#the world has been opened up and i can eat red bell peppers now
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they were right, vegetables really can dipping them in salad dressing makes them taste better
#i didn't like ranch as a kid so i never ate those raw veggies dipped in ranch#but I've liked balsamic for years and it genuinely never occurred to me to try raw veggies with other dressings#the world has been opened up and i can eat red bell peppers now
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MA'AM may I please request MC getting a new lipstick and goes around kissing the brothers (or just Mammon if all 7 is too much) and leaving lipstick marks on them and the brother's walk around with the lip marks without noticing????? 🥺🥺🥺🥺 Thank youuuu
Hi Anon!! Thank you so much for requesting this.
I did them all separately I hope this is ok
I am always open to asks or like if you have questions about me or how I write or me> I just love getting asks
The Obey Me brothers not noticing your lipstick on them
Lucifer
You had recently bought a new lipstick and wanted to wear it to RAD one morning.
At the act of wearing your new lipstick, it had come to his attention
Was it him or were your lips just looking absolutely amazing today
Did this lipstick have a spell on it because he wanted to kiss your lips pretty bad right now
During the day at RAD he couldn’t contain himself and he pulled you aside and starting kissing you
Your plush lips peppered his face
You kissed his lips and cheeks, before heading to class
However you having to leave quickly and Lucifer not noticing. He had a whole face of lipstick marks
Walking around RAD felt strange as he was getting some stares from lower level demons
He didn’t really think about it till he met up diavolo
Diavolo chuckled and said “you and MC must have been busy.”
Lucifer gave a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“Have you looked in the mirror lately.” Diavolo now finding this hilarious and snapping a photo of Lucifer
Lucifer now rushing to a mirror, his face turning red of embarrassment
His face and especially his lips were covered with bright lipstick marks
For once in your life you’ll probably see Lucifer pass away but at the same time rise from Pride
I mean after getting over the lipsticks marks, he basically just showed everyone he is an active relationship that sure as hell is doing good
He’ll feel better about himself and make sure to show off your marks next time
However as gift back to you he’ll shower your neck with some hickeys to show the other demons you belong to someone
Mammon
Okay so this man definitely just lives for your kisses
Like if he could sell his soul for your kisses he would
Now this man is shy so I think he’ll just steal you while your just walking by a classroom
Like you’ll be walking and all of a sudden someone is grabbing your waist and you are being dragged into an empty classroom
In such classroom is your lovely boyfriend Mammon having a pouty face
He’ll be standing there like 👉👈🥺
Totally expecting to just know what he wants
He’ll start to tug at your sleeves and whispers so faintly “I missed ya kisses”
Okay so if you wanted to tease him you’ll be like “Sorry, what was that Mammon? I didn’t quite get it” with a cocky grin plastered on your face
And then all of a sudden he just blurts out “Gah humans! Are ya going deaf. I want kisses alright. Are ya satisfied?”
Now being satisfied with yourself you whisper “yes” quietly into his ear and you will than start kissing his cheek and make your way to the corner of his mouth
He’ll be a blushing mess saying he doesn’t like it but the redness on his ears say otherwise
Now you had totally forgotten that you were wearing a new lipstick and forgot to mention to Mammon that he should wipe his face before leaving
However the bell had rang already and you were going your separate ways assuming Mammon would look into a mirror before class
WRONG!!
This man did his whole class with your lipsticks marks over his face
Now he was getting stares but he just assumed The Great Mammon was finally getting noticed
IT wasn’t until after class that Levi said “Ugh you normies and making out. Wow Mammon looks like you finally got some action”
He should talk
This confused Mammon. There was something on his face?
He went to the mirror and...
BAM!!
He almost had to catch himself from embarrassment
Now he didn’t want to show his vulnerability so he used this to his advantage and was like “Yeah MC are making out. You got a problem with that”
Now just showing off he was in a relationship he was more than happy to boast
After he’ll ask if you can do that again because puppy just loves attention
Levi
Okay so we already know Levi does a lot of online schooling
On the rare occasions he does go into school to write a test he was particularly nervous
You being the amazing S/O you are just shower him with kisses
I mean I think you just killed him
He’s just standing there like 🧍🏼
It will take a moment and than he’ll be like “OH MY GOSH!!”
And this startles you so you’re like “What’s wrong? Did you not like?”
His neck and ears are just fully red and he’s like no I saw a couple do this at RAD one day. Is this how normies feel?”
After realising you kissed him he’s quiet now and he’s silently hinting he wants some more kisses
And again since you are so amazing you’ll be like of course bb
Now smothering him with kisses and forgetting that you are wearing a new lipstick
He just walks into the classroom feeling confident without the knowledge that he has lipstick all over his face
Now he’s getting stares in class but he just knocks it up as he doesn’t go into class often his classmates are just wondering why he’s here
It isn’t until he gets home and starts streaming with his camera on that someone points out that he has lipstick all over his face
He just faints and the comment section blows up saying their boi Levi finally getting some action
He ends the live right there from embarrassment
It isn’t until you get home and see him and you’re like “What’s wrong?”
Now thinking back on the memory gets to embarrassed to talk about it he just says “I like your new lipstick”
“Oh thanks for noticing” you cheerily reply
He over all loves your kisses to he’d rather have your kisses than be getting none of your kisses
Satan
Okay so another cocky mf who loves you and your lips
He’ll probably be reading in the library at school
You’ll show up for your daily chat
You and Satan often meet up in the library for private time to chat quietly
You would meet in the library at the House of Lamentation, but you’re always bound to be interrupted by one of the brothers
So you say your greetings and you’ll kiss Satan on the cheek and you saw the lipstick mark
Now thinking he looked cute you didn’t bother to tell him about it
You guys start to study soon after your catch up and Satan notices you keep staring at his lips and cheek
A sly grin makes it way on his face and he’s like “MC do I have something on my face?”
And not wanting to tell him about the lipstick mark your like “N-no”
This mf just beckons you over to his lap and you sit down
Now staring at each other you start smiling
Man just initiates takeout session
IN THE LIBRARY!!
I want to make out with Satan in a library
Mid make out you get a call from Mammon to hurry over he needs your help
Satan has an annoyed expression on his face
You tell him you’ll continue this when you see him at home
If you know what I mean
You had forgotten to tell Satan he had lipstick marks on his face so it wasn’t until he goes to check out some books that the lady at the desk goes “Ooh Satan! I guess you must've been busy reading someone’s lips”
Satan blushing wondering if the librarian had seen you two
He decided to go to the washroom before he left and he noticed all the marks on him
He was a blushing mess
He was definitely going to give you twice as many marks and litter your neck
Asmo
Okay so he probably was the one he got you this new lipstick
And when your trying it on he’s like out it looks so good, you should wear it at RAD tomorrow
Little did you know he just wanted to make out with you at school tomorrow
So you’re at school and Asmo kinda just shows up and he’s ask “Do you want to go for a walk with me on the field”
And you love spending time with your boyfriend
So your walking on the field and he has his hand on your lower back
He is guiding you to the back of the field
When you get to the back he turns to you and lifts your chin
He goes “I see you are wearing the new lipstick”
You smile and nod hoping he would have noticed
It’s Asmo I pretty sure he can read you easily when it comes to looks and attention
So he just holding your chin up and he slowly leans into kissing you
At this act, if you don’t object or show any signs of discomfort he literally picks you up and lays you on the ground to be more comfortable
Damn his clothes when i comes to your lips
As soon as you hear the bell for you next class, Asmo leans away and you’re red in the face
You notice the lipstick marks and your about to say something about it and apologise because he usually doesn’t like messing up his look
He shushes you and says “I like it when you mark me up”
So he just walks around RAD for the rest of the day with your lipstick marks on him
Boy does he make Mammon jealous when he shows Mammon all your lipstick marks
Beel
Alright so this man is always hungry
And what does he do when he can’t have food
He satisfies his hunger with your kisses
Okay so you and Beel we’re studying and he starts to get hungry and you here his stomach grumble
A literal earthquake might I add
And Beel’s like “baby I’m so hungry”
Of course you don’t like to see your big bear boyfriend upset
However he finished the whole fridge yesterday and Lucifer told him if he touched anything in the fridge until dinner he wouldn’t eat dinner
This man is the cause of world hunger
But he’s your cause of world hunger
So when he gets to hungry to continue studying you ask “is there anyway I can help”
Beel thinks for a minute and he says “your kisses always distract me when I’m nervous. Maybe they’ll do the same.”
So he literally just picks you up like your a feather puts you on his lap
He start to kiss up his neck and than the corners of his mouth
And make your way to his eyelids and you lightly kiss them
At this rate your going to drive Beel mad for your kisses
So he just kinda pushes himself onto your lips and he kisses them till their so puffy
Beel sometimes forget humans need much more air than demons so we he pulls away he sees you are out breath
This reminds you still have work so he puts you down and says “I’ll see you later baby. You helped a lot thanks”
You didn’t have a chance to properly look at his face when he leaves so none of you noticed the amount of lipstick marks on his face
He goes to hang out with Belphie and he’s like “Did you eat MC’s lipstick or something?”
Beel goes to look in the mirror and see’s are your lipstick marks
Now the hunger had subsided and he feels every spot that has been touched
He loves your kisses
Belphie
Okay so you and Belphie often nap a lot
So one day you guys come together from RAD and are absolutely exhausted
At this feeling Belphie suggests you two take a nap in the attic
After you guys lay down on the huge pile of pillows and blankets
Belphie is already knocked out when you turn to look at him
You think he looks so cute when he sleeps
You couldn’t help yourself and kisses his forehead
Quietly snuggling into his embrace you fall asleep
It wasn’t until Belphie had woken up he saw your sleeping figure beside and kissed your cheek
He still had some homework to finish so he thought he would wake you up when he’s done
When he goes downstairs to get hi stuff Mammon goes “Woah that’s some mark you got there”
Belphie now has a confused look and is like “What do you mean?”
“Go look in the mirror”
Belphie heads over to the washroom and sees your lipstick mark flat on his forehead
He gets embarrassed and think its must’ve been when he fell asleep
It calms his heart to when thinking about your act of affection
And he was heading right back up to show you how much he loves you
I hope ya’ll liked it
I literally wrote Levi’s four times because it wasn’t saving
#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me lucifer x mc#obey me x y/n#obey me lucifer x you#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon x mc#obey mammon#obey me mammon x reader#obey me levi x mc#obey me leviathan#obey me satan x mc#obey me satan x reader#obey me satan#obey me shall we date#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmo x reader#obey me asmo x mc#obey me beel x mc#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphie#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie x mc#fluff#pure fluff
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Miya Osamu || Little Delights | First Meeting
SUMMARY. Osamu can't help but be intrigued when his daughter starts bringing home delicious desserts prepared by her best friend's mother.
PAIRING. You x Miya Osamu
GENRE. Fluff <3
WARNINGS. Suggestive content
Haikyuu! Anthology Series | It's Fate When Your Kids Are Friends
OSAMU | First Meeting > Second Date > Third Time's The Charm > Four Is Our Family
Osamu's made it just in time, right as the bell tolls to signal the end of his daughter's second day in her new school year. Standing back as a swarm of kids rush out of the brick building and into the arms of their waiting parents, he takes a moment to breathe and relax. Juggling his burgeoning restaurant with being a single parent isn't an easy job, but he wouldn't trade it for anything.
He stands taller than many of the other adults around him and it's evident his little girl has no problem seeking him out as a black, red, and grey blur races towards him, a thrilled, "Papa!" reaching his ears and splitting his mouth into a wide, happy grin.
His arms are already open in a silent but enthusiastic response as he crouches down and then the bite-sized impact of his daughter is rocking him back on his heels, his reaction overly exaggerated as he pretends to almost fall over from the small force of nature that's all Miya Izumi.
Standing back up, Samu catches sight of another little girl who was trailing behind, wide eyes studying him before shifting to Zumi, his daughter turning back around to wave at her, proclaiming the girl as her 'bestest friend in the whole wide world'. The girl returns Zumi's enthusiastic wave with a quick raise of her small hand before her attention is caught by a pretty young woman, her own wide smile replacing her previously hesitant expression as she's warmly enveloped into welcoming arms with kisses peppered on her cheeks and forehead.
Her delighted giggles reach Osamu and his daughter as they turn around, hand in hand, to walk back to his car, small interaction soon forgotten as his little munchkin lists off the snacks she's looking forward to having on their return to his shop. She won't be able to finish half that list, he bets to himself with a quiet chuckle at his daughter's inherited exuberance for food as he securely buckles her into car.
It's not until they reach his second pride and joy, Onigiri Miya, that he finds the first little surprise tucked away in Izumi's not so empty lunchbox. When he inquires about the remarkably delicious looking set of biscuits he certainly didn't pack for her that morning, his daughter's response is that it's a thank you gift from her bestest friend, Reina, for the lunch she'd shared with the girl on her first day.
Well, a six year old certainly didn't bake these from the looks of it. It's only confirmed by his first taste, the texture and flavour beyond even most consistent home bakers, let alone a young child. Right? But a more pressing thought flags his attention, first.
"Did your friend not have her own lunch?"
"She did! We split because hers wasn't so good, even though her mama put so much love into it. But the treats were so much better so we decided to go halfsies and have best of both!" His daughter giggles with the oblivious sweet innocence of a child.
"And what about today?"
"Mhm. Same. But I liked the chocolate brownies yesterday much much better!"
Samu chuckles at her excitement and can't help but tease his precocious daughter, "Oh, and was it better than papa's food?"
Zumi's eyes widen as she contemplates the question with all the adorable seriousness she can muster, but loyalty must break free and run because her reply is, "Almost! So close, but I love papa's cooking more than anything in the whole wide world."
It seems the whole wide world is the current standard of measurement for first graders, but he appreciates the heartfelt sentiment behind her loving words.
After another moment of consideration, Osamu settles on the thought chewing at him and decides that tomorrow his daughter won't be giving up a portion of his food which she loves so much. No, she'll have double the amount to do with whatever she may please.
So briefly, that he doesn't even ponder on the sudden image, he's reminded of the warm reunion he witnessed between the little girl and the woman who he'd assumed was her nanny, but concludes is probably the girl's young mother. Based on the number of treats Zumi brought back, Samu's certain the woman had to have thoughtfully made extras of these baked goods for her daughter to have more than enough to share with friends and then some.
Well, it's definitely no skin off his back to make his daughter even the slightest bit happier by being able to help her share her savoury little delights with her new bestest friend.
It's on the third day of your daughter's return from her new school year that you're able to confirm that something is indeed amiss. The previous two days, the small portions of her lunch left uneaten were questionable, given her voracious appetite, however, when she returns with the lunch you made for her today still sitting wholly untouched in her cute little lunchbox, you finally sit her down to ask about it.
Her response is far from what you expected, "My friend's papa made extra lunch so we could both have something yummy to eat!"
You press your lips together to hide your amusement as you teasingly inquire, "Oh? Is that so? And I guess that means mama's food isn't so yummy after all."
Her eyes widen in dismay and mouth opens in an immediate denial that you know would be a lie to soothe your feelings. Even at such a young age, your beautiful baby girl is truly a kind and compassionate soul, she would dutifully eat anything you prepared no matter how lacking the meal might be and never utter a word to tell you the obvious truth.
Before she can manage to find the right words to faithfully express how much she loves your cooking, you lean in to kiss her on the forehead and pull back with a laugh, gathering her in your arms for a warm hug. "Oh baby, I'm so sorry I can't make you the food you deserve. But please don't ever feel the need to say otherwise to spare my feeling, okay? You should always be honest about what you like or don't like."
Her little arms find their way around you as she snuggles in, voice soft and words like a wise, old soul when she denies, "But your food is made with so much love mama. Zumi says some people are just better at other things. We both think you make the best yummies."
"The best yummies, hm?" You think about the various baked goods you add in to balance out for the healthy but tasteless lunches you're able to prepare.
They are indeed good, but baking has always been something that comes more naturally to you than cooking. An interesting distinction not many people might accept, but for you the former has always been an effortless science whereas the latter is more of a difficult art.
"Well I'm really glad you like those, but we do need to figure out what to do so you're not picking at your friends' food or going hungry."
She pulls back to send a serious look your way, exclaiming, "But I'm not picking at it, I promise. Zumi said her papa made extra just for me!"
You take a moment to consider her words. She made a similar implication in her earlier statement, that her friend's dad had made extra for them both. What does that mean? Did his daughter ask him to because she was sharing her food with Reina? Or did he somehow grasp the situation and is simply being generous?
A warm burn threatens your cheeks as you consider the awkwardness of accepting such a gesture from a complete stranger. While you appreciate the kindness of Reina's friend and her dad, it still somehow feels like a terrible imposition, as if you've burdened them somehow with your lack of skills to keep your child happily fed.
It's not like you can't cook good, healthy food. You're just painfully aware how bland the food you make can be, unless you spend three times the amount of time as anyone else would need to in order to prepare similar meals. But... studying the smile that's on your daughter's face, you can't help the twinge in your heart that reminds you how much more her happiness is worth than your pride.
You won't assume this will be a daily occurrence and you'll continue to make your daughters lunches so she never goes without, however, it'll be no extra trouble for you to make double the batch of baked goods than usual. After all, you usually account for the fact that she'll be sharing with friends and classmates anyways.
However, you're now determined there will be enough delicious snacks for Reina to share not only around at school, but also some treats for her sweet friend Izumi to take home for her generous parents. Perhaps, you think, it might be prudent to include a short message, thanking the man for his thoughtful effort.
Silent gratitude isn't very much to anyone ~ (So I hope you and your family will accept these.) Thank you for your kindness, Miya-san.
Osamu blinks, unaware of the small smile that curves his lips as he reads the delicate, handwritten note carefully wrapped around one of the cupcakes Izumi brought back home today. There are only three of the original twelve left, apparently, but the one he's just bitten into is as incredible as expected.
If he's correct in his assumption from the note addressed directly to him and included with today's delightful treats, then the little girl's mother has picked up on his small action and is returning the gesture to convey her thanks. The thought is confirmed by his daughter explaining that one of each of the three cupcakes is for their family.
Three for their family? Hm. Well, it's just him and Zumi, but he's sure his brother will be all over the remaining offering when he visits tonight. If there's any left for him that is. Probably won't be, it's really just that good and anyways, he doesn't need Atsumu nosing his way into this simple exchange as it is.
The following day, Friday morning, Samu pens back his own note, assuring the woman that no thanks is necessary. There's no reason for her to express her gratitude over what's really such a simple action for him.
That evening, he and Zumi enjoy some quality mochi delivered in a white, rectangular box with a pretty decently hand-drawn background scene at a spring festival on the cover. Two little girls, one that looks remarkably like his daughter and the other like her best friend, hold hands in the centre of the street dressed in traditional yukata and sharing a box of what he assumes is mochi.
As they much into the chewy treats, he watches and listens as his daughter points out the bright colours she and her friend chose to fill into what was apparently initially a blank canvas for them to colour on. Her delight at having a pink and grey yukata, even if only in a drawing, prompting him to make a mental note about looking into the clothing and any upcoming festivals.
Osamu makes a point of saving the box, childlike scribbles over the simple sketch leaving a warm feeling in his chest and a slightly wider smile gracing his mouth.
The response he receives the Monday evening (from his penned message the Friday before) is enough to prompt a full smirk that, this time, doesn't go unnoticed by him. The woman showed an interesting sense of humour and gracious acceptance with the first cupcake note. Then, a sweet and thoughtful disposition with the drawing included as part of the soft treat for the girls Friday.
But now, Samu sees a challenging firmness in her reply to his easy brush off of her thanks, delicate lines yet again adorning the small card carefully tucked into a pretty red ribbon that's tied around and decorating another white, rectangular box.
Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it ~ So please accept this gift without concern.
Sitting inside are four differently coloured, rounded treats that look familiar but he can't place off the top of his head. A quick search identifies the delicate confections as macarons, the colorful delights an absolute wonder as the airy crunch of the top and bottom shells simultaneously give way to a firm filling with the first bite, the sweet flavour almost dissolving on his tongue.
He and Zumi finish the box off in minutes, three of each flavour included to a total of four different flavours, so both he and his daughter each get seconds of their respective favourites.
The next morning, filled with anticipation at what new surprises you might include with the goods you send today, he's fully aware of the grin that stretches his face as he writes out a note of his own for you to receive later this evening.
The macarons were inspiring. Izumi and I definitely won't turn away any gifts you'd like to send our way. I wonder... what other surprises do you have up your sleeve? I sent a little something your way to inspire you too. - M. Osamu
The neatly written note returned, once again, on the back of the small rectangular card you'd last sent, brings a warm smile to your face. The various onigiri that came along with it, apparently with specific instructions communicated from Izumi to Reina that today's additional quantity is set aside for you specifically, stretches the amused curl of your lips into a delighted grin.
You split each of the four different types of rice balls with your daughter, listening to her input on the delicious food as she points out her order of most to least favourite. Although there's not a single one you wouldn't eat on any given day if given the choice, the food is simply divine.
Your note the following day is a compliment to the chef, with a cheeky inquiry as to what deities one must pray to in order to make food like that. His response is a swift rebuttal asking what cruel gods bless some with the skills to cook but others with the skills to bake, ironically echoing your own thoughts from the previous week.
So goes the back and forth for weeks, notes getting cuter, sassier, and more personal as jokes, challenges, and encouragements alike are enclosed among the lunches of two excited little girls, their own bond strengthening with this unique camaraderie between their parents, until you feel the peculiar sense that you know the man on the other end, without ever even having actually met him.
Then, one day, three weeks into the first exchange, you receive a note that makes your heart beat in your throat at the unspoken challenge which raises the stakes of the now familiar routine. It's a simple response to your unassuming request for the onigiri recipes you initially received as the first returned delight, a meal you and Reina have been craving since the first taste.
I can do one better and teach you. xxx-xxx-xxxx. - Osamu
There's no reason to be shy or hesitant, is there? After all, it's a kind offer that will only serve you and Reina well with your future attempts at her lunches. You can't count on Miya Osamu's kindness forever.
Fingers still shaking, you dial the number enclosed within and find the call picked up before the first ring even finishes.
"I wasn't sure ya'd actually call."
Oh, wow, that's a voice to melt hearts alright. You're still smiling as you immediately reply in beat, with the easy familiarity of your shared repartee over the last few weeks, "With an offer like that, how could I not?"
He's quiet for a second and you start to lose your smile, suddenly worrying that perhaps you've acted too familiarly with a man that's all but a stranger and offended him. But his next words, slowly expelled in a lazy but thoughtful drawl, have your heart beating fast for an entirely different reason, "I had a feeling ya'd sound as pretty as ya write."
Now you're the one that's silent but it's entirely because you're at a loss for words, this quietly charming man having stolen them right from the tip of your tongue.
A low chuckle breaks what you realized was actually somehow still a remarkably comfortable silence and then his delicious voice reaches you again, "I hope I didn't scare ya voice away. It'd be a shame now that I've only just heard it."
Okay so he's maybe much more of a flirt than the subtle hints you'd noticed over the notes, but then again, they were delivered through your daughters as messengers so it would be reasonable he would have toned it down. Then again, what kind of man flirts with a woman he's never met previously? He doesn't even know what you look like. Have you captured his interest solely through your mutual correspondence?
You almost snort, catching your thoughts and feeling like you're the main character to some historical romance. Maybe during a world war era. Mutual correspondence. Right. What are you even thinking? He's got you flustered already.
"Funny. I would never have imagined you would sound so pretty from the way you write." You're tempted to arch an eyebrow with your audible smirk but then you remember that it's not like he can see it.
"Ya think my voice is pretty, do ya?" His tone is full with soft satisfaction, "Maybe ya can tell me if it's better in person."
"And here I thought the offer on the table was for learning a delicious recipe."
You swear you hear the smile in his response, "Sounds like yer in either way."
"Sounds like I am." You concede in mock resignation but you're painfully aware that your words and following sigh sound more like a promise.
You and Reina find the charming storefront quite easily from Samu's instructions. It's finally the weekend, several days since your first call with him, and your handwritten notes have now upgraded into convenient, daily text messages.
He's definitely confident and teasing but not quite the overt flirt you briefly considered he might be from a few days ago. In fact, he's more calm and grounded, even if he can be a smooth talker, but you've quickly found that what came across as flirtatious was actually just him being honestly direct. Which is both exciting and flattering enough to make you nervous for this first real meeting today.
A soft chime sounds as you open the door to usher Reina through before following her in yourself. The first thing your eyes land on is a small girl running to your daughter like a heat seeking missile and the two collide in an adorably sweet hug, somehow understanding each other while seemingly talking simultaneously.
With a small smile on your face, you take a moment to survey your surroundings and find your bearings in this unfamiliar space. It's not an overly large area, focusing more on a cozy, comfortable atmosphere emphasized by the deliciously welcoming smell of various foods that make you feel right at home.
Your eyes run over the bar with stools lined against it before you do a double take, finally noticing the dark haired man that's leaning with his arms crossed against a door frame beyond it, watching as you examined his space.
He must be able to tell he's slightly startled you as an amused smile stretches his lips and he dips his head ever so slightly in greeting. "Welcome to Onigiri Miya."
"Thank you for inviting us, Miya-san." You bite your lip at your automatic formality, already certain what he's going to say next.
And he doesn't disappoint, eyebrow arching as he uncrosses his arms and, finally, steadily makes his way towards you, "I already told ya to call me Osamu. Or Samu."
Now you're smiling again because the situation is definitely out of the ordinary, the level of familiarity you feel with a man you're seeing for the first time can only be considered unusual. You take a moment to study him as he stops just before you, tall build with broad shoulders and a handsome face that looks like it belongs on a heartbreaker not a homemaker.
