#the oven is a dangerous thing

[anaconda-creates]

yes but have you ever caught both oven mitts on fire

while they were still on your hands

I have

i am forever finding new, stupider ways to burn myself in the kitchen

[nightmaretour]

My phone died sorry if I’m sending this twice

Typically when I’m trying to tell if something is hot I’m cooking so I’ll put some water in the pan and see if it sizzles. Other than that, I’ll get my hand close to the object but not actually touch it to see if heat’s radiating. If I don’t feel anything then ill tentatively tap it a couple times

Makes sense! Hot pans are the one thing I've figured out luckily (I usually touch it with the food I'm planning to cook or drop a small piece in, the water thing does sound more effective though) but putting my hand near rather than on the thing sounds like the smarter option. Just got to control the impulse to touch it, as far as my brain is concerned if I can't see the danger then it isn't there so training myself to recognise that something will hurt me is often an uphill battle. Thanks for the advice!

[help-help-i-need-an-adult]

If you could eat any food from lord of the rings which would you like to try?

Anything Samwise Gamgee is making with a fully stocked pantry and the kitchen of his dreams.

I bet that man can cook.

And I’m NOT allowed to cook. For many reasons.

[byanyan]

I assume they're terrible in the kitchen

re: "post your oc & let people assume things about them"

ㅤyou assume correctly, anon; byan is, in fact, absolutely horrendous in the kitchen. impatient and hating to follow instructions, they get easily frustrated when trying to cook and mostly just like getting to play with the knives. they'll chop things up pretty well (until they inevitably get carried away, that is), but after that, all they really know how to do is boil water for instant ramen. ...and use a microwave. even in making ramen though, they've burned & scalded themself more times than they're willing to admit.

[trenchcoatsbi]

well yall it was a pleassure to meet you

(I love secret's shenanigans so much they are so funny PFFT)

-(cannon divergent llulah anon)⭑

o7 I’ll make sure you get a proper funeral.

[karmaphone]

They make plastic film that you can stick to your windows from the inside and heat with a hairdryer to shrink. They work wonders to hold in window heat - coming from an Alaskan who dealt with -50°F winters growing up. Last time I looked they were like $15 on Amazon, but it's been a few years since I last checked. You can also add blankets and towels and curtains on top and below for extra insulation!

If the room you are staying in is adjoined to the kitchen and you have fuel/power, please know I have heated a whole two-floor cabin in the Alaskan winter with the heat from an open stove. Please be careful, as this can both raise your electricity bill very high/use a lot of fuel and can be a danger to pets, children, distracted folk, etc.

for fellow austins and the rest of texas

fuck ERCOT

[david-watts]

guess who forgot to eat again and I actually don't know what I'm gonna do because my only option requires the oven and if I use that I'm going to get yelled at

[valithiri]

There were a lot of weird/fucked up/ spectacularly batshit aspects of going to a summer camp run by a uber devout church group as a pre teen but one of the wildest parts to me personally was the fact that the theme one year was that we were all "soldiers in the army of god" so our camp shirts were camouflage printed and we all got matching dog tags with scriptures on the back 🙃

[potchi-fics]

note: backshots with g!p vi mhhmmpffhmmhfpphfmmm, also it's 3:50 am here when i finished writing this (w/o the good boy for the folks out there, here's the link, all of my g!p works will be posted in there.)

      vi’s libido is exceptionally high—especially when it comes to you and you only. you have the power to turn her on, to make her dick so hard, it’ll leave her aching, needy, and whiney. you could be bending to get something you baked from the oven, or press your tits on her arms to show her something, or just wear shorts that reveal your thighs.

her eyes have never shined so brightly. her dick gets harder and harder every time. the moment you step out of your shared bathroom wearing just her shirt and underwear—she is gone.

“vi, how are you turned on right now,” her hands roam your body, still slightly damp from a shower, “you seriously cannot be turned on.”

      she kisses your neck, vi’s front making contact against your back, leading you to lean your head to the side, giving her more access. 

vi whines out, her hips grinding on your backside, hissing at the small pleasure, “please, baby. can’t help it,” your hand lands on her hips as she begins to grind, letting you feel her cock through her shorts, “you make me feel so good.”

“vi–” you feel fingers at the garters of your underwear, eyes widening once she pulls it down, pooling around your midthighs.

      well, good thing your libido is higher, yeah?

she pushes you towards the end of your bed, making you land on your knees. and without even a second thought, vi flattens her tongue on your pussy, toes curling at the sudden pleasure. her thumb circles your clit at an agonizingly slow pace, but her tongue, god, her tongue is doing wonders to you.

a squeal escapes your throat when you feel her push in, hands gripping the sheets. vi’s groans serve as a vibration and it adds to the pleasure she’s giving you. she pulls her tongue out, licking down to replace her thumb. she alternates between sucking and giving your clit kitten licks.

“ne-need you inside, vi,” your mewls and whimpers spur her on, eyes shut, “inside, hurry.”

      obeying like a soldier, she quickly slips two fingers inside of your sopping cunt, groaning at the warmness and tightness of you. vi curls her fingers, her tongue doing circles on your clit.

the feeling of the tip of her fingers prodding on your g-spot makes your entire body quiver in need. you wet your sheets with your drool, face digging deeper into, crescent-like marks appearing on your palms with how tight you grip.

vi is no better; her shorts are ruined, the head of her cock dripping with precum. her cock itself is already sensitive, pulsing and twitching inside the material, straining against it. 

“vi, baby,” your voice is muffled, barely gasping your words out, “need you inside. your cock.”

      you turn your head to stare at her—the big bad wolf of zaun is broken, disheveled: hair is tussled, body coated in sweat, eyes needy. she pulls down her shorts just enough for her dick to slip out, slapping against her navel, and the tip just a little bit shorter than the patch of red hair.

your eyes glint dangerously under the light, face holding a barely contained smirk; you’ve got her wrapped around your finger. 

she grips the base of her cock, slapping it on your wet cunt, making another whimper escape you. vi slowly slips the head of her cock, biting her lip at the sight of you welcoming her. you bury your face into the mattress once more, attempting to at least suppress your noises.

you can cum with how her dick slides into you, how she goes deeper and deeper, ever so slowly; letting you feel her thickness, the veins. 

vi whines when you clamp down on her the moment the back of your thighs meets her own, “baby, so tight.” she brings the hem of her tanktop to her mouth, biting it to keep it from covering your pussy, “gripping me so good.”

