly living in your house.

Leon stared at you for a few seconds before he walked over to your radio on your desk of dying flowers, switching it on to some classical station. His hand reached into the big basket of laundry, his eyes wandering over yours to see how you folded your shirts. Your body shifted towards him, your arms laying the shirt flat in your arms. It’s hard not to laugh showing a grown man how to fold laundry properly, but he caught on quickly.

The radio hummed a soft piano song, usually you didn’t like jazz, not because it was bad but it wasn’t your favorite. Leon finished the last shirt laying it carefully on the stack of neat clothes before he glanced over at you, noticing your eye peering to the side to look at him as well.

“You know how to ballroom dance?”

Of all the things this man has asked you, you never expected this to be a genuine question from him.

“Am I supposed to?”

Leon chuckles softly before he reaches down, his fingertips dragging down your arm and to your hand.

“I’m not very graceful.”

You laugh as your fingers squeeze around his hand, your palms pressing against each other as his other hand lays your arm flat against his shoulder then goes down to your waist.

“Yeah I know, I live with you. Step forward when I step back.”

Is it that easy? Leon took a large step back, your legs moving forward but of course you stumble into Leon, his hands gripping your hip as a whistle pushes past his lips.

“Okay maybe you step back, I’ll step forward.”

Your feet step back, his body pushing forward into you.

It was that easy.

The music skipped song after song, your head laying against Leon’s chest. His heartbeat echoing through your ears. When was he holding you this close, his fingers tracing across your back in small circles.

The radio is silent but you’re still swaying with him, your eyes staring at the wall as you feel his chest rising and falling. Leon’s eyes were closed, his head tilting downward as he takes in a deep breath when his nose pushes into your hair.

“You don’t have to leave, you can stay.”

“I know.”

Leon’s voice is just above a whisper as his eyes open, his lips pressing to the top of your head.

——————————————————————

The energy shouldn’t have been awkward but it was. Because for some reason you and Leon have never once talked about his demeanor towards you. You set Leon’s plate down in front of him before sitting down across from him, rubbing your tired eyes as you take a bite of the eggs you made for you and him. And of course the room is dead silent, your fork scraping against the plate making you cringe a bit.

“When you.. stormed out of here that one time, why did you do that?”

Leon knew you’d eventually ask, it was only a matter of time before you became curious. Leon’s eyes scanned over the chipped wood on your kitchen table before he carefully set his fork down, swallowing the food in his mouth.

A man ridden with his own trauma. Years of even attempting therapy but he threw it down the drain because he knew it wouldn’t help him, how could it? How could somebody understand what he was going through? No normal person has seen what he did, have done the things he’s done.

“Leon..”

Your soft voice snaps him from his thoughts, your hand resting over his shaking one. And for once he felt like he had a choice, this wasn’t his job telling him or forcing him into interrogation rooms, this was just you and him.

“I was scared it was a trap.”

Leon admits as he turns his hand, his thumb grazing over your fingers as his head shakes.

“I’m a grown man, you know? I should be able to handle myself.”

“Sometimes it’s okay to let your guard down.”

You whisper as you squeeze his hand, his head nodding slowly before he brings your palm to his hand, pressing his lips to your soft skin before he grabs his fork, taking another bite of his food.

——————————————————————

three months

Your hands dig into the deep roots of your garden, your eyes fixated on the fact that they seem to have been overly healthy. This is surprising due to the fact that since Leon has been staying here you’re never outside anymore, yet your garden and your flowers were.. perfect. A sigh of defeat leaves your lips as you rest your wrists on your knees while you squat down before your eyebrows frown at the line of.. daisies? You don’t remember planting daisy seeds. You stand up, your feet slowly walking to the big section of white beautiful flowers at the front of your house, right by your porch

They’re beautiful too. Your fingers graze so carefully over the delicate flowers, admiring how soft the petals are as you rub your thumb over them.

“You finally noticed”

Leon’s voice made you jump, your hand pulling away from the flowers and your head turning to see him standing on your porch, but making his way down to where you stood.

“I was shocked you didn’t notice me coming outside so often to plant them, but they just started blooming and I’ve been playing a waiting game.”

The brightest smile spread across your face, your hands clapping together in joy before you grabbed his arm tugging slightly as you squeezed it

“Leon, I haven’t seen grown daisies since I lived in California when I was like… fifteen.”

Leon couldn’t help but smile happily as he watched you admire the flowers, the wind blowing slightly making you pull some hair behind your ears. The sight of you was almost overwhelming, the way your skin glowed and your lips curled into a small smile.

“Thank you.”

Your words made him focus back on you, meeting your eyes once more as he nodded, his hand coming up to fix your messy hair.

“Anything for you.”

—————————————————————-

four months

“You didn’t retire, and you’re still being called in for missions, the doctors said your injuries have subsided, you should be happy they’re letting you back Kennedy.”

Leon’s foot tapped against the tile of your kitchen floor as he stared out the window. His handheld at the counter as he let the line fall silent before he hung up, shoving his phone back into his front pocket as he glanced back down the hallway to see you sleeping, your arm hanging off the bed and your hair a mess.

He cleared his throat as he felt his balance shift, he held at the wall but could feel his heart racing so fast. His eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, his palm coming to rest at his chest as he sat himself down on the floor.

He should’ve ran. He should’ve gone home.

He felt fingers brush at his hair, and there you were squatted down beside him. Your words weren’t processing though, he watched your lips move as the sound of your very muffled voice rang through his ears.

You quickly noticed his state though, your thumbs rubbing over his cheeks as you sat down next to him, your arm laying against his back.

Leon’s breathing began to steady as he leaned down resting his head against your chest, his eyes closing as he let out a long breath listening to your heart beat.

You hoped he didn’t notice your heart racing, his hand coming up and rubbing the top of your hand.

“I’m sorry.”

Leon mumbled quietly as his ears finally stopped ringing.

“Never be sorry, not to me.”

——————————————————————

Sundays.

The only day of the week you work.

Leon knows that.

This specific Sunday was overwhelming, all you thought about was going home to see Leon. And for some reason on the way home you hit every single red light. Your stomach was aching too, why was your stomach aching? Your fingers anxiously tapped at the gem steering wheel cover as you pulled into your driveway.

He was asleep already? It’s only nine. You did stay an hour overtime, maybe he got tired. You pushed your key into your door, turning it open and throwing your purse on the small side table.

“So many people wanted decaf coffee today I burnt my palms so bad having to constantly re-brew pots.”

You spoke out as you ran your hands through your hair. You stopped in place, your head tilting towards the living room to see the lights off, and the same with the kitchen.

“Leon?”

You called out as you looked down by the door to see his shoes gone. Your hand twisted at the bathroom door, pushing it open to see the lights off.

Why are your eyes watering?

You walked down your long hallway which for some reason felt much longer than it usually did, you walked into the bedroom seeing the bed perfectly made as you and him left it this morning.