Your fingers itch to push back the locks of his hair peeking out from under his dark cap and falling over on side of his forehead, if only to have an excuse to run your hands through it. But that's definitely not appropriate no matter how comfortable you might already feel with this easygoing man.
"Right... Osamu, then. And of course, you can call me Y/n."
"Yer name and looks suit ya, just like yer voice and handwriting." He's got a small smile on his own face now and you're not sure if he's aware he basically just called you pretty. He doesn't really seem to do this on purpose, from what you've gathered.
You beam at him regardless and volley back, "Well, I can say the same for you too."
And for a brief second, that small smile splits into a quick grin that stutters the already erratic beat of your heart. Oh yes, this man is certifiably lethal in all the best ways.
"I'm happy to hear it. Now, let's sit ya down with the girls while I grab some things."
Izumi has already led Reina to a table by the window and Osamu gestures their way as he moves to lock the door behind where you came in and then moves off to the kitchen behind the bar again.
You notice with a little apprehension that the girls are sitting next to each other on one side of the booth still giddily talking together (although not over each other anymore) about friends and weekend plans and such, but you're not going to be the anxious oddball that separates them for seemingly no reason. Even if you're already sure of the overthinking you'll be doing at the thought of Samu sitting next to you in the booth.
He doesn't seem to think about it at all as he easily slides in, smoothly setting a plate and a tray with cups, glasses and a couple pitchers on the table just as you feel the left side of his body line up against your right. Okay, yeah, because this is totally normal for you. Not.
You hope neither he and especially not either of the kids can tell you're flustered, even as you feel the heat creep up your neck and flirt with your cheeks. Yup, normal day, normal day. Just a regular day with a new friend.
"Here ya go." You just hold yourself back from jumping when he hands you a cup from the tray and then leans over to pour what looks and smells like tea from one of the pitchers. If you're not going crazy, he's pressed even more against you for those long seconds, completely in your space even if it's not unwelcome.
He either knows exactly what he's doing or he's just one of those people that's never paid mind to polite social norms and rules of conduct that many prefer. While you're calming yourself down, he's already poured the girls juice from the second pitcher into their glasses and set out quarter plates in front of everyone.
You finally focus enough to take in the still steaming gyoza on the plate he'd placed down in the middle with confusion and ask, "I thought we would be making onigiri and eating it for lunch?"
"Of course, but I couldn't put ya to work on an empty stomach."
"Mhm." You give him a dubious look, you might have mentioned your early breakfast in one of your texts to him this morning, but you have a feeling that this is also an effort to make you and Reina feel comfortable in this space together instead of getting right into the cooking lessons planned for the day.
It's an incredibly thoughtful effort and that warm flush is threatening you again so you choose to tease him and deflect instead, "Somehow, I feel it's more about your empty stomach but okay, let's go with your version instead."
You lose the fight with the flush and flutters when he chuckles at your sassy retort, especially since you literally feel the vibrations melt from his body and into yours with the way he's still somewhat pressed into you. Does the man not have enough space in his own booth? Actually... you notice you can move closer to the window yourself since there's quite a bit of space on your side too but, then again, it would be a little obvious to shift now.
The girls pick up the fried dumplings by hand with happy exclamations as they bite right into theirs, you and Osamu following suit but not before placing another two on the plates in front of each of them and then splitting the remaining ones between you.
With a dip into the soy and vinegar sauce (chili excluded for the girls), you quickly bite into the first one and savour the sudden burst of flavour in your mouth. Oh wow, yes, this is exactly what your cooking is missing. This addictive, tasteful quality that makes you want multiple helpings of whatever's being served.
With a glance from the corner of your eye to the right, you meet Osamu's eyes studying your reaction and decide to ask the question on your mind, "You made these yourself right?"
"I did."
"Okay, they're hands down the best gyoza I've ever had." You compliment him genuinely before giving in to the urge to tease him yet again because the flutters are back, if they ever even left, and you can't have him knowing just how much he affects you, "But who ever heard of serving gyoza in an onigiri shop?"
He must catch the light, teasing tone because he just smirks and throws right back, "Well if they're as good as ya say, maybe I should expand the menu."
"Oh no, don't do that!" You laugh with wide eyes, "Then Reina and I will never find space when we try to come back here during regular hours! Actually, I'm sure you're already always packed, hm?"
"Some days and times less than others, but there will always be space for the two of ya whenever ya want to visit again."
Oh yeah, it's a losing battle, the flutters are a full on tsunami of feelings now. Just push it away and chill. But then he adds, "And I can teach ya this recipe too. Anytime there's something ya like or want to try, just let me know. I'm sure we can make an amazing cook outta ya yet."
Your mouth drops open followed by your blurted question, "Why are you helping me so much? I'm sure this is a lot of time and effort for you too."
You hear the girls' conversation pause as they pick up on some subtle change in either your body language or demeanour, but Osamu's calm eyes just meet your wide ones, his lips sliding into a soft smile, as he simply answers, "Because I like ya."
You feel like you're back in grade school because you want to ask if he means that he 'like' likes you or just... likes you. But there's no way you're going to ask that question, not only because it feels a bit asinine but because that's not a conversation to start in front of both of your daughters.
You look over to the girls who are watching with beaming smiles, maybe happy their parents are good friends just like the two of them, and you return their wide grins with a reassuring one of your own before looking back into steady grey eyes. "Well, I really appreciate your help. Thank you, Osamu."
"I'd say no thanks needed, but I've been down that road before." Another quick, heart-stopping grin graces his face, this one almost as roguish as his tone is playful. He's definitely referring to your initial correspondence when you made a firm point against his initial brush off, as if his actions in making extra lunch for your daughter to enjoy wasn't incredibly thoughtful and certainly out of his way.
"Well you certainly catch on quick. Let's just hope I can say the same." Your playful smile turns into a grimace at the thought of how difficult it might be to actually improve your skills. Maybe it's just a question of talent? Maybe you're just never going to be able to reproduce food like him.
But he glances over to catch your frown just in time and reassures, "I know what I'm doing. Soon enough, you will too. Just say you'll keep supplying me and Zumi with yer baking every once in a while when ya don't need us anymore."
You know he's probably joking with the last part but you hadn't planned on stopping. You love to share the goodies you bake with the people in your and Reina's life, it makes the two of you pretty happy so you're sure Izumi and Osamu will be able continue enjoying your baked goods to their heart's content.
"Izumi will definitely get her share of sweets and snacks every day." You send a smile her way when she hears you and bounces excitedly in her seat but then you force yourself to drop it and face Osamu with a challenging look instead, "But you... well, I guess we'll have to wait and if you're as good as you say and maybe then you can get some too."
He places a closed hand to his chest as if he's been struck, the girls laughing at his overdramatic reaction, but his widening smile gives him away. You look at each other for a suspended moment, with shared amusement but also the teasing heat of something else reflected in his achromatic eyes, which makes you certain he picked up on the unintended double entendre in your words.
"Sounds like a promise." Then with an arched eyebrow at the empty plates and cups in front of everyone, Samu asks, "So shall we get started?"
You agree, helping him clean up the table and he takes the opportunity to help you and Reina familiarize yourselves with the kitchen. The rest of the afternoon is spent in an equally easy cadence as he does indeed walk you through the steps of making his recipes, flavours included.
He starts with the simplest option, yaki onigiri, which is just fried rice shaped in a triangle or oval, and then demonstrates how to make and add a few of your and Reina's favourite fillings in to change and enhance the flavour. The girls enjoy making their own mini rice balls alongside the two of you and the time flies until you're all back at the table and having the onigiri you've just made for lunch.
You can't deny there's an improvement already but your little rice balls are still nowhere near the level of skill and flavour of Osamu's, even though he and the girls all assure you that you've done a great job. You accept their compliments with a smile and the determination to keep at it on your own time until you improve even further because Reina deserves better than even this.
By the time you finish eating, the girls are unsurprisingly tired out and choose to stay at the table to watch a Disney movie with Izumi's iPad. You can't help but smile in amusement while watching Osamu grab the thing from behind the bar, tapping away on the clunky looking device which is perfect for Izumi with a thick, pink rubber cover protecting it from grade-schooler level damage.
After the movie's been set up for the two worn out little munchkins, you and Osamu head back into the kitchen for him to show you how to make the gyoza and the next hour slips away with more teasing jokes, increasingly heated looks, and slightly bolder touches.
You can close your eyes and now know the feel of Osamu's hands on yours, demonstrating how to properly fold and pleat the wrappers. You can still feel the heat of his chest brush your back from when he leaned around you to pick up an empty bowl to place in the sink, and you're pondering on what feels like a heated brand on your hip where he lightly curved one hand to shift you over.
You can't deny your attraction to the man, a slow fall that you should have seen coming from the excitement of receiving his words every day until you were eagerly expecting the notes, to this first meeting where he's everything you expected from reading between his lines and even more.
Since the girls are pretty much full, you and Osamu clean off the new batch of gyoza between the both of you - him more than you, which you tease him about again. All the while, you're panicking about this new realization of your feelings, given that you're seriously crushing on a man who might only mean to help as a newfound friend and maybe you're the one reading too much into his interactions.
It's not until you've helped him clean up, collected the girls, and are watching him lock up the shop that you get some semblance of an answer.
"Thank you again Osamu. This was not only very instructive but Reina and I had a great time today."
He's holding Izumi's small hand in his, similar to Reina's in yours, and his other hand stretches up to rub at the back of his head, his arm bent at the elbow. When he speaks, it's not a direct response to your gratitude but a question instead, sounding somewhat unsure himself for the first time today, "How about next time we have a date that's more fun than instructive?"
Your jaw almost drops in surprise but you quickly collect yourself because he's still looking a little worried, maybe because he thinks he's overstepping by calling this a date or maybe because he's not sure you'll want another one even if you do accept that.
Your smile is quick to light up your face and, with a light squeeze from Reina's hand to yours accompanied by her and Izumi's giggles, you happily reply, "Just let me know when and where, and it's a date."
He grins again, the third time today your heart stops at what you're sure is usually a rarer sight since bodies aren't always dropping to the ground around him (that you've heard of). "I think I might already have something in mind."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, but let me look into it and get back to ya."
"Sounds like a promise."
With your final reply, a borrowed echo of his words to serve as a temporary goodbye, you and Reina split away from Izumi and Osamu. Heading for your car with once last look behind you, you're pleasantly unsurprised to find a flash of gunmetal grey also glancing back your way. Later that night, finished with your and Reina's joint skincare routine and having tucked her into bed, you find the expected message waiting for you.
A/N: Okay wow I had SO much fun with this one! I hope you all do too <3 It's not triple edited per usual so please do let me know if you catch any errors or issues. No promises but probably dropping Atsumu’s First Meeting next ;)
Taglist: @yatoatyourservice, @crayonwriting
© 2021 fayeimara. All rights reserved. Please do not repost, modify, or claim as yours.
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3:23AM (Dabi x F!Reader)
The quiet hum of the apartment greeted him along with the aroma of warmed food sitting underneath the lit stove stop. He kicked off his boots as he shut the door behind him. Walking over to the couch he looked over to check if his roommate had fallen asleep waiting for him to come home again. A sigh of relief left his lips as he shrugged off his coat and threw it onto the back of the couch, the melody of the song currently playing from his headphones recaptured his attention as he made his way to the bedroom. ♫ I don't need the world to see That I've been the best I can be, but I don't think I could stand to be Where you don't see me ♫
He pushed the bedroom door open just a creak to check in on the sleeping figure. “Thanks for the meal.” He whispered before he quietly shut the door. After he finished eating his meal and putting way the dish into the fridge he sat down outside his roommates door. To: FoodMama -Hey, can I keep these headphones? The sound is really good Sent 3:00AM He placed a hand on the door quietly before he walked to his own bedroom. Chrrp! From: FoodMama -👍 -Can we cuddle? :c I miss you Read 3:05AM Dabi rolled over onto his side, staring at his phone for a while. Cuddling with Y/N did sound nice.. and it had been a while since the last time he’s shared a bed with his roommate. it seems he took too long for the (H/C) haired girl’s liking, she was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, hands on her hips with her chest puffed out. “What’s wrong with you Bee? You never leave me hanging this long when I ask for cuddles.” She pouted and plopped herself down next to the raven haired man before flopping over on top of him. “There are no secrets in this house, spill it.” He chuckled at her attempted bravado, ruffling her hair up. “Suddenly I can’t refuse cuddle time with my favorite chief and its the end of the world? There’s some sort of terminal illness with me after all.. How could I, of all people possibly refuse the privilege of a cuddle session with the worlds greatest cuddler?” “That’s exactly right!” She puffed her cheeks up and began playfully drumming on his arms. “You should be ashamed of yourself Bee! You’ve wounded my pride! How dare you! I never want to see you again!” She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. Dabi sat up and snaked his arms around the girls waist, pulling her close to his chest as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with me, Y/N. I promise sunshine, I just..” He paused as he thought for a moment, “I just have some issues I’m going through right now.” “You can tell me anything Bee.. I don’t care what it is. I accept you, for you. I love you, for you. There is nothing that you could ever say or do that’s going to push me away from you. I know.. you must think I’m some sort of idiot who has no survival skills or maybe I’m too trusting...” She paused for a moment, staring into an ocean of turquoise that seemed to glow in the moonlight. “I feel safe around you. I feel comforted by your presence and if anything ever happened to you, I’d be really sad Bee.” He smiled at her briefly, mulling over what to say next. “What if.. and this is all hypothetical now. What if I wasn’t as nice of a guy as you think I am? What if I was a villain?” She laughed, her laughter sounded like bells. “Listen.. I don’t care Bee, whatever all your baggage is or what you’ve done. I accept it all. If you’ve hurt people I’m sure you had a reason for it. Something that you care about, something you’re passionate about. That’s not what someone who’s bad does. Bad people.. hurt people for simple things like because it’s fun and they’re bored. Bad people.. think they can get away with anything. But you.. Bee.. you aren’t a bad person. You care. I don’t know you’re life story but I hope one day you feel comfortable enough to tell me all about it and when you do.. I’ll be right here. In this apartment or maybe.. on a little faraway island with you if you want to run away from everything. Wherever you are, is where I want to be.” “Why?” The words stumbled out of his mouth before he could process them. He felt a flicker of emotions, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel. Is this what it felt like to be loved by someone? “You understand me in a way that no one else does. Bee, you’ve seen me at my worst and unpleasant and yet.. you still come back here. You still come back home to me, injured and hurt. I don’t understand.. you don’t even stop to go see a doctor you just.. you just come here. For someone so set on being so independent.. you still come back to make sure I’m okay.” She sniffled as she wiped away a tear. “I love you Bee, you know that? I love you.. more than anything in this world.” She shifted around in her spot to face him, pressing her hand against his cheek. “I hope to god that you at least feel some morsel of comfort when you think of me.” He laughed, almost hysterical as he pressed his cheek into her hand and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “You silly girl..” He stared at her with adoration in his eyes, he didn’t need to tell her how much she meant to him. That look told her everything. No matter what happened, like a cursed boomerang, he’d just keep coming back. For one more meal. One more kiss. Another chance to tell her ‘I love you more than anything’ in quiet ways one last time. He peppered kisses along her palm, down her arm. “I love you too.. maybe a little differently than you do.” He pressed kisses against each of her knuckles with care. “I hope you don’t mind.. that I’ve spent an unfair amount of time dreaming of kissing you.” He smirked as he pressed another kiss into the palm of her hand. “..I wouldn’t mind.” Her cheeks pinked and grew a deep shade of red as the words slipped out. “I’d really like that..” Her heartbeat quickened as she stared into the turquoise marbles a meager inches away from her face. His lips drew closer to hers as he cupped her face tenderly and captured her lips. The kiss was softer, needier than she initially expected. She wasn’t expecting to be lovingly kissed like this no.. but it was pleasant. She snaked her arms up around his neck, her fingers dancing along the back of his nape. Her butt was cupped by his free hand, rubbing her ass as he felt it through the thin fabric that seperated his hand from skin. He broke away from the kiss for air and stared into her (E/C) eyes. “What would you like to do?” He asked in a husky growl. “W-What do you mean?” She was frazzled, the tenderness of the kiss short-circuited her brain momentarily. “I mean.. we can keep it PG-13, cuddling and kissing the rest of the night.. or I could maybe.. help you feel real nice. All up to you ofcourse sunshine.” He traced patterns along her hips and up her spine. “Whatever you choose, I fully support.” “I think.. uhm.. I don’t..” Her cheeks burned hot as she gently patted them. “I don’t know Bee! I’m embarrassed!” She whined as she pressed her face into his chest. “Kissing and cuddling it is then. I don’t want to overwhelm you too much.” He teased as he pressed another kiss to the top of her head. “You know.. you’re really cute when you get all riled up doll.” Taglist @some-kindofgnome @humanitiesstrongestchicken
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Aaaaaa Thank You so much for the looooooooooooong wait! I was too occupied and writer's block makes me tired more than ever 😭. Thank you so much for the request @ashavazesa ❤❤❤❤❤
A/N: I don't really take ALL Southeast Asia countries in this as I'm not really familiar with it. If you have questions regarding the culture, you may PM me or comment here ❤. Or you may google it, especially Butod 😏.
Lords x Southeast Asia Culture
Nobunaga - Hungry Ghost Festival (Malaysia / Singapore)
-It is a festival to honor the dead and so the gate from hell is opened.
-Mitsuhide: Most probably when the gate from hell is open, there will be Hideyoshi, practically running here and there upon his arrival ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^).
-Masamune: Exactly. With the red carpet and rose petals. Heh.
-Hideyoshi: ಠ_ಠ.... Still- Nobunaga-sama's presence itself is majestic, so I have to agree with both of you *cough*
-Mitsunari: But I don't understand.. Hideyoshi-sama is kind, why would he be in hell (´;д;`)?
-Hideyoshi: Now, now, Mitsunari. Not everyone will go to heaven easily.
-Mitsuhide: Indeed. One of the main reasons why he goes to hell is because he sister-zoned every maiden in the world.
-Hideyoshi: H E Y ( ☉д⊙)!
-Back to Nobunaga: I demand my offering to be a pack of armies, thousands of konpeitos, and MC's candid pictures 😏😏😏😏.
-Shingen: How indecent. To hell with you 😒.
-Kennyo: Go somewhere else, don't take my place 😒.
-Nobunaga: Excuse me? Hell would not be yours as I am the Demon King
-Kennyo: Excuse you 😒. My sin is bigger than yours.
-MC: Is it me or is this a White Girls Sengoku Version ಠ_ಠ?
-Ieyasu: ...Why would anyone want to fight over hell in the first place =_=?
Hideyoshi - Everyone is Addressed as Boss / Uncle / Aunty (Malaysia)
-So he went to a restaurant..
-"Boss. What do you want to order?"
-He look left. And right.
-"Eh Boss. You want to order or not?"
-"Huh? M-me??"
-Then he went to a public place, and his wallet fell from his pocket,
-"Uncle. Excuse me."
-Uncle-- WHAT- He is not THAT OLD-- "Wh- Wha??"
-"Aiya Uncle. Your wallet. Later people take your money how?"
-"Uh--" What kind of language is that anyway??
-Sasuke: If you are wondering what kind of language they speak, it is called as 'Manglish', Hideyoshi-san.
-Hideyoshi: Ma- Ma what?
-Sasuke: Manglish. Malaysian + English casual ways of talking to someone.
-Random person: Eh Boss, excuse me. Do you want to enter or not? If not please move lah! You are blocking the door!
-Hideyoshi: ........*Stressed 101*
Masamune - Butod (Sago Grub) (Malaysia - Sabah)
-Le butod: *Wiggle wiggle wiggle* OwO
-And MC: *FAINTS*
-"So this is a.. Grub from sago tree, you say? And it is recommended to be eaten raw."
-"It looks like MC when she was struggling to get away from my grip when I try to kiss her."
-MC, who has fainted, woke up "Excuse me?? Are you saying that I am-"
-Butod: *Wiggle Wiggle on Masamune's Palm* OwO
-MC: *gasssppp* 😱😱😱😱 YOU..! DON'T TOUCH ME WITH THAT HAND TONIGHT ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥A˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚!
-Masamune: Eeeeh but why? *Pulls its head and eat it raw* Hmm.. Taste like chicken.
-MC: .....*Takes a bottle of sake and shove it into his mouth* Wash it down with this! WASH IT WITH T H I S!
-Masamune: MMMMF 😵😵😵😵!!
Mitsuhide - Chinese New Year Celebrations (Malaysia / Singapore)
-He was offered with lots of CNY treats and of course, he ate it without refusing it.
-Only to get the bewildered reactions from the people around him when he mixed the rice + fish + dumplings + sweet rice balls + spring rolls + glutinous rice cake in one bowl and eat it like nobody's business.
-Hideyoshi: Even if you can't taste it, don't eat it in that way ( ☉д⊙)!!
-"Why Hideyoshi? This foods represents luck, you see. I need this luck so I can always escape from your endless 'love' ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^)."
-Learned about Ang Pow.
-"So you will give away money if you are married, and will receive it if you are not married. I see..."
-MC: What's wrong, Mitsuhide?
-"Hmm? Oh, I was just concerned about Hideyoshi. Because he will give away Ang Pows throughout his life." *Shakes his head* "That's what he gets when he sister-zoned everyone."
-Hideyoshi: ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ.....
Ieyasu - Sambal (Hot Relish made with veggies / fruits and spices) (Indonesia)
-At first he was skeptical.
-Until he put some in his dish.
-Cues Ieyasu hugging the Sambal Jar.
-Growls when Masamune said "Can I have a look what they put inside-- Hey, hey, I said I want to have a look, not that I will eat it, lad. Calm down."
-Nobunaga, the usual demon on your shoulder: It's that precious, hmm? So you'd rather choose that than MC?
-MC: Please don't make me an option between food, Nobunaga ಠ_ಠ.
-Mitsuhide: Or maybe.. You can eat her by pouring all over her ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^)?
-MC: I will become a living swollen red bell pepper, no thanks (눈‸눈).
Mitsunari - Vietnam and the amount of motorcyclists on the road (Vietnam)
-The gangs be all flustered with their surroundings, especially Hideyoshi.
-"Stay close, all of you! It's dangerous!"
-Masamune & Mitsuhide: Yes mom ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^)~
-Hideyoshi: Who is your MOM ( ☉д⊙)??
-Sasuke: It's alright, they say you can cross it casually as they will automatically avoid you.
-Hideyoshi: Impossible, isn't it dangerous? Besides, it's too close one after another!
-Sasuke: Here, let me give you an example. *Gives Mitsunari a book and whispered "You may cross now."*
-Our pure angel be like "O3O ooooh~~" And there he goes, walking straight ahead, with head buried in a book.
-Meanwhile, Hideyoshi: *Were pulled by both Masa and Mitsuhide* GAHH LET GO OF ME! MITSUNARIIIII \(Q A Q)/!!!! *GASP* NOOO NOBUNAGA-SAMA DON'T CROSS THE ROAD WHILE EATING YOUR KONPEITOOO!!!
-And Ieyasu, who has been watching Mitsunari who crossed the road safely to the other side: TCH. There's no one that hit him (•ˋ _ ˊ•).
Kenshin: 5 People on one Motorcycle (Indonesia)
-The first thing that he ask Sasuke was...
-"What is that?"
-Sasuke: Oh, as you can see, Kenshin-sama. Some people from a poor family will ride their motorcycle altogether as one. And so,.. Kenshin-sama?
-"Bringing the motorcycle back to the past would cause unnecessary scene, but an idea of 5 people in one ride is not bad. Hm."
-"Imagine, when you go to the battlefield, with 5 people in one horse, you can kill 5 people at one time."
-"Also, if they bring sake supplies, and 1 person hold one sake each, and there's 10 horses, I would've get 500 bottles in an hour."
-Them: ........
-Sasuke: Can't do, Kenshin-sama. Please pity our horse and if you work here, in this era, please don't be a math teacher. You will give a bad example in your class.
-Kenshin: Don't stop what I want to do, Sasuke (눈‸눈). Fine. Let's change that 5 person into me, and the killed people to Shingen instead. So it will be 5 of me, killing Shingen in one strike.
-Shingen: Psssh. If I were you, there will be 5 of me on one horse, so all of us can kiss MC in one go 😏✨✨✨.
-Yukimura: PLEASE STOP GAH MY BRAIN @A@
Shingen - Thailands... and their Kathoey (Thailand)
-Welp. His eyebrows wouldn't stop wiggling here and there to every pretty woman that he spotted.
-'Woman'. Heh.
-Sasuke about to warn him but Kenshin hold him back.
-"Let's teach him a lesson." He said. "It will be interesting." He said.
-And so they go to one place for dinner, when they were surrounded by a bunch of pretty women.
-"Hey handsome~~ wanna have fun with us?"
-Yukimura: Eh- uh- eh- I- I- o//////o
-"Oh come on~~~ *grope*"
-Yukimura: *Genuine Girlish Voice* KYAAAAAAAAA!!! *Fainted with foams*
-Shingen: Now, now, you girls are pretty attempting, but we need to fill our empty stomachs first, you see?
-He was occupied in talking to the girls when Sasuke whispered something to one of them without him realizing it. Then the girl went to Shingen's side, hugging his arm, "Please~ have fun with us~~ I will give you a reward if you say 'Yes'~"
-Shingen, playing along: Oooh? What would that be?
-Le girl, changing her voice into a manly one, "A lick of my lollipop, bro."
-And he fainted next to Yukimura. With foams in his mouth too.