“move.”

      vi rocks her hips, you refuse to let go of her. her thumbs press down on your back dimples, using your body as leverage to pump your cunt on her dick. unconsciously, you spread your legs wider, arching your back a little more, pushing back against her. 

every time she pulls out, only to thrust back in, it makes your eyes roll. with the way she’s moving, you can feel it deep in your pussy, the head of her cock dragging itself on your walls—you’re already convulsing in pleasure.

vi changes her pace, faster and harder, slamming into you like she’s about to put a baby in you. she bites down into her shirt, seeing your slick on her dick encourages her to fuck you harshly.

your unfocused gaze lands back at her, “i think i’m about to cum already, baby,” vi’s surprised gaze, hazed even, bores into you, “mh-hmm… you make me feel so good, vi. such a good boy for me.”

      she shudders at your praise, abdomen flexing, her dick twitching inside of you. she pulls you up by your arms, your back still arching as she pushes her hips into yours, forcing her dick to go deeper.

she pulls out until her tip’s only what’s left inside of you before slamming back in. she wraps one hand around your throat, attacking your neck with bites and kisses, leaving marks that’ll last for days. 

you’re letting out sinful and unforgivable noises, throat beginning to get sore, but neither of you cares. you lean your head back on her shoulder, a hand going up to caress the back of her head, grasping her hair to ground yourself.

“make me cum, baby, rub my clit,” to help you get over the edge, she gives attention to your puffy clit, rubbing it, her cock splitting you thin, “just like that, vi.”

      vi’s shudders again, holding back her orgasm just for you. she speeds up, a yelp emitting from you. you are just so tight, so warm, so good. your pussy sucks her cock in like a succubus, you’re milking her.

she feels your chest heave excessively, broken whispers of her name—her eyes are tightly shut close, and she’s cumming. she cums like a hose, filling you up to the brim with her cum. with each spurt, she thrusts; you love it. you love it so much that you’re going over the edge along with her.

“baby, your pussy’s crushing me,” vi whimpered meekly, cock still cumming, “fuck, you feel so good.”

you laugh tiredly, enjoying how her dick spasms inside of you, your eyes still closed, “not my fault your dick is massive, honey.”

      her posture relaxes once she stops cumming, her arms hugging your torso, the both of you catching your breath before she’s separating herself from you. vi lifts her tanktop once again as she looks down, she pulls out slowly, groaning at the way your cunt grips her dick, or how a bridge of your cum and hers appears.

“you’re carrying me to the bathroom.”

[novelbear]

cute (and clumsy) cooking prompts 🥣🍪

a prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ

"come make tanghulu with me!" "no. we burnt all the sugar last time. you remember? we managed to burn. sugar."

accidentally using sugar instead of salt (or vice versa) and trying to quickly think of a way to cover it up before the other finds out

teaching the other how to use a certain tool (can opener, potato peeler, etc.) since they're somehow doing it so terribly, dangerously wrong.

bickering over whether or not they should follow the recipe word for word

"cheese? i thought you said peas. i bought peas." "...eh, i guess that's fine too. put them in."

setting like three separate timers for different things and then forgetting which timer went to what.

one lying about knowing how to cook and promising to walk the other through a recipe for a date idea (then having to spend all day trying to perfect the recipe themselves)

^ or they can just wing it and chaos ensues naturally

finding out the oven is broken after already prepping everything together

"god, could you stir any slower?" "you try this then!"

^ *proceeds to stir perfectly fine whilst the other glares in annoyance*

having to pause and tend to the other because they burnt a singular finger

"did you wash those?" [very obviously lying] "....of course."

sweetly lifting a spoon to their mouth to taste a little of the food

^ this immediately backfiring because the food was still too hot.

[after the meal is successfully cooked] "so we agree we're not attempting this again, right? "not for a long while."

one ordering delivery halfway through and the other just stares in disbelief

^ "you're serious? we're working our asses off here and you ordered chicken." "we had a rough start, okay? i thought we would have given up by now."

dancing and making fun out of having to clean up the mess in the kitchen

spending the next day in bed together as they had somehow given themselves food poisoning.

[pepsiboyy]

WHEN THE HOUSE IS EMPTY.

pairing: soft dom!chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: when chris finally gets the house to himself for the night, he invites his girlfriend over to spend the night spoiling her rotten. warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (be smart pls), fingering, oral (fem receiving), praise, use of pet names (angel, love), cursing, fluff fluff fluff, established relationship a/n: this is my first smut on here pls bear w me... but i hope it is AWESOME i love u guys <3 please give me feedback also !! i hope this is ok . <3 3.2k words

i swallowed thickly as i grasped the straps of my backpack, standing at the front door of my boyfriend's home.

chris had texted me last night, asking if i could come spend the night tonight as his brothers had planned to do something that had to do with "business stuff".

i had never really done this sort of thing. chris and i had been together about three to four months, and we had confessed our love to one another and kissed and whatnot, but that's about it. it didn't bother either of us, we just moved at a pace we were both comfortable at.

my eyes snapped up at chris opened the door and grinned ear to ear, opening his arms wide to engulf my body into his. "hi, angel," he greeted against my ear.

i hugged his waist with a soft smile. with a deep breath, i took in the comforting scent of his cologne mixed with the scent of his shampoo.

as chris pulled away, he gently took my hand and guided me inside. once he shut and locked the front door, he reached out to take my bag from me and transport it to his bedroom.

i let out a content sigh as i took in the familiar home, but it was so different when it was just chris here. much quieter, too.

"i have such a fun night planned for us!" chris cheered as he came back up the stairs, his hands clasped together in excitement.

i couldn't help but smile warmly at him.

the white tank that hugged his torso perfectly and his black sweats that hung dangerously low kept my attention on him.