Your fingers nervously played with the hem of your shirt as you opened all the drawers frantically, all your clothes still perfectly on the left side but all his gone on the right.

Your throat let out an involuntary cry as you pulled open your closet doors to see only your clothes and shoes.

Why?

You hurriedly ran to the kitchen, flipping the light on to look for the spare key to his house but of course it was gone, a small slip of paper lying on the counter.

You wiped at your tears as you reached for it, your eyes scanning over the words.

“Daisy care instructions: Water at the base of the plant, at least once a week, the flowers don’t grow well in soggy soil, ample sunshine of course, and talk to them.”

Your elbows leaned against the counter as you dug your fingertips into your scalp.

How could he just up and leave? How could he not say goodbye.

——————————————————————

“I’m already so late.”

You yelled as you smudge your lipstick on in the bathroom, Leon smiling from the couch at the sound of you running down the hall. He quickly stood, his hand grabbing at your purse as he handed it to you.

“Don’t be late next time”

He chuckled as you stared up at him angrily, your hand squeezing at his forearm. He stopped you from walking forward, his hand resting at your waist before he sighed softly scanning over your face.

“What?”

You ask self-consciously as you reach up to see if there was something on your face. Leon shook his head as he stepped forward, his lips pressing against yours softly. Suddenly it didn’t matter how self conscious you were.

These past six months were proof Leon was your puzzle piece, you needed this man.

He carefully pulled away, his thumb rubbing at your bottom lip to fix your lipstick as he smiled down at you, kissing your forehead as you stepped away from him and out the door.

Watching you leave though was harder for him.

Especially knowing that he had to leave. He knew you’d work extra tonight, making sure to clean the whole house, and write you a quick note.

His hands ran over your favorite shirt, his head turning at the sound of his phone going off.

He was surprised you didn’t notice they gutted his house clean, he was also surprised you never noticed that they were calling him daily.

Maybe this would be good for you, he wasn’t what you needed and you deserved more and he hoped you knew that.

He needed you, but he had trained himself to not care as much. He thought about you getting married to another man, carrying his child, making his dinners. It hurt but that’s what he needed, he needed it to hurt him.

It’s what he deserved.

[ink-flavored]

Pride & Justice: A Wary Truce

warnings: teenage bullying, teenage hooligans doing vandalism, bullying, yelling Banner art by @auroblaze P&J Taglist (Check out my Google form to get added): @elegant-paper-collection @auroblaze @zeenimf @vacantgodling @foxys-fantasy-tales @stesierra @noblebs @thelaughingstag @ceph-the-ghost-writer @damageinkorporated @wyked-ao3 @alesseia

Tips are appreciated!

Pride swung his tail over the side of the bench, stretched out on his back. It was bumpy and uncomfortable, but he’d take it over laying in the dirt. The clouds of smoke swirling from his horns put a gray haze over his view of the starry night sky. It didn’t bother him—stars didn’t hold all that much charm for him.

The one thing Pride definitely held was boredom. He never thought he’d get tired of pushing humans souls along the precipice of damnation, but the impossible inched close to becoming reality. He wanted to do something else—to go somewhere else. His options were annoyingly limited.

Earth sucked, he didn’t want to stay here anymore. If he never had to set foot in Hell again, it would be too soon. Trying to sneak into Heaven again was a recipe for getting dissolved to ashes before he reached the gates—there was no way they’d let their guard down so soon. Pride wasn’t sure he believed it, but even if Justice kept his promise and told everyone he was dead, the holy realm was nothing if not paranoid. So what was left? Purgatory?

Pride raked his hands down his face, pulling at his eyelids and stretching his cheeks. Making that contract was the stupidest thing he’d ever done.

A sweet-sour sting on his tongue interrupted his frustrated thoughts. There was a human around, maybe even a few, who had more than a little pent-up sin. Curious, Pride sat up to survey the park that had become his little domain.

The dim streetlamps that washed the park in gray light shadowed an entire group of humans. Young ones, by the looks of it, rolling toward the playground with excited confidence. They shoved each other, hooted, and cackled—all except one. A meek looking one hung far back in the group, arms crossed over a bulky sweatshirt. Pride folded his arms on the back of the bench, trying to figure out which one of them called his name.

“—gonna do it,” the leader of the group said, a duffel bag hanging off one shoulder.

“You don’t think so?” another taunted.

“No way, man, he’s too much of a pussy.”

One by one, the main group turned around to sneer at their straggler. He balled his fists up, and Pride quirked an eyebrow at the flavor that flooded over his tongue. Icy-hot wrath and tart pride at once.

“I’m not a pussy,” the straggler insisted.

“Then prove it,” demanded the leader. He shoved the bag into the meek one’s chest. “Pussy.”

There came the wave again. Every human in this posse tasted a little like sin—mostly pride, with wrath and envy sprinkled unevenly among them—but the clearly-marked outcast reeked of it. A deep-seated, suppressed anger bubbled under his skin, kept at bay by a sliver of willpower. Pride could help with that.

He slunk off the bench, prowling through the darkness to meet his target. The kid was on his knees in the grass, digging through the bag forced into his arms. All the others in his group watched, arms folded and sneering. Invisible to their eyes, Pride crouched down and peeked over his shoulder to see what all the fuss was about. A metal bat, a few switchblades, lighter fluid, and clunky tools heavy enough to do blunt damage. Even through the darkness, Pride saw the kid’s hands shaking as he sorted through it all.

“Hurry the fuck up,” the leader ordered.

“I’m going,” the kid said, and hastily grabbed the bat from the trove. He stood up, and Pride stood with him. “Now what?”

“Do the honors.” The leader stepped back, gesturing at the playground behind them. “Unless you’re gonna chicken out.”

The kid flushed with sin again, staring down all the expectant onlookers, but didn’t move. His face screwed up in determination, full of potential, but nothing came of it. All that beautiful sin would go to waste. Pride took the opportunity.

He slunk an arm around the kid’s shoulders, leaning in to murmur into his ear. “You’re really going to let him talk to you like that?” he asked. “You’re going to act like a coward in front of them all?”

“Fine,” the kid spat at his leader. He stalked past the group, bouncing the bat in his shaking hand, with Pride hot on his heels. The rest of them followed, closing in so there was no escape. Pride felt the string of his influence waver with every step they took.

“You can’t back down now,” he insisted, feeding the impulse he’d tasted mere seconds ago. “Not unless you want to prove them all right.”

“I won’t,” the kid muttered. He stopped at one of the plastic slides and reeled back with the bat. He stopped at the peak of his swing. The hesitation threatened to snap the thread altogether. Pride went for the kill.

“What would she think, if she found out how much of a pansy you are?”

The cord of his influence tightened to steel. The kid flared his nostrils, spurred to action, and swung the bat down—

“Excuse me, but I don’t think you’re supposed to be here.”