Yukimura - Bali and their.... 'Souvenirs' (Indonesia)
-The first thing that came out from his mouth when he arrived at Bali is "Wh- wh- wh- r-romantic island?? Wh- who would show their intimacy in public--"
-*Shriek to a statue with a peculiar s*x position*
-*Shriek to almost everything*
-*Got stuck in one place until Sasuke had to pulled him out from the shop*
-Sasuke: Forgive me, bro. It's Shingen-sama's idea to enter this shop. It's normal for you to be culture shocked as one of their famous souvenirs is wee wee keychains (´・д・`).
-"Don't say that casually OAO!"
-MC, takes one wee wee display and called out for him, "Yukimura~ come here for a sec. Look! Your wee wee (✿❛◡❛)!"
-"MMMMMCCCCCC ୧( ಠ////Д////ಠ )୨!!!!"
-Also Yukimura: *Gasp* This shop sells your kind! *Points at the restaurant that displays Rolling Pig*
-Scene of Yukimura got slapped by MC unfolds.
Sasuke - Sarawak's Blowpipe (Malaysia - Sarawak)
-Tour guide: One of the ethnicities in Sarawak is Iban people. They are known to hunt their prey with a blowpipe, which contained with a poison-coated needle.
-Sasuke: Oooh. *looks at the blowpipe* It's like detective conan but a poisoned needle ones (´・д・`)✨✨✨
-Tour guide:
-Others:
-Tour guide: Would you like to give a try?
-Sasuke: Yes please (´・д・`)✨✨✨ which target should I shoot it with?
-Tour guide: The balloon, next to the pole in front of you ☺.
-Sasuke: Okay. *Takes a deep breath*
-Kenshin:.......*monotonous voice* Ah, a mosquito. *Kicks Shingen to make him land in front of Sasuke*
-Shingen: H-Hey-- OAO
-Sasuke: Mmf- *Instantly pushed the pipe to shoot something else*
-*Stab*
-Mitsunari who happens to pass by: Hmm? Oh my, I don't remember this book has a needle attached to it (ㆁᴗㆁ✿).
-Other tour members: EEEEEKKKK 😱😱😱
-Ieyasu who also happens to be not to far from the group: Tch. Books from the future must not to be underestimated ಠ_ಠ. It's too thick.
#ikemen sengoku#ikemen sengoku imagines#ikemen sengoku mc#ikemen sengoku hideyoshi#ikemen sengoku masamune#ikemen sengoku mitsuhide#ikemen sengoku kenshin#ikemen sengoku nobunaga#ikemen sengoku mitsunari#ikemen sengoku shingen#ikemen sengoku sasuke#ikemen sengoku ieyasu#ikemen sengoku yukimura
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Scary Movies? No, Thank You. {Elriel}
31 Days of Halloween: Day 21.
All installments co-written with @snelbz
Based on a prompt sent in by anon : “We just started dating, so we don’t know each other day well yet, but you invited me over to watch a movie, and it’s a scary movie oH NO”
Warning: language.
Autumn/Halloween 2020 {Collection}
It had been a long, long day.
On a normal day, at this point in the semester, Elain might go home and have a glass of wine while she graded her first grade classes assignments. Today was not a normal day though. No, today was Halloween, which meant her kids were wired from the time they sat down in the desks to the moment the bell rang, dismissing them to go home and get ready to trick-or-treat.
When she got home, she changed out of her “teacher clothes” and got comfortable, pulling on a baggy sweatshirt from one of her sorority’s Trunk-or-Treat events they’d put on for the local kids and a pair of black yoga pants. She’d just sat down with the aforementioned glass of wine, the bottle in her other hand, when her phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, how was work?”
Elain smiled the second she heard his voice. They’d just started dating, but she liked him, a lot. “Good. Long, but good. How about you? Good day?”
“Edited all day,” Azriel chuckled, then cleared his throat. “Um, if you don’t have any plans tonight, I thought you’d like to come over and watch a movie?”
“Tonight?” she asked, looking down at her cozy clothes and bottle of wine.
“I know it’s short notice, and Halloween, but I-.”
“No, I’d love to!” she said, feeling like she’d given him the wrong idea in her hesitation. “I’d love to.”
She could hear his smile when he said, “Good. I thought I could make dinner, too?”
“Dinner and a movie?” Elain asked, smiling to herself. “What time should I show up?”
“How about seven?” he suggested.
“Seven sounds great, I need to do some grading before I come over anyways,” she said, putting the cork back in the bottle. One glass would have to do.
“Great, then I’ll see you at seven,” he replied.
“See you then.” She hung up the call and put the bottle back in the fridge, before returning to the couch and grading the spelling tests from the day. All the words were Halloween themed and there were certainly some terrifying spellings she came across.
After going over her lesson plans for the following week, she grabbed her purse, hopped in her car and a few minutes before seven, she was knocking on his door.
He opened it and she said, “I know, I’m early, I’m sorry.”
He chuckled. “Early is fine, come on in.”
She entered, and looked around his place as she did so. He had a little apartment, nothing crazy, but it was definitely homey.
Very comfortable.
“Make yourself at home,” he said, shutting the door behind them.
“It smells amazing,” Elain said.
“Ah, thanks,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “I’m no chef, but it’s a hobby.”
“I’m sure it’s delicious,” she assured him, setting down her bag and slipping off her shoes. He looked handsome, of course, in that kind of way where he didn’t even have to try.
He wore a simple sweatshirt, jeans, and his hair was pushed back out of his face. She could see the ink of his tattoos peeking out above his collar.
“Wine?” he asked, leading her into the kitchen. “I have red and white.”
“White, please,” she smiled, sitting down at his little bar. “Thank you.”
There was no kitchen table, but being a man in his twenties, Elain assumed he didn’t host many dinner parties and a simple bar with two stools was appropriate.
“I hope pot roast is okay,” he said, turning off the slow cooker and pulling its contents out.
“That’s more than okay,” Elain said, and she meant it. It looked amazing.
He chuckled and wiped his hands off on the towel tugged through one of his belt loops, before pulling a bottle of white wine from the fridge and pouring them each a glass. Elain took a small drink and hummed happily.
Azriel made each of them a plate as they talked about their days. Elain told him about a little boy who’d come to school in his costume, Spider-Man, of course, who would only respond if she called him Spider-Man, or Peter.
“Peter?” He asked, sitting next to her.
“Peter Parker,” she said, as if it were obvious.
The blush that rose on Azriel’s face told her it should have been.
“How about you?” Elain asked, after a massive bite of carrots. “Anything exciting happen in the world of editing?”
“Eh, I’m editing this commercial for a local company…” Azriel chuckled and shook his head. “They shot an absurd amount of footage and it’s, uh...incredibly corny.”
Elain grinned. “Now I'm intrigued. You must show me the final product when it’s done.”
Azriel laughed, quietly. “Oh, I will. Get ready for two old men who aren’t actors pretending they're in a very low budget Wild West.”
“Ah, my favorite kind of commercials,” Elain promised.
Once they were done eating, and Elain was stuffed, Azriel was washing off their plates. Elain offered to help clean up, but Azriel poured her another glass of wine and told her to relax.
She was his guest.
“Amazing wine, a delicious dinner,” she said, sitting on his couch with her legs folded underneath her. “I hope your taste in movies is as good as everything else.”
He chuckled and came out of the kitchen, shutting off the lights as he did. “I’d like to think that it is.”
“We’ll see,” she replied as he sat down and picked up his video game controller, turning the console on. “I’m going to run to the restroom before it starts, okay?”
“First door on the left,” he said with a smile.
When Elain returned, all the lights, save for the one on the end table next to Azriel, were off, and there was a big, fluffy blanket between them. She sat down, cuddling up under the blanket, and he asked, “Ready?”
She nodded and he grinned, turning the lamp off and clicking Play.
The introduction to It began to play.
Elain’s shoulders tensed.
She was not a scary movie person. Yes, it was Halloween, the scariest of the holidays, but she liked the cutesy part of Halloween - the pumpkins, the decorations around her classroom, Halloween parties.
Scary movies? No, thank you.
But she liked this guy. A lot. And she could tell he was excited about it, could tell he loved the thrill as the opening score played.
It was like a train wreck, in the sense that Elain couldn’t look away. It didn’t matter how hard her heart was beating or how terrifying the scene on screen was, she found that she was barely even able to blink without reminding herself to do it.
She hated it.
About halfway through, Azriel got up to run to the restroom. Elain reached for the controller to pause the movie, but he said, “I’ve seen it a hundred times, don’t worry.”
With a forced smile, Elain nodded and leaned back in her spot, her eyes falling back on the screen.
When Az returned just a few minutes later, he found Elain, completely under the blanket, the movie still playing, despite her attempts to block it out.
He pressed his lips together to keep from laughing as he sat down on the couch, shifting the cushions beneath him as he did so.
Elain cleared her throat, still under the blanket. “I got...cold.”
“Cold?” he repeated. “It has nothing to do with the killer clown?”
There was a pause. “He may have contributed.”
Azriel reached over and pulled the blanket down, just a little bit, so that he could meet her eyes with his own, bright and humored. “You don’t like scary movies, do you?”
Elain hesitated.
Azriel laughed, quietly, and before she could find something to say, he said, “It’s okay. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have picked something else. Or, asked what you wanted to watch.”
“No, no,” she began, quickly. “It’s fine! I mean, it’s Halloween, and this is what you do on Halloween, right?”
“Is hiding under blankets typical for your Halloweens or can I suggest a change in tradition?” He asked, trying to hide his smile.
She pulled the blanket off of her head. “Of course, it isn’t! I just like funny movies better.”
Azriel was pressing his lips together, trying very, very hard not to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” She asked, blushing. “It’s normal not to like scary movies.”
“Your hair is a mess,” he admitted, finally starting to laugh.
And it was, it was insane from where the blanket had pulled through it and mussed it up. But it was absolutely adorable.
She liked it when Azriel laughed. She could tell it was a gesture that he saved for very few people.
She liked when he looked at her the way he was looking at her then, too. His hazel eyes soft, his lips slightly parted, slightly raised at the corners.
Azriel reached out and ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing it down. Elain didn’t move. She sat perfectly still, letting him touch her long, wavy locks. She couldn’t ignore the butterflies in the pit of her stomach.
Those butterflies fluttered faster as he slowly leaned in.
Elain closed her eyes, parted her lips.
Her lips that softly, gently met his.
The kiss was sweet, tender and everything Elain had ever dreamed a first kiss should be. He didn’t immediately begin to paw at her or even try to slip his tongue into her mouth. No, it was with the softest of pressure that he gently pressed his lips against hers and Elain felt like was home.
He smelled like black pepper and vanilla and something smoky. She could feel the smallest scratch of stubble against her cheeks, from where he’d shaved this morning. And if she-.
A scream from the tv had Elain pulling away, gasping and pressing her hand to her chest.
Azriel was literally rolling on the floor, laughing.
“Don’t laugh!” she cried, but was unable to stop her own laugh from bubbling from her lips. She didn’t mind, though, because he simply shook his head, called her cute, and kissed her, again.
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3 Prompt Summaries Game
reunions, masks, body worship - suggested by @polizwrites
@polizwrites - Now that Rhodey was full time military, Tony hadn’t seen him in months. They made plans to meet up in Key West during Fantasy Fest — wearing masks (and very little else), they could finally indulge their own fantasy of being a couple in public.
@psychiccatpanda - Rhodey took the kids trick-or-treating on his own because Tony had been called away on business again. When they get back, Tony's home and has set the place up for a Halloween party for the kids and their friends. When the kids' friends go home and the lights go down, Rhodey takes his time welcoming his husband home.
@somesortofitalianroast - It was 5 years since Steve Rogers had last seen Bucky Barnes, when Barnes left in the middle of the night after they had sex for the first time, leaving the country the next day for a lucrative job, and Steve heartbroken. It had been several years since Steve had thought of Barnes, though he’d recognize the man anywhere, even behind a domino mask at a masquerade ball. Just seeing Barnes made his blood boil, and he wanted to charge across the ballroom, slap the man silly, and then worship every inch of the man’s body. Too bad he was at the ball with clients and there was no way he could do that without losing a very important contract.
@darthbloodorange - (ShrunkyClunks) - He waits in the shadows of an old warehouse, a mask obscuring his identity. No one could know he was here; not only would his reputation be tarnished, but that of the Avengers as their leader. But there was something about the dark assassin that drew him in. Barnes treated him like no other in this world. Treasured him, possessed him, worshipped him. Not like a hero as the world did, but as a man and lover.
Keep reading for lots more!
cookies, mermaid, dancing - suggested by @somesortofitalianroast
@somesortofitalianroast - Darcy didn’t bake for the Avengers all the time, and she never made her mermaid cookies, since they were complicated and she needed to pay attention to the details when icing them with fancy icing. So it was a big deal when she made them, the sort of thing that made you want to dance in the kitchen.
@gavilansblog - Luca AU where Tony introduces mer-people Steve and Bucky to cookies and dancing
@deehellcat - Morgan's eighth birthday party featured a mermaid theme, cookies with sparkly decorations, and dancing.
@psychiccatpanda - Bucky Barnes never dreamed he'd ever be put in charge of kids. Who'd want the Winter Soldier for a babysitter? But this little girl - Tony Stark's little girl - stared up at him, waiting for a reply.
He was pretty sure the last time he'd been this nervous was when he came back to the States after Wakanda. "Yeah, we can do that. Sounds like fun."
Which was how he found himself not-quite elbows deep in blue-green frosting for the ocean reef cookies they had baked (that he had baked) while Morgan spun around the kitchen dancing in her mermaid costume.
@lbibliophile-mcu - Tony looks at the tray of raw cookies in dismay. Whoever had designed the mermaid cookie cutter clearly had no concept of the baking skill of the average parent.
He had managed to press out all the pictures without causing more damage than the occasional lost arm or misshapen head (and a couple of 'defective' cookies are always required for taste-testing straight out of the oven). But the process of transferring the cookies from the bench to the tray had caused the raw dough to stretch and fold and tear; leaving figures better described as some sort of vaguely-humanoid aquatic eldritch horror...
Impatient, Morgan clambers onto her stool and gasps in delight. "Look, Daddy! The mermaids are dancing!"
@darthbloodorange - (Thundershield) - Thor set out on his boat to the middle of the lake. A smile on his face and a song on his lips. People feared the lake and the creatures that dwelled within. He didn't see why. Peering over the edge of the boat, he watched the mermaids dance. His eyes drawn to one in particular; the blond with the silvery-blue tail. He unwraps the cookies and sets them on the edge of his boat, hoping to draw the merman close again.
picnic, dragon, promises - suggested by @psychiccatpanda
@deehellcat - Steve and Bucky slip away from the village every chance they get to spend time together. Their favorite place to picnic is perilously close to a rumored dragon's lair, but they dare it for its beauty. imagine their surprise when one night as they stargaze and promise forever to each other, a dark shadow flies overhead then lands nearby. It's the legendary dragon, who greets them and offers to witness their solemn vows. (spoiler alert, the dragon is Tony, and I'm not sure what his relationship to them would end up being.)
@psychiccatpanda - Tony hated picnics. He'd been on so many for photo shoots with his mom and Howard, then for Stark Industries, and the occasional summer charity event. Picnics sucked. There was either too much sun or not enough, not to mention bugs, screaming kids, or other couples making out.
"You promised, Tony," the love of his life reminded him. "And I got you a surprise." The surprise was a kite in the shape of a dragon. Suddenly, the day was looking better.
@somesortofitalianroast - Steve was walking to a picnic on the beach when he found a baby dragon, abandoned on the side of the road. He picked it up, intending to take it to the local fantasy animal shelter, but as soon as he touched it, he knew he would never be able to let it go. Which is why he was standing on the dunes, murmuring promises to the dragon in his arms.
@rebelmeg - pepper sighed. "tony, you promised you were gonna stop doing that." pointedly looking away from her, the red and gold dragon roughly the size of a large dog pointedly opened his mouth, and stuffed the donut hooked on his claw inside. puffs of smoke emitted from his nostrils and he chuckled in a rough, growly way when a sandwich in a baggie smacked him in the back of the head.
"we're never going on a picnic when you're shifted again, this is ridiculous."
@darthbloodorange - (Stucky, Fantasy AU) - Steve walks up to the den of the dragon; his once best friend and lover. Baskets of meat in hand, and his heart weighted heavily in his chest. He'd kept his promise for over 70 years, and he wasn't about to break it now. "Bucky, it's me. I know you remember me. You're in there somewhere, I feel it," he says in his elvish tongue. Within the den comes a mighty roar, seeming to shake the very core of the mountain. But Steve is not dissuaded.
bread, defenestration, jingle - suggested by @rebelmeg
@rebelmeg - standing at the window and very calmly eating her sandwich, natasha watched as clint climbed out of the bushes underneath and went streaking for the street, where an ice cream truck was driving past. the second he'd heard the jingly song, the idiot had flung his own sandwich in the air and literally dove out the window. wondering if he'd realize he didn't have any money on him, nat smirked.
@psychiccatpanda - (WinterIronHawk implied) To be fair, Clint had not thought about 'costume integrity' or the fact that the Christmas elf pajamas did not count for much in the way of bodily protection. On the other hand, though, he'd just been planning on eating as much of the freshly baked panettone bread as Bucky let him get away with while they waited for Tony to get home. Getting thrown through the window of Tony's Malibu house by some Hydra experiment had not been on his radar at all. (Not Bucky - to be completely clear, he was cute and Clint didn't think mean things about people who baked him a nigh-endless quantity of sweets.) At least he managed to keep the hat with its little bell that jingled cheerfully as Clint sailed through the air.
@darthbloodorange - Stony (probably a 5+1 fic) - Tony frowns as the familiar jingle of his phone drew him away from kneading his sourdough. He groans when he sees who it was that was calling. He nearly doesn't answer, but Barnes almost never calls, so curiosity gets the better of him. "Stark," the man greets, voice as gruff as ever. "What do you want?" he grumbles. "Arm's acting up again. Accidently threw your husband out a window. He's hanging on about the 26th floor? Thought you should know." "Damn it!" Tony cries, armour assembling around him quickly. He wishes this was the first time Barnes' arm had thrown an Avenger out the window... but it wasn't.
@lbibliophile-mcu - Tony likes bread as much as the next guy, but he is this close to swearing off the stuff entirely. He tenses as Clint moves behind him, his humming looping into yet another round of the jingle for the local bakery. He snaps. "Clint! If I hear another note I swear I will throw you out this window! And not send the suit after you." Clint grins, opens his mouth and... shuts it again. Silent.
Werewolves, Gardening, Hurt/Comfort - suggested by @darthbloodorange
@somesortofitalianroast - (preserum!steve/werewolf!bucky) When he moved into the house, Steve was looking forward to growing a garden, with a large vegetable patch, all the herbs, and some flowers for the colors. He wasn’t expecting to get overheated. He certainly wasn’t expecting the werewolf to bound out of the woods to take care of him. He’d think he imagined the entire thing, except the werewolf stuck around. Still taking care of him.
@tehroserose - Steve and Tony had retreated into the woods. Obadiah had taken over Tony's birthright, and Hydra had encroached on Steve's home of Brooklyn. They met there, and lived off their wits. Tony did most of the smithing for the various exiles, while Steve gardened vegetables that were rare and valuable. They were content, and while they wished they could save their homelands, there was no real hope of doing so. No hope until one night, when Steve was doing one last check of the garden before going to sleep, he found a big, bleeding wolf.
@rebelmeg - "right here, honey," pepper pointed to a spot in the dirt, and tony padded over, pawing at the spot a few times before starting to dig. "yep, that's enough." she stopped him when the hole was deep enough, then held out a hand for the flower morgan had cupped in her hands, cradling the ball of roots and dirt with care. "see, now it's perfect! you wanna take a ride on daddy now, morgan? i think he's getting bored with gardening."
"yeah!" morgan jumped up with a shout, and scrambled up onto the werewolf's back with no problems. "go, daddy, go!" with a woof, tony took off at a run, morgan holding tight to his fur as she giggled, and pepper smiled as she watched them. tony hated going through a transformation during the full moon, the pain of it pretty extreme, but they'd found a lot of ways to make up for it.
@psychiccatpanda - Tony had avoided Barnes since Steve had brought him to the compound. The werewolf had done the same. Howard hadn't had anything good to say about weres in general, but everyone knew wolves were the worst. It was part of the reason that part of the Avengers had been politely asked to leave Wakanda. Opening the door to his patio, Tony caught the shine of eyes and Barnes scrambled back from what he'd been doing. Tony scanned the patio and only saw a trowel, some loose dirt, and a flat of plants - wolfsbane. "Doesn't that stuff give you blisters or something?" Tony asked, knowing that it was probably true. "How about you come in and wash your hands and tell me what you're up to."
@darthbloodorange - (Ults Stony) - After Steve is infected with Lycanthropy, Tony took him to one of his parents' houses out in the country. Everyone expected Steve would get over it, given time, as he did with the vampirism. But the lycanthropy sticks, appearing to have fused with the serum. While SHIELD's scientists look into a cure, Tony stays with Steve. Growing bored of the overly-manicured, emptiness that was the green fields surrounding the country house, Steve takes up gardening as his current mission. Tony watches, completely enthralled, as Steve slowly transforms the area around the house.
letter, basket, book - suggested by @rebelmeg
@jamesbuckystark - Someone left a basket on Tony's doorstep containing a book, a map, and a magnifying glass. Inside the book was a letter dated 1942. He's curious to find out what this means
@tehroserose - Morgan put down the letter. It was the last one. Her father had written her one for every birthday and potential special occasion. This one was for when she became a mother. She couldn't have them hidden away, they were on a basket on her dresser in her room, but that didn't make them any less bittersweet. He left her behind. To save the world, but he had left her.
She went to sit in the rocking chair next to her child's crib and began to read the children's story her mother had allowed all those years ago. "Iron Man and the End of Thanos". Any children she had would know their grandfather.
@somesortofitalianroast - When Bucky decided to become a librarian, he thought it would give him access to all the books all the time, in exchange for maybe some shelving. He didn’t realize how much work went into collections development and management, nor how much time was spent looking books up for patrons on their own system when asked if the library had a particular book. Boring and frustrating. He just had to stick it out until he paid off the worst of his student loans. Until the day the letter arrived on his desk, sitting next to a gift basket from a local fancy food store. A letter letting him know that the gift basket was from his secret admirer.
@jacarandabanyan - After waking from the ice, Steve took to reading voraciously to catch up on what he'd missed. Despite Tony's offers, he never did come around to a screen reader, though, and instead opted to keep a pile of books on his bedside table. When the pile of books got too big, he had a whicker basket to put the overflow in.
Tony feels like the two of them can't have a conversation outside the heat of battle without devolving into arguments and personal attacks, so he takes to slipping notes into Steve's books. Over time, the notes get longer and longer, until it would be more proper to call them letters than notes.
@rebelmeg - tiny!tony is digging through a basket of new books the jarvises got him, a mix of kids books and textbooks and novels. as he digs, one of the books falls open, and out falls an envelope. the letter inside seems to be written in code... but he's also pretty sure that's his mama's handwriting. a grin spreading across his face, he sits down next to the basket and starts working out the code.
@darthbloodorange - (Stucky? Witch/Fantasy AU?) - Steve sits in his chair by the window and opens his favourite book. With careful hands, he pulls out the letter from his mother, which he'd been using as a bookmark, and carries on where he'd left off. Library, his familiar, jumps from her basket into his lap and curls up, butting her head against his hands. Despite the warmth and happiness he felt here, it wasn't complete. A part will always be missing until Bucky returns.
@psychiccatpanda - Whoever had suggested they stay at this rickety, 'quaint' seaside hotel had apparently never seen any island murder movies ever, Tony thought with disgust. The wood floors creaked and the building made weird noises at night. Combined with the crashing waves, it was not what Tony called relaxing. Somebody knocked and Tony assumed it was the room service snack he'd ordered. Instead, he found a basket with a book tucked inside. Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None.
"That's not ominous," Tony muttered to himself, flipping through the pages. Then he saw the letter tucked inside.
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What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.13
a/n: hohoho the drama ensues :’)
Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi @oikawalmart-hq @extrasugafree @bbykiyoomi @apricotjihyo @awings @simpformiya @sayakaaaaaa @colorseeingchick @demursv1ogs @chrisrue15 @beanst0ck @parttime-simp @something-that-idk (i have no idea why i can’t tag some of you :( huhu )
links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 14
Was it actually them?
Blinking a dozen times, they were still standing in front of the room.
The same blonde hair with sharp red eyes. Messy dark green hair with matching soft green eyes. Both of them stared at you with utter disbelief.
If this were any reunion, it would have been amazing and bring a sense of relief. So why did seeing familiar faces cause your chest to tighten? The first instinct was to look at Akaashi but with clenched fists and a tightened jaw, it was something you couldn’t do. For the first time in a while, you activated your quirk and relaxed yourself.
Noticing how your mouth was agape, Akaashi looked at your fist. Seeing how one was faintly glowing, he couldn’t help but recall all the descriptions you had told him. Spiky blonde hair with an angry look plastered on his face, there was no doubt that was Bakugo from your world. The one with softer features and tiny bits of freckles was Deku. Breathing in a little deeper, he found strength to look away and focus on the two exchange students.
‘Shit…’ Those were the words that ran through your mind. Trying to think of possibilities as to how and why they found themselves in this world was beyond you. Startled at the sudden poke from Akaashi, you accepted the small piece of paper on his hand.
Everything will be okay.
Meeting Akaashi’s gaze, you pocketed the note and exhaled. Your quirk was not working but his small note was enough to clear your thoughts for a while. If anything, all you wanted to do was to run into his arms and feel his warmth but for now you deemed it best if the two boys did not know about the pretty setter.