"what do you have planned?" i asked as i took a seat at the table in the kitchen, smiling warmly at him.

chris did a little dance, his slightly dampened hair flopping with each sudden movement before he halted and shot two finger guns at me. "dinner!"

i chuckled at his embarrassing dance, nodding softly and standing up. "what're we makin'?"

chris's jaw dropped. "are you kidding? i already made it." he giggled as he opened the oven to reveal a tin of fettuccini alfredo with grilled chicken, some slices of garlic bread on the side. he also went into the fridge, where behind all the different lyrical lemonade cans, there was a bowl of ceasar salad.

"did you make this yourself?" i asked, my jaw hung open in shock.

"well," he started as he trailed off, "i guess nick helped a bit.. and youtube... matt, too, sorta.."

"it looks amazing," i stood up and smiled as i wrapped an arm around chris's waist, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "i can't wait to eat!"

i moved to pull away, but chris gently took my jaw between his fingers and turned our faces together again, exchanging one quick peck to my lips. "me neither," he replied with a soft smile.

dinner was outstanding. i never could have thought that chris could put something like that together.

"blue shell!" chris's voice boomed as his hands gripped the controller in his hands.

"fuck!" i shouted, my tongue sticking out in focus as i tried my hardest to remain in first place in mario kart.

"please, please, please, please," chris chanted, his entire body straight as he was sitting at the edge of the couch. "yes!!" he shouted, flying past me in the game at the last moment to take first place. his arms flew in the air, controller loosely dangling from his fingers as he shot me a shit-eating grin.

"not fair," i stated quickly.

"it definitely is, y/n, i won fair and square." he defended, moving to hug my waist and press his nose into the crook of my neck.

i chuckled at this, a hand of mine moving to his jaw to caress his cheek softly. "fine. you win."

chris did a small fist pump before pulling away with a bright smile.

we sat like that for a few moments, eyes locked on one another before he gasped at the song that came on. "oh my god, i fucking love this song." he stated quickly as he took my hands and stood to his feet, dragging me up with him.

i gasped at the sudden movement, my smile never leaving my face as i laughed beside him.

3 nights by dominic fike had started playing in the speaker that chris had set up, which was playing ambient music most of our time tonight. he turned it up and smiled widely as he held my hands, waving them around and biting his lip into a wide smile.

i couldn't help but smile at him, the way his curly hair bounced with each silly dance he did, his fingers never unlocking from mine. every once in a while he would stop for a breath before starting again, his eyes locked on mine.

i did my best to keep up, jumping around with him and waving my arms as we both loudly sang the words. no matt to give us shit for being too loud in the living room today.

the song eventually came to an end, both of us panting softly as we both smiled at one another. a soft chuckle escaped both of us, before the next song began playing.

i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys?

"since when do you listen to this?" i chuckled.

"i- it's a good song," chris defended, his cheeks growing pink as he moved his hands to gently take my waist. "also because it's one of your favorites."

i smiled warmly at him. "alright, buddy," i smiled. i moved my arms up to rest on his shoulders, my hands connecting behind his head as i looked up at him and chuckled. "are we slow dancing in your living room?"

"maybe?"

"is this your idea of a smooth move?" i joked, a soft giggle leaving me as chris's face burnt up.

"hey, let a man live." he defended, his thumb gently rubbing circles on my back as we swayed softly.

i had to give it to him - i was having a great time with him.

what started as me being a nervous wreck for whatever reason resulted in me having an amazing time.

"y/n," chris stated softly, dragging me out of my thoughts. i locked eyes with him, smiling. "i love you," he whispered softly.

i could feel my cheeks heat up. "i love you too, chris." i smiled as i gently moved a hand to bury into his hair, gently running my fingers through it. "i've had a great time so far tonight."

chris smiled at this, nodding softly as he removed a hand from my waist to gently press against my cheek, holding my face there softly. "can i kiss you?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

i nodded softly as i closed my eyes and leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of us.

chris's thumb gently grazed my cheek as he kissed me softly, his eyes closed.

no words could express the feelings i was feeling right now.

feeling a bit bold, my arms tightened around him as i deepened the kiss and tilted my head softly against him.

i could feel chris's lips curve into a small smile as he moved his hand from my waist to my lower back, his lips working against mine in sync with me.

when he gently took my bottom lip between his, i parted my lips softly as our tongues collided.

a few more moments went by and we pulled away, both with heavy breaths and a string of saliva that kept us connected for a brief moment.

we stared at each other for a brief moment before i took a deep breath. "chris," i started, before taking his hand in mine and interlocking our fingers, "i'm, uhh... i'm ready.. if you wanna-"

"me too," he quickly stated, a bright smile on his face as he tightened his grip on my hand and began walking towards the steps downstairs, which i followed and giggled as he tripped slightly on the way to his room.

"watch your step, chris!"

"i'll be fine," he smiled as he opened the door and turned us around so that my back faced his bed, his foot lifting off the ground to kick the door shut behind him. the door shut a little louder than he had anticipated, causing us both to flinch. "oops."

"chris-" i scolded, but i was quickly cut off when he pressed his lips to mine once more, gently pushing me against the mattress and hovering over me.

his hand gently grazed my hip and toyed with the hem of my shirt. he pulled away from the kiss to glance down at his hand, and back into my eyes. "is this okay?" he asked softly, which i quickly responded with a nod. "tell me if anything isn't okay, alright?" he stated softly, and gently began lifting my shirt off of my body.

the comfort of chris's voice was enough for me to let him do whatever he had wanted.

the cold air of the room kissed my skin, causing a shiver to run through my body. but every goose bump on my skin melted away when i stared up at chris, who was pulling his own shirt above his head.

"you okay?" he questioned, leaning down again to caress my cheek softly.

"i promise everything's fine," i reassured with a shy smile, and chris smiled back, pressing a kiss to my lips before he pulled away.

he kissed against my neck softly, sending shivers through my body. his lips moved down to my shoulder, down to my collarbone and down the center of my chest.

i felt like he was exploring the entirety of my body.

"can we take this off, love?" he asked, gently tugging at the strap to my bra.

i nodded quickly as i sat up and reached behind me to unclasp it, but chris's hands came around mine as he did it for me.

i felt my face heat up as it dropped, and my arms instinctively moved up to cover myself.