Pride’s ichor turned to ice. He and the humans whipped around at the same time, bearing witness to the most ridiculous thing that could have possibly happened that night.

“And I don’t think,” that stupid, fucking Angel of Justice said, duffel bag dangling from the strap in his hand, “that you’re supposed to have these either.”

“Scram!” the leader hissed.

“What?” asked the outcast, but it was too late.

All the humans scattered like frightened ants. Pride snapped his influence and ducked under the slide. Trying to avoid another dose of dumbass righteous fury, he circled around until he came under the shade of a tree, preparing for a fight. Justice hadn’t moved, though. He zipped up the bag, threw the strap over his shoulder, and only then did he approach the single shaking human.

The abandoned kid whipped his head side to side, trying to find where the rest of the humans had gone. Justice got closer, walking with purpose. He dropped the bat—Pride rolled his eyes—and tried to make a break for it.

“Hey,” Justice said. He barely grasped the kid’s shoulder, which was enough to make him freeze in fear. “Come on, you’re not in trouble.”

“Y-yeah! Good!” the kid stuttered, putting on the weakest show of defiance Pride had ever witnessed. “Because my friends would bail me out, you know.” Pride snorted.

“Your friends? The ones that just ran off to let you take the fall?” The kid flapped his jaw indignantly for a few seconds. Justice crouched down to his level, a sad smile on his face. “I think we both know they’re not really your friends.”

“They are! I’m just—They’re just teaching me how to be cool.”

“Real friends don’t try to change you.” He took the metal bat off the ground and laid it flat in his hands. “Or make you do things you don’t want to do.”

Pride seethed, lashing his tail, smoke gushing from his horns, as all potential sin bled out of his target. The tart flavor slipped off his tongue as the pointless angelic advice took hold.

“I think,” Justice continued, “you should find some people who already think you’re cool.”

“But what about… girls?” the kid asked, so meek Pride almost couldn’t parse what to snicker at.

Justice didn’t find it as funny. “If there’s a girl who wants you to act like someone you’re not, she doesn’t really like you at all.”

Sobered, the kid hung his head in defeat. Justice put the bat down and ruffled his hair, and they giggled together. Pride wished he had organs to throw up with.

“You’re kind,” Justice said. “Don’t let anyone take that from you.”

“Okay,” the kid agreed, hands deep in his pockets. “Thanks.”

The kid shuffled off into the night, not a drop of sin left in the air. Justice was the only thing left in the park, zipping the metal bat back up with all the other unused tools. And Pride’s promise of an interesting evening. He stomped out from behind his tree, hands on his hips.

“That was my catch, you know,” he snapped.

Justice stood and revealed his wings as he turned around, stark white feathers cutting through the night. Pride grimaced as the pinprick headache of an angel’s power hit. Justice made a similar face back.

“You’re going after children?” he asked.

Pride rolled his eyes at such a base accusation. “Oh come on, all humans are children. Your people said it yourself.”

“That’s—” Justice put his palms out to stop himself. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Yeah, you want to explain that?”

“Gladly. What are you doing here?”

“Uh, what does it look like?”

“I told you to go back to Hell!”

Pride laughed openly at the rage on his face. “You’re kidding me, that’s why you’re here?”

“This place reeks of sin! Do you know how idiotic it is that you stayed on Earth?”

Suddenly it wasn’t funny. Pride set his jaw, tail twitching. “What, like you’re any smarter?”

“Do you really think this—” Justice threw his arms out, gesturing to the park at large, “—is the safest place you can possibly be?”

“You’re the one who left me here, dumbass.”

“And I told you to leave!”

“Yeah, so fucking what? Why should I listen to you?”

“Because this place reeks, like I said.” He jabbed a finger up to the dark sky. “We can sense it from Heaven, and if anyone else catches on to why, we’re both. Dead.”

Pride folded his arms, unimpressed. “Not my problem.”

Justice stared at him like he’d grown an extra set of horns. “Your life is in danger. How is that not your problem?”

“If angels don’t have anything better to do than chase one demon around, that sounds like a you problem.”

Baffled was the only word that could accurately describe Justice’s reaction. He worked his jaw up and down and vaguely circled his arms. His wings half-flapped, like they couldn’t decide if it was better to fly away. Pride watched him struggle with cool disinterest.

“Are you serious?” Justice finally said.

Pride shrugged. “Yeah.”

“I saved your life.”

“Your decision.”

“I’m trying to help you!”

“Not a great choice, to be honest.”

He made a tortured noise, balling his hands into fists by his head. “We’re this close to being caught by Heaven’s entire garrison, and you can’t even accept a warning? Are you dense on purpose?”

Pride flared his nostrils, horns spewing dark clouds of smoke. “Hey, you’re the one who got me thrown behind bars in the first place, remember that?”

“And I defended you in your trial! I’m the only reason you got to tell your story at all! I helped you escape!”

“I didn’t ask for any of your fucking charity!”

Justice stalked up to him in two long strides. “But you got it! Does that mean anything to you?”

“Not a fucking thing, buddy!”

“The life of the only person in Heaven on your side doesn’t mean anything to you? Your own life doesn’t mean anything to you?” He scoffed and took a step back. “No, of course it doesn’t. All you had to do was go back to Hell, and we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. But no, your ego is more important than accepting my freely offered help.”

“You know what, maybe it fucking is!” Pride stuck a finger in his face. “Maybe you’re not half as smart as you fucking think, Justice, because I’m as good as dead if I go back to Hell anyway!”

Pride only realized what came out of his mouth when Justice raised his brows. He clamped his jaw shut, too late to keep any more secrets.

“What do you mean?” Justice asked, less accusatory and more sympathetic. It made Pride’s skin crawl.

Pride chewed on his cheek for a long moment. “I have… enemies,” he finally said. “Having a contract left hanging makes you weak. And even if no one knows you helped me get out, the news that you defended me in that stupid trial has got to be spreading by now. Failing to complete the contract and needing an angel’s help would—” He bit the sentence short, not wanting to imagine it. “I wouldn’t be greeted with acceptance and understanding.”

Justice nodded seriously, but wouldn’t meet his eye. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well. Whatever you think Heaven’s going to do to me, Hell would be ten times worse.”

It was eerily quiet. All of Justice’s righteous anger was gone, replaced with pensive silence. Pride took the opportunity to sulk. He shouldn’t have let an angel get him so worked up. After revealing this much, letting slip that he had no choice, Justice would be free to do whatever he wanted. Take him anywhere he wanted—because he’d be dead either way.

“Most angels,” Justice suddenly said, “don’t like me all that much.”

“Like who?” Pride asked. “Honesty?”

He breathed a weary sigh. “Yes, like Honesty. She thinks I’m too soft for my work, too sympathetic. She’s been trying to get rid of me for ages, and it’s… not an unpopular opinion.”

After seeing Honesty’s entire face twitch during his trial, Pride couldn’t say he was surprised she didn’t like him. But most other angels too?