When the bell rang for the free period, you stood up and stopped Akaashi from following you. With each step you took towards them, your heart beat increased.
“Deku? Bakugo?” Your voice cracked but it couldn’t be helped.
Standing from their seats, Deku was quick to turn and hug you. Hugs from Deku were no surprise but the hesitation on your part made him let go and hold onto your shoulders. Bakugo eyed you from head to toe before scanning the classroom. Each person all looked like extras to him.
“Is there any place here where we can talk in private?” Deku asked.
“The rooftop is a good option.” You had to answer. Gesturing them to follow, you could feel Akaashi’s stare as you three left the room.
The walk was silent and quick but when the sunshine hit the group you braced yourself.
“D’you have any fucking idea what’s happening?” Bakugo asked as he leaned on the wall and placed his hands in his pocket. Red colored orbs waiting for your choice of words.
“Fill me in.”
“As of the moment, your body is in a coma. Everything about you is stable but your brain activity is showing constant activity.” Deku explained. “You’ve been locked in the clinic for two months now, (n/n).”
Two months? Did time move faster here? Remembering how you felt before finding yourself in this dimension, you deduced that you had fainted and ended up being a vegetable. The concern now was what were you supposed to say or react to the news? Anything you say could be used against you and Akaashi.
Akaashi. Your heart was aching at the thought of what might happen next.
“How did you guys get here?”
“All Might helped us.” Bakugo cut off Deku. “How long have you been in this hellhole?”
“It’s not that much of a hellhole, in all honesty. Everyone here doesn’t have a quirk and crime isn’t all that bad.” You wanted to shrug but that would only make things worse. “How’s everyone?”
“Everyone’s doing well but Todoroki isn’t...”
“Half and half keeps insisting that you’ve been communicating with him through your quirk.” He stood up straight and took a few steps towards Deku and you. “Why’d you stop?”
“I never felt a response.” It was a lie but held some weight. No matter how many times you tried to flicker your quirk, the response never came. To the point where you simply gave up. Or was it because you began to favor living here?
“How many months have you been here?” Bakugo spoke slowly which was new for you.
“7 months, turning 8. Time probably moves faster here.” For a moment, all three of you were silent. If it weren’t for the bell, you were almost certain that Bakugo would have noticed how you were less enthusiastic about their arrival. Though, the walk back to the classroom was a bit stressful, you made sure to avoid the third year classrooms. Ultimately failing when you were now heading down the stairs.
“(y/n)-chan!”
Of course it just had to be him.
“Bokuto-san?” You put on a fake smile. One that made him stop in his tracks and squint his eyes. “Are you having free period?”
“Yeah! Who are these two?” He pointed to the two people accompanying you.
“They’re my friends from Musutafu. They’re exchange students and I took them for a small tour.”
“WHAAA!” Bokuto extended a hand, to which both of them accepted. “I’m Bokuto, 3rd year. Captain of the volleyball team! (y/n)-chan’s our manager and she’s been doing a pretty good job! Come watch us play later if you have time!”
“Manager?” Bakugo repeated.
“Yeah! She helps in our prepping our matches and makes Aka-”
“Bokuto-san.” You butted in. “We still have classes but I’ll try to let them watch you later, okay?”
Taken back a bit, Bokuto laughed and apologized. Letting all of you walk back to your rooms, he couldn’t help but scratch his salt and pepper hair. This was the first time you ever cut him off mid sentence. He also didn’t leave out the fact that you didn’t tell them about being a manager. Turning back and heading to the cafeteria, he made a mental note to ask Akaashi if everything was okay.
By the time you three were now seated in your respective seats, you couldn’t help but shut your eyes and let out a long exhale. Grabbing your textbook, your thoughts took over. Absentmindedly, you crumpled the paper and flattened it, only to repeat the process over and over again. Feeling Akaashi poke your arm, you took the note and read it.
What happened?
Taking your pen, you scribbled a response and kept your eyes glued on your two friends. Making sure that they wouldn’t see the small exchange you two were having.
I don’t know yet. But, I’m scared.
Will you go to practice?
I can’t. I don’t want them to know about you.
If circumstances were different, that would’ve hurt. Of course, It still did. However, he knew why. The one thing he feared about you being from another dimension was coming true. Remembering their quirks, he knew he held no chances and that gave him such a heavy weight in his chest.
For the past 6 months of dating, the thought lingered but he always brushed it off knowing the chances were low. More so when even you couldn’t provide an explanation if he asked about the worst coming true. Jaw stiffening, he scribbled a response.
Where are they staying?
I don’t know. Probably near my house if the patterns are similar.
Do you think you can sneak into my room later?
I will. I planned on doing it anyway :)
All Akaashi wanted to do was to drag you out of the room and wrap you in his arms but even he knew that would only cause things to go downhill faster. Inserting the paper into his notebook, he met your stolen glance and gave a reassuring smile. One that was enough to show he too was scared.
The hours dragged and finally the final bell rang. Once all your stuff was inside your bag, you lifted your head only to be met with Bakugo and Deku. The silence between you three made Akaashi’s mouth dry. Not wanting to stare any longer, he took his sports bag.
“See you tomorrow, (l/n)-san.” Giving you a bow, to the others as well, he left the room and fished his phone out.
“Do you guys wanna eat?” You asked as the three of you headed out the room. Heading the opposite direction Akaashi went. It felt weird. You were supposed to be going to the gym and help out Yukie and Kaori. Yet here you were, walking with two of your friends. Friends whom you wished never came. “There’s a nice cafe here where we can talk.”
“Why are you so calm?” Bakugo spat out and stopped walking.
“How else am I supposed to act? If you think that I just straight up waved the white flag and stopped looking for ways to go home, then you’re dead wrong.”
“Then why do I get the feeling that you’re too comfortable…” His brow was raised and glanced at Deku to back him up.
“I’m sorry, (n/n).” He scratched his nape. “Kacchan has a point. For the past two months, your brain activity made no sense but seeing how things are, it’s all coming together now. Sero was right. If you really wanted to go home, you wouldn’t have stopped trying to communicate with us or even just Todoroki.”
“So…” Your eyes were wide open. “You’re saying you can bring me back to our world?”
“Are you implying you don’t want to be dragged out of here?” Bakugo retorted. “It’s goddamn obvious that you’ve created bonds in this place. That was the biggest mistake you could ever make.”
“Kacchan…” Deku tried to calm the boiling anger his childhood friend was showing. “Having to live here for 7 months and avoid communication is impossible. But the thing is, we need you. The sports festival is coming up and-”
“There’s a plan to rid Shigaraki once and for all.” Bakugo inserted.
“What?” As if things couldn’t get any worse.
“You heard me. If your quirk weren’t useful, I wouldn’t give a fuck but knowing with your help and strength, things might turn out for the better.” He took a step forward. “You wanted to be a hero, right?”
“Of course I do.” You held on to his gaze despite the increasing weight on your chest.
“Bullshit.”
“Think what you will, Bakugo.” You snapped back. Both boys staring at your clenched fists. Small beacons of light shining through. Despite your trembling shoulders, your quirk managed to control the overwhelming emotion of wanting to cry. “Just give me the day and I’ll…”
Behind Bakugo and Deku, you saw Akaashi, Bokuto,and Konoha enter the hallway. All three of them stared at you.
“Just…” Holding onto Akaashi’s stare, he nodded and assured you with a small fist bump to the air. Even from this distance, you could make out how his beautiful eyes drooped with sadness. “Just give me time to…”
Realizing that your focus was somewhere else, both boys turned and stared at their new quirkless classmate. The same person who said his farewell only moments ago. When Bakugo’s gaze shifted to you, he knew it right away.
“You fucked up, (y/n).” He walked past you and made sure to bump your shoulder. “Let’s go, Deku. Someone here needs to get her priorities straight.”
Once he was sure Bakugo was out of earshot, Deku held your shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze.
“The most number of days we can stay here is 5.” He explained. “With the machines over in our world and my quirk to sustain it, it’s the longest I can muster. But, I just wanted you to be aware that your parents signed a paper.”
“For what?” You broke away from your boyfriend’s gaze and focused on Deku.
“No matter what the outcome will be, you will be forcefully brought back to life.”
“What if I don’t want to go back?”
“You, yourself, know you don’t belong here (y/n). Everyone is awaiting your return. Todoroki hasn’t left your side ever since you fainted. Momo’s heart is breaking at the situation. You don’t have much of a choice.”
“Go to Bakugo, Deku.” You adjusted the strap of your bag and began to walk away from your friend. “I gotta do something.”
Seeing as how you were making your way towards him, Akaashi was quick to move.
“Bokuto-san. I don’t think I’ll be joining practice today.”
“Is everything okay, Akaashi?”
“Sadly, it’s not.”
- - - - -
a/n: soo... important announcement :) i usually upload every monday and my drafts have caught up with the present :( my schedule was just super duper hectic this week that i wasnt able to prepare chapters in advance :( so the next update might happen two weeks from now :( hopefully, i can fit in writing in my sched T.T im sorry if yall are gonna have to wait a little longer for this one :(
but yeah~ Akaashi’s lineup is still very much open for those of you who want to be a part of this rollercoaster!
see you in a week or two! :*
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Hi! I was thinking about Bell escaping, but he's injured. Something happened when they probed his brain, and now he can't stop hallucinating things. Eventually his mind settles on Clarke. And she insists that he needs to survive. He's close to the anomaly when he collapses. and he hears her voice again. He begs the hallucination to let him die. But this time it's really Clarke who gets to him. She sits with his head in her lap, brushing his hair back and calling for the others.
Oh MAN, DO YOU GOTTA BREAK MY MOFO HURT/COMFORT HEART LIKE THAT??? But I can totally see that! You probably didn’t want anything written but I got inspired so-
After torturing him for days (or was it weeks?), he finally finds a way to get free of his restraints.
He has kept notice of when the masked doctor comes in to inject him with the serum and decides that he has to be smart about this, so he never tries anything the first few times but he knows he has to be fast.
They usually untied him for a brief moment to take care of the lacerations on his wrists that bled constantly even through the bandages because he never stopped fighting.
They got so bad, he sliced through his skin that one time, slashed the veins on his right wrist and bled for a few hours before they noticed the red puddle on the floor.
That’s when the idea came to him-he could do this again, he could pretend to be weak and wounded from the loss of blood, from the tortures, the constant nightmares or dream-like illusions they projected in his mind and then he’d attack.
It’s exactly what he did.
He almost felt bad because they send this poor younger doctor to deal with him that night, after getting probably too sick and tired of his struggling and needing a rest.
It’s easy enough for him to punch the boy in the face, then easily release his other hand and sit up.
He hadn’t estimated the simple fact that he’d spent weeks in that damn chair, he had lost weight because he refused to eat, he was dizzy from the blood loss and the world spun so fast before his eyes when he tried to stand that he staggered.
And that had been his great mistake because the young doctor wasn’t, couldn’t be as innocent as he looked.
Clarke would’ve laughed at him for being so stupid but he doesn’t have time to think about that because before he knows what he’s doing, the doctor has a gun pointed at him and he shoots.
He gets him somewhere on his right side, just below his heart, right under the place Clarke so tenderly covered once all those years ago with her small sweaty palm, telling him to use his heart and his head.
He tackles the doctor and pushes him off his way, though. Somehow he has the strength for that because he’s mad and tired and he just wants to get the fuck away from here.
The door is surprisingly unlocked and he makes it down a narrow white hallway. His hand wraps around his side and he feels the blood seep through.
Good.
He deserved it.
He’s always known he deserves to die, ever since O was discovered and he had to watch his mom being floated. He just...knew. That was the moment it all went wrong for him, that was the moment he started losing his family.
Until he found it again.
He never thought he would, least of all in a beautiful blond princess with fierce blue eyes who fought for his life in more ways than he’s ever had, who saw him for a person and not an attribute to something or someone else.
He wasn’t just a brother or a son for her.
He was Bellamy.
An entity of his own.
A shoulder not just to lean on but to fight alongside with. A friend.
And then maybe something more.
Something he’d never get to tell her now because he knows the bullet’s still stuck inside, he’s had enough injuries to last a lifetime to know when he’s doomed and he can feel it shift inside him, bury deeper in that wrecked cursed body that stumbled down the narrow hallway to a door, and then another, a turn to the left, then-the right.
He had no idea what was happening, where he was even going but he just pushed through-there had to be a way out, an exit.
He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment she appeared before his eyes. She was a constant sight this days because the people who tortured him figured out almost right away that she was the key to him.
Conjure her image enough times and he’d start getting delusional, maybe talk even though he wouldn’t want to, even though he’d fight not to, though his lips never uttered more than simply her name and a few “Come back”s even though he was the one who left her now.
And then again before when she burned like a candle in the midst of a firestorm.
He left her then.
He let himself be taken now too.
Somehow he stumbles outside.
The fresh air is so strong it hits him harder than the bullet.
This planet’s angry, as angry as he had once been back when they first landed-pure raw untamed anger that could only be quieted down to a slow murmur of his fast beating heart by a beautiful blond haired stubborn princess.
He knows he leaves a trail of blood behind him for them to follow, he can see it even now as it drips on the leaves crumpled in ugly brown forms, almost turning to dust to get scattered by the wind like he’d be soon enough.
The thought makes him smile-he could be free soon.
The pain, the misery, the constant beating up and nightmares, the dull throbbing of his heart that has now slowed down because of the blood loss, it’d all be gone and he’d be free, floating around in this universe, maybe up among the stars just like his mom’s body did when she was floated.
He wondered now if it hurt her. When he was a guard he’d use to hear stories from the other cadets about what it was like getting floated in space, how the oxygen leaves your lungs and you float through a big vast nothingness, eyes rolling to the back of your head, your brain exploding from the lack of gravity.
It seemed scary for him then.
Now he asked himself if it was less painless than getting shot in the side and slowly bleeding out.
Then again he shouldn’t complain.
He deserves the pain. He always had.
When his eyes spot something green with his periphery vision he feels his heart pick up again and he gasps when he looks straight ahead because it is the Anomaly and he knows...he knows he’ll get his one last wish come true.
He’ll see her.
That’s what keeps him walking even though he feels himself gradually getting weaker, his feet stumbling, tripping over but somehow, despite it all, he keeps pushing.
And then there she is right before him, half smiling, half serious. Her hair’s short again and she’s dressed in the ugly green suits they used back before Praimyfaya.
He smiles and reaches out to touch her.
“Clarke-” his voice breaks and just then does his body finally decide to give up on him. He trips over and falls to his knees but he tries to keep his head looking straight up at her.
The hallucination’s fast, faster than in any of his nightmares or hallucinations.
“Bellamy!” there’s something in her voice...it’s too broken too real but he knows it can’t be so he just smiles and let’s her kneel before him and grab his bloody hand.
“You’re here!” he whispers, barely keeping himself awake. “You’re here...”
“Of course I’m here! I’m so sorry it took me so long to find you!” she apologizes and he feels himself slump forward to her, thinking how he’d probably crash in the ground because she’s not real, except he doesn’t.
He ends up in her warm and strong embrace and he lets himself be held.
“Bellamy, you’re hurt-” small hands pepper all over him and she quickly finds his wound. It feels real when her small cold fingers wrap over his and color with blood. He looks down just to see how the red liquid tries to make it’s way through their fingers.
And it does.
Death always found a way. It was unforgiving, it was inevitable.
“What happened to you? What did they do?” she demands but he simply shakes his head and let’s himself fall further in her arms.
His body slumps forward and she carefully wraps an arm around his back and pushes him to her chest, voice growing significantly more panicked.
He closes his eyes for a moment, hears other voices too of people he’s never seen in his mind before-Raven...was that Miller too? They mix with hers and he lets himself drown in them for a short moment.
There’s panic, shuffling, fear-it almost feels like an honest to god perfect hallucination but he doesn’t understand how the warmth of her hand over his chest is so real, how he can hear the beating of her heart with his head pressed to her chest like that, how her ragged worried breath can fan his face.
“We need bandages! I have to wrap this up, he’s bled too much!”
“It’s okay...” he mumbles opening up his eyes and looking at Clarke’s hallucination.
She seems too...real, there’s not that tinge of white light that usually surrounds her like a halo as it was before in the light room. She’s all too perfect...too her-her cheeks are flushed red, her eyes are piercing angry blue like an ocean he’d love to drown in, her hair is a mess that moves like a hurricane with her every order.
“It’s okay, this is good. You don’t have to fight...I’m okay.” he mumbles and feels blood filling his mouth. She looks down at him, eyes filling with tears falling down her cheeks and ending up on his face.
That is his first cue that something’s wrong...because he can feel it.
He can feel her pain as much as he can feel his own.
“It’s good, you can let me go..” he adds and lets his hand fall from his wound.
“NO!” she screams and it’s gutteral, it’s horrifying, making him wince. “NO! You’re not dying, Bellamy!”
He closes his eyes for a brief moment then and thinks this over-he can feel her fingers wrapped tightly around his arm, holding him half up, he can tell the places her tears burned down his skin like acid rain, he can tell how stubbornly she is covering the bullet wound,but most of all-
He can hear her.
His Clarke.
It was her voice. It must be her voice, right?
He opens up his eyes again and reaches to cup her cheek, leaving a bloody strain on her cheek, cursing himself internally.
“Clarke?” he asks breathlessly “Is it really you?” she nods, letting her tears go as she bows her head down to his chest and soaking his shirt.
“You’ll be okay.” she promises when she looks at him again, his hand falls from her face, feeling too heavy, too tired and he smiles. “You’ll be fine.”
He doesn’t say anything, refuses to cause her any more pain than he already is-if this is real and...he knows now that it is, he just needs her, nothing else.
It takes him everything to make his hand move again only to wrap around hers that’s covering his wound. He gently picks it up and puts it on his cheek. She cries out once more and lets her head fall closer to his face, her hair shielding them from the rest of the world, her nose brushing against his.
“Just-” he speaks up but he coughs blood and a few of the drops land on her face, he feels it tickle down his chin and she stubbornly wipes it off with her sleeve “Just hold me.”
“Don’t go!” she begs “Please, don’t go! You can’t-”
“It’s fine.”
“IT’S NOT! Stop saying that!” she bursts out and he smiles as he feels her hand move to his hair, roaming through his curls, leaving a trail of red from his own blood. “You’re not leaving me again, you hear me?”
He just leans his head closer to her heart, letting the beat lull him, calm him down.
“Do you hear me, Bellamy? You fight for me,okay?”
“Okay” he says but it comes out resigned, slow, almost way too broken and desperate. “Alright, princess.” he doesn’t open his eyes again as much as he wants to but he does feel her fingers move to brush his tears and her hand ending up on his wound again, trying to stop the blood from spilling even more out of his body.
He hears her bark orders, ask for help, bandages, but he feels his body arch with the pain and he commands himself not to yell so he doesn’t scare her anymore.
Instead he flails his poor shaky hand in the air, looking for hers.
He doesn’t expect her to catch him. After all, maybe this was still a hallucination, maybe it was yet another evil dream fabricated by the people of Bardo.
And then he feels cold bony fingers wrap around his.
He smiles to himself.
Even if he dies, he knows he’ll be okay.
He was home.
#bellarke fanfiction#bellarke#bellamy blake#clarke griffin#hurt/comfort#season 7#canon divergent fic#elora-lane#answered#sorry idk if you wanted me to write anything LOL#i just ended up doing so#it totally sucks and i am so sorry#god i need to stop trying this writing thing#im so horrible at it
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Wife?!
Title: Wife?!
Pairing: Alastor x Fem! Reader
Fandom: The Hazbin Hotel
Genre: Fluff, Humor, SMUT
Masterlist
Warnings: Mentions of Substance Abuse, Sex, and Murder
Notes: I do know that these characters are amazing themselves but! I will give credit to the amazing Creators that have Created the Hazbin Hotel!!
And Yes I am aware that Alastor is asexual but! For those fangirls! Out there that like this deer demon I write and you shall receive!
Summary: During a conversation with Alastor The subject of love then comes up to which he replies. "Married" to which The members of the Hazbin Hotel Begin to wonder who this mysterious partner is.
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"Okay Okay So Let me get this right.. Princess is running a hotel to purify the demons here? And all she has for help is her best friend, Radio Demon, P0rnstar over there, Happy one eye demon, And Me?" Husk Cackled. Husk's Comment caused Charlie to sigh, Vaggie to roll her eyes, Alastor to smile, Angel Dust to nod, and Niffty to giggle. Husk groaned and slammed his face onto the table.
"While were all here have any of you been in love?" Charlie asked. This caused everyone to stop what they were doing. Even Alastor which caught the interest of Vaggie.
"Yeah When have any of you been in love or liked someone?" Vaggie Continued. The cat like demon had then laughed.
"I had lost the ability to love years ago so that's a no" He rolled his eyes and drank from the bottle labeled cheap booze.
"That would be never unless you count helping!" Niffty beamed.
The two nodded then it was now Alastor's turn to be pestered. The team of Co-Workers had now turned to the red deer demon.
"What is it not my turn to answer the qiestion?" Alastor Chuckled. The demons had nodded. "Married" he stated simply and walked away to find a popsicle. The demons mouths hung open in shock.
"Well who is it?" Charlie had gushed. Alastor turned towards the demon princess and grinned. "That is for me to know and for you all not to know .. now who wants some Jambalaya!" Alastor had replied suddenly changing topics.
--
The day had ended at the hazbin hotel and it was time for everyone to head home.
By everyone I meant Alastor. He had waved goodbye to everyone and made his way home. He opened the door to be greeted by his cheerful wife.
"Welcome back Alastor!" She chirped as he walked through the door while she had gotten up from the floor from washing it. He smiled and closed the door behind him. He grinned at his adorable wife and showered her with kisses. She giggled and returned the kisses. He smiled at her.
"So how was helping the hotel?" She asked with a smile on her face. He laughed and pecked her cheek.
"Why it was wonderful! Why I hadn't had that much fun since we had gotten together!" He laughed. She smiled at him.
"Honey?" "Yes Sweetheart?" "Can I take a bath together if that's Alright with you.." she smiled sheepishly twidling her fingers. He grinned picking her up off the ground setting his cane somewhere else nodding.
"Of course!" He exclaimed. She blushed and pecked his cheek.
"Thank you Alastor!" She giggled.
He set her down on her feet as she ran a bath.
I began to slip off my clothes. I blushed feeling the gaze of my husband. I covered myself. "Alastor!" I blushed. He tilted his head in confusion.
"Its not like I haven't seen you like this before!" He smirked. I blushed turning away from him. He chuckled.
I stopped the water before it had overflowed the bathtub. I then had stepped in. I whimpered feeling the warm water touch my body. I looked at my husband who was not smiling but in shock at the sound I had made because of the water.
I blushed and looked away.
"Sweetheart maybe I need to show you how good I can make you feel" he whispered. I blsuhed again. He then had stepped in behind me. I blushed feeling his chest against my back. His hands on my shoulders pulling me back against his chest. I turned my head to look at him as he grinned. His head leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on my forehead.
---
"Wow Alastor has sure been happier this week hasn't he?" Charlie smiled at the red deer demon. Vaggie rolled her eyes at the mention of his name.
"So who do you think it could be?" Angel sat next to the ladies. The trio had began their many theories of who it could be.
"Hm.. Hey Charlie?" "Yea?" "Remember a girl named Y/n?" Vaggie asked. Charlie nodding still not catching onto what she was trying to imply. Vaggie sighed as in saying 'Nevermind'.
---
"Oh Alastor!! Yes!!" I had cried out. Alastor grinned above me.
"Couldn't hear you sweetheart~" he teased. My hands gripping the sheets below me. My back was currently being massaged by my husband after I had cleaned all day.
"Feeling better?" He whispered. I nodded frantically. His hands kneading out the knots in my back. My quick breaths confirming the pleasure.
"Honey.. Thank you for kneading them out" I smiled at him. He grinned his mischievous grin and peppered my bare back with kisses. I blushed at the contact of his lips on my skin.
--
"Could it really be her?" Charlie mumbled in a daze hoping her friend that had gone missing in the demon world wouldn't. Vaggie shrugged her shoulders.
"Now what are my favorite ladies yamming on about?~" Angel smiled eating a popsicle from the fridge. His sudden appearance caused the two females to turn to the pornstar.
"Perfect timing! Angel! You've been here longer than me.. Do you know anything about a demon named Y/n?" Charlie asked with puppy dog eyes hoping to get any information on her missing friend.
The spider had shaken his head no. The two females sighed and groaned in disappointment. This had caused the two to catch Angel's attention.
"Why do you two wanna know anyways?"
"Because we believe that she might be HIS wife"- "theoretically speaking"
"Ah!~ then maybe we can conduct an experiment!" Angel gave a grin that had almost rivaled Alastor's.
--
"Honey where are you?" Alastor had called out. I jumped from the bed and grabbed a pillow covering my body that was only covered by my under garments with it. The door to the bedroom had opened and there stood Alastor. His mouth hanging open in shock at my state.
"Sweetheart~if that's what you needed then you could've just called~" he chuckled loosening his bowtie. I gulped in nervousness. He then was left in his undergarments. He crawled over to me and kisses my nose with a soft smile. He took the pillow tossing it somewhere else. I blushed as he lied me down on our bed.
I instantly knew where this was headed.
--
The trio had groaned books scattered everywhere on the ground.
Leaving not a single page unturned or looked at.
"F*cling Sh!t! We've been at this for hours! How much longer!" Angel groaned in despair.
Charlie simply giggled at the spiders action.
"As long as we have to to leave Alastor in shock!" Vaggie seethed gripping a book.
"Well what forms of contact or things have you noticed about Alastor?" Nifty spoke.