"shhh," chris reached to my wrists and gently lowered my arms, his nose moving up to press against the shell of my ear. "you're gorgeous. no need to hide, not ever." he gently pressed a kiss to my jaw before working down again, his lips moving to press against the skin of my left breast.

my breath hitched slightly at the feeling as i instinctively moved a hand to his hair.

the moment his lips pressed to my nipple, i felt my eyes scrunch shut as i arched my back slightly into him. the feeling was so familiar yet so unfamiliar.

chris's tongue circled around it, his eyes shut as he ran his hand up my stomach to gently knead at my right side.

i let out a shaky moan, one hand burying into his brunette locks as the other dove into the sheets.

chris eventually switched to give the other side the same attention, and after a few moments, i shakily lifted my hips to meet his, which caused a groan to erupt from us both.

chris lifted his head and moved back up to press a soft kiss to my lips, his eyes locked on mine. he admired me for a moment before his hands met with the hem of my pajama pants. "may i?" he questioned softly, his voice groggy. i nodded quickly.

chris gently tugged my shorts down and let out a shaky breath, simply at the sight of the thin, deep red fabric that hugged my hips.

i smiled softly at him. "like what you see?" i joked, and chris simply shot me a knowing glance.

"always, angel." he stated softly before he shifted his body on the bed.

"wait- what are you-?"

"takin' care of my girl," chris stated softly, his eyes moving to meet mine as his face was now inches away from my core. "is this okay?"

i blushed darkly. i was no expecting all this. "yeah, yeah that's perfect," i breathed, shifting my hips against the sheets slightly.

chris moved to press soft kisses against the insides of my thighs, his eyes closed. one hand found its way to move my underwear to the side before both of his hands wrapped around my thighs to lock them in place.

my eyes squeezed shut and my entire body shuttered as he pressed his lips where i needed him most, his tongue gently gliding along my folds until they reached my clit, where he sucked softly. i tossed my head back and released a moan as a hand subconsciously moved to lace into chris's hair. "shit." i breathed.

chris's eyes met mine for only a second before he unlinked a hand from my thigh, pressing a finger against my folds.

i shuttered slightly before a gasp escaped me at the feeling of his finger entering me, my eyes squeezing shut.

"is this okay?" was all he said, his breath hot against my clit.

"fuck, yes," i moaned softly, my volume increasing as chris gently pressed a second finger inside my cunt and began curling them gently.

my back arched as i threw my head back, letting out a shaky breath before i bucked my hips to the best of my ability. my hand gently tugged at his hair as i guided his lips back to my clit.

chris seemed to get the hint, his tongue beginning to lap against me as he sucked on the bud, his fingers pumping and curling inside of me.

"shit, chris-" i gasped as i tugged at his hair softly.

chris removed his fingers and repositioned his body before his tongue entered my cunt, his thumbs prying me open as his nose occasionally grazed my clit.

i let out a string of moans, my hips lifting off the bed and into his face as i warned him of my release.

"i- i'm close, chris, fuck," i breathed.

with the continuous thrust of his tongue, chris moaned softly against me, sending a vibration against my core.

with a gasp and a tight grip on chris's hair, i clenched around his tongue and released my juices against his tongue, my eyes lidded as i panted softly.

chris helped me ride out my high, his hand gently caressing my thigh as he removed himself. he looked at me and licked his lips, a hand reaching to his shirt that he had previously removed. he used it to wipe off his mouth before he pulled away to begin sliding off his black sweats.

"you could have gotten a towel or something," i teased.

"that's too far." he defended, winking softly. "you still okay?" he questioned, gently tossing his sweats onto the floor.

i nodded quickly. "i promise, i-" i took a deep breath, my cheeks still pink from a few moments prior. "as long as i'm with you, anything is okay, chris."

chris simply smiled softly at me. "that's what i love to hear, angel." he whispered before he gently tugged his boxers down, his member meeting with his skin as a small dribble of precum escaped the tip.

your eyes locked on him, causing a chuckle to escape chris. "let's be polite, now," he whispered, moving his fingers to press against your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes and press his lips against yours lovingly. he pulled away and shifted between my legs, smiling softly. "you ready?" he asked softly, and i nodded eagerly.

"ready," i whispered, moving my hand to gently interlock with his.

chris used his free hand to gently part my legs and press his tip against my opening, making my breath hitch.

he slowly pressed into me, deep groans and moans sounding from both of us as chris's bangs hung over his eyes. "fuck," he grunted as he continued to move into me, before he bottomed out and stared at me.

with a few moments to adjust, i shot him a soft nod before he began to move slowly. "shit," he moaned softly, his grip tightening on my hand as he rocked his hips against mine.

our eyes locked, and i swear that did something to chris, because his entire face beamed red as he picked up his pace and pressed his forehead against mine.

a low moan escaped chris's throat as he thrusted into my cunt, my eyes rolling back as i allowed my jaw to hang open. a series of moans escaped us both.

chris gently unlocked our fingers to get a grip on my thigh to lift it. he held up my leg, now hitting a new spot inside of me that made my back arch off of his mattress. "oh fuck," i moaned, my eyes squeezing shut as he pounded against my gspot. "right there, chris," i moaned, causing chris to pick up his pace and slam his cock harder into me.

my eyes teared up slightly at the euphoric feeling, my heart racing as i felt my stomach tie into a knock. chanting his name, i gripped the sheets and clenched against him, resulting in a deep moan from chris's lips.

"fuck, angel, careful," he grunted against my ear, his breath heavy against my shoulder.

i gasped and let out a shaky moan, moving to grip chris's shoulder. "fuck, i'm gonna cum," i breathed, and chris nodded softly.