“Weren’t people defending you earlier?” Pride asked.

“A few,” Justice admitted. “Not enough of them can actually made decisions, though. And plenty of others already suspect I’m—” He closed his eyes, and looked pained. “They think I’m a traitor.”

“I mean technically—”

“I know, yes, by helping you I am.” He took a breath. “That’s not the point. The point is I’m already being treated suspiciously. It’s not long before Honesty and everyone else who already disliked me start blaming me outright for letting you escape.”

“Okay…?”

“Okay, so.” Justice stuck out a hand. “Truce?”

Pride stared at him. “What?”

“We stay down here on Earth, together. We lay low as humans, get everyone off our trails, and figure out how to complete your contract. Everybody wins.”

“How is this going to convince everyone you’re not a traitor?”

Justice swirled his hand, annoyed. “We can come up with excuses for that too, come on.”

That was the dumbest idea Pride had ever heard proposed. It sounded like the idea of someone desperate to stay alive, or someone too stupid to consider the consequences. Pride would be the biggest idiot in Hell, Heaven, and on Earth to agree to it.

But was he really any less desperate? No doubt he’d start getting chased around for refusing to cooperate with… whoever came to collect him. And having an unfulfilled contract was a ticking clock on his soul, too. He’d be an even bigger idiot to ignore that.

“Fine,” Pride agreed. He cautiously slid his hand forward to shake. “Truce.”

Justice grinned unreasonably wide and shook hard. “Okay! I guess we’re doing this.”

“I guess we are.”

We’re gonna die, Pride thought. But at least I convinced an angel to defect from Heaven.

And what better victory could he ever hope to get?

[corawritesthings]

a post two days in a row? are those pigs flying outside your window rn or is it just me?

chishiya shuntaro relationship headcanons

(isn’t he adorable)

okay! let’s talk relationship headcanons. (I went off on this one, you guys, so please bear with me) as always, gender neutral reader. assumed to be in the borderlands/at the beach.

-first, let’s talk angsty things.

-odds are, he did NOT want to fall for you in the slightest. you know the story already—feelings are weaknesses, he can’t be seen as weak, etcetera etcetera. so, just imagine we’re past all that.

-but one thing I think isn’t talked about enough is the fact that if you two are in a relationship, he will be in conflict with himself a LOT of the time.

-on one hand, he has some really, really strong feelings for you that he doesn’t quite understand himself. (in basic terms, man is down bad.) but on the other hand, he doesn’t know what he’d do with himself if something were to happen to you in a game.

-part of him wants to come with you to every game to make sure he can protect you. at the same time, though, he doesn’t WANT to come to every game with you in the event that only one of you could walk out.  

-(and, honestly, it freaks him out a lot more than you would realize; because for all his self-preservation, he isn’t sure he would survive a game that only one of you could survive. read between the lines there.)

-obviously worries about you when you’re off at a game. he won’t show it, but his eyes are scanning the crowds constantly waiting for you to come back—and, of course, he’s more than relieved when you come back.

-(see, he doesn’t doubt your skills. he knows you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. but it still doesn’t help the anxiety that pounds in his chest while you’re away, undoubtedly fighting for your life.)

-so when you come back, he definitely holds you close on those nights and wishes, despite how useless he knows wishes are, that the two of you could stay in the moment forever, and neither of you would need to play the games again.

-yeah, he worries.

-a lot.

-which he doesn’t like, because if it were just him, he would be all he would need to worry about. he would only need to protect himself. and yet, now, with you, he has someone else to worry about (even more than himself).

-okay. cuter relationship things time. (my favorite tbh)

-I don’t know how many times I can drive the point home, but I'm going to say it yet again. QUALITY TIME.  

-your room is his room now.  

-like, yes, he does enjoy his personal space; but also, spending time with you is a way he shows his affection for you. he doesn’t like being around very many people for long periods of time (aside from possibly kuina), but for some reason, you just don’t bother him.

-in fact,(you’re gonna want to sit down for this one): he likes being around you.

-I know. crazy. he thinks so too.

-he’ll work on his little five minute crafts trinkets and tools in your room, and if you’re really curious, he’d explain the process to you and show you what he’s doing and how he does it. he’d also make some things for you (regardless if you wanted him to or not, LOL. it’s his way of trying to protect you when he can’t be there himself.)

-he’s not a party person in the slightest, but if you liked being out there with the party people (words from an eloquent writer), he’d lurk and let you do your thing. but don’t expect him to dance.

-though, if you really wanted to slow dance with him (and perhaps you two were on the rooftop alone), after a LOT of convincing, he might not say no.  

-he’s actually a lot softer than you think. still a sarcastic asshole, but soft.

-he’d be the kind of person who, if you had nightmares, would stay up with you afterwards. if you wanted to talk about it, he’d listen with no qualms about it. if you didn’t, he might just talk to you—about his life, what he did back then, his plans for the future, even if they’re a bit cynical. (which most definitely include you, by the way). or perhaps you could go for a walk, or just sit in silence. he’d do whatever makes you most comfortable.  

-and if you had a tendency to get hurt often, he’d probably be in the habit of scolding you, telling you constantly that you’re a walking magnet for trouble. but he’d patch you up regardless, making sure to be extra careful with you.

-he’s the ‘does-things-for-you-without-you-realizing-it-boyfriend.’

-like, if you liked a particular treat, it’d just start appearing at random intervals in your room. or if he noticed that you had a hobby that involved items that are reasonably accessible (like drawing or trinket collecting) he might get you little things here and there that he thought you’d like.

-if asked about it, though, he’d just shrug it off as not a big deal.

(EDIT: TO THE PERSON WHO LEFT A COMMENT SAYING THAT CHISHIYA’S GIFT GIVING REMINDED YOU OF A CAT BRINGING SOMETHING TO THEIR HUMAN, YOU’RE SO RIGHT)

-he likes talking to you, surprisingly enough. he’ll gladly take the pieces you give him about your past life to learn more about you. he won’t admit it, but he thinks often of how the two of you would fit into each other’s lives back in the real world.

-hand holding. <3

-he’d let you borrow his hoodie. definitely thinks it looks better on you than it does on him.

-how do I best explain this? your boyfriend is a cat.

-what I mean by this is, he literally would die before admitting it, but his favorite thing is cuddling. or when you play with his hair. oh my god, please play with his hair.

-physical touch is typically something he doesn’t like, but with you? oh boy.

-like, he wouldn’t ask for it. it’d be VERY rare for him to approach you for physical affection outright.

-instead, he’d just...plant himself in front of you. or on you. somehow just be near you enough to send telepathic brain waves in your direction, wanting you to play with his hair or his hands or just to hold him tbh.

-CAT BOY LIKES BEING HELD. I DIDN’T MAKE THE RULES.