The trio jumped and looked at the small one eyed creature.
Suddenly the three had gained a lightbulb.
"Say.. Nifty!" Charlie called for the small one.
Nifty peeled up being called to and rushed over to Charlie.
"Yes Ms.Charlie?" She chirped.
"Do you have any idea who Alastor's wife is?" Vaggie had asked curiosity glinting in her eyes.
The small female nodding with delight.
"The Miss?! Oh she's so kind.. wonderful.. and very tidy! As well as good to Alastor!" She gushed.
This had confirmed the suspicions of the trio but more so of the original duo.
--
"Oh dont stop please!!" I moaned. Alastor smirked at my form. My upper half against the mattress while my lower half was up in the air. I was a moaning mess.
"I dont plan to~" he purred. His his rocked back and forth into mine. His hands on my hips. My legs were now taking a life of it's own and were in sync with Alastor's. My hands gripped the sheets below me.
Suddenly the phone rang. We both jumped in suprise. I looked at Alastor in confusion as I shrugged and grabbed the phone answering the call.
"Oh hello Charlie! I havent spoken to you in awhile!" I exclaimed with joy. His hips had began rocking against mine again. I looked at him in alarm. He only winked witha devious grin. I continued my conversation with the princess as Alastor continued with our scandalous lovemaking
"Well then if that's all then goodbye!" I chirped hanging up the phone call. I let out soft pants.
"You did very well sweetheart~! Now let's give you a reward!" He exclaimed. I tilted my head in confusion. I was then above him as he sat up. He then guided my hips up and down. I moaned at the new feeling. My hands on his shoulders, head thrown back. His hips snapping upwards. My soft moans now bouncing off the walls.
His arms wrapped around my waist holding me down on his lap as his thrusts were continuously violent.
My soft moans were now screams.
-------
The door had opened to the Hazbin Hotel in the cold of the morning.
The bells had jingled.
The red deer demon had walked his way into the hotel humming happily.
The tune that he had always hummed
TO HIS BELOVED
Suddenly the trio that had now turned into a quartet that jumped out at him with an accusing finger.
"YOU!" They all Yelled their fingers still pointed at the red head.
He tilted his head with s confused smile.
"Me?" "Yes you!"
Then a lightbulb had gone off in Alastor's head. He simply gave his signature grin and headed towards the kitchen and to prep the meal for the clients that would hopefully come into the hotel.
--
The doors had opened and in walked the demon of the hour.
Y/n.
"H-Hello?" She had meekly called out into the dark hallway of the hotel.
"Heya sweetcheeks Looking for something?" Angel had grinned at her from behind the counter.
The female looked up at him with a sweet smile and nodded.
This simple action caused the spider demon to blush but shook his head.
"Ask away!"
"Is the Radio Demon Alastor Here by chance?" Her voice as sweet as honey had echoed throughout the hotel.
This caused the not-so-busy hotel to stop their actions and, turn to the female.
The spider had nodded and lead her towards the kitchen.
The female had grinned and thanked the spider.
"Thank you- "Angel..AngelDust"
"Thank you AngelDust!"
"No problem Sweetcheeks"
The female then took a few steps into the kitchen to be met with Alastor.
"Honey?"
"Sweetheart what are you doing here?"
"I came to bring you lunch.."
"I KNEW IT!!!!" Vaggie yelled out in excitement.
The couple had jumped and turned towards the door. There stood the entire staff of the Hazbin Hotel.
---
A/n: I feel like this was also Rushed as Well!
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Working with triplets had it’s ups and downs. Some days it was ok, if Hank had to swap partners and work with Niles it wasn’t too odd and he easily adapted to it, the connection to Connor giving him more than enough info to make things work smooth. On the other hand there were days like a few months back where LN Allen mistook Connor for Collin, giving him a mocha to start the day off just like he always did. He found out fast that not only was this not Collin but that Connor did *not* agree with cinnamon. Needless to say, the Lieutenant had to take some time off to recover.
Between the three humans, the androids saw a lot of each other, and for that reason now found themselves crowed into Connor’s own place, the home meant more for three than six. But that was ok, the androids weren’t all that picky about things like that.
There wasn’t all that special a reason they were there that night, other than a solved joint case that had been driving Niles and Connor up the walls like spiders. So a family night was decided, and the androids brought along for the ride. Seeing as they all couldn’t fit in the kitchen the bots chilled out at the table, curiously watching the mayhem unfolding between the three. They had no idea what they were making, and in truth they don’t think the humans knew what the other was doing either.
They each finished on their own, returning to the androids with the most asinine choices for dinner the bots has seen yet. They each saw red, Gavin being the brightest and first to speak up.
“Detective, that is not healthy. At all” If he had been deviant he might have cringed at the parfait the man had gone with, a bowl no less. To Niles right the GV could see Connor cringing.
“Man, you could kill a elephant with that much sugar. What are you? An ant in human clothes?” The man looked close to gagging seeing the treat his brother was getting into. Gavin would have been too had he not still been trying to calculate the sugar intake of Niles “food”.
Niles stuck his tongue out at him, taking a bite before talking. “Says the man eating lava, the amount of times I had to cancel searches for dragon peppers from your laptop are absurd.”
There was a gasp, Connor’s hands hitting the table and making the androids jump. “YOU WERE THE ONE DOING THAT?! YOU ASSHOLE.” Despite his outburst Niles was laughing.
Hank’s led blared as red as whatever Connor was eating. “But that has a rating of 2,480,000... That can be harmful.” He stuck a note to his hud to keep track of the man’s search history, lest he harm himself.
“Damn it I will try it and no one is going to stop me!” He punctuated the end by shoving a whole fork full of noodles into his mouth.
Quiet the whole time, Allen nearly spooked them when he finally piped up. “Lieutenant, what precisely are you eating right now?” All this talk of the man’s diet now had him skeptical that what Connor ate now was even safe, possibly less safe than what Niles was eating.
“Fire noodles.” The human made it sound like the simplest thing in the world, even grinning as he heard Niles hissing at that from the side. Clearly the man didn’t like it one bit.
“Shit’s making my nose burn from over here. You are less human than the androids.” Collin’s comment got Hank’s attention, prompting him to grab a noodle to test it.
While Hank couldn’t really taste, per-say, even his sensors went wild with information about the heat his wild partner was eating like it was nothing. Warnings screeched in the red of his vision until it all but melted under the strain of the alarm the info sent though him, a look of shock crossing his face.
“Holy shit, Con. It’s so bad you even freaked out an android. Congrats, you disaster.” Hank ignored him as he threw his head back laughing, damn near praying to RA9 that he can get the man some help.
“And what the hell are you having? I know damn well you tend to eat like a drunk. Or pregnant.” The leer Niles gave could almost freeze a man, pinning his surprised brother in his seat.
He hesitated for the longest of moments, which was enough to get everyone else staring at him as well. “Shrimp... with... with cajeta.”
There was a confusion at first, the humans having no idea what that was and the androids looking it up. Hank almost glitches out as he realizes what it is, Gavin fairing no better beside him. The poor android’s programming, unable to keep up with the mess he just saw, crashed like it was an old XP pc and his face fell into horror.
“That... That... sweetened caramelized goat's milk... Oh RA9 save me.” Gavin was out of his seat in an instant to hide behind Hank, followed by the shrieks of of the other two brothers grabbing their bowls and jumping from the table. Allen remained strangely undisturbed, perhaps used to it by now but he was definitely getting errors.
“WHAT kind of unholy abomination are you?!” Connor looked read to fight him, and the HK was prepared to stop him if need be, but didn’t think it would come to that seeing as they kind of already knew Collin was being nasty.
Dropping his bowl on the counter Niles stormed into the kitchen, hollering out. “I’M CALLING A FUCKING PRIEST YOU DEMON.”
Hank thought that might be a bit of an overreaction but guessed he was just being dramatic so he didn’t follow the man. Still, he was stuck on horror between the three’s diets and the face the LN hadn’t moved an inch during all this. Maybe he just started tuning everything out when everyone started bickering?
Coming back into the room Niles took his treat to eat again, not taking his eyes off Collin even as he kept eating the weird food mix the man chose. The quiet lasted long enough to get half though the food before the bell rang.
Allen was the one to get up to answer the door, the only one not caring for the staring contest happening in the dining room. What greeted him had his led finally screaming as red as his programming. Standing at the steps, as cheery as can be, stood a priest. A actual priest. It took him longer than he would like to admit to realise Niles hadn’t been joking when he went into the kitchen.
He should have said something, but he just couldn’t. Instead, he left the door open and turned on his heels, charging though the red telling him to greet the man to stomp back into the room. “You actually called a real priest?”
Niles shrugged as the man let himself in, without any kind of warning as he dumped holy water onto Collin’s head, causing the man to yell out in frustration and try to keep it from getting in his food. “I do hope you will go to church after this.” The grin on his face was enough to say he was amused however, and he waved to his caller.
“Thanks, Kamski. Sorry to call you this late.” He sure as hell wasn’t sorry, not with how he grinned and ate his sweets.
Waving him off, Kamski laughed, starting back out the door. “Don’t worry about it~ You always have something fun when you call me up.” Allen was just glad the man closed the door after himself.
As he three bothers glared at each other, the androids could only spin red in the realization they each had a mess of a human on their hands.
#Dbh Gavin#Dbh Allen#Dbh Hank#Dbh Connor#Dbh Sixty#Dbh Nines#dbh kamski#dumb ways to deviate#Ninegeddon#I'm sorry if this comes off crackish it just made me laugh#and that's half the point in what I write#Sixty's dinner curtsy of discord
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The Swordsmen Aligned
SSSS.Dynazenon: We see Yomogi's perspective on the change to DynaRex and the battle climax. Chise, running to catch up to Dynazenon, finds an odd item. Dynazenon returns to being 4 small models as she catches them. Gauma is still annoyed at Yume. Introductions are made, and he explains Shalbandes will have been controlled by the Kaiju Eugenecists, Kaiju users like him. He gives each of the pilots one Dynazenon component, insisting they meet next day to train, but wonders to himself if Dynazenon is a Kaiju and why was he given it. Things are a mess at school, Yomogi heads to work, Yume messes with her friend, Koyomi wonders if Dynazenon counts as a job. Gauma is upset Yomogi doesn't show, a sparkling item appears in the river. Gauma invades Yomogi's bath to talk, in her own Yume contemplates apologising, Gauma is invited by Yomogi's mom to stay over. Next day Yume shows Yomogi she can now activate the DynaWing, has him activate DynaSoldier, and has them combine into "DynaWingSoldier", while they fly she makes an apology, and shows him the result of the battle on foot. On the train she mentions Kaho dying by where they met when she was a kid. People gather at a new Kaiju, Greyjom, called by the thing in the river, watched by the Eugenecists, Juuga, Onija, Mujina and Sizumu, Juuga controls it. The heroes grab Yomogi so Dynazenon can fight, but when they're forced to split Yomogi is helpless until Koyomi realises the secret to it warping, and by again forming DynaSoldier Wing Combine they are able to give Gauma his shot. Yomogi asks Yume about her feelings towards Kaho, she's unsure now. The Eugenecists greet Gauma, appearing to the team.
Heroes' Odyssey: The look at Battle in Hyperspace continues.
Saber: Rintaro explains what he learned about Master Logos and his goals, and earnestly apologises, but they all welcome him back with open arms. Zooous is itching to settle his score with Rintaro, but Storious insists the Seiken and joining Wonder World comes first, Zooous has a new Megido in mind. Northern Base discuss their foes, Yuri apparently hasn't encountered Kaiji before. Master Logos' book is part of the original book, passed to each new Master, Yuri, deciding Touma can separate the Megiddo, goes to seek Tassel, Sophia has Ogami find Ren while she will meet Kento. After mentioning the key she gave Mei, a Megiddo is detected. Saber Elemental Primitive Dragon and Blades King Lion Daisenki fight the Megiddo, Touma about to separate when he notices the charms on it's body are living humans, then reveals it's host is Mei, escaping when Zooous attacks Blades. Rintaro is really freaking out about the chance of Mei dying. Since we last saw him, it looks like Ren has been followed by Desast, who suggests he learn from him, Desast vanishes when Ogami appears, Ren lashes out and leaves. Rintaro finds Mei on the roof, Zooous attacks, joined by the Megiddo, despite Rintaro's desire to save her Nagare doesn't glow, Zooous torments him claiming he always gets stronger. Kento nearby says that Mei will be lost and Rintaro killed, Sophia tries to get him to not be so defeatist, Touma arrives to help Rintaro. Rintaro sinks into depression, but holds Zooous so Touma can act, but he has to block the killing blow instead, as Zooous and the Megiddo leave, Rintaro acts as though his own life is worthless.
Zenkaiger: Magine is really messy it turns out. Vroom discovers while out the mess made by Gomi World. The team actually force him to flee, but his trash will keep growing. Boccowaus is actually annoyed at Barashitara for this because he doesn't want to rule a garbage world, Ijirude is still working. The team prepare a clean up, but Vroon makes more progress than the rest combined and decides to take it solo. New character Stacey makes his first appearance, as Kaito starts declaring his resolve everyone is sapped of their will. Magine still has energy, and Vroon powers through and draws Gomi World out. The others get placed as trash, leaving Vroon beaten until Magine finds him. After some Go-Busters power, they defeat Gomi World. Dai Gomi World is defeated despite initial setbacks. Barashitara contemplates another lost World when Stacey approaches, claiming to be his son. With this episode we are now caught up the the All Red Battle and ZenkaiRed special, ready for what comes next episode.
Genms: So somehow despite Kamen Rider Brain happening, I somehow never expected this to be real. Not unhappy with it though. Don't expect Thousers The Presidents to be real as a separate thing though. Super Sentai Villains Next Year? Now obviously, in the original joke the meaning of the title was that it was to focus on Kutoto, Masamune, Amagasaki and Tsukuru, here though the double meaning makes it a reference to both Kuroto and Amatsu being company presidents. My understanding on timeline setting is that for Zero-One this is between the two installments of The 01hers, and for Ex-Aid it's about a year after Another Ending and a couple of years before Mighty Novel X. Kuroto is awakened by the Ark. Amatsu is launching a new company, Thouser-Intellion, and to help him acquired a Secretary-type Humagear, who he names Rin. He explains that ZAIA Enterprise Japan was shut down, and he intends to create a new IT company. He's been under the weather since moving to the office, and suddenly shows Bugster Virus symptoms, as Dan Kuroto emerges. Ark has apparently allowed him to produce a Gamer Driver, Bugvisor and Proto Mighty Action X, and he relates his awareness of the sort of pressure Amatsu must experience as President, as he once did. He infects Rin and takes her as his own secretary. Kuroto, you should only have been gone a year, Humagears were everywhere by the time you "died". As Amatsu struggles to pursue Kuroto, he doesn't notice another figure emerge from himself. Kuroto tries to tempt Rin when Amatsu reaches them, becoming Thouser, black due to infection, and Kuroto becomes Genm Level 2. Genm has the clear advantage, with a Mighty Critical Strike beating Thousand Destruction. Genm's killing blow is foiled when time suddenly freezes, and Dan Masamune appears on the scene.
Dogengers Nice Buddy: We start with an acknowledgement of the events of the first series, and the Dogengers becoming celebrated, a second season announced, and then Scandal! Kitaqman's SNS-ing, El Brave using a step to appear taller, Fukuokaliber not being good at Kendama, Yamashiron not eating Bell Peppers, Ohgaman not sleeping after taking his medicine, and a dating scandal involving Tanaka and Yuki, the team are made to apologise, and a Final Stage is announced at a park. Shaberryman MCs, the audience is just Yuki, Eboshi Musha and El Brave's Yahata Construction colleagues. Fukuokaliber beats some Karamis, then faces Shuraomaru. Aoiron and Daidairon take the stage fighting Nectaris, Redron joins late, then forms Yamashiron, still in Tsuyobi Mode. El Brave takes over, beating first Nectaris then Uzagi. The Marou Kaijin appear, Tanaka appears, changes and swiftly defeats Gulf, the heroes then celebrate but Yabai Kamen ambushes them, but Ohfaman appears via roller coaster. The assembled heroes defeat the Villains and celebrate, disheartened by the small crowd as Yuki is handed adverts for Great Z. After a certain man says something the heroes are knocked off stage by a red energy ball, and the stage is taken by Great Z and his cheerleaders, accompanied by at least 3 floating cameras(?) which can warp him along the stage. The devices come from his back. The audience seem far more interested in him. He knows who they, but he's hear to take their villains for his own show, really beating Yabai Kamen so he can take him hostage. Kitaqman rolls up late in the Kitaq Machine, but Great Z uses a rocket to warp them all to a quarry, explaining his Effect System, announces himself as the new justice, and shoots and destroys the Kitaq Machine, to Kitaqman's Horror.
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all the world’s a stage (whumptober - stay with me)
Tony takes uneasy steps.
He’s in an auditorium, no—he’s in a theater, and it seems to warp around the edges of his eyes when he tries to look around, hiding its secrets from him, phasing in and out of his vision like a trick. He wishes Strange was here—Strange could portal him to where he wanted to be, stop all the bullshit. He wishes he had a fucking suit.
His mouth tastes like metal, but he’s not bleeding.
He has the inclination to talk to Friday, to demand an outline of the building, signs of life, where the fucking bad guy is—who is he after again?—but he’d just be bitching out into the void, because it’s just him, just flesh and blood, just human weakness. He doesn’t even have a gun.
All he knows is that he has to find them. He has to find them—them, which them, who—Pepper. Pepper, Rhodey, Happy. And Peter. Peter. He’s gotta protect the kid.
(the kid can protect himself, but not now, not right now, something’s wrong, Tony knows it)
Jesus, Tony’s head hurts. He feels like his limbs are locking up, and he’s gotta stay loose, he’s gotta stay alert.
The first one he runs across is Happy. He’s splayed out on the ground in the main lobby, and the place looks like it’s been through an explosion, black burn streaks on the walls and all over the ground. Happy’s got blood on his face, running across his eyebrow. Tony rushes over, kneeling next to him, helping him sit up. They both groan, and Tony feels like his own heartbeat is being played over loudspeakers. Booms like earthquakes.
“Hap,” Tony says, supporting the back of Happy’s head. “What the hell is going on, are you alright? Jesus—”
“Tony,” Happy says, latching onto Tony’s arm, wincing. “You gotta keep going—”
“Keep going?” Tony asks, narrowing his eyes. He feels insane, he’s gotta take care of this—whatever the hell is happening. He wets his lips. “You’re bleeding, big man, where’s everybody else? I can’t—” He shakes his head, and he’s just about done with this shit, because he can’t remember why he’s here, what’s going on, who he’s chasing. And now Happy’s hurt, and the others—he knows the others are here too, he doesn’t know why he knows but he knows, and it feels like alarm bells are going off, like there are hands all over him. Blinking red lights. He gets a flash of whiteness, of brightness, and he feels like he’s sinking. Quicksand. Like he can’t breathe. “Happy,” Tony says, trying to refocus. “Talk to me, talk to me, we gotta get the hell outta here, where’s everybody else?”
“Tony, I’m—I’m okay,” Happy says. He pinches the bridge of his nose, and he looks far from okay. “Shit, he rattled my brain in my head, but I’m—I’m alright. I’m alright.”
Tony remembers when he almost lost him, years back, before whatever year they’re in now—he remembers the sterility of that hospital, how Happy looked lying there, the dark welts and bruises—Tony swallows hard, tightens his grip on him.
“You need to keep looking,” Happy says. “Pep, Rhodey, the kid—they’re all here. They’re trapped.”
That sends some kind of potent horror through Tony’s chest, and he nods, helping Happy to his feet. “Get outside,” Tony says, holding steady eye contact. “Call the others in—Steve, Nat, Clint—get Bruce to Hulk out, I don’t care, just get them here. Whoever you can, whoever answers.”
Happy nods, gives him a long look, and then he goes, heading for the exit.
It’s like time skips, and Tony gets another flash of whiteness, gets another taste of metal, like it’s coating his tongue. Fresh paint. He feels like he’s sinking in acid, his skin eating away, and he looks down at his hands—they’re still there, everything’s still normal. He’s here, he’s here, solid, scared. Fear prickles all over him, and he doesn’t wanna be afraid like this when his people need him.
He’s standing in the middle of the aisle now, inside the theater itself. The ground looks old, the chairs moth-eaten, the once grand lights creaking and swinging, like they’re ready to come crashing down.
The whole place is crumbling.
“What the fuck is going on?” he mutters, trying to get that taste out of his mouth.
“Tony,” Pepper’s voice says.
Tony turns around on the spot, ears pricked up, chills running through him. “Pep?” he calls. “Pep? Pep? Where are you?” He turns around again, and doesn’t see her anywhere, his heart raging and dipping, stuttering—metal, metal in his mouth. An ache at the base of his skull. His arms heavy and useless, chopped and wrenched from his body.
“Pepper!” he yells, voice rough with emotion and the grit of his fear. Then he sees her—he takes a few harried steps towards the stage—and he’s horrified.
She’s supporting Rhodey, who’s barely walking on his own two feet, and it looks like she’s—it looks like she’s burned, her clothes ripped in a few places, her skin charred and blistering.
“Baby,” he breathes, out of his own accord, and he stumbles over to her and Rhodey, unsure who to touch first. He’s useless, he’s fucking useless, and he needs backup, he needs backup yesterday. He grabs Pepper’s arm, somewhere there isn’t a wound, and Rhodey’s shoulder, quickly lowering them to the ground.
“What happened?” Tony whispers, too afraid to raise his voice, though he wants to, he wants to start wailing—for help, in pain, and his stomach is pangs of panic. “Pep, what—”
She leans her forehead on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around her, still holding onto Rhodey with his other hand. “There was a fire,” she says, breathing deeply, like she’s still recovering from it. “He fell, he fell so far, and I could barely get out of it—”
“Rhodey,” Tony says, and he reaches over, tips Rhodey’s chin up with his hand. “Look at me, c’mon—”
“We were in the rafters,” Pepper says, and she shoves herself closer to him, wincing. “He was everywhere, Tony, he’s—I don’t know about this guy—”
“Rhodes, eyes up,” Tony says, a little more assertive, his heart in his throat now.
“Tones, I’m—I’m okay—”
Tony wilts a little bit, dizzy and swaying, and he glances over the two of them, trying to take it all in, and the more he looks, the sicker he feels. He’s gotta get them out of here, how the fuck can this be happening, he’s gotta get them safe, he’s gotta get them safe—
“You two gotta go,” Tony says, looking up and around, trying to make sure they aren’t gonna get ambushed. “Is the building still on fire?”
“No,” Pepper says, still nuzzling into his neck, and he doesn’t wanna let go of her, of either of them. Rhodey, falling—shit, that can’t happen again, that cannot happen—and a fucking fire, Pepper hurt—Tony can’t think, he can’t, he needs his damn suit—
“Okay, Pep, can you get him out of here?” Tony asks, leaning away a bit so he can look at her. Jesus, she’s got so many burns, some covering her arms like a charcoal sheet, and Tony feels like he’s gonna throw up. “You got a straight shot, honey, go right up the aisle and into the lobby, out the door, get as far away from this place as possible. I sent Happy the same way.”
“Did you call for backup?” Rhodey asks, looking up and meeting his eyes. He doesn’t look good. His eyes are bloodshot, unfocused, and Tony is this close to dissolving into hysterics. Everyone here, everyone that’s hurt, missing, are the closest people to him. The most important people in his life. He can’t picture the fucking bad guy’s face, though he knows he’s seen him. He’s stepped in shadow. He’s threatening everything Tony holds dear, and Tony can’t fucking stand for that shit.
“I did,” Tony says, grabbing onto both of them and straining to get them back to their feet. “Or, I told Happy to, which is just as good.”
“I don’t like you in here on your own,” Pepper says. “I don’t wanna leave you—”
“You gotta,” Tony says, and he leans in, presses a long kiss to the corner of her mouth. She’s still hot all over, and he’s terrified. “I gotta go find the kid. Go straight out, I’ll be right behind once I have him—”
“Tony,” Rhodey says, clearly trying not to put all of his weight on Pepper as Tony urges them forward, towards the door. “This guy, he’s—”
Tony hears white noise over the next few words out of Rhodey’s mouth, a high pitched tone going off in his ears. He steps closer to them, trying to listen, but he only hears thrashing, sees the flashes of white again. He thinks he hears voices coming from the walls. His own body trembling, even though he’s not, even though he’s—standing here. Still.
He tastes the metal. He wants to watch them go, wants to make sure they’re safe, but his head throbs like something hard hit him, and he squeezes his eyes shut tight. The world is all darkness, the kind of darkness that ate at him before he woke up and found a hole in his chest, the kind that shakes like electrocution, and he needs a suit, he needs a suit, this asshole, whoever he is, he did something to this place, did something to Tony—
He opens his eyes when he hears Peter’s voice.
He’s backstage now, and this looks worse—water stained walls, moldy curtains falling, wires tangled up like spider webs. But there’s—there’s a massive glass tank in front of him, full of water, and he sees Peter himself standing at the top of a moldering ladder behind it. His hands are cuffed in front of him, and he’s breathing hard, fear in his eyes.
There’s someone shadowy behind him, a hand on his shoulder.
“Let him go, asshole,” Tony says, tremors in his voice. All the others are out. They’re safe, but Peter—Peter’s in danger, and Tony doesn’t have a suit. This is all on a hair trigger. He could fuck it up. He could fuck it up, and Peter could—no, Tony can’t think about that. It can’t happen. Not again. “Let him go, take me.”
“No, Tony—” Peter starts, but then the shadowy dickhead yanks him backwards by his hair.