"me too, love, fuck," he moaned softly, his hips rutting into mine.

a few more thrusts resulted in my voice booming as i cried out, the knot in my stomach snapping as i released all over chris's cock, my eyes squeezing shut.

chris's hips sputtered at the pornographic moan, his throat releasing a deep moan as he pulled out and released against my stomach and chest, his hand moving to gently pump at his member.

chris moved to lay beside me, our eyes shut as he laid beside one another catching our breaths.

i let out a shaky sigh as i turned to chris and smiled weakly, sleepily.

chris turned and met my eyes, a sleepy smile on his face, but it was the same as every other smile he had given me today. "how do you feel?" he questioned, his hand moving to lock with mine again.

i chuckled breathlessly, nodding softly. "fuckin' awesome," i chuckled as i leaned forward to kiss his cheek gently.

chris smiled warmly at me before he reached to get a few tissues, wiping off my skin the best he could. "you did so good for me, angel." he whispered, moving a hand to brush a strand of hair out of my face. "fuck, i'm tired." he admitted.

i scoffed at him as i opened my arms. "me too, chris."

chris bit his lip as he shifted to rest his head against my chest, his eyes closing as he hugged my waist tightly. "i love you s'much." he whispered softly.

i smiled and bit my lip as i kissed the top of his head. one hand threaded through his hair as the other gently rubbed his side. "i love you so much, chris.. thank you for tonight." i whispered.

chris nodded lazily in response, and i chuckled lightly. "get your beauty sleep."

the two of us slowly fell asleep, skin to skin as we breathed together and slept soundly.

maybe i should spend the night at my boyfriend's more often.

taglist;; @sturnsxplr-25 @vampiree-555 @wh0resstuff @jetaimevous @sturnioloshacker @lovesturni0l0s @sarosfilms @sturnclouds @l34n

[archangeldyke-all]

imagine isha doing that thing that mute kids sometimes do, where they suddenly say a word/sentence or two out loud n then go back to being completely mute for a few years. imagine you’re tucking her in like “ily isha, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite” and she goes “ok. goodnight. mac & cheese.” and you never hear her talk again

also i love your writing 🩷🩷

this is so fucking funny god

men and minors dni

jinx has always claimed that isha speaks to her on occasion. you and sevika are always skeptical. a lot of isha's squeaks can sound like words-- and jinx tends to hear voices that aren't really there more than most people.

it takes a year of living together before one of you catches it in person.

sevika runs into the kitchen so fast she almost knocks over a chair. "babe, babe!" she says with a giddy smile. you giggle.

"what?"

"isha-- she just talked!" sevika laughs. "she doesn't know i heard her-- she was puttin' her socks on and her toe popped out of a hole, and she went; 'awe fuck!'" sevika imitates.

you burst into laughter. "are you sure?! you didn't just mishear one of her little grunts?"

"babe, i know what i heard. i read about this, y'know. sometimes, mute kids just randomly talk. and jinx said she's heard it before! i guess... i guess she really liked those socks!" sevika cackles. "you shoulda heard her little voice cursin' baby, oh my god!" sevika can't stop laughing.

for a long time, you don't quite believe her story. you're sure your wife thought she heard your kid curse, but you aren't convinced that isha can talk at all.

until she talks to you.

almost two years after sevika claims she hears isha talk, you're tucking her into bed like any other night. isha's pointing out various poisonous frog species to you in her favorite 'dangerous animals' book, and you're playing with her hair, kissing her head occasionally.

"if i was a poision dart frog, i think i'd be pink and purple. what about you?"

isha taps her chin while she considers your question, then signs with a smile. blue and yellow! you laugh. of course she'd pick her favorite colors.

"nice. what do you think jinx and big mama would be?"

jinxie is blue and purple and big mama is green!

"you've got it all figured out, huh?"

isha nods with a yawn. you chuckle.

"alright-- i think it's bedtime. c'mon, get comfy." isha hands her book to you and crawls under her covers. when she settles, she scrunches her face just a bit and lets out a fart. you giggle. "got your dutch oven going, huh?" you ask. she laughs.

"do frogs fart?" isha asks.

you freeze, staring at isha as she blinks up at you with big eyes, waiting for an answer. "wh-- did you--"

do they? she signs.

you burst into laughter and pull isha into your arms. "i have no idea!" you laugh. "oh my god!" isha giggles in your arms, confused by your reaction but enjoying the barrage of kisses you're giving her regardless. "i love you so much you silly little girl."

isha gets sick of your cuddles, elbowing you and signing. look it up on your phone! she whines. you cackle.

"okay, okay!" you laugh as you pull out your phone to google isha's question.

sevika and jinx are never going to believe this.

or... maybe they will.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb

[natalievoncatte]

“Today?” Kara said, “really?”

There was a silence in the house, as a pall had fallen over it. Everyone was gathered for the festivities and the turkey in the oven was filling the house with a delightful scent that made Lena’s mouth water. Thanksgiving was supposed to be the one day that Lena could forget about her waistline and just indulge herself. She’d been “helping” Eliza along with Alex and Kelly and Nia while the boys and Kara were out back tossing a football and pretending that she and J’onn didn’t have an outrageous advantage over Brainy and James.

Now Kara was standing in the living room as the news broke in over the football game and announced that a rampaging alien was tearing apart Rio de Janiero.

“Guys,” Kara said solemnly, “I have to go.”

Lena’s heart sank. She knew better than to protest. Kara had already glumly removed her glasses and was about to go grab her suit. Lena reached out and curled a hand around her bicep.

“Please be careful, darling.”

Lena could feel eyes on her back, Eliza and Alex and Nia all watching, silently urging one of them to just finally make a damned move. Lena *lived with her*, for God’s sake, and had since she sold her penthouse. They shared breakfasts and Kara gave her foot rubs and still they were stuck in this maddening limbo without defining what and who they were and it seemed neither dared to ask.

Lena knew what she wanted the answer to be, and how it ached inside her.

Kara glumly trudged down the stairs in full Supergirl regalia, regal and imposing as ever and just as beautiful. Since she’d revealed her identity to the world she’d been freed from the constraints of having to disguise herself, and a few months ago had buzzed the left side of her head, having trimmed the rest to shoulder length, and Lena longed to run her fingers over the fuzz.

She’d also altered her suit again. It no longer had sleeves. Every time Lena saw her, it felt like her soul was going to escape her body.

Kara came over and put her hands on Lena’s arms.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

Lena gulped down her anxiety.

“I can hear your heart, you know.”

“Just be careful. Please.”

Kara started to turn. Maybe it was the audience, maybe she was just tired of being mired in this thick tension between them. Maybe it was the wine. She grabbed Kara’s arm again and sprang forward to brush her lips against Kara’s cheek, dangerously close to Kara’s mouth.

“For luck.”

Kara’s eyes flew open wide and she gaped at Lena.

“I’ll be b-back,” she said, and swept out the door, cape billowing majestically.

God how Lena hated that cape, sometimes. It blocked the view.