-tbh, he might omit some things from you (for the sake of protecting you, in his mind), but he won’t outright lie to you or manipulate you. he thinks you’re too smart for that and you can call his bullshit easily LOL.

-but he also likes impressing you. so he’ll just show up with this ridiculous amount of knowledge out of nowhere, literally for the only purpose of throwing you off.

-also, regarding the term boyfriend. i think hearing you refer to him as your boyfriend secretly gives him butterflies <3

-would take you on faux dates on the rooftop or in your rooms if you liked that kind of thing.

too much? not enough? (also i love you guys honestly, seeing the little lightning bolt on my screen every day gives me the happy chemical. and your comments sometimes got me reeling LOL. i appreciate every one of you)

[allastoredeer]

~Lucifer blanches. He looks around, as if trying to find a sense of Alastor’s words somewhere in the trash-heap he calls a room, before rounding back to him, lips pulling up in disgust. “Are you asking me out?”

“Ahaha!” Alastor laughs, slapping him so hard on the back it nearly takes Lucifer off his feet. “Oh, Heavens no. I’m just proposing we let Hell continue thinking that you and I are,” he waves his hand, searching for the word, “in cahoots. In that way.”~

This is golden comedy right here. Honestly every time I read ur fic I always start wheezing so hard I can’t breathe, u are an amazing writer, hope u know that. When I saw ur last update on the ‘damage control’ chapter i was so excited i devoured it so fast help

Alastor saying he wants to be in ‘cahoots’ with Lucifer it’s so funny to me cause no one use that term anymore, and Lucifer is just downright dumbfounded that they are even having the conversation. I can imagine the shadow rolling his eyes at them, we need more sassy shadow moments, he is so underrated. 😭😭

I love that Lucifer is trying to respect Al boundaries, especially after the ‘incident’ , and doesn’t pry to much on his scars, but now I am curious about what did Al meant. Does he not remember who did that to him? 🥺

Also I am curious about what they gonna tell to the others about their new found relationship. I don’t think Lucifer would want to lie to Charlie, but I also think that it would be too risky to make the whole crew knew they are acting, someone might slip. And it’s not like Al is gonna make it easy for Lucy anyway. If they want to be credible, less ppl knowing it’s best course of action for me.

Last thing~ I really wanted to thank you, cause ur fic really brings me a lot of joy since I recently only been able to find happiness in small things like these , and I I can’t wait to read more🌈

Hehehe, Alastor purposefully refusing to go into depth about their "sexual relationship," and even side-stepping outright calling it a relationship, is what's going to make it all more entertaining when he actually has to commit to the bit. Cuz you see, they're not fucking. They're "in cahoots."

It's different.

(I love Alastor's Shadow being sassy. If it's attached to Alastor, it has to be. I take no critiques.)

😈 Alastor and his scars is something I'm very excited to get into it. I've been thinking about them for a while, and while it may take a bit to actually get the answer, I'm very eager to get there when we do.

The way I see it, Alastor doesn't want to tell the others (as they already know their not actually dating--as he made VERY clear last time), but Lucifer isn't going to be okay with lying to Charlie. Out of the group, Alastor knows he can trust Husk and Niffty to keep it a secret. Maybe Angel Dust too. But he's most worried about Charlie and Vaggie.

Vaggie isn't a good liar, and Charlie's such an open, bright, heart-on-her-sleeves person, he doesn't trust her to keep up the ruse without letting something slip--most likely by accident.

But Lucifer is stubborn. He doesn't want to lie to Charlie, and if he tells Charlie, Charlie is going to tell Vaggie. If Vaggie knows, well, we already know she has a hard time lying on the spot, so if the others see Alastor and Lucifer suddenly "in cahoots," and ask about it, she's not going to be able to come up with a plausible excuse on the fly.

This is all to say, the next installment is going to be full of silly Hazbin Crew hijinks, where Alastor is forcefully enrolled into Chaggies Dating 101 Crash Course, and he is definitely not setting the grading curve. (And maybe we'll even get a bit of HuskerDust thrown in there, who knows. Certainly not me).

And it warms me so much to know that my fic can bring you joy in a time that such things are scarce 🥺 I can't wait to share more of the story with you!

[reneeluv154]

Mean

Hope you like it! 🤍🤍🤍

In this imagine a girl starts pointing out what’s “wrong” with you, Thomas gets protective.

(Sorry if this isn’t all that good. I have a bit of writer's block and I’m struggling with liking what I write.) 🤍🤍

If you like this imagine I have a few more on my profile.🫶🏼

“Y/n, have you always had that much acne.” Everyone’s eyes were now on me. I cracked a small smile not knowing exactly what to say or do. “Yeah, I guess so.” I felt embarrassed, She looked disgusted. “What about your lips? There really chapped, no way Thomas like’s that.” She glanced at Thomas, my boyfriend who sat beside me. “They’ve been chapped since I was a little girl, I’ve had a hard time fixing them.”

She rolled her eyes using her fork to play with the food left on her plate. “Don’t you have dandruff too?” I didn’t understand what she was trying to do. I hated that she was pointing out what I saw as my flaws. Especially in front of Thomas, “That’s kinda gross to talk about at the dinner table.” Cole was right. I nodded “I agree.” She shrugged “I was just curious, Than what’s your weight?”

“That’s enough,” Thomas spoke up. He had a stern look. “I was just curious, weren’t you?” I wanted to slap that stupid smile off her face. “No. I’m not worried about how much she weighs or her acne. I don’t think there is anything about her that isn’t beautiful and I hope she doesn’t either.” He leaned in closer as he talked, his voice was different almost like a hushed yell.

She had nothing to say. Thomas looked at me his face and voice now filled with love and care. “Are you okay?” He whispered, I just nodded forcing a small smile. After a few minutes I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to look in a mirror and pick at my face or my lips, to weigh myself or scrub my head as hard as I could with shampoo.

“I’m gonna go use the restroom.” I made it to the bathroom and locked the door, looking at myself in the large mirror.

-Thomas’ POV-

Y/n had been in the bathroom for a good 30 minutes now, making me worry. I decided to give her five more minutes before going to check on her.

-Y/n’s POV-

The soft knock on the door made me jump. “Y/n, are you okay?” Thomas. I slightly panic but try and calm myself. “I’m fine.” I unlock the door and open it trying to hide my red face and bleeding lips. “What are you doing silly.” Thomas chuckled, softly grabbing my arm and my cheek guiding me to look at him. The small smirk he carried dropped when he looked at me. “Why would you do this?” He caressed my cheek slowly moving to caress my lips. “Your poor lips, baby.”

A small whisper was all I could muster.“I'm sorry.” My eyes watered from guilt and sadness maybe a little bit of insecurity. “Don’t cry. I don’t want my beautiful girl to cry.” His small smile made one appear on my sore lips. He started to kiss me all over my face, making me giggle and try to escape. His low chuckle echoed through the private hall before he gave my lips a small and gentle kiss.