Tony takes a step forward without thinking about it, in pure rage.
Then he sees the man’s face.
It’s—it’s him. It’s himself. It’s him, Tony fucking Stark, and the doppelgänger grins when he sees confusion pass over Tony’s face. The double looks at Peter menacingly. He doesn’t say anything, nothing at all. The silence is thick and stifling.
“What the hell is this?” Tony yells, his mind jumping to all kinds of conclusions, his heart skipping beats. His doppelgänger has a Cheshire grin, and it unnerves Tony, especially with him so close to Peter.
And then he dumps Peter into the water, slamming the top closed.
“No!” Tony yells, watching the water fill with bubbles as Peter thrashes around. Tony weaves around the tank, tries to chase after the doppelgänger, but he’s nowhere to be found, lost in the shadows like he was before. Tony curses to himself, freaking the fuck out, and he rushes up the ladder, one of the rungs breaking under his feet. He keeps going. “Hold on, kid, hold on,” Tony yells, wondering if Peter can even hear him—
The top is locked. Tony tries and he tries and he tries to peel it up, but he fucking can’t because he’s not strong enough—
Metal, blood in his mouth—
He jumps down, moving back around to the front of the tank, and he sees Peter slamming his wrists into the glass, trying to break it. Tony nods, not watching the way Peter is holding his breath, like a child at a swimming pool—and he glances around, finds a crowbar on the ground, covered in a fine sheen of dust. Tony grabs it, rushes back, starts hitting the same point on the glass that Peter’s working on.
A flash of white walls. Talking. Static.
“Stay with me, Pete,” Tony says, slamming the end of the crowbar into the glass, over and over and over. “Stay with me, stay with me.”
Peter keeps hitting it too, with the hardness of the handcuffs, but then a line of bubbles comes out of his mouth. His eyes go wide, his brows furrowed, his blows getting a little less forceful. But he’s still trying. Over and over and over.
“No, no, no,” Tony says, hitting harder, harder. That tone goes off in his ears again, just loud enough that he can still hear himself pleading. “Fucking no, no, no way. Stay with me, Peter, c’mon, kid, c’mon.”
Peter’s body convulses once, and he paws at the glass with both hands.
The world shakes at the edges of Tony’s vision, darkening. He can only see Peter.
“Come on, goddamnit, break,” Tony says, slamming into the glass harder, harder, watching it splinter under the crowbar’s hits.
Peter’s eyes are full of fear, and Tony feels like his heart is gonna explode. This can’t happen it can’t happen, and the kid shudders again, one hand reaching for his own throat, the other straining against the handcuffs, still trying to reach for Tony. He trembles, wincing. He convulses again, his mouth gaping open.
Tony knows what drowning feels like. He’s been water boarded. And this is so much fucking worse. Peter is in pain. He’s dying. Right in front of him.
There are tears in Tony’s eyes but he keeps working, keeps working, because it can’t happen, it can’t, he can’t lose Peter, he can’t lose him—
Static. Agony. Buzzing. Darkness, in and out.
Peter just floats there, unmoving, eyes open wide.
Tony’s soul shatters. He knows. He knows. But it can’t be, it can’t. It can’t be. Not him, not again. “No, no,” Tony breathes, gasping. “No, no, no, please.”
He keeps working and working until the glass breaks and the water floods out in a wave, Peter along with it. He’s limp as a ragdoll, and Tony falls to his knees, gathering him up in his arms.
“Stay with me, Pete, c’mon, you can’t—you can’t—” Tony’s trembling fingers try and find Peter’s pulse, but there’s nothing, no heartbeat, no hope, none at all. Peter’s face is slack, eyes unmoving, unfocused.
“No,” Tony sobs, touching his cheek. His kid, his Peter. He’s gone, he’s gone, and Tony can’t do shit. He never could. He did this to him.
“Kid, stay with me, please.”
Metal in his mouth. A wave of darkness. The world collapsing in on itself.
It’s all too fast.
~
“Stay with me, Pete,” Tony whispers, his head lolling back and forth on the pillow.
Everyone is still rushing around, especially Bruce and Helen, but Peter moves in closer to Tony’s side, listening hard.
“Did you hear him?” Peter asks, glancing up at Pepper, who’s sitting across the bed, trying to stay out of the way.
“What?” Pepper asks, concern in her eyes. “Did he say something?”
Helen walks over, injecting something into Tony’s IV. She quickly moves away, her flats clicking on the tile floor. She and Bruce meet in the middle, going over something on Bruce’s tablet.
“Stay with me, kid, c’mon,” Tony whispers, clearer this time.
“He’s calling for you,” Pepper says, brows drawn taut. “Go over there—Bruce, Peter’s gonna hold his hand.”
“Okay,” Bruce says, fast.
Peter rolls his chair over, and quickly picks Tony’s hand up, placing it in his own. He’s been so afraid, since this all started, but this is the first time Tony’s said anything. And it’s about him.
“Kid,” Tony whispers.
Peter’s heart does something between soaring and sinking, and he doesn’t know what the hell to do.
“We’re about to give him oxygen,” Bruce says. “What we just gave him should start to counteract the poison, but it’s gonna take a while to get him back.”
“Why do you think he’s worried about me?” Peter asks, looking up at Pepper. “I was—I was nowhere near the contamination zone, he made sure of that.”
“He’s always worried about you, Peter,” Pepper says, softly.
Peter sighs. It had just been a regular bullshit mission. Heavily armed guys busting into some weird containment center. But then there was poison. Then Tony got injected, and Peter felt like the world was ending. Tony’s been out of it since, Bruce and Helen rushing around trying to figure out an antiserum, and Peter hasn’t left his side since they got here. Rhodey is out with Steve and Nat trying to cover cleanup, and every time the door opens, Peter sees Happy sitting outside. As if he’s standing guard.
“Pete, wake up,” Tony breathes, his eyebrows furrowing. “Please. Please, stay—stay with me.”
Peter scoots closer, his throat getting tight. “Tony, I’m right here,” he says, his voice breaking. “I’m right here, I’m okay. Just—just—you’re the one that needs to be okay, okay?” He shifts his mouth to the side, squeezing his hand. He hates seeing Tony like this. He doesn’t like for Pepper to see Tony like this.
He tries to stop himself from crying, and he leans down, resting his forehead on Tony’s arm.
“He’ll be alright, sweetheart,” Pepper says. “Helen and Bruce are gonna take care of it.”
“Yeah,” Peter says. He squeezes his hand again, and hates that this happens to them so often. It feels like he’s constantly living in fear of losing Tony. And vice versa.
He just wants him to wake up.
~
Tony groans, scrunching his eyes shut tight. He feels like he’s been fucking steamrolled—he’s mush, he’s pulp, he’s not anything resembling a human being.
He remembers watching Peter drown. In that tank. Right in front of him.
The whole thing felt so strange, so...off, but that pain, that—agony, of holding Peter’s dead body in his arms—Tony remembers that. He remembers every excruciating detail, and it makes him feel like he’s sinking. Rushing pressure crushing him.
He’s in a bed now, he knows that much. He turns his head to the right, feeling the tears already starting to gather, and he wipes at his eyes as he opens them. The first thing he sees is Pepper. And she’s—she’s fine. No burns, no wounds, no—no nothing.
“Tony,” she says, reaching out, smiling at him softly, tilting her head to look at him. She rubs his arm up and down. “Hey, babe.”
“You’re not burned,” Tony whispers, narrowing his eyes.
She looks at him strangely, shaking her head. “Burned?” she asks.
“You were,” he almost slurs, the pain in his head and everywhere else too much to bear. “You, and—and Rhodey—and Happy was—he was—Jesus, it was such a clusterfuck—”
“Honey, you were poisoned on the Halliston Inc. mission,” she says, her gaze intent. “You were—you were unconscious, delirious, I think you were having some kind of fever dream. You were out for a good six hours. We’re all okay. Everyone’s fine. Rhodey’s doing cleanup detail, with the press now, but he should be back soon. He’s checked in about a hundred times. And Happy’s right outside. He keeps thinking the whole thing was an excuse to get at you, so he’s standing out there ready to attack anybody that looks the wrong way.”
Tony stares at her. It feels too good to be true. “Peter,” he says. “I—I watched him die, I couldn’t—I couldn’t save him—” His breath catches when he remembers his own face, on the person holding Peter captive. Menacing and macabre. Like someone was parading around in his corpse.
Pepper shakes her head, fast.
Then Tony hears a voice.
“I’m right here,” Peter says, softly.
Tony turns, slowly, to the other side of his bed. Peter is sitting right there, with that look on his face like he’s afraid, his brows knitted together, breathing through his mouth. He manages a small little smile, his eyes getting wider when Tony really focuses on him.
It feels like the world is rebuilding itself. Like the sun is shining again, like everything he saw is falling down and disappearing into a thin mist. It felt so real and those feelings are still clinging to him, wrapping around his aching heart, but Peter is right here. He’s right here, he’s alive. Jesus, he’s alive.
“Kid, can you...can you c’mere?” Tony stammers, his eyes filling with tears again. “I’m—in desperate need of a hug from you right now.”
Peter smiles, bright and genuine, and he doesn’t waste any time closing the distance between them. Tony pushes himself up a little bit and then he’s got an armful of Peter, burying his face in Tony’s shoulder. Tony clutches at him, squeezing his eyes shut tight, and he cradles the back of Peter’s head, carding his fingers through his hair. The amount of relief he feels is enough to flood a desert, and he loves Peter, he loves him, this is his kid, his son, for all intents and purposes. He lost him once, it felt like he had lost him again, and like that—like that—
“It’s okay,” Peter says, squeezing Tony’s shoulder, rubbing his back. “I’m okay, I’m okay, I promise.”
“Yeah,” Tony croaks. “You better be, Pete.”
Tony knows the dream, the nightmare, whatever the hell it was, it had to have meant something, the way it was set up, all the goddamn layers—feels like something Pepper told him about poetry once, a long time ago. But it also feels like something he shouldn’t feel anymore. The poison drawing up his own doubts inside of him. A Tony Stark Production.
They’re all okay. And Peter’s alive. He’s right here. Tony’s got him.
“Don’t worry,” Peter whispers. “Don’t worry. I’m okay.”
Tony closes his eyes, and tries to remember how to breathe. Peter pulls back after a couple long moments, and Tony looks him up and down, to make sure this isn’t some sort of trick. Peter grabs his hand, holding it between both of his own.
“What was it?” Peter asks. “The—the dream, what—what happened to me?”
Tony doesn’t even wanna say it out loud. “Let’s just say, I’d like you to avoid any beach or pool trips for the near future.”
#tony stark#peter parker#whumptober#whumptober 2019#my fics#iron dad#iron man#spider-man#TW drowning#pepper potts#happy hogan#james rhodes
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No place like home | אין מקום כמו הבית
You're engaged to Eitan, and thus Yona will teach you her ways in the kitchen, because after all, you're going to be a Konfino.
*
Eitan Konfino X Female Reader
A huff of laughter left your lips as Eitan threw a peanut in the air and rather ungracefully caught it in his mouth, several crumbs of peanut shells scattered all over his shirt. You sat snuggled against his side, legs pulled up onto the sofa, your father-in-law sitting a little away, his feet put up on the coffee table.
“You better clean that up.” Yizhar grumpily complained to his youngest son, grabbing the handheld vacuum cleaner from the floor and proceeding to clean up the crumbs on his own chest before handing it to Eti.
“Of course, dad.” he replied with a nearly unnoticeable roll of his eyes, but he didn’t start cleaning himself of the residue left by your midday snacks before feeding you another one - you didn’t particularly like peanuts, but you ate them anyway.
“(Y/n)?” Yona called from the kitchen, causing you to look up.
“Yes?” you quizzed, but there was no answer.
“Go look what she wants.” Eitan said to you before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You arose and stretched your arms before heading to the kitchen. Eti’s hand reached out to playfully slap your ass, but a raised eyebrow from his father halted him in his tracks, causing him to recoil and crack open another nut.
You entered the kitchen and found Yona with an apron around her waist, another one held out for you to take. The table and counter were filled with fresh produce, ready to be handled.
“What can I do for you?” you asked her, stepping a bit further into the kitchen. She wiggled the apron from left to right, smiling a little as a few brown curls fell in front of her eyes. “Take it.”
You did as she asked, curious about what she was up to. After tying it around your waist, she gestured to the sink. “Wash your hands.”
“Okay.” you said with an amused hum, heading to the tap to run your hands under lukewarm water before drying them on a tea towel.
“Since you and Eti are going to get married soon,” she began, “It is time that you learn how to cook Shakshu-Konfino!”
Your heart jumped in your chest. “Really?” you asked in slight disbelief, “You are willing to share your secret recipe with me?” Tears appeared in the corners of your eyes at the idea - Yona’s Shakshuka was heavenly.
“Of course, (Y/n)!” your future mother-in-law told you, “After all, it’s important that it stays in the family.”
She winked at you and it made your body warm with the knowledge that she really saw you as her own daughter, the one she never had, and she soon handed you a knife to start working on the tomatoes.
“Tomatoes, a whole bunch of them.” she told you. “Don’t be afraid to do it off the cuff. One tomato more or less never made a difference. Well, it does, but the more, the better. However, it’s the spices you need to be careful with! Too many will spoil it, too little will make it bland.”
Yona went to dice two onions and tossed them into a large bowl. As soon as you had finished chopping a whole bunch of the red, unskinned fruits, you put them in as well.
“Really good. Now, yellow bell peppers, four cloves of garlic, two hot chili peppers, and the spices. Why don’t you chop the peppers while I go prepare the garlic.” You took two hot chili peppers and looked at Yona from the corner of your eye for a second before grabbing a third one. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “See, you are going to be a Konfino after all.” she praised softly.
Cooking together made it light work, and soon, Yona was already heating up the pan with a dash of olive oil, spreading it around to cover it evenly. She placed it back upon the stove so you could take it, and she threw in half of the vegetable mix of what you had chopped up alongside half of the garlic.
Within mere seconds, the kitchen was filled with the delicious scent of grilling veggies, enriched by the many flavours mixed in. You shuffled a spatula around the frying pan to keep the food from burning, and after a while, Yona tossed in the rest of the garlic as well as a can of chopped tomatoes in sauce.
Stirring it through, you watched as she took a bunch of herbs, sprinkling them into the pan with generous amounts. “Cumin,” she said, “Salt, pepper, some sweet paprika.”
“Got it.” you said, “And what else?”
Yona smiled at you before reaching into one of the kitchen cabinets. “The secret ingredient is… A dash of this .”
She showed you a tiny glass jar on which was scribbled the date on which it had been made.
“My homemade baharat . I should teach you to make it someday. It will change your Shakshuka game for the rest of your life!”
You nodded, smiling. “I’d love to learn from you.”
“Good.” she replied, tapping a small amount of the mixture into the pan. “Now stir thoroughly.”
Yona was a good teacher - not that you were a terrible student - in just twenty minutes, a steaming pan of shakshuka was nearly ready to be served.
“Now for the eggs. Make a small hole into the Shakshuka with the spatula and I will drop them in.”
She cracked twelve eggs into the sauce. “Now we just let them poach for a bit and it will be perfect.”
“(Y/n)...” you suddenly heard Eitan’s voice from the threshold and you turned around to find him smiling with a twinkle in his eye reserved only for you. “You’re making Shakshu-Konfino.” he softly mused.
“I am.” you replied, approaching him, your hands starting to undo your apron. “After all, I’m going to be a Konfino.”
His smile grew and he reached for your cheek to tuck some hair behind your ear “At least one of my boys is settling down.” Yizhar said with feigned exaggeration, hoisting himself out of his chair before walking to the kitchen.
“Meyron is married.” Eti commented, but Yizhar let out a scoff.
“Yes, with some woman from America who we have never met, even after all these years. We never would’ve known it either if it weren’t for Danny and you telling us.”
“Well,” Yona breathed with a smile, “At least we will have grandchildren living close to home this time!”
“And I will be able to make them Shakshu-Konfino.” you said with a wide grin, and Eti opened his mouth to reply when the front door opened and Danny announced his arrival.
“I’m home!” the cop exclaimed, “What is that wonderful smell?”
He placed his hands on his hips as he joined the little gathering on the kitchen’s threshold.
“Hey there Danny!” Yona greeted happily, pushing herself through the small gap in between you and Eitan to kiss her middle child on the cheeks.
“How was work today?” “Busy as always, mom.” he started to explain, and you retreated into the kitchen to see how the eggs were doing, Eitan following you suit.
“That smells really good.” Eitan told you, wrapping his arms around you from behind before kissing the top of your head lovingly. “And the Shakshuka, too.”
A blush spread over your cheeks and you let out a light laugh. “Oh, stop that.”
“I keep wondering why I’ve ever deserved you. I’m so lucky to have you.”
Your heart climbed into your throat and you smiled, tearing your eyes away from the eggs in order to look at him.
“Well,” you began, “I think I’m the lucky one to have you. ”
“(Y/n), don’t-” “No, Eti, really.” He showed you a boyish smile and you cherished it, for it wasn’t every day that you made him blush like a teenager with his head in the clouds. Still, whenever he was with you, he certainly felt light-headed and all the worries in the world seemed to fade away.
“I can’t wait to marry you.” he murmured. “Me neither.” was your response before standing on your tip-toes to press your lips to his. He cradled his fingers around your face and tilted up your head, and you allowed his mouth to claim yours, his tongue just slipping over your bottom lip, requesting entrance.
“Is that Shakshuka?” Danny announced his approach and Eitan pulled back right away, giving you an apologetic look. You shrugged - it wasn’t like he could help it.
“ Shalom Eti, Shalom (Y/n).”
“Good to see you, Danny.” you greeted him, kissing his cheeks before he turned to your fiancé in order to give him a hug.
“Been a while.” he commented. “Too long,” Eti added, ruffling his older brother’s hair, which made for a funny scene - after all, Eitan stood several heads above Danny.
A head of brown curls popped around the corner. “Boys, why don’t you lay the table?”
Yona ushered her sons out of the kitchen and walked towards you to look upon the eggs. “Perfect.”
Within a minute, the table was laid and it was time to start eating. Carefully, you carried the frying pan to the dinner table.
“That looks delicious, (Y/n)!” Yizhar praised, shifting in his seat.
You placed it in the middle and sat down next to Eitan, his hand immediately resting on your thigh, lovingly so, with a tinge of possessiveness. He had every right to do so, and it warmed your skin through your trousers.
“Thank you,” you told Yizhar, “I learned from the best.” Yona gleamed with joy. “Let’s see if it tastes as good as we know it.” Danny jested, reaching over to the pan to dip some bread into the mixture. The poached eggs were perfectly runny and pride filled your chest.
In pleasant silence, you all ate from the dish for a while before Yizhar spoke up. “(Y/n),” he began, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “For many years, Yona has made me the most delicious Shakshuka in all of Israel. And I’ve made it for her in return, which she always loves…”
“ Almost always, Yizhar.” she corrected, and for a second, a rare smile spread over his lips.
“Which she almost always loves,” he resumed, “And I still believe that there is no Shakshuka better than Shakshu-Konfino in this world… This… ”
He pointed at the food on his plate, nodding. “ This is Shakshu-Konfino. You are a true Konfino, (Y/n), and I can taste it in every bite.”
“Look at that, (Y/n).” Danny spoke, amusement lingering in his voice “Our father is becoming sappy because of you. His age is making him soft!”
“Oh, shut up Danny!” Yizhar exclaimed over the laugh the rest of you let out.
Eitan leaned down, pressing a kiss onto your temple. “I’m proud of you, baby.” You smiled contently, leaning into his touch.
Looking out over the table, you looked with fond eyes upon the people you could call family in all ways but by law - and you soon would be able to do so.
You wouldn’t change it for the world.
Never before had you felt more at home than in that very moment.
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84 Questions
original: https://fuckyeahsurveys.tumblr.com/post/61049002526/84-questions
Put your music player of choice on shuffle and list the first 10 songs Guns of Brixton - The Clash Holiday in Cambodia - Dead Kennedys Chainsaw - Nick Jonas California - Joni Mitchell Make It Wit Chu - Queens of the Stone Age This Woman’s Work - Kate Bush The Bad Thing - Arctic Monkeys Between the Bars - Eliot Smith Drown - The Smashing Pumpkins Different People - No Doubt
If you could spend a week anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? Would you take anyone with you? I’d take @duoloopo to the UK. I’d like to see places other than London.
What is your preferred writing implement? (eg. Blue pen, pencil, green pen) I use my iPad stylus the most, but I have this heavy mechanical pencil I really like for drawing.
Favourite month and why? October. I just love the fall vibe.
Do you have connections to any celebrities (even minor)? List them. I went to undergraduate school with Rebecca Sugar. We used to ride the bus between NYC and DC together on holidays.
Name 3 items you could pick up from where you are. Can of seltzer, pencil case, stack of bills
What brand logo is closest to you currently? REAL Skateboards
Do you ever play board games or other non-computer games? Got any favourites? I love Small World and Munchkin.
A musical artist you love that isn’t well known Laura Stevenson and the Cans
A musical artist you love that is well known Red Hot Chili Peppers
What is your desktop background currently? Thomas Barrow on the beach in the Season 4 Christmas Special
Last person you talked to, and through what you talked to them @duomaxwell02 with my face :O
First colour name you can think of that isn’t in the rainbow White
What timekeeping devices are in the room you are currently in? Two wall clocks, though one is very old and doesn’t wind anymore. I also have a clock @duoloopo ‘s dad made for me. It’s on the piano.
What kind of headphones do you use? JBL Bluetooth, noise canceling
What musical artists have you seen perform live? Foo Fighters (3x), Incubus (3x), Red Hot Chili Peppers, Smashing Pumpkins, Beastie Boys, Audioslave, Justin Timberlake, Troy Sivan, Arctic Monkeys, The Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, Queen (but with Roger Daughtry, not Freddy... for obvious reasons.). Probably a whole bunch of others I’m blanking on.
Does virginity matter to you? Not really.
What gaming consoles do you or your family own? PS4, PS2, PS1, XBox 360, N64, Gamecube, Wii, NES, SNES, various Gameboys, Nintendo DS, PSP
What pets do you have? What are their names? Two cats, Hemingway and Renji
What’s the best job you’ve ever had? I like freelance art gigs the best. As for ‘normal people jobs’, I once was a sign painter for Whole Foods. That was pretty fun, minus the work drama.
What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? Food service.
What magazines do you read, if any? I’ll pick up Time once in a while
Inspiration behind your URL? My classic original URL was LinkWorshiper and had been since AIM first existed. I picked it because Zelda was the first fandom I ever joined. Now I’ve changed all my handles (except on AO3) to reflect my actual name, as my literary agent thinks it’s more professional.
Inspiration behind your blog title? Mean Girls. I always chuckle imagining Thomas and Jimmy as some Edwardian version of the Plastics.
Favourite item of clothing? My Downton livery waistcoat. And the stiff bosomed shirt and collars I have to go with it.
Are you friends with any exes? Nah. By the time I felt comfortable enough to possibly try, I also didn’t care enough to.
Name at least one book you loved as a child. His Dark Materials (the trilogy by Philip Pullman). I still love them and am jazzed that he’s writing more these days.
What’s your native language? If that language has distinct regional variations, which variation? (eg. AU English, US English) US English, mostly a northeastern dialect/accent
What email service do you use? Gmail
Is there anything hanging on the walls of the room you are currently in? So much stuff. I have a mood board full of Downtons stuff over my desk, various DA posters and memorabilia, plus some artwork I’ve done, and some of my JC Leyendecker collection. The aforementioned wall clocks, a San Francisco cable car bell, Sailor Moon and a few other little knickknacks, like my hamsa. To name a few lol.
What’s your favourite number, and why? 212 because it’s Manhattan’s area code and also because it used to be the notation for one of my favorite ships in an old fandom.
Earliest moment in your life you can remember? Sitting under the table and looking at my grandma, who was wearing a Cruella Deville dress she’d knit herself. Like, it had the actual Disney character on it. Pretty cool to a little guy, I guess!
What did you have for dinner yesterday? Quesadilla
How often do you brush your teeth? Whenever they feel gross
What’s your favourite candy/chocolate? Lately, I’ve been into Junior Mints.
Have you had other blogs on Tumblr? Do you have any other blogs currently? This blog used to have my old handle, linkworshiper. I did a small Whole Foods blog when I worked with them, but it never went anywhere.
If you were suddenly really hungry, what would you choose to eat? Sushi
What fandoms would you consider yourself a part of? Downton Abbey, though lately I’ve been crazy busy and not as active as I once was. Casually still poking at old fandoms like Zelda and Gundam Wing to name a few.
If you could study anything, what would it be? More art education can’t hurt. Maybe some formal history education.
Do you use anything on your lips? (eg. Chapstick, gloss, balm, lipstick) Chapstick
How would you describe your sense of humour? Seinfeld
What things annoy you more than anything else? Mouth noises
What kind of position are you in at the moment? Sitting
Do you wear much jewellery? Nope
Who is the leader of your country, currently? Any other levels of government with leaders? (State, region, province, county, district, municipality, etc) Three supposedly equal branches of government, currently being run into the ground by a clown
Last 3 blogs on your dashboard, not including any of your own @halcyondaze @mab1905 @lavender-hued-melancholy
What do you carry your money in? I try to never carry cash, but I carry a small wallet
Do you enjoy driving? Why or why not? I like it but sometimes it feels like a chore, especially during a commute. @duoloopo thinks I’m a shit driver so she tries to drive whenever she can, which has pluses and minuses.