What had been a festive gathering grew quiet. Everyone gathered around the television to see what was going on, save Eliza who politely excused herself to the kitchen, hiding tears that everyone politely ignored.

Lena joined her. She was making the gravy.

“A life of fighting isn’t what I wanted for her,” she said.

“Me either.”

They were alone in the kitchen and Eliza was whisking a roux as she waited for the raw flour smell to cook off.

“Lena, do you have feelings for my daughter?”

Lena swallowed hard, grabbing a knife to chop carrots for glazing so that she’d have something to occupy your hands.

Eliza’s voice was soft, something wistful in her eyes. “You must know how she feels about you.”

Lena had to stop to avoid slicing open her finger, almost feeling the touch of the blade. She cleared her throat.

“I do,” she admitted. “I very much do. If I’m going to be honest with myself, I’ve been in love with her for years.”

Eliza nodded, utterly unsurprised. “Kara is very hesitant about delicate things. When she first started living with us, she used to rip doorknobs off and break things at random while she learned to control her powers. She’s probably told you about Streaky.”

“She has.”

Eliza began pouring stock into the pot, her whisk making soft scraping sounds.

“She’s still that way about everything. Afraid if she pushes too hard, she’ll break something.”

Lena nodded. It was at that moment that Alex stormed into the kitchen. “She’s back.”

Immediately, Lena rushed out into the living room. Kara trudged through the door, and sighed.

“He got a few good hits in but he’s contained.”

Lena could only stare. Her suit was covered in scorch marks and even worse, Kara was bruised, her knuckles especially battered. She smiled weakly.

“I just need a minute to clean up.”

With a deep sigh, Kara turned and headed upstairs.

Lena could feel the eyes on her before she glanced back. Eliza motioned a silent “Go”, and Lena went.

She knocked at the bathroom door.

“Lena?” said Kara.

She always knew. Super-senses.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

Brief hesitation, then, “yes.”

Lena stepped inside and closed the door. Kara was washing her hands, the injuries already vanishing. Lena didn’t care. She took Kara’s hands anyway, gently washing them under warm water.

She then fumbled at the clasps and unhooked Kara’s cape, and folded it. It was surprisingly heavy, made of a dense material from her long lost home. Setting it aside, she rested her hand against Kara’s deliciously broad back, silently waiting for permission.

“Go ahead,” Kara said in a shaky voice.

Lena freed the tab of the hidden zipper and pulled, baring Kara’s expansive muscular back, and peeled the suit away from her shoulders. Kara had nothing but a sports bra and boxer briefs on beneath. She finished shimmying out of the suit on her own.

Lena has seen Kara in bathing suits, or caught flashes of her changing, but this was different, somehow more intimate. There was a vulnerability, not just in the woman disrobing but in the goddess showing Lena her bruises. Lena gently touched a black and purple mark on Kara’s flank.

“This one hurt, didn’t it.”

“It always hurts. I can feel it, I just pretend I don’t.”

Lena looked up at her and met her gaze.

“Kara, may I kiss you?”

Kara blinked and Lena could actually feel her tremble.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Lena rose on her tiptoes and pressed their lips together very softly, with a deliberate slowness. When Kara kissed her back and pulled her into a delicate embrace, hands bracketed low on her hips, Lena felt like she could fly.

Kara was looking at her in wonder.

“Was that for more luck?”

Lena felt bold. She had seize the moment now, before she lost her nerve and they fell back into tense limbo.

“Kara Danvers, if you want to, you can get very lucky tonight.”

Her eyes were wide and Lena grinned.

“I umm, I…”

Lena trailed a finger down the center of Kara’s muscular chest.

“Dinner is almost ready, darling. Take your shower. Just remember to save room for dessert.”

Kara favored her with a delighted smile as Lena stepped out of the bathroom and padded down the stairs.

When she reached the ground floor, everyone was pointedly focused elsewhere, either on the football game or cooking, and Kelly and Nia were playing cards at the dining room table.

Alexa, though, handed her a beer. Lena took it with a shaking hand.

“Fucking finally,” Alex whispered. “Just don’t get too loud tonight, okay? Go down to the beach if you can’t control yourself.”

Lena’s eyes narrowed.

“I hate you.”

“Love ya too, sis-in-law,” said Alex.

“We’re not married yet.”

Alex tipped back her brew. “Six months, tops.”

Lena took a long pull on her beer and scowled.

(It ended up being four months)

[headkiss]

I LOVE the idea of protective Hotch constantly having an eye out for younger bau!agent who’s literally sunshine personified and the complete opposite of him!! Do u think u could write something along the lines of that—maybe him protecting her from something or just their dynamic?

i also love protective hotch!!! tysm for the request i hope u like it baby :D | 1k of fluff, tw for a small burn!

You’d been surprised when you got a job at the BAU. You didn’t have that much faith in yourself at first. Not to say you don’t believe in your skills, but it’s a widely known part of the bureau. A lot of people wanted the job.

And then, there’s Agent Hotchner, unit chief and intimidating though you’re sure he doesn’t mean to be. You were insanely nervous at the beginning.

That was before you started, before the team welcomed you as the new media liaison after Agent Jareau became a profiler. You met Garcia and her collection of fun high heels, Reid and his never ending supply of facts, and you sort of fit right in.

Hotch became much less intimidating. A kind man who cares so deeply for his team that you couldn’t help but like him the way you do. Not to mention the dynamic that built between the two of you.

The small things he does for you that are impossible to ignore. A hand covering the edge of your desk to protect your head when you were searching underneath it for a dropped paper clip, the way he physically places himself between you and danger if he ever gets the chance.

He’s always there, protecting you in ways both big and little, and you enjoy it more than you should.

It’s even brighter on nights like tonight. Drinks and snacks at Penelope’s after a tough case. Nights when you get to call him Aaron instead of Hotch, when he smiles and laughs freely without restraint.

The beep of the oven cuts off yours and Garcia’s conversation, and when she shifts to take care of it, you stop her, “I got it! You’re already hosting, just relax a little.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, squeezing your arm as you walk by.

The smell of food in the oven hits your nose as you walk into the kitchen, humming along to whatever song spills through the speakers.