“I love you y/n.” He sounded so sweet.

“I love you.” I smiled wrapping my arms around his neck before giving him a big hug.

(Each and every person who is reading this. You are absolutely gorgeous! Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Your not alone with your struggles weather it’s physical or mental. I’m here for you and proud of you. 🤍)

[dyelwi]

I’m not on Twitter so I don’t see a lot of negative things about Athena. How exactly are people ableist to her? /gq (I don’t doubt it, I’m curious though 😅)

Hi, yeah I feel like going on that rant now lol. Gonna clarify first that this isn’t some Big New Discourse, rather it’s just an observation I’ve personally made from seeing the way people talk about Athena, especially on Twitter but here to an extent as well. Putting this under a read more because it got VERY long. It’s sort of a character analysis and sort of a fandom analysis??? Idk lol.

Athena is mentally disabled. This is heavily implied at LEAST, though I’d say it’s straight up canon. Even if you don’t subscribe to the common interpretation of some of her experiences (sensory issues, trouble communicating especially when young but even in the present to an extent, her relating to robots more than people as a child) it’s clear that these things actively disabled her at the very least as a child. There’s some bigger posts going more into how autism coded she is but that’s actually not even what I see people being ableist about!

Even if you look at her and think that the autism is just a headcanon, it’s pretty undeniable that she has severe trauma that presents much like PTSD, especially with how the main symptoms she displays are flashbacks and repressing memories of the trauma, which I wanted to note are actually real things that happen but are used in fiction especially often to portray severe trauma. PTSD is a mental disorder that most agree on as a disability from what I’ve seen (phrased this way because there’s no real list of what disorders are and aren’t a disability, it matters more how it impacts an individual, but PTSD often impacts people in ways that are disabling) and sure enough we see that it disables Athena.

Athena has trauma specifically surrounding murder and court trials. And she works as a defense attorney!!! This is important because it means she is frequently around things that trigger her (in the way the word is meant to be used, not the meme-y way people sometimes use it). It’s like if Edgeworth became an elevator repair guy or something. And sure enough, we see her struggle because of her trauma being triggered. This is something that happens not only in ace attorney 5, the game which most explores her trauma, but also to an extent in ace attorney 6 when Nahyuta basically tries to bully her out of defending Bucky (I love Nahyuta but this is not his nicest moment lol). She begins to question if she really can do a case by herself. She hears the feelings of everyone in the room (if you want to bring the likely autism into it, this is a point for that as she’s having some sensory overload), and she reaches perhaps one of her lowest points in the case. She is struggling, due to her disability(-ies if we include likely autism) because Nahyuta and the gallery (more so their emotions she heard but same thing) triggered her. You could argue she doesn’t like go into full panic flashback mode here but to me at least, this doesn’t mean she isn’t struggling or that she isn’t triggered. She’s probably been able to start healing after aa5 after all. Regardless of that, even Simon specifically says that Nahyuta is using her hearing abilities against her to try to win, so if you’re considering the autism as an aspect of this that feels like more than enough. And so, Simon Blackquill, who sees one of his closest ever friends struggling in protecting something he cares about, steps in to help as her assistant.

People hate this. And I was surprised when I learned that. Simon is one of my favorite characters and one of my favorite parts of this case. But people apparently blame misogyny for him coming to help her, when if we’re looking at this from the perspective of the ace attorney writers they clearly just wanted to give Simon some (deserved) screentime and use the typical ace attorney setup where there’s a character assisting the defense attorney. It was weird going into this that Athena was alone, quite frankly, as that only happens on rare occasions in the ace attorney formula. Athena is not being treated as a pathetic woman that needs help when other characters wouldn’t. The other defense attorneys in this series need help rather often actually. And Athena is a defense attorney in an ace attorney game. And in-universe, she is a disabled person working in an environment where she is constantly at risk of her disability, well…. Disabling her. And I think most people would argue that disabled people needing help isn’t a bad thing! But for some reason, people refuse to give Athena the same grace they’ve given other characters in the past who weren’t even in as triggering of situations as she was in this moment.

And so people talk about their dream Athena-led cases, where she needs no assistant. I understand where they’re coming from, if you can’t tell I’m a HUGE Athena fan and I want to see her character grow and develop, I want to see her get her own game. But often people really like to talk about the idea of her not needing help, being able to do a case on her own. Not only is this rare and difficult for the average ace attorney defense lawyer, but it begins to feel a lot like when, in the real world, people try to convince disabled people to work through their disability or push the idea that growing and being their best self doesn’t involve accommodations. This is generally accepted to be a pretty shitty and ableist way to look at disabled people that is often tied to what people mean when talking about how people can treat overcoming disability as a sort of inspiration porn. When people say that Athena should be able to defend on her own and imply that this would make her better somehow, it feels like they’re saying that in order to be better at their jobs disabled people should just get over their disabilities to be stronger. Which I know is not something a lot of people that say these things about Athena would actually agree with! I don’t think people are doing this maliciously. But I wish people understood that this is what I hear when they say these things, as someone with multiple mental disabilities myself.

I relate to Athena a lot. I have, since her introduction, seen myself in her more than I have almost any other fictional character. And I wish people understood that what they imply when they talk about her like this can hurt a bit. I worry a lot about being able to do my future career effectively (I’m a college student rn hence the future part) and so to hear people imply these things about Athena?? I feel it by extension. You can say I’m just projecting or whatever, I don’t care, but I think people need to understand that disability is a big part of Athena’s character and that how they think about her can reflect some subtle, unconscious thoughts and feelings they may have about people like her that exist in the real world. I know ace attorney is just a video game series. I know that it’s typical of writers to treat things like this as something a character will push past to become stronger. But it’s a bit disheartening to hear so many people agree all the time, especially when the game itself hasn’t even done that with Athena’s arc, at least not yet.

tldr Athena is a victim of fandom ableism more than writer misogyny in this specific aspect surrounding her capabilities as a defense attorney who is written as a disabled character and who exists within the ace attorney setup

[layce2015]

Sneak Peek #2 for The Boys Fic (Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader)

(A/n: Soooo…hey everybody! I know it has been awhile since my last post, which announced that I was gonna do a The Boys fic, and I am sorry for the wait. For anyone wondering, yes I am still doing it I’ve just been dealing with every writer’s worst nightmare….Wirter’s Block!

Mainly it’s cause the show doesn’t give a whole lot of Soldier Boy’s backstory and I’ve been adding some flashbacks into my fic that shows how Soldier Boy and (y/n) interacted. But all we got of Soldier Boy’s past is from other people’s perspective and maybe some mentions from the man himself. So it has been a rough to come up with scenarios from little information we got. So I stepped back from it for a bit. But now I’m back on working on it and I have at least two and a half chapters written out and it’s supposed to have at least 8 chapters. But it could be more if Soldier Boy ends up appearing in season 4.

Anyway, to prove that I am working on this fic, here is another sneak peek for the fic.)