Longest drive you have ever been on? Savannah GA to San Francisco, CA in a UHaul
Furthest away from home you have ever been? Germany
How many times have you moved house? God, I don’t even know. More than ten.
What is on the floor of the room you’re currently in, not including furniture? Cat toys, unused canvases
How many devices do you own which can access the internet? Phone, computer, iPad, various game consoles
Is there is anything that is guaranteed to always make you happy? Thomas and Jimmy <3 <3
Is there anything that always makes you sad? Thinking too hard about being a failure
What programs do you currently have open? I just rebooted, so only Chrome, Spotify and Photoshop
What do you associate the colour red with? This line in the Kate Bush Song Blue Symphony, which goes, ‘I associate love with red, the color of my heart when she’s dead.’
Last strong smell you can remember smelling? The Greek food I ordered in for dinner
Last healthy thing you ate? Roasted veggies
Do you drink tea or coffee, and how much per day? I prefer tea, and I drink coffee for energy, though sometimes I think it just makes me crash harder.
What do you associate the colour blue with? The sky
How long is the closest ruler you can find? 12 inches
What colour pants/skirt/etc are you currently wearing? Dark blue
When was the last time you drank water? About a minute ago
How often do you clear your browser history? Rarely
Do you believe nude photos can be artistic, rather than erotic? Yes
Ever written fanfiction for anything? Oh God, yes. You can still find it under Link Worshiper on AO3, though some of my ‘classics’ have been removed since I turned them into original manuscripts
Last formal event you attended My cousin’s wedding
If you had to move your birthday to another date, which one would you choose and why? Maybe inch my birth year up just by two so that I’d stop being called a damn millennial. At my age, I really just don’t relate to the generation even though technicalities make me a part of it.
Would you prefer to be at a beach or in the countryside? Beach
Roughly how many people live in your town? 52,000
Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you? Leonard Nimoy :D
Favourite place to shop? Can be a certain store or a place where there are multiple stores I haven’t really gone shopping since the pandemic. Right now, it feels like the only place to buy anything is Amazon XD
Do you have a smartphone? What kind? If you don’t, do you want one? Samsung. It’s not a Galaxy but is a new model and a fraction of the price.
What is your least favourite colour, and why? I don’t think I dislike any colors honestly.
How do you spell grey/gray? Grey. I’ve got too many British online associates to ever go back.
Go to your dashboard and describe the image shown in the radar section (below the “Find blogs” link) It’s Umbrella Academy fanart of Klaus. He’s in black and white with this hands over his eyes and the background is red. It’s very graphic.
What difference is there between how many followers you have, and the number of blogs you follow? 736
How many posts do you have? 8,859
How many posts have you liked? I can’t find the stat D:
Do you post mainly reblogs, or your own content? Mainly reblogs but I pepper in my own content when I can. Lately, I haven’t had time to do as much fanart though, and I kind of feel like it’s not worth bothering to post my original stuff. Nobody follows my blog for that.
Do you track any tags? No.
What time is it currently? 7:33 PM CMT
Is there anything you should be doing right now? Waking up @duoloopo. TIME TO JUMP ON THE BED.
tagging, if they feel like it: @abbys-little-whippersnapper @bumblebarrow @irrationalgame @downtoncat @mab1905 @duoloopo
and everyone who I’ve forgotten
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I Want You Here With Me (Is It Too Much to Ask for Something Great) ch. 8
Title: I Want You Here With Me (Is It Too Much to Ask for Something Great) ch. 8 of 14 (ch. 1) Pairing: Isak Valtersen/Even Bech Næsheim Word count: 10.069 Warnings: Language, internalized homophobia, quick mention of blood (nothing serious, by accidentally cutting himself when cooking)
AO3
Summary: The one where it’s been two years since Isak last saw or spoke with Even, and no one knows that Isak ever knew Even at all.
Present
Coffee. He needs coffee, right now. Not working on the assignment worth half his credit in cell-biology and genetics until two days before it is due really hasn’t been his best idea. Might even beat the time he figured he could follow all those vodka shots up with a bottle of tequila.
Isak flicks the light switch on when he walks into the kitchen. Magnus’ computer is on the dining table, open, and Isak can’t help himself from gathering potential blackmail on Magnus, so he pulls the chair out and checks what’s already opened before he’ll start snooping.
Except… it’s not just any little old thing Magnus was looking at. The tab open is a movie review about “Circles”, the movie… the movie Even directed.
Once again Næsheim manages to sweep us off our feet and turn our worlds upside down, or should we say ‘spin it around in Circles’ as he’s set to win yet another award for his hard work –
No. Isak hurls himself away from the computer, forgetting entirely about his original intentions. He won’t do this to himself. He still remembers frantically reading everything about Even’s movies and watching them endlessly, and he remembers how much it hurt to think about how Even came up with the idea, his work process, did he push himself too hard, did he remember to eat, how magnificent he did – does with all of his movies. Because it did. Hurt, that is. It felt like his heart was tearing itself into tiny pieces and he didn’t enjoy the feeling, but at least in those moments he felt something.
But he’s better now. Trying to be better. And he won’t read it. He won’t.
He forces himself to look at the coffee machine instead and meticulously begins to make a cup, mentally listing all the things he’s doing and has to do in order to not turn around and look at Magnus’ computer, mentally priding himself on the fact that he manages not to. He’s getting better.
“Isak, hey! You’re up early,” Magnus says as he walks into the kitchen. He’s wearing clothes but his hair is still wet. He shakes it out of his face as he sits down by his laptop. “’Mind making me a cup as well?”
Isak only shrugs and repeats his earlier process to avoid temptation. He will not look at the review, or any other, for that matter.
“Hey, Isak, listen to this, ‘Once again Næsheim manages –’”
Isak slams his coffee cup onto the counter. God damn it, Magnus.
“He’s so cool,” Magnus says, lying halfway across the table, staring dreamily into his screen, “did you see him on the Late Show the other day? He was there with Sonja, though, so I don’t know if I believe the rumors about them breaking up.”
“I still don’t believe they were ever together,” Jonas says as he enters the kitchen. He gives Isak a careful look that’s easy enough to ignore, even as he knows he deserves it; he hadn’t exactly handled seeing – seeing him well, spending all his time since either mindlessly numb or furiously busy. The mud on Jonas’ running shoes isn’t dry yet and drags all over the kitchen floor.
“Dude,” Isak calls him out on it, only to have Jonas shrug, “sorry, man” before turning back to Magnus.
Out of all of them, Jonas was the most likely to indulge Magnus in his Even-obsession. Mahdi would roll his eyes and make fun of him, although he would listen – until a certain amount of time had passed, there was only so much Even-fangirling he could take – and Isak would, for obvious reasons, shut him down harshly immediately and then have to apologize for it later after feeling shitty about it.
It’s not fair.
“Hollywood does it all the time,” Jonas insists. “Fake romances for publicity or something.”
Magnus frowns. “Sonja isn’t famous, though. Neither of them would gain anything from an arrangement like that.”
Oh yeah, nothing at all, Isak bitterly thinks to himself as he pulls out the bread and a knife to cut a couple of slices for breakfast. Nothing Even would ever gain from being in a relationship with Sonja, nope.
“What are we talking about?” Mahdi knocks on the doorframe, grinning when Isak starts to moan about the mud he’s now tracking in. Honestly, when did Isak become the responsible one?
“Even and Sonja,” Jonas says, throwing the one apple they’ve bought around in the air rather than eating it.
“Sonja and Even,” Magnus corrects. “Sounds better, doesn’t it?”
They sound absolutely fucking perfect. Yippee.
“New drama?” Mahdi asks as he pulls open the fridge, rattling its contents around. Isak tries to narrow down on what is being moved around without actually looking.
That was a jar, the mayo? Maybe the jam – probably the jam. What else have they got on that shelf? If he just keeps focusing on those things, on Jonas’ and Mahdi’s movements, of cutting up the bread, then it won’t hurt as much to be here when Magnus is talking about Even.
“Nah,” a few clicks on the computer, “he’s set to win another award. One for ‘Circles’ this time – he better fucking win, that movie was a work of art and I will hunt down that damn committee if they fuck it up.”
Isak can hear Jonas trying to smother a snicker. Usually Isak would look over at him and share a knowing look, implying they’re both suffering through this conversation, but Jonas is polite enough not to show it.
“There’ll probably be new articles and interviews coming up with him, then,” Mahdi fishes out the butter – the butter, that doesn’t go on their jar shelf – and closes the fridge.
Magnus emits an odd ostrich-type gasp followed by a furious amount of clicks. “Oh my god, do you think he’ll come to Norway to do some as well? Do you think that’s why he was here in the first place? Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
He starts frantically typing on the computer as he keeps muttering that he needs to look it up. Isak rolls his eyes, but he keeps his mouth shut, because he’s a good friend and he’s getting better, no matter what anyone else might believe.
“How’d practice go?” Isak asks instead and then focuses all his attention on the stories Mahdi and Jonas tell him about football training and how it had been so slippery they’d almost had to cancel. The coach had finally put an end to the madness when it had turned into much more of a mud-fight than a football match.
“You don’t look all that muddy for having been in a mud-fight.” Their shoes are filthy, though. Isak’s going to have to remember to clean that off of the floor before it dries and stains the wood. Does mud stain? He isn’t particularly interested in finding out.
Jonas holds up his hands that are colored grey from the dried up mud. “T’is all about strategy, man.”
“And I hide behind him,” Mahdi nods. Isak can’t help but snort when Jonas pouts dramatically. He’s quick to turn his attention back on Isak though.
“You lot should be nicer to me,” Jonas whines.
Isak rolls his eyes as he takes a sip of his coffee, but he dutifully asks Jonas in a faux-complacent voice, “How can we ever make it up to you?”
Jonas grins obnoxiously. “Cook me lunch,” he demands.
Isak quirks an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Did your hands fall off at practice? I’m not cooking you lunch.”
Jonas holds his hands up again and, alright, fair enough, they are disgusting, but not unusable. “I can’t use these hands to cook. I’d end up eating mud!”
“Don’t eat mud,” Magnus tells them absentmindedly. He’s still clicking away on the computer and Isak doubts he even knows the context to what he just commented on.
Jonas laughs. “Even Magnus can tell it’s a bad idea and he’s off in Even-land.”
Isak rolls his eyes again. “Alright, fine. What do you want?” Anything to get the conversation away from Even, which was what he’d been trying to do when he’d asked about footie in the first place.
Jonas chants nonsense triumphantly and doesn’t even bother answering Isak, before Isak makes to leave with his coffee to go back to his room.
“An omelet!” Jonas yells at him. He reaches out to grab onto him, but then thinks better of it, which Isak is quite grateful for even if he refuses to show it. “Make me an omelet!”
“What d’you want on it?” Isak takes another sip of his coffee before he places the cup on the counter and opens the fridge.
“Ham,” Jonas decides. “Ham and red bell peppers.”
Isak grimaces as he riffles through the contents of their fridge. Not only does he like neither of those, they also don’t have either. “I can do cheese and tomatoes.”
“Done,” Jonas agrees too quickly and sits down at the table opposite Magnus.
Jonas and Mahdi strike up a conversation about a possible strategy they should probably bring up at the next practice – usually Isak would be all about that, but right now he kind of likes the simplicity of having to focus on what his hands are doing.
He doesn’t cook often – at all, more likely; he hasn’t got a clue as to why Jonas would ask him to cook him lunch. He doesn’t have the patience for it, nor is he particularly good at it – he just knows enough to get by.
But there is something mind-numbing about cracking eggs open, the yolk and whites sizzle against the hot pan while Isak takes out a cutting board and lays two big tomatoes on it. They’re still slightly dripping from being washed and it leaves behind a pool of water on the cutting board underneath them. He should probably dry that off.
It’s fifty/fifty whether or not it’ll actually keep his mind off of things, or if whatever he’s cooking is so simple or the issue so big there’s no reprieve for him, but right now he can ignore Magnus’ muttered comments and tune in and out of Jonas’ and Mahdi’s conversation.
It’s nice. It’s everything he’d hoped of getting when the boys had first asked him to move in. And it’s really the small moments like these that remind him just why he decided enough was enough, that he was done with being drunk 95% of his day and miserable 100% of it.
“There’s nothing,” Magnus whines. He’s still tapping away so Isak doesn’t know how truthful that is, or if all the articles are just saying the same thing over and over again.
“Cheer up!” Mahdi tries, pointedly talking over Magnus’ exaggerated sighing. “It’s still early. Maybe nothing’s been released yet.”
“I guess,” another tap. Then a click and a few more clicks, and then Magnus types something else in.
Isak busies himself with sprinkling some cheese onto the now golden, fluffy eggs and then finds a knife big enough to cut the tomatoes in slices.
“Don’t worry,” Isak hears Jonas say, almost like he’s further away than the couple of steps he really is. “There’ll be something soon.”
Magnus sighs again. “I’ll just keep refreshing until something new pops up.”
“That’s a bit obsessive,” Mahdi tells him. “Come on, have a bite of omelet with us and then you can check. You can’t spend your entire day just refreshing all those sites.”
Isak knows Magnus will be frowning, he knows him well enough to know that. “I sure can.”
Mahdi tuts, but he doesn’t get into it, which Isak is rather grateful for. He’s still got a bit of a headache lingering from his panicked paper-writing, sleepless night, and hearing about Even had not been the morning he’d hoped to have to wind down, but oh, well.
“Where’s the food at?” Jonas whines. He stomps his foot underneath the table like a toddler. Isak bangs the knife against the cutting board in the same pattern to mock Jonas – which he shouldn’t, because that knife is massive and Isak is going to lose control of it if he’s being a dick handling it.
“You want the eggs raw?”
Jonas probably rolls his eyes or does something equally rude and unappreciative of Isak’s magnanimity. Isak actually goes through the effort of twisting around to stick his tongue out at Jonas.
Mahdi laughs as Jonas tries to throw a random piece of paper they have lying around, but he’s forgotten to fold it or crumble it into a ball, so it just hovers in the air before it slowly falls down on the ground.
“You’re acting like a child,” Jonas scolds, putting on a posh voice that makes Isak want to laugh again. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt this light.
“Oh, yeah,” Mahdi deadpans. “He’s acting like a child. Remind me again, who was it that started that mud-fight?”
“That son-of-a-bitch Markus if anyone asks,” Jonas answers raptly. Isak snorts as he makes the first slice, carefully curling his fingers away from the blade. “Especially if –“
Magnus interrupts them when he starts screaming. All three of them jump up and Isak whirls around to him to see what’s wrong, what’s happened, what’s –
But Magnus is just looking at his computer screen, and he’s screaming because he’s excited.
“Jesus Christ,” Isak grumbles. “Don’t do that! I nearly cut myself!”
He’ll let Jonas and Mahdi deal with whatever the fuck is going on. God, he’d just been having fun, but now it seems like his good mood has evaporated as quickly as the April weather changes. He knows it’ll come back; he just needs to settle down a bit and get his heart to stop racing from the fright Magnus had given all of them.
He places the knife back onto the tomato while he involuntarily picks up on Magnus hyperventilating and Jonas and Mahdi asking what’s happening even while they still sound slightly annoyed about the scare as well. Even that Isak isn’t a good enough friend to do.
No, stop it. He’s getting better and everything takes time. He’ll get there, one day. Hopefully.
The tomato is still a bit wet, the skin smooth and slippery as he tries to make it stop rolling around long enough for him to cut it. He’s just gotten the perfect size ready to press down on when Magnus wheezes the first intelligible thing he’s said since he started shouting.
“They’ve published the marriage certificate!”
And Isak’s world stops.
Or his heart does – his world doesn’t, because if he could stop the world, he already would’ve done that. He would’ve stopped it a long time ago.
His mind is dangerously blank, no inputs or outputs and he can’t even register how scary that feels. He doesn’t register that his hands aren’t still but desperately shaking. He can’t register anything until he presses down on the knife, involuntarily following-through on his abandoned motion.
Except he isn’t holding onto the tomato anymore, not properly anyway, so the knife slips off the surface. Isak barely registers the pain from the blade cutting down his hand, leaving a big enough gash that he starts bleeding.
“Shit!” he swears and Jonas is up off his chair before Isak can even move to the sink to rinse it off.
“Jesus!” Mahdi rushes over to the two of them. He grabs the roll of paper towels on his way, already bundling up way more pieces than Isak needs.
Jonas grabs onto his arm and drags him over to the sink. The water is cold and ends up splashing everywhere from the high pressure. It sounds like bullets hitting metal in Isak’s ears.
“Hold it under the water – Isak,” Jonas says louder to get his attention. “Hold it under the water!”
“It doesn’t look like it’s deep,” Mahdi says, pressing the bundled up paper towel onto his palm too quickly so it ends up getting soaked through.
The pain is dull. Isak always thought pain would bring someone back into their body, but all it does is make him float away even further. All the noises around him sound dulled down like he’s underwater and everyone around him is trying to scream at him to get his attention, but he can’t hear them properly.
His breathing picks up and he has to stop this, stop panicking before one of the boys notice.
Jonas notices. He looks up at Isak with a worried frown and Isak can’t look at him, just keeps looking at the wet, slightly red-stained paper towel Mahdi is still pressing onto his hand.
“Hey, you alright?” Jonas asks. His hands moves up from his elbow to his shoulder to get a better grip. “You’re not squeamish around blood, are you? Do you feel dizzy?”
Mahdi makes a high-pitched groan. “Please tell me you’re not about to hurl.”
“Shut up,” Jonas doesn’t stop looking at Isak. “Isak?”
And it just – it sounds like the first of many confused, slightly scared Isak?’s that Isak has a feeling he’s about to hear for the rest of his life, and it hasn’t even started yet.
It hasn’t started before Magnus goes, “What. The actual. Fuck.”
Jonas and Mahdi don’t hear it, but Isak does. It’s the first thing he hears properly since the knife slipped out of his hand, and he wishes he hadn’t heard it. He wishes he hadn’t heard it, won’t hear it ever again, but Magnus repeats it when Jonas has turned off the sink and Mahdi has given him another, now dry, towel to press against his hand.
It’s not even bleeding anymore, but Isak holds it there anyway. His body somehow won’t let him press down, so it’s just resting there.
“What the fuck?”
“Magnus,” Jonas snaps, twisting around to look at him, “we’re a bit busy right now, think you could fantasize about Even later?”
Jonas’ hand is still on Isak’s shoulder, which means that when Jonas turns around, so does Isak, and Mahdi seemingly subconsciously mirrors them as well. Isak’s lower back is pressed harshly into the counter. He tries to take another step back, wants to get as far away from Magnus and his stupid, stupid laptop as entirely possible, but he can’t. He’s stuck, he’s stuck, and if the certificate is out then he’s also stuck in a completely different way.
Magnus’ lips are pressed into a thin line as he stares right at Isak. His gaze is unwavering and Isak feels pinned by the mere force of it, his breath halting as a chill settles over his body.
Magnus doesn’t even reply to defend himself. He doesn’t reply to explain. He just slides the computer around until the screen is facing them, and there Isak sees it.
He sees a large, blown up picture, right in the beginning of whatever article Magnus has open. The article itself doesn’t really matter, it’s just the picture that certainly does, or what the picture is of at least matters.
Jonas and Mahdi clearly can’t tell at first – they’re too far away from the screen, but Isak recognizes the piece of paper. He recognizes the info. He recognizes the Vigselattest written at the top and he recognizes Even’s handwriting and he recognizes his own handwriting. He recognizes their names and the date and their signatures. He recognizes all of it, because he has that exact paper tucked away, forever in hiding because he hadn’t been able to bear the thought of getting rid of it.
He’s staring at his own marriage certificate, blown up and on the internet for anyone and everyone to see. And now Magnus has seen it. And Jonas and Mahdi have seen it and are seconds away from realizing what it is.
And Isak doesn’t want to be here for when they figure it out.
“Oh my god –“ Mahdi starts, has barely started before all life suddenly returns to Isak’s body and he bolts towards the hallway.
His heart is pounding and the blood is rushing in his ears. He can barely hear Mahdi’s incredulous exclamations or Jonas’ surprised gasp. All Isak knows is he needs to get out of there, right now.
He’s just a couple of feet away from the doorway when he’s suddenly hauled back by the hand Jonas still has on his shoulder, has had ever since he came up to him to help with the cut on his hand, and suddenly Isak is back to standing between Jonas and Mahdi, counter pressed into his lower back.
Mahdi moves until he’s blocking the entrance to the kitchen, like that would be enough to deter Isak from trying to leave. Isak wants to laugh a bit at that, laugh the way he’s feeling; hysterically and panicked and maybe all he wants to do is scream and cry, actually.
They’re all just staring at him.
Isak is breathing heavily. It stands out in the otherwise quiet room, and all that amounts to is Isak’s breathing picking up even further. He’s still looking frantically around the room, like a new exit will suddenly pop up just because he wills it so. It doesn’t.
He can’t bear to look at any of them, but at the same time he can’t stand not knowing what they’re thinking. Can’t stand having to witness them looking at him differently, like he’s different, but also can’t stand living in this middle place, this Schrödinger’s box where they could either be looking at him in disdain or the same way they’ve always looked at him; like he’s their friend.
Friends don’t lie to each other. Not about something big like this.
Isak looks at them.
It’s just a quick glance, scanning over each of them before he can’t stand to look anymore, focuses in on the back wall in the kitchen instead. They’re all looking confused, but Jonas is also looking both panicked and pitying, like he’s afraid Isak will bolt again, which, yeah, is looking really tempting right now. Mahdi looks small and Magnus, most surprising of all, has a careful mask plastered onto his face that gives nothing away.
Isak can’t even begin to imagine how he looks right now.
Can they see? Can they see the panic and the heartbreak and all the other feelings he’s been trying so hard to hide away?
The quiet breaks.
“What the fuck –“
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god –“
“Isak, what the hell is that –“
“I don’t understand –“
“Is it real? Is it actually real?”
“Isak, what – I don’t, I –“
“It doesn’t matter!” It tears out of Isak’s throat, all guttural and anguished and Isak’s hands are curled up into fists. The palm with the cut hurts from it, but he can’t stop. His hands are shaking and so is his voice and so is his entire body, keyed up on adrenaline and pure terror.
It makes them all quiet down again, but now it seems like the words won’t stop pouring out of Isak’s mouth. Just a repeated slew of it doesn’t matter’s that doesn’t answer any of their questions and doesn’t help Isak one bit either.
“How does it not matter?” Mahdi sounds angry. Isak sees Jonas out of the corner of his eye sending Mahdi a warning glance, like he should be careful how he speaks to Isak when Isak is the one who has been lying all along.
“It doesn’t,” is all Isak seems to be able to say. He isn’t shouting anymore. As quickly as all the rage had been built up, the fight rushes out of his body, leaving him deflated and woozy. He’s still breathing too quickly. “It doesn’t matter.”
Jonas isn’t touching his shoulder anymore. As heavy as it had felt, like Isak’s knees were threatening to boggle under the added weight, as unsettling and rejecting does it feel to be let go of, to be standing on his own two feet, suddenly very, very alone.
No one is saying anything. Magnus’ computer screen is still facing Isak. Isak can’t stand to look at it, but he can’t figure out how to tell Magnus to turn it away either.
“You’re marri-“ Magnus starts, but Isak interrupts him harshly.
“Don’t. Just, don’t.” He wants to curl his hands around the countertop to help support him, to keep him standing, but he can’t figure out how to uncurl his hands from the fists they’d formed into, even as he isn’t even clenching them so harshly that they’re shaking anymore.
Magnus is frowning where he’s still sitting at the kitchen table. “I don’t understand.”
Isak doesn’t either. He hasn’t understood anything for a long time.
Please, he wants to beg. Please, just forget about all of it, erase it from your minds, from the internet, but he can’t get his mouth to cooperate. Even if he could, it wouldn’t work. He can’t change the past – not the one that happened five years ago when he first met Even, and not the one that happened five minutes ago when everybody found out about it.
Magnus keeps wording the sentence soundlessly before it apparently makes enough sense for him to try verbally again. “You’re mar-“
“Please!” Isak’s voice breaks and he feels like his legs might give out from underneath him.
“You’re – you’re – to Even –“
“Just don’t, stop,” the pleas are rushing out of Isak’s mouth, but Magnus just continues going over and over it without actually getting any of the words out.
Mahdi is shuffling between his two feet from where he’s standing next to him on his left, but Jonas is standing stock-still, gaze unwavering from Isak. It makes him feel like he might be going out of his own skin from how uncomfortable he is, but also like his mind is so overworked that he can’t handle this small thing on top of everything else that his mind is slowly shutting down.
“This is why,” Mahdi mutters, just loudly enough that Isak can hear him over Magnus’ ranting. “This is why.”
He repeats it one more time, like it’s the answer to every question Mahdi has ever asked, and Isak thinks that maybe it is, but that only makes something disgusting curl in on itself in his stomach.
“I can’t believe you’ve been – this entire time and with – with Even none the less!” Magnus is still going on.
But I’m not, Isak thinks he should say, because he isn’t, hasn’t been for a long time now. With every word that comes out of Magnus’ mouth, Isak feels a part of him give up. He’s been fighting for so long, and now it’s all been in vain, because everyone knows now. Everyone knows.
Isak doesn’t cry. He thinks he might’ve forgotten how to, he’s spent so long forcing himself not to after all. Now all he’s left with is a blissfully terrifying numbness that’s only ever overpowered by an encompassing anxiousness.
“It doesn’t matter,” it sounds too small. Mahdi snorts, unimpressed.
“Of course it fucking matters,” Mahdi swears. Isak might’ve flinched had he not felt like he’s not currently in control of his own body. The only thing he actually feels are his cheeks and his neck, which feel freezing compared to the heat filling his cheeks. “Why would it fucking not?”