You pull the oven open, reaching in without thinking and touching the pan with your bare hand. You drop it quickly, metal clanking as it falls back onto the rack in the oven.

“Shit!” You say it loudly, and then, even louder, addressing the team in the next room, “I’m okay!”

They all laugh a little at your reassurance, and then, like they know he wouldn’t let anyone else check on you before him, pretty much every set of eyes in the room lands on Hotch.

He shakes his head and heads to the kitchen, because he would’ve gone either way.

“You okay?” He asks, finding you with an oven mitt on your non-burnt hand, reaching into the oven, and your burnt hand shaking by your side.

“Oh!” You set the pan of nachos on top of the stove and slip off the mitt, turning off the oven and looking at Hotch. “I forgot oven mitts were a thing for a second there. Burnt my hand, I think.”

He’s on you in a second, his hands gently grasping your injured arm, pushing back your sleeve and guiding you over to the sink. His hold is light, never bruising even though you know he has the strength to do so.

It’s the kiss of sunlight on skin.

Aaron turns on the sink, places his fingers under the water to make sure the temperature’s okay before guiding your hand under the stream.

“You still took out the nachos first?” He asks, even when he knows that’s what you’d do, because of course you’re worrying about everyone else before yourself.

“I didn’t want them to burn.”

You’re trying to be brave, though your hand hurts so much there are tears misting your eyes. You’re bouncing on your feet a little to try and deal with the pain.

“How bad does it hurt?” Hotch checks.

Aaron’s felt this sort of protectiveness over you ever since you started. A little younger than him, this ball of light that’s come bursting into his life. You’re always the positive one, even in the darkest situations and he can’t help but want to shield you to keep it that way.

There’s this thing in his chest that tugs and tugs when you’re around, that makes him stand next to you in any room, in front of you in darkness.

“It’s okay,” you say, though your voice cracks a little. “I’m sure you’ve seen much worse, Hotch.”

“Aaron,” he reminds you gently, “and you don’t have to pretend. It’s alright if it hurts, I just wanna help.”

The sink running mingles with the music coming from the next room, the background noise to your moment with him.

“You could bring the nachos out? I told Garcia I would, but we see how that turned out.”

“Okay, I'll bring them out.”

“Don’t forget oven mitts!”

He huffs with a smile, somehow always surprised with how easily you can turn something around. A smile on your face even with tears shining in your eyes and a hand that’s surely stinging.

Aaron carries the tray of nachos and drops them off, then turns to Penelope, “you have a first aid kit?”

“Oh my gosh! Yeah, bathroom cabinet, I can grab it.”

“It’s alright, Garcia. I’ll get it.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Don’t worry. Nothing major, I’m taking care of it.”

He grabs the first aid kit and heads back to the kitchen where you’re still holding your hand under the stream of water.

“Okay,” Aaron sets the kit down on the counter, opening it and then turning off the tap. “Let me see, honey.”

The word melts into you, sticky sweet, and you hold your hand towards him, palm up.

He starts by drying your hand with a piece of paper towel, pressing your skin lightly. His other hand is under yours, his palm against the back of your hand a painkiller in itself.

You hiss when he hits a sensitive spot, and he’s quick to apologize, his voice low and quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Almost done.”

“It’s okay, Aaron. It's not your fault I thought I was heat-proof.”

“You’re cute.”

A smile spreads over your face, your head tilted down to stare and his hands around yours. You watch him spread some Polysporin over your burn, his fingertips featherlight over your skin, soft apologies leaving him every time you flinch a little.

By the time he’s done, the first aid kit shut on the counter, you’ve both forgotten about the rest of the team in the next room. Aaron’s happy to bask in your sunshine.

[choccy-milky]

finally drew clora and seb's kids!!🙌🙌

Celeste Sallow: OK THIS IS THE NAME IM SUPER PROUD OF BAHAHA because not only does the name celeste relate to the stars (in typical ravenclaw fashion...clora picked the name) but celeste sallow is also an alliteration. BUT, its an alliteration that begins with a C, which means clora gets to match with celeste in the form of both of their names starting with a C, whereas sebastian gets to match with celeste because both of their names are an alliteration/they're alliteration allies🥹ITS THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS!🥳

Lewis Sallow: as for lewis, if you've read my fic then you know that seb has a vendetta against names that start with an L bahaha, but 'lewis' was actually HIS idea. when celeste was born, seb wanted to find a muggle story to read to her, since clora's favourite story is ALSO a muggle one (sherlock), and he wanted to stick with tradition. so he ended up finding alice in wonderland, which he loved because of how adventurous and clever alice was and of how much she reminded him of clora and celeste (both personality and looks wise). it became his favourite for those reasons, to the point that when they had lewis, sebastian overcame his L-name hatred by naming their son after lewis carroll.

Houses: celeste could have been sorted into either gryffindor or slytherin, but ultimately ends up in slytherin because she wants to be like seb. kinda like how clora also probably could have been in gryffindor, tbh. as for lewis.....him being 10000% in ravenclaw doesnt need any explanation BAHA, just look at him.

Appearance: since clora has a tiny bit of veela blood in her, thats obvs passed down to their kids, too, and so they mostly take after her as a result of it. but there's still little bits of seb that shine through in each of the kids: for lewis its his brown curly hair, and for celeste its her complexion/freckles. and the fact that celeste looks so similar to clora only doubles up sebastian's stress/protective instincts when he watches her BAHAH. he's ofc still proud that she takes after him so closely, but seb also cant deny that he wishes it had been their SON that had taken after him instead, to keep her out of danger.

Celeste & Lewis: for celeste and lewis’ relationship, celeste is a super proud big sister, and treats lewis kinda like how seb treats clora. if there's anything that needs to be done, she offers to do it for him. and although she doesn’t have the patience to read stories herself, she loves playing outside and having lewis read to her in the background, and loves to act out/use his stories to fuel her imagination. and lewis makes sure to pick stories that he KNOWS she’ll like (which mostly involve heroic and daring feats of adventurers or pirates. he's tried to read more classic fairytales and romances to her a few times, but celeste always gets bored). she loves to draw though, so sometimes when lewis reads books that have no pictures, she'll draw them herself.