"Well, we got to talk. I think I have something, thanks to my informant." Maeve said and she hands him a folder. "Informant?" Butcher asked as he takes the file and opens it to see some pages of information and pictures of Soldier Boy. "Soldier Boy. So what?" Butcher said as he looks up at her.

"Remember how he died?" Maeve asked him. "Stopping a nuclear meltdown in Ohio. '83, '84, I think, got buried beneath a reactor. Always thought it was bollocks." Butcher said. "Yeah, you thought right. Read." She tells him and he reads the file.

"What's B.C.L. RED?" He asked. "If you believe the rumors, it's the thing that killed Soldier Boy. My informant said it's some kind of gun or weapon or something. Had to have been a fսcking H-bomb. He was nearly as strong as..." Maeve said as Butcher looks through the file and looks at some pictures.

"If we can find this...weapon or whatever it is, maybe we can use it to blow Homelander's fսcking brains out." Maeve said. "If it is real, not some fսcking fable." Butcher said then he picks up the team-up picture of Payback. "Payback." Butcher mutters before he scoffs. "What a bunch of fսcking wankеrs." He said as he stares at photo. "When The Seven passed them as the number one super team, Crimson Countess sent me a box of cat shit. But not all of them were bad. She was a close friend of Soldier Boy and his ex-girlfriend." Maeve said as she gestures to the photo and points at the red-haired woman in the red outfit who was standing on the right of Soldier Boy.

"And, uh, Gunpowder was his sidekick." She said as she points at the young teen who was standing at Soldier Boy's left. "If anyone knows what happened to him, they do." Maeve said while Butcher noticed Noir in the photo. "Your mate Noir was in Payback. Why don't you ask him?" He asked her and Maeve scoffs. "Even if that walking tumor could talk, it wouldn't be to me." She said and Butcher looks at the photo again and noticed a woman standing on the other side of Gunpowder.

She looked about in her late twenties, her long (h/c) hair was braided and she was wearing a dark blue body-suit and a gold belt and knee high boots, a matching cape on her shoulders.

"Is that...?" Butcher started to ask and Mavee nodded. "Mystic Shade, yeah." She said. "Haven't heard that name in years." Butcher said and Maeve shrugs. "She retired sometime after Soldier Boy's death. She was fucking Soldier Boy." Maeve said as Butcher flips to another photo and this one was of Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade together. They were both smiling and Mystic Shade was hugging Soldier Boy as he had an arm around her waist.

Butcher then looks at Maeve. "Well then, I should be visiting her, not these two knobs." Butcher said but Maeve shakes her head. "No, Mystic Shade is off limits." She said, firmly, and Butcher gives her a curious look. "And why is that, princess?" Butcher asked and Maeve just glares at him.

Suddenly, it clicks with him. "Mystic Shade is your informant, isn't she?" He asked and Maeve averts his gaze and he smiles, knowing he was right. "Fine! Yes, she was the one that gave me this information. But she told me, specifically, that she didn't want to be questioned because this is all she wanted to give." Maeve said and Butcher watches her. "So, please, don't go bothering her." Maeve demanded.

"Well, well, well, didn't know you had such a soft spot for Mystic Shade." Butcher said and Maeve sighs. "We've been in communication for almost a year. Then when she heard about Homelander and all the fucked up things he's done and how I want him gone, she provided this." Maeve said and Butcher gives her a look that basically said he knew there was more to it.

"Fine, she was one of the heroes I looked up to when I was a kid, okay! Unlike most of these assholes, she actually cares about people." Maeve said. "Oh, I doubt that." Butcher said. "Doubt it all you want but it's the truth." Maeve said as she digs into her purse and pulls out a little bag. "Here." She said and Butcher takes the bag, unzips it and sees small vials of green liquid.

"What's this?" He asked her. "It's Temp V. One shot makes you a Supe for 24 hours. I mean, they think. It's still in R&D." Maeve said and Butcher gives her a look. "Oh, great, so powers, maybe. Maybe my bollocks swell up like footballs. Yeah?" Butcher said, sarcastically. "Payback may be a bunch of fսck holes, but they're strong. And they're dangerous. If you're going against them, you're gonna need it." Maeve warns.

"And what makes you think that me, of all people, would want to turn into one of you?" Butcher asked her as he takes a step closer to her. "This is our best chance to kill Homelander. Don't fսck it up." She said.

(A/n: And here is another peek, this is one of the flashbacks.)

I walk up to the stage as Doctor Vought was at the microphone, talking. Then he turns to me and holds his arm out to me. “Now please welcome the new hero, Mystic Shade!” He said and I push back all of my negative emotions and smile and wave as I walk up to him while the crowd applauded.

I go to Dr. Vought and he shakes my hand then kisses both of my cheeks then leads me to the microphone. Once I get to the microphone, Dr Vought said. “Now, Mystic Shade, will be taking questions.”

And a flood of voices saying over here, over here chanted out and Vought points to a random person. “Yes, you there!” He calls out. “How does it feel to be selected to join by Dr. Vought?” A male voice called out. “Um, it is an incredible opportunity here. And I’m very excited to join.” I replied then more raised hands and voices. Dr Vought pointed out to a different man. 

“When did you first discover your powers?” The second man asked me. “I was about fifteen or sixteen years old when I found out. I guess I was alway born with them it just didn’t develop until I became a teenager.” I replied. “And what are they? I mean, what can you do?” The man asked. “Well, I’m strong, I can move objects without touching them and I can make shields to protect myself and people around me.” I replied and there was a series of ooh’s and aah’s across the crowd. 

Then another round of hands shooting up in the air and Dr Vought points at another hand. "So, are you gonna help out with the war? If so, how does it feel to be the first woman to be out in the field?" The third man asked. "It is something I never would've imagined but I want to help out not just the country but the people who are involved." I said then another man calls out.

​​​​​​"So what's it feel like to achieve everything you hoped for?" He asked and I paused at this. Truth is I didn't achieve anything, this is all a lie. I wanted to scream that out so badly but I couldn't as I stood there frozen. "I-I, uh..." I stammered then Vought comes up to me and places his hands on my shoulders. "I'm sure she feels fantastic. She's being very modest right now. Not being used to this kind of attention can make anyone freeze. So let's give a hand for our new hero!" Vought said and there was applause and I give a small, weak smile.

Minutes later, I walk out on the balcony and took in a deep breath then let it out. Being in that ballroom suffocated me. I lean against the stone railings of the balcony and took in some quick breathes until anger rose in my chest and I slam my fists down on it, making the stone crack. "Whoa-ho, remind me not to make you angry." A male voice said, a bit of a laugh in his tone. 

I jumped at this, not expecting anyone out here, and look to my left to see a man, in a army uniform with a long coat, standing some feet away from me. "I'm not in the mood to talk." I grumbled and I look out on the balcony. "I figured. Saw you up on that stage....and well, here..." he said and I look over at him and see him holding a bottle out to me.​​​​​ "You need this more than me."

"Did you steal that from party?" I asked him. "More like borrowing." He said, shrugging, and I chuckled a bit then take the bottle from him. "Thank you." I said and I begin to drink from it. "I'm guessing rough day?" He asked me. “You could say that.” I muttered and I take another drink from the bottle. 

“These Vought parties are never what the public thinks they are. The only good things here are the food, the booze…and the pretty women.” He said and he gives me a flirtatious smile. I giggled a little and smile, which I just realized is my first genuine smile I’ve made in months. “I’m flattered but…I’m married.” I tell him and he has a surprised look on his face.

”I don’t believe that.” He said and I raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh? And why is that?” I asked him. “No sane man, especially a husband, would leave you out here on your own.”  He said and I laugh a little again. “Maybe, I wanted to be alone.” I said and he shrugs a little. “You may have a point. But, even so, shouldn’t be out here alone. Some stranger could try to chat you up.” He said. “Like you?” I asked him, smiling, and he chuckles.

”Yeah…” he mutters and we share a small laugh then he holds his hand out to me. “I’m Ben.” He introduces and I take his hand. “(Y/n).” I said as we shake hands. “(Y/n), beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He said and I give a bashful smile to him. “Thank you.” I said then he kisses the back of my hand and I felt my heart leap in my chest.

I haven’t felt this way in a long time, not since I married my husband. 

“So, you happily married?” He asked me and my smile falters. “Judging by that frown, I’m guessing not.” Ben said and I sighed. “Just…going through a tough time right now.” I said. “That’s why I never married, when the tough times come in, there’s nothing to tie you down.” Ben said and I nod at this. “I’m starting to think that’s a good idea.” I said before I drink from the bottle again.

At that moment, we hear the door open behind us and I look over my shoulder to see it was Adam. “There you are.” Adam said as he comes up to me. Then he looks over at Ben and seems surprised. “Oh, I see you’re talking to your teammate.” He said and I furrow my brow. “Huh?” I said and Adam places an arm around my shoulder. “This is Soldier Boy. Your partner in the war.” Adam tells me and I was surprised by this.

I have heard the name Soldier Boy but I didn’t know what he looked like since I was trapped in that lab for the last few months.

I look over at Ben and he gives me a smile. “Surprise?” He asked me. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me for not recognizing you, sir.” I said to him. “It’s fine, just don’t go forgetting my face now.” He said, smiling, and I chuckled. “I most certainly will not.” I said and he nods.

”Well, I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sure I’m needed in there.” Ben said as he gestures to the door. And I felt a little sad about him leaving, I was kinda enjoying his company. “You two have a good evening.” Ben said as he walks over to the door. “And you as well.” Adam said then Adam turns to me as I look out on the balcony.

”I see you already starting the night off.” Adam said, gesturing to the bottle of champagne in my hands, but I don’t respond as I look over my shoulder in time to see Ben go to the door. It seemed he sensed me and he looks over his shoulder at me then smiles and gives me a wink before he walks in.

My heart absolutely fluttered at this and I felt my face go red before I look back out on the balcony.

[ameliatheperson]

Nicknames

@wolfstarmicrofic

April 1st, prompt: Summer Camp AU- 671 words

As Remus walked past the gate and to the hubbub of activity that was the summer camp his parents had sent him to, he pushed a smile onto his face and worries out of his mind. Through the din, he made out one particularly loud voice, belonging to a boy around his age with jet-black hair down to his shoulders and a mischievous grin.. He was calling out to people- friends, Remus assumed- but Remus was only confused about the sheer amount of nicknames he was using, unless there were people actually named “Prongs”, “Wormtail” or “Flower”. Remus barely noticed that he had stopped walking until the boy seemed to notice him pondering.

“Hey, you new?” The boy asked, after he had walked over to greet Remus. He was a good bit shorter than Remus, with almost shocking grey eyes. “My name’s Sirius, but my friends call me Padfoot. I’m gonna need a nickname for you, if we’re friends.” At that, he flashed a grin.

Remus nodded and smiled. “I’m Remus. Do you need to have a nickname for everyone you meet?”

“Mhm!” The shorter boy, Padfoot, nodded. At Remus’ questioning look, he said “My family is annoyingly proper, so this is the one time of the year I actually get to have fun.” That sounds reasonable, Remus thought.

“Since you’re new, do you need a tour guide? I know the ins and outs of this camp, I’ve been going since I was eleven!” Sirius explained.

“How could I ever pass this up then?” Remus joked, and they were off.

- -

Remus tossed and turned in the bunk that would be his for the rest of the summer. It must have been at least half past eleven, maybe even nearing midnight, and Remus hadn’t had a wink of sleep. You’d think that after the day he’d had- the meeting people, the moving in, the activity introductions- that he'd be out like a light. But alas, here Remus was, feeling the energy coursing through him.

Once he was sure he wouldn’t be sleeping that night, Remus decided to at least get his restless energy out. He tiptoed down the ladder in his bunk and padded towards the door to the cabin, being careful not to wake any of his bunkmates.

Once he was safely outside, he started walking on the path, stretching his limbs. He didn’t even notice he wasn’t alone until a familiar voice sounded from his side, making him jump.

“Can’t sleep? Or do you just have a habit of mysterious night walks?” Remus turned sharply to see that head of long, dark hair and that playful smile. Sirius’ eyebrows raised seeing the taller boy’s shock. “Wow, you need to be more aware of your surroundings,” He joked, starting to walk down the trail. After a beat, Remus started and rushed to catch up.

“Uh, yeah” Remus answered his question, attempting to keep up through his awe. “I, uh, have trouble sleeping sometimes. It’s nothing,” Remus cleared his throat in an attempt to make his heartbeat slow back down. “And what about you?” He turned the question on Padfoot, trying to gain more knowledge about this boy.

Sirius only smiled. “No, I don’t. I was only curious as to what you were doing. You know there’s a buddy system for a reason, right? You never know what’s out in these woods.” With that, he grinned up at Remus.

Remus huffed. It can’t be that bad, right? “You think I’m afraid of some deer or squirrels?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I’ve heard there’s also wolves that come through!” Padfoot rebutted with an air of faux mystery.

“Remus rolled his eyes and quipped, “I don't reckon wolves could be too bad, I’ve got dogs at home.”

After a moment of thought, Padfoot’s eyes lit up with some sort of discovery. “I know what I’ll call you now!”

“Hm?”

Since you’re so buddy-buddy with wolves and go on mysterious night walks, you’ll be Moony.”

And, for the rest of the summer, he was.

(author talking time: Hey, thanks for reading this! I'm still a beginner writer, this is my second microfic so bear with me :] thanks to @skye-draws-stuff for proofreading this for me and helping finish it up! if anyone has any critiques it would be much appreciated, and have a great day/night!)