“Because it doesn’t!” Isak tries to put more power behind his words, but he can’t tell if he succeeds. He sounds like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum, just repeating the same words over and over again. “It doesn’t matter, so can we just forget about it?”
He goes to leave again, but Mahdi steps in front of him so quickly Isak can only flinch and fall backwards into the counter again.
“We really can’t,” Mahdi sounds mean, and if there’s one thing Mahdi isn’t, it’s mean. Isak can’t seem to draw in his next breath. “Because there’s a picture in an official article that mentions you by name that says that you’re –“
“It doesn’t –“ Isak tries again, but Mahdi doesn’t let him.
“It does! You’re marr-“
“I’m not!” There are tears threatening to prickle in the corners of his eyes despite how numb Isak still feels. His heart feels like it’s permanently lodged in his throat, keeping him from breathing properly no matter how badly he tries. “I’m not, I’m not –“
Magnus’ brows are furrowed. “So it’s lying –“
“I’m not,” Isak tries again. “It doesn’t fucking matter, any of it, because I’m not – we’re not – we haven’t been for years! I signed the papers and everything and it doesn’t –“
He can’t get the last it doesn’t matter out. Isak doesn’t think it actually makes a difference based on the stricken looks on the boys’ faces at that confession. Mahdi looks like he might want to cry, and Magnus is looking so terribly confused, and Jonas seems to be looking at him in pure horror. It makes everything hurt worse.
His body is slowly starting to prickle to life again. It hurts and Isak hadn’t thought he could feel more pain than what he’d already been feeling. There’s something cold pressed into his hand, and Isak looks down to see he’s still holding the paper towel, pressed together and nearly wrung out from how hard he’d been clenching around it.
“That’s what’s been going on,” Magnus says, almost apologetically, except he doesn’t look it. “That’s why you’ve been –“
It doesn’t matter, Isak wants to shout, but he doesn’t. His throat and chest feel too tight for him to say much of anything.
“Holy shit,” Mahdi shakes his head and repeats it. “Holy shit.”
The paper towel feels like a sad, wet clump, slowly falling apart in his hand already. Isak shouldn’t be able to relate to a paper towel.
“You’re sad,” Jonas breathes out, like it’s a big revelation. It’s the first thing he’s said since he’d dragged Isak back from his attempted escape.
Isak wants to laugh, because, duh, but he fears he might let out a sob instead, so he just grits out an “I’m fine,” because he’s supposed to be at this point, it’s been so long, and hopes that’s the end of this discussion.
It isn’t. Jonas looks even worse after that. They all do.
“Why have you never said anything?” Mahdi asks, but it gets drowned out by Magnus talking at the same time.
“Since when are you gay?” Magnus asks and that – that was the question Isak had always dreaded to hear. He doesn’t actually know what to do now when it’s finally been asked.
“Magnus!” Jonas hisses. “You can’t just ask that!”
“Figured you would’ve been paying a bit more attention to the Even-part, anyway,” Mahdi mutters and Isak can’t look at either of them.
Magnus shrugs. “We’re all a little bit gay for Even Bech Næsheim.”
It startles a laugh out of him, or maybe not, because the noise that comes out of his mouth is a little too wet, too desperate, too raw to really be a laugh. It makes everyone look like they’re so impossibly out of their wits, but Isak can hardly focus on it, because – this is it.
This is the moment he’s been dreading, the one he’s had nightmares about or the one he’s been unable to sleep because he’d spend the night worrying instead. This is it.
And Isak isn’t ready for it.
“I can’t,” Isak stutters out, gasping in a breath that seems too out of place with how little he’d actually said, but it’s like there’s no air left inside of him. “I need to –“
He stumbles to his left, barely managing to right himself before he barrels into Mahdi.
Mahdi reaches out for him, like he isn’t sure if he’s supposed to catch him or if he’s supposed to stop him from leaving, but he steps back when Isak nearly manages to fall over again from avoiding being touched by him.
“Wait!” Magnus stands up so quickly the chair nearly falls backwards before it manages to right itself. “Don’t leave, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean –“
Jonas tries to reach out to touch his shoulder again, but aborts the movement so his hands are just hanging midair. He must’ve been able to see something on Isak’s face that the last thing he wants right now is to be touched.
“Sorry,” Jonas says, and Isak doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for. “We won’t say anything about it again, just – please don’t run away again, okay?”
But Isak can’t – he can’t stay in this flat, he can’t be here right now. He can’t stand having to look his best friends in the eye and know that not only do they now know he’s been lying to them, they know.
“I can’t be here,” Isak stumbles over the words and tries to curl in on himself, despite how he feels like he’s only a couple of inches tall right now.
They all look a little more broken at that.
“I promise we won’t talk about it. Why don’t we just go into the living room, sit down for a little bit? I promise we won’t –“
He doesn’t get to finish, because Isak can’t – he can’t stay, he can hardly breathe, hasn’t known how to do that for so long now. If he can’t even figure out how to breathe he doesn’t feel ready to figure out how to stay.
He can’t even look at them properly. They all look so hurt and it’s all Isak’s fault, and he knows he should feel worse about it, but all he’s feeling is the looping panic of they know.
“I can’t be here,” Isak repeats more firmly. It makes Jonas’ mouth snap shut so quickly Isak almost would’ve thought he was angry, but he just looks like he doesn’t know what to do.
Mahdi looks like he wants to argue, but Magnus gets there first.
“Where do you want to go, then?”
Three heads snap over to look at him, but Magnus doesn’t seem fazed, doesn’t move his attention away from Isak.
Magnus sighs. “I – we can’t have you run out on us again, alright? I’ve been constantly terrified that I’ll do something to make you run again and that will be the last time we ever see you,” Magnus looks out the window. Isak feels even heavier without his gaze on him. “So just – if you want to leave, fine, but I can’t – just let us know where you’re going and if – when you’re coming back.”
If. The if repeats itself in Isak’s head. If, if, if.
Somehow, despite everything else that’s going on, it’s that if that makes him tear up.
“Eskild’s,” tumbles out of Isak’s mouth before he can even think about it. It’s his default answer, has been for years, ever since they met, that if he’s in trouble he’ll go to Eskild’s. “I’ll go to Eskild’s.”
Jonas sighs, but nods, even as he looks like it’s the last thing he wants. Mahdi and Magnus don’t look particularly fond of letting him out of their sights either, but they don’t say anything when Jonas fishes his phone out of his pocket, unlocks it and hands it over to Isak.
“Here,” he says. He stretches his arm out so he won’t have to move closer. “Just call him up, tell him you’re coming. Do you have his number?”
Isak’s hand is shaking when he reaches out to grab the phone. He sees how they all notice, but then they all divert their attention away from it.
He’s got the number memorized, had spent ages tracing over it, both the numbers and the pattern on a phone, back when he’d first gotten the number and had been terrified someone would gain access to his phone and leaf through it, discovering an odd contact.
Eskild picks up on the fourth ring.
“Hello?” he sounds cautious and Isak barely registers that it’s from having an unknown number call him.
“H-hey,” Isak has to clear his throat, has to do something to stop feeling like he’s about to burst out crying just at the sound of Eskild’s voice. “It’s me.”
“Isak?” Eskild sounds more urgent now, and Isak can hear things moving around in the background, like Eskild’s getting ready to leave, ready to come get him. Isak doesn’t think he’s ever deserved having Eskild in his life. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“Can I –“ Isak pinches his eyes closed. It’s only a matter of time before Eskild finds out anyway, Isak should be the one to tell him.
But the words won’t come out of his mouth. He never figured out how to say the words, he isn’t ready, never has been.
“Can I come over? Are you home?” he asks instead.
Isak barely waits for Eskild’s affirmation before he just about throws the phone back in Jonas’ hand and tails it out of there, going to grab his coat. Mahdi follows behind, just to check that he’s actually putting on his shoes before he leaves. They can still hear Eskild’s voice over the phone, rambling, even if the words aren’t distinguishable.
“Hello?” Jonas says, finally turning the phone the right way up so he can talk. “Eskild? Yeah, Isak’s leaving now. It’s, uh – it’s a bit complicated.”
Isak wants to snort as he stuffs his feet into his shoes. His hands are still shaking when he tries to unlock the door. Mahdi has to come over and do it for him. It makes Isak feel so useless and so desperate and just so much worse overall.
“You should probably look it up before he gets there.” Is the last thing Isak hears before the door smacks shut behind him. “Just google –“
OOOOO
Isak doesn’t have a key to the Kollektiv anymore. Hadn’t really had one when he’d lived there, either. He’d been using a spare of Eskild’s, his backup plan for if he ever lost his keys whilst he was at work. It had made Isak feel good that technically that meant Isak was now Eskild’s backup plan, was how Eskild had explained it to him, with a large smile and a gentle nudge with his shoulder.
Jonas is waiting by the foot of the stairs patiently, waiting to make sure Isak doesn’t… run off or get himself hurt, or just gets there safely. He’s out of Isak’s sight, but Isak can still hear him there, had heard him all of the way over.
He rings the doorbell again, but Eskild gets to the door first, so Isak just has to hear the melody play out clearly without the door serving as a barrier.
“Isak,” Eskild breathes out. He’s slumping down where he’s standing in the open doorway, like seeing Isak in front of him made someone cut off the strings holding him up. “Isak.”
And Isak can’t handle how desperate Eskild sounds, how desperately sad and desperately hurt. Isak lets out an involuntary equally hurt whine and throws himself at Eskild.
Eskild ends up fumbling to grab onto the door so he won’t fall from the impact, but once he’s gained his balance his arms fold around Isak and hold on to him so tightly it hurts to breathe.
Eskild pulls him in and hugs him so tightly it hurts to breathe, but it feels so good. It feels like how it should feel getting a hug from his mom, if she’d ever hugged him that is. He shouldn’t be thinking about that. It doesn’t matter and this is better anyway.
They stand there for ages. Isak wants to sob, but it’s the first time in ages he feels like he can breathe. Maybe it’s just because he always knew he would be able to do that with Eskild.
“Why did you never tell me?” And fuck, Eskild’s hurt, Isak made Eskild hurt.
It’s all everybody wants to know, why didn’t he say anything, but what would he even have said? Hey, do you remember how I’ve denied being gay the entire time I’ve known you? Well, guess what!
“I couldn’t,” he chokes out, his throat tightening. “I couldn’t, I –“
Isak feels a sob threatening to burst out of his throat. Maybe Eskild can sense it, because he brings him inside the apartment and shuts the front door behind him. The click of the lock and the slam of the door sound final.
Past
Even borrows his parents’ car, a grey thing that looks older than it is, without Isak knowing about it, or knowing why he does it.
It’s still early in the morning when Even texts him to go outside. Isak had immediately replied with an ugh with too many of every letter to tell Even how not amused he was at the prospect of wandering down four flights of stairs just to come down and kiss Even good morning – something he could do, mind you, if Even actually just came home or hadn’t left the bed at arse-o’clock in the morning.
But because Isak is a good fiancée, he walks down every flight of stairs with every intention of bitching Even out before dragging him back inside to kiss him.
It’s close to stifling already outside, even as Isak’s only standing in joggers and a t-shirt. There’s no breeze to take the brunt of the heat. It’ll be horrible later in the day when their apartment will start slowly cooking them.
He doesn’t see Even until the honking startles him. He whips towards the direction of the sound and sees Even behind the wheel, window rolled down and left arm hanging halfway out. He’s grinning widely at Isak, but Isak sees the strain to it, right in the corner of his mouth, revealing the slight tension there is to him. He’s also wearing his sunglasses, so Isak can’t see his eyes and make out what he’s really feeling.
“Hey, there,” Even drawls dramatically, doing an exaggerated nod of his head like he’s checking Isak out. It’s dumb and it’s stupid and it still makes Isak flush and giggle like a schoolgirl. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”
‘A place like this’ is in fact in front of their apartment complex in Oslo in one of the cheaper areas, but by no means not well-respected. That’s not the point, though, so Isak leans his weight against the car, forcing Even to bodily turn around in his seat to keep looking at him.
“Oh, mister, I’m terribly lost,” he plays it up, batting his eyelashes until Even has to fight to keep the laugh down. “Can you help me?”
“Sure thing, sweetcheeks,” except it’s done in an American accent, and ‘thing’ sounds more like ‘thang’, making Isak snort. Even grins and nods towards the passenger seat. “Hop on in; I’ll give you the ride of your life.”
“What, the car or your dick?”
“Isak!” Even admonishes playfully, playing up the faux-offence by gaping disbelievingly. It’s stupid and Isak’s still grinning.
“Where’d you get this thing, anyway?” Isak pats the part where Even’s window refuses to roll down entirely. Even catches his fingers and brings them casually to his lips.
There’s no one around. They both know this, they’ve both checked. It still makes Isak’s heart pound faster for not all the right reasons.
“Borrowed it from my parents.” Even looks down at where he carefully places Isak’s fingers back on the window. He doesn’t look back up at Isak’s face, and the tension is back at the corner of his mouth, in the line of his shoulders. “They think I’m taking the boys for a trip.”
Isak feels immensely guilty. It bowls over him, leaving him feeling off-kilter and vaguely disgusted with himself for not being better, being more right.
He knows it’s always been a strain on Even to lie to his parents like he is – maybe not at first, when they were trying it out, or when they decided they were official. But ever since they moved in together and Even had to tell his parents they had to call before coming over so they could mask the fact Even wasn’t living alone in a one-bedroom apartment, Even has tended to isolate himself from his parents, and it’s wearing him down. He won’t tell Isak that, but Isak can tell without Even saying the words.
“And what are we actually doing?” Isak asks, but he doesn’t wait for Even to answer before he walks in front of the hood, crossing to the other side of the car and slides into the passenger seat.
Even’s eyes are soft, his whole expression practically screaming fond, which makes Isak squirm slightly in his seat from butterflies flapping around in his stomach. Isak prompts Even to start talking by lightly puffing Even with his shoulder.
“It’s not quite a white limo Tesla,” Even grins crookedly, but there’s an apologetic twinge to it and the tension still hasn’t left him entirely.
Isak reaches over for him, rubs his thumb along the corner of his mouth until the downward curl of it smoothes out. “I don’t need a Tesla,” he tells him, because he doesn’t. “I’d much rather just get to have you.”
He can tell Even wants to kiss him, but he doesn’t. As the time comes closer to nine, people start showing up, and it’s a regular car with no tint to the windows.
“You just want me because I can drive this thing,” Even teases instead, patting the steering wheel.
“I got into this deathtrap for you, the least you can do is maneuver it around. Which reminds me, what are we doing?”
“Ah!” Even holds up a finger, mock-serious expression on his face as he signals for Isak to wait – which he does, skeptically.
Even undoes his seatbelt with a click, and then contorts his body weirdly in a twist to reach onto the backseat. Isak can’t tell what he’s doing, but he can hear the crinkle of something – paper? – confirmed when Even thrusts a stack of papers into his hands.
“Here you go!” He’s practically vibrating with excitement, his eyes sparkling, and for a second he’s so captivating Isak literally, despite the immense curiosity, can’t look away from him.
The papers are still neat and pressed, only slightly wavy from the ink of the large pictures having long dried.
“What –“ Isak trails off as his eyes skim over the first paper in the stack. A photograph takes up more than half of the first page, depicting a rather idyllic place, taken from the terrace of some house, cabin maybe, Isak presumes, showing the horizon of clear water and typical Norwegian nature of rocks, cliffs, and trees. You can just see two chairs and a small table in the foreground, but it’s obvious the nature is supposed to be the selling point.
On the remaining part of the paper, there’s text, starting with a greeting and a thank you for booking which makes Isak’s heart rate pick up exponentially.
He skips over the text, goes straight to the next picture – a bedroom, white sheets and a window letting in what appears to be morning light – and the next picture – a small kitchen connected to a dining area – to the next picture – the living room with more couches and chairs than Isak and Even will be able to fill. Isak goes back to the thank you for booking! and looks for a date, a place, any indication of what the hell is Even up to.
Today. It’s booked from today. A couple of hours away from Oslo, the distance manageable even if they would’ve had to do it by bus.
“What is this?” he looks up at Even, then back down at the papers because he can’t believe it, then back up at Even because he can’t believe it.
Even’s truly grinning by now. “Well,” he starts, trying to appear suave and not succeeding at all, “I was thinking it might be a really great honeymoon spot.”
Isak’s heart stops. He thinks his hands might be shaking, his entire body is.
When he manages to look up from the papers, Even’s already holding up his phone, showing the e-mail that they’ve got a slot at Oslo’s City Hall today.
Isak’s out of his seat before his brain catches up.
He leaps across the gear stick to get to Even, only taking enough care not to accidentally brain him or knock him out in his haste. He hears the papers crinkle alarmingly and distantly hopes there was nothing essential on them that can’t be salvaged by a bit of smoothing out.
Even’s laughing and wrapping his arms around Isak, drawing him in closer. It’s a bit awkward, seeing as Isak’s legs are too long and also a bit stuck at the footrest of the passenger’s seat, the rest of his body draped over Even’s. He never wants to let go.
“Are you serious?” he asks, voice muffled a bit from where his mouth is pressing against Even’s shoulder.
Even laughs. “One hundred percent, baby.”
Isak doesn’t know what to do with himself. He feels too light and too heavy and too full and he’s so in fucking love. He can literally feel his brain not able to process everything that’s happening, can feel his body reacting to the shock of it. His eyes start watering, his shoulders shaking. He sniffles.
Even twitches. “Are you crying?”
Isak doesn’t even have to look at him to know he’s smiling, the asshole.
“It’s allergies,” Isak protests, presses his face harder against Even’s shoulder, his tears probably wetting the fabric, but if Even tries to make fun of him, Isak will tell him it’s snot.
Even laughs, loudly and unapologetic, his entire body shaking underneath Isak. It’s familiar and comforting, and it might even make Isak cry harder.
“To weddings?” Even finally manages to ask. “Or just your own?”
Had it been anyone else Isak would’ve been annoyed with them, but he hears the teasing in Even’s lilt and his arms are holding him tightly against his chest, hands gentle as he rubs his back.
If they ever are to tell anyone, which Isak sincerely doubts, he’ll make sure Even won’t mention this part.
Knowing Even, he’ll specifically do it just to get Isak huffy so he can kiss him sweet and pliant.
“Weddings,” Isak answers, drawing back and wiping shyly at his eyes. Even’s staring at him like he never wants to see anything else the rest of his life. “But my own might be an exception.”
Even grins, his hands smoothing up and down Isak’s sides. “Should we go check, then?”
A laugh bubbles out of Isak’s throat, a bit wet and it makes a few more tears spill over and down his cheeks. He nods, keeps nodding until Even’s laughing and nodding as well, leaning forward until their noses brush. Isak doesn’t even have it in him to check if anyone’s nearby, can’t look anywhere else than at Even.
It’s the first time they kiss in public when the sun is shining and they’re not tucked away in an alley or behind a shed in the bushes.
“I’m always serious about you,” Even tells him when he pulls back. His eyes are wet too. “And I seriously want to marry you. Today.”
Isak grins, presses another peck to Even’s mouth. “Let’s go do this, then.”
OOOOO
Even’s the only one who has a full suit – or, something close to a full suit, the jacket a little too modern and wonky to fit formal wear outside an artistic gathering. By the time they make it to City Hall it’s too hot to wear a jacket anyway, which leaves them wearing chinos, Even in a white button-down and Isak in a grey button-down with short sleeves.
They’re both hot and sweaty, lungs hurting from laughing whilst running from the parking space they’d gotten ages away and through the hallways so they wouldn’t miss their appointment.
The officiator doesn’t bat an eye at the two of them being boys, but he does look surprised and then pitiful at the completely empty hall that he has to perform the ceremony for. The guilt churns around in his stomach when Isak forces himself not to think about Eskild, whom he knows would not only be happy to witness but happy for him – once he got over the shock of never having been told. He knows Even’s thinking the same about his own friends, his parents. They’ve both got people they want to be here, they’ve just… never told them.
They end up pulling two secretaries on their lunch break in to witness. They’re two elder ladies, and one’s smile reminds Isak of his mother so much from when she was well, when she still recognized him, that he almost wants to give her a hug.
It’s a quick ceremony, only a little more than ten minutes. The remaining paperwork doesn’t take nearly as long as the initial paperwork had, and then –
Even’s eyes are sparkling, Isak knows his own are too. God. God. And then they’re married.
It’s the first time in – ever that Isak doesn’t care who is watching, that there are now essentially three strangers who know about him, who know about him and Even, and he doesn’t care because he’s married and he’s going to kiss Even.
He nearly tackles Even with how he bodily throws himself at him, but Even had been prepared and only laughs as he wraps his arms around Isak’s body, holds him close and leans down so he can kiss him again.
No one throws rice at them since it isn’t allowed, but Isak doesn’t mind. Can’t really seem to mind when Even’s holding his hand right until they get to the entrance, and then they’re both running again to get back to the car, to get to whatever Even has planned, to get to be alone, for Isak to get to kiss his husband.
The car ride takes simultaneously longer and quicker than it should to get to the cabin – Even’s driving just a bit too fast, not enough to make Isak anxious, but enough that he gains time, but then they have to pull over at rest stops or park behind gas stations just to laugh or press their lips together or be married.
It’s well into the evening by the time they get there. Their legs are tired from being cramped up for so long, so they park down by the beach instead of by the cabin.
“What’s all this, then?” Isak keeps looking at the scenery, then back to Even, then back on the beach, back to Even again.
It’s windy. His hair keeps getting pushed down in front of his eyes. Even is holding both of his hands, though, so he can’t brush it away.
It’s not important, anyway. He can see Even clearly. Can see him smiling and his eyes, bright and blue and happy and Isak fills giddy with it, even with the confusion.
“Your beach story,” Even tells him, finally stops walking backwards but keeps pulling Isak towards him until they’re pushed together and it’s easy to lean down and kiss him.
The cabin is as lovely as it had been on the photos. It’s the exact same, but with a larger deck than Isak had thought it would have. They sit there, eating pizza that’s lukewarm with how much time has passed since they picked it up at the closest pizzeria.
The cabin itself is secluded, hidden away in a corner of the universe that Isak and Even are taking for themselves. There are other cabins nearby, they both know, but they can’t see any from where they are.
So when the sun is setting, the last rays reflecting in the water, the sky colored pink and yellow and orange, a few crusts scattered around in the cardboard box all that’s left of the pizza, Isak doesn’t hesitate to climb into Even’s lap and kiss him.
The wind is colder than it’s been all day with the night settling in, but Even’s a warm heat pressed against Isak’s chest, between his thighs, his hands warm as they slip underneath Isak’s t-shirt and roam across his back.
Their lips smack against each other’s a lot louder than they’ve ever dared to before when not hidden away under covers or behind locked doors. It’s liberating. Isak feels like he could float away right where he is, would spend an eternity right here in this moment if the universe would let them.
“I love you,” Even whispers, the words broken apart by their lips. Isak’s too busy enthusiastically kissing him to say it back, so he says it with soft touches, with his thumb smoothing down along the curve of Even’s eyebrow, down to his cheekbones.
I love you, too he screams in his head. I love you, I love you, I love you.
Isak gets lost in Even. Can’t remember that he’d already started undressing him before they got inside until the next day when they find Even’s belt and button-down next to the now empty cardboard box that’s been picked clean of pizza by the birds and any other creatures to have passed by. All he remembers is Even, Even, Even.
Even kissing him; his mouth, his neck, his chest, his thighs. Even inside of him. Even crying as he tells Isak he loves him, that he’s so fucking happy.
They wake up in a bed with messed up white sheets, the sun shining in because neither of them had thought about drawing the curtains.
It’s stupidly early because of the Norwegian sunrises, so they just lie there for ages, lips moving over lips lazily until they drift off. When Isak wakes up again, Even’s lips are smushed against his cheek, his nose scrunches up periodically every time Isak blinks, his eyelashes tickling Even’s skin.
He giggles as it happens, then has to kiss Even awake. From there it’s easy to roll onto his back, pulling Even along with him until Even can sink in where Isak’s still wet and open from last night.
They spend long mornings in bed. Then Even makes them scrambled eggs, and Isak distracts him by ‘apparently’ eating berries suggestively, which Isak will deny until the day he dies, so they don’t actually end up eating before the eggs have gone cold. They’re still good, though.
They go down to the beach, they sit on the rocks, messing around, they explore their surroundings without going too far to risk accidentally bumping into anyone else, bursting the bubble they’re in.
Even films them for a bit, just small tidbits. Tells Isak that one day he’ll use it in the greatest film he’ll ever make, the one about Isak.
Isak blushes and tells Even he’s an idiot, and any movie he’d make about Isak would be a pompous piece of shit that Isak can’t have associated with his name, it would be slander. Even laughs and kisses him quiet as Isak tries not to think about how Even is currently giving him the story he promised him over the phone years ago by now. A story on the beach. One that isn’t sad, one where the two people in love do end up together. That means more to Isak than anything else.
All in all, Isak can’t imagine a better honeymoon. Has to kiss Even until his lips are swollen and numb whenever he thinks it.
They don’t exchange rings.
Neither of them really wears any rings anyway, but wearing one on their ring finger can only mean one thing, and they still don’t know how to answer people’s questions were they to ask, “Oh? Who’s your wife?”
Instead, Even makes Isak a flower crown out of dandelions that’s quite shoddy at best, and a few petals and leaves keep falling off, but Isak loves it and can’t stop smiling. That romantic fool, of course he had to make a subtle reference to how they met.
Isak slips Even a little note that’s folded in half. Even’s eyes are shiny when he reads the single sentence Isak has written.
This will be epic all on its own.
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