Celeste & Seb/Clora: celeste is a daddy's girl LOL and always tries to impress seb with the stuff she does, especially after hearing how HE was at her age, and so its half to impress and half because shes competitive that she wants to do the same/be just as good. and seb always gets a kick out of hearing her feats in the crossed wands club, or in defense against the dark arts class, and he also goads her on, telling her she'll have to do better than that if she wants to be as good as HE was. and whenever celeste gets detention, clora always stresses and asks why, whereas seb just tries to keep the smirk off his face. as for celeste and clora, clora also reads to celeste, and bakes and cooks with her, which is something celeste actually likes doing. not only because it keeps her busy and she likes to help and get messy in general, but also because she likes the fact that it results in good food afterwards LOL, and constantly asks when things can be taken out of the oven. also, for as tomboy-y as celeste is, she honestly doesn't mind/likes the clothing that clora puts her in and likes when clora dresses her up, bc it makes her look like one of the princesses from the storybooks, and it just amuses her more than anything else. once she enters hogwarts, though, its mostly trousers. but she still DOES like the occasional girly clothing.

Lewis & Seb/Clora: lewis is a momma's boy LOL and unlike celeste, doesnt care about duelling or of proving himself or anything like that, and is only concerned with stories and his future studies. so ofc clora had to show him sherlock, which he naturally loved. it even inspired lewis to want to write his own stories, so that he could challenge his own skill and see if he could, but also because he wants his mom to read them, and likes the idea of writing his own sherlock-esque story with equations and mysteries to be solved that he can offer her. lewis also wants to write a book for celeste as well, bc although he wont admit it, he basically wants to write a story tailor-made for her and her interests. one that he thinks will have everything she’d love in it. and part of it is genuinely because he WANTS to do it for her, but the other part of it is also for his ego, and to see if he CAN write a compelling story, and write something that would actually get THE hyperactive celeste to sit down and read it in its entirety (not to mention of her own volition). as for with seb, lewis looks up to him more than anyone else, due to how well-rounded he is and how hes so good at practical stuff AND studying, and he kinda sees seb as a main character/protagonist from one of his books, and uses sebastian as inspiration for his own stories. if hes stuck on what he thinks the dashing main character should do next, he'll ask his dad what HE would do, which results in seb getting very weird questions that he nonetheless is always happy to answer. also, when lewis is older and finally learns the full story of what happened with clora and seb and ranrok and rookwood, he writes their story in novel form, except he just changes their names/some of the details, and it becomes a best seller LOL. and i didnt know where to put this, but the four of them all read a story before bed every night, with lewis in the middle and seb and clora on either side of him. though celeste stands at the foot of the bed, basically doing a charade/mime show of what theyre reading, and putting on a little play to go along with it BAHHA.

OK thats all i can think of for now ive yapped enough😩 if youve read all of this ur a real one.... ive also considered giving them a 3rd (and last) child, which would be a boy that looks exactly like seb, and seb would just be praying like please.....let this son take after me🧎‍♂️🙏 BAHHA

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [2]

・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!

That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.

Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.

“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”

You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"

Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"

You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."

"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."

Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it. 

You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."

Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."

You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."

Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.

At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked. 

“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.

You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.

Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.

As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat. 

“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.

“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”

You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned? 

As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea. 

Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive? 

Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.

Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers. 

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.

“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?” 

Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head. 

He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval. 

You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.

His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness. 

It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?

You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”

The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets. 

“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.” 

He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.

A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation. 

Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze. 

“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”

The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.

“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”

Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.

“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.

You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts. 

As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display. 

Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.

You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.

It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men. 

“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?” 

The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”

The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.

“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.

“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”

“Do they have a background in fashion?” 

“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.” 

The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet. 

“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”

The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.

“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.” 

What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-

“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.

Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel? 

“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.

“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.” 

That couldn’t be true, could it?

Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.

“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.” 

The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”

You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.

“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.” 

Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip. 

“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.” 

He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”

As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.

“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”

You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for. 

He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door. 

“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view. 

Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.

You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin. 

Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name. 

You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.

What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.

Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection. 

You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.

Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him. 

Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.

“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.

You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.

“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”

“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”

It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.

That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building. 

“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later. 

“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?” 

You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time? 

“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”

Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.

“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person. 

“You are?” He asked incredulously.

“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.” 

Hopefully, he would buy your lie.

Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.

You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.

The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.

Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music. 

“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!” 

Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?

“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway. 

Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.

He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.

“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”

He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty. 

“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear. 

Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.

“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon. 

Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”

You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?

You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.

“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”

His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside. 

Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.

“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you. 

As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath. 

He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.

“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.” 

Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.

Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve. 

“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?” 

Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.

Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.

“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?

“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.

He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him. 

“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room. 

Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day. 

You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.

Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing 

“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.

“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”

He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.

You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.

Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color. 

While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room. 

He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull. 

As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.

“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table. 

You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.

“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.

“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table, 

‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’

“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.” 

Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.

Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll. 

“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”

“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?” 

You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table. 

With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.

“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.

“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.” 

“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.” 

As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay. 

“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve. 

“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”

Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work. 

Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.

Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.

“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.

“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”

You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric. 

“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?” 

You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.

The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.

“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.

‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet. 

Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking? 

“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.

The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished. 

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace. 

You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”

Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it. 

“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.

You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry? 

“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”

“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.” 

A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring? 

“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”

You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.

“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.” 

Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly. 

The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.

It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.

“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!” 

Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.

What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.

Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you. 

“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.” 

“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.

Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”

Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.

“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”

‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.

Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.

“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.

You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.” 

“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”

You shook your head, “no, not really.”

“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”

Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain. 

The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.

“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”

“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.

Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you. 

He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.

“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.

You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.

Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.

The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.

You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.

For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.

You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.

It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.

Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.

You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form. 

“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.

Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.

“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.” 

“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him. 

“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”

You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.

“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.

You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.

This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.

“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.

Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.

“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”

His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.

“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.

He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.

It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.

Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened. 

The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch. 

You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.

It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.

The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.

The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.

Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.

The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.

“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!” 

Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?

Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.

It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter. 

Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures. 

There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him. 

There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.

It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle. 

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.

“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion. 

Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.

“Um, hi..?” 

I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha

and.. hold up yall…

for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!

Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)

HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3

have a great day, my swans! 🦢

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taglist:

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites