#this is why we use the blue dice

[deadsetobsessions]

“I ate paint once,” Danny nonchalantly threw out in the middle of game night.

The entire table stopped. Heads whipped towards Danny.

“Yeah, me too. Cardamom yellow was my favorite. Ugly as hell but the chemicals just tasted right.” Tim replied, using the distraction to nab some of Bruce’s money. Monopoly money, that is. Everyone’s heads snapped towards Tim, only Cass and Danny (who was part of the scheme) caught him cheating.

“Really? I think mine was those spray can blue cosmos paint. But that might have been more my thing for space than the actual taste.”

“WHY WERE YOU EATING PAINT?!” Dick asked, looking like he wanted to lunge over the table and shake Danny until he puked out paint. Bruce looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Tim?” Jason snickered.

“In my defense,” Danny grinned. “I was left unsupervised. Also, Steph, you owe me $24 in rent.”

“Ugh! I’m almost out of money! Can’t you loan me some, Alfred?”

“I am sorry, Miss Stephanie, you are not qualified for another loan. In fact, one of your properties is about to be confiscated as per the collateral agreement.”

“Noooo!” Stephanie made dramatic dying noises.

“What was your excuse, Timothy?” Damian asked, eyes glued to the board and determined to win the game.

“Hey, I was probably less supervised than Danny was.”

“Yeah,” Danny perked up. “My parents brought us down to their lab all of the time. Taught us a lot of stuff.”

“Really? Like what?” Duke asked, casually slapping away Tim’s sneaky hands.

“Oh, like what a rocket launcher sounded like up close! And how to build a laser gun! Oh! And what human organs looked like when they’re fresh!” Danny chirped, collecting his money from a stunned Stephanie’s hands. He looked up.

“Oh, don’t worry! I at least learned what not to do when it comes to lab safety. And we wore hazmat suits to protect ourselves from the radiation.” Danny smiled in a ditzy fashion as the table fell silent in a horrified manner. Cass tapped his arm amusedly, but allowed his bullshit to stand. After all, it’s not like he lied.

“Radiation?” Duck’s voice raised a couple of octaves. Oh yeah, Danny’s going to laugh about that pitch for a long while.

“Organs?!” Jason’s hands closed around the plastic house he was holding rather forcefully.

“Do you even know what basic lab safety practices are, Danny?” Damian demanded, finally looking up with brows furrowed. He rolled the dice and grabbed a mystery card. He gets $100 from Alfred.

“How old were you??” Duke asked.

“Like… 8, when they first brought me in?”

“Eight.” Bruce rumbled, slipping into a more Batman like persona. When Danny sent him a confused look, Bruce straightened back into his Bruce persona. “Wow, they must have trusted you a lot!”

“Sure?”

“What were their names again?” Stephanie asked sweetly, Cass nodding at him.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Not that they’ll find them here, considering his parents are dead and in another universe.

“Cool, cool, cool!” Stephanie blinked, beaming as her hands formed lethal fists underneath the table.

Danny blinked and tilted his head in an unassuming way, pretending like he had no idea what Stephanie was thinking of. He sneakily handed over $600 to Cass in order to complete his monopoly on his side of the board.

Danny stood up and spread his hands out, one hand clutching his new found victory.

"Well, lady and gents, you've all been floundering against the inevitable tide of capitalism. I am here, as a reminder that you can never win against the hopelessness that will be your financial ruin! I, Danny Fenton, have obtained a quarter of the board and therefore have won against even your best efforts!" He cackled, holding up his fan of properties triumphantly. He shot a mischievous grin at Cass, who held up a solemn thumbs up in support for his monetary takeover.

"... Danny, are you... planning on a career in villainy?" Bruce asked, after a brief and total wave of shocked silence. Damian looked like he was having a conniption at having been bested, unknowingly. Yeah, Danny was disarming like that.

"Yeah, that was concerning." Tim piped up, nabbing a ten from a shell-shocked Damian.

"Hey! The Riddler gives surprisingly good monologues! And he's really loud, so it's hard not to pick up on things. Duke, your turn." Danny sat back down, pouting. The villainy comment was a little too close to his fears.

"Damn it." Duke, who had rolled, landed smack middle of Danny's territory. He handed over a sheaf of bills to a grinning Danny.

"Wait a minute! You have cheated!" Damian bolted upwards from his seat, finally done running through the purchases he remembered Danny making. "You acquired that property not within the games' rules!"

"Okay, first of all, the rule book is a suggestion, like lab safety rules," Danny saw the others open their mouths to protest, but he quickly shut it down. "Second, there's totally no rules about selling and buying places from a private owner so suck on it. And thirdly? Cass sold it to me, so you all can take it up with her."

"Diabolical!" Damian muttered indignantly.

"... Dammit." Dick sighed, falling back into the chair and balancing on its two legs. He couldn't say anything, considering his current of bankruptcy.

"Danny. Danny, I'll buy a property from you." Jason said, eyeing one of Danny's other properties near his own cluster.

"What do you have that would interest me?" Danny asked, falling back into his Vlad-like imitation.

"Ew, don't do that," Steph reached over to jab him in the arm.

"Yeah, Jason, what do you have?" Duke said, the lovely subtle instigator that he is.

"Red Hood's signature."

The others blue-screen, gaping at the actual audacity Jason had to offer up something that would take him no effort. Danny, prepared with a poker face that came with lying straight to Jazz's ever perceptive eyes about whether he nabbed the last of her ice cream or not, was prepared.

"Red Hood? The condom guy working out of the... um. Upper East Side?" Danny asked, pretending to hesitate. He knows where Jason operated. That doesn't mean he couldn't simply pretend otherwise. For science, of course.

...

...

...

The table howled with laughter, Jason's indignant spluttering unable to say anything against Danny's wide eyed look of innocence. Cass leaned against the table, chuckles falling out of her mouth and eyes crinkled in mirth. Dick had fallen out of his chair, helplessly wheezing on the floor. Duke is hiding his face in his hands, mirroring Bruce's pose as they both shake from silent laughter. Damian is smirking, wicked and sharp as he smugly stared at Jason. Stephanie and Tim are leaning against each other, repeating "the CONDOM GUY" in alternating and increasingly louder voices. Alfred had a smile on his face and a tight grip on the bills in front of him that betrayed his amusement.

"He's a crime lord!" Jason exclaimed, indignant.

"Uh, okay. Well, I mean, why would I want a crime lord's signature? I don't want to be on his radar. Or echolocation or whatever. He's... a Bat, right? That's what you guys call that group, yeah?"

"How do you know the Rogues better than the vigilantes?!" Jason glared at his unhelpful family. Those assholes better prepare for a load of rubber bullets the next time they're on patrol near Crime Alley.

"Hey, it's not my fault the vigilantes here are unsociable. Maybe if they monologued more, I'd know who they are."

"Wouldn't- wouldn't that make them more villain like?" Tim asked, stuttering from his laughter.

"I dunno?" Danny replied, enjoying his the family's unabashed joy. "I mean, they're pretty legit and they help people already so I guess they don't need to be sociable... but still I swear I haven't heard anything about Batman other than that he grunts and is mean towards criminals."

Is mean towards criminals, Duke mouthed at a recovering Dick who was in the process of heaving himself back up. It sent him careening back down to the floor with restrained giggles. Cass tapped Danny, reminding him to eat some food.

"Tt. Of course not. They're efficient at their jobs and have no need to be seen as welcoming to criminals." Damian puffed up.

"Yeah, but they've gotta feel safe, right?" Danny shrugged as he plucked a cookie from the cookie platter. "The... one with the sword, what was it?"

"Robin." Damian supplied, eyes narrowed and trained on him.

"Yeah, the baby bird. The kids think his swords are cool so they trust him. But like, the others? The flippy blue one? Not so much."

"Wait," Dick said from the floor. "They don't trust Nightwing?"

"Nah, they trust him to protect them, but he has a history of bringing the kids to the police, you know?"

"What's wrong with that?"

Danny shrugged. "ACAB. But also because everybody knows that half the guys in the GCPD and CPS are child traffickers."

"Wait, what?" Jason and Tim straightened.

Bruce piped in, the emotional whiplash of amusement to concern to amusement to concern visibly making itself known on the man's baffled face. "I thought Batman and Commissioner Gordon took care of that?"

"Sure, the obvious ones." Danny hesitated. Well, he's pretty sure they think he's a meta so... "There's... a meta trafficking ring that they're a part of. That's. That's kind of what I was running from."

Danny looked up pleadingly. Cass placed a hand on his arm in comfort, not knowing that he was fibbing about running from them.

Danny was on the streets helping his own Alley metas to run from them.

Danny is as feral as she was, and that meant he could hide just as much as she could read off of him. Cass was the best and he felt kind of bad about lying to her, successfully or not.

"Uh. Some people said you know Batman, Bruce. I know- uh, that might not be the case but if you do, could you ask him to look into it?" Danny made his eyes tear up. "And maybe he wouldn't care about me much, I mean, I know he doesn't really like metas but if he helps out, I could totally like, leave the city once the kids are safe, promise."

Ooh, Danny put a little too much sincerity into that. He could practically hear the hearts breaking in the game room as everyone glared at Bruce.

"You won't have to leave."

"... Promise?" And Danny's voice was a little too desperate, too hopeful, because Bruce's eyes tugged down in sadness.

"Promise." He rumbled, all Bruce Wayne and all Batman. Danny's core warmed. Danny also saw the rest of the family's faces darken in pure agreement. And partial wrath.

"Yeah! We'll kick Batman's ass if he even thought about kicking you out!" Stephanie proclaimed.

"He's far more proficient in combat than you are, Brown." Damian immediately leapt to Batman's defense and that was that.

Well, later, as Danny was "sleeping" and Phantom was hovering in the cave, invisible and intangible, he got confirmation that his Alley meta kids were going to be safe, soon.

After all, the entire Batclan was suiting up and baying for blood, with Oracle's all encompassing presence behind them, fingers reaching for their enemies' weak points.

[fatuismooches]

cor meum, manus tuas.

synopsis: After your illness strikes again, Dottore decides to gift you a failed experi-, a new companion in order to soothe your injured heart.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: A cute fluff fic where Dottie gives you Foxttore and the pufflings as a pet (the blue monster creature from Nahida's fairy tale.) He loves you a lot. Really just pure fluff and Foxttore getting on Dottore's nerves. Enjoy!

For as long as Il Dottore had known you, you had always been one to suggest things that he had no interest in. It was a habit of yours, and sometimes he’s not sure if you’re being genuine about it or if you simply want to rile him up, as you usually do.

One such example was back in the Akademiya when the two of you finally successfully reversed-engineered one of those machines after a painstaking amount of work. It was arduous and tiring, but immensely rewarding. Oh, he had so many ideas and things to do now, but you- you had other plans.

“So, now that we’ve got it under our control, I think we should program it to have some new tricks.” Zandik had paused at your words, as for once that was a good idea. He wondered what the limit of such a killing machine could possibly be.

“Go on.”

“Alright, imagine this, it’s about to swoop in and land the finishing blow, but instead, a whole bunch of confetti pops out and-”

“No.”

“You can’t even pick up a sword properly. You know nothing about fighting like I do! Just hear me out, it’ll be a great distraction because they’d never be expecting that, and boom, that’s where the real attack comes in.”

“No.” (Later on, he found out that you’d programmed the thing to have a single flower shoot out, just for him. He swiftly removed it after you were done laughing.) 

Or when you had begged and pleaded with him to let you teach him how to cook, just once. It was no secret you were always the one on cooking duty during the Akademiya, for he had a severe lack of skill for it. Furthermore, Zandik had no interest in it, not having the time or patience for something just meant as sustenance. You, however, were insistent on at least teaching him the basics, for it was no way for a student to live (according to you.)

The slicing and dicing went well enough, but the moment you turned your back for a few moments, he had somehow set the smoke detector off, and the Akademiya’s dorm director gave you two a good scolding. You learned your lesson after this particular incident, but from your giggles, he knew you didn’t feel an ounce of regret.

Your antics were truly something he wouldn’t get used to. And now, over four hundred years later, your teasing nature had remained the same, only that it became more verbal as you didn’t have the strength to pull off your elaborate plans anymore.

Which is why lately you had been clinging to him with pleading eyes and a jutted lip, vehemently asking for a pet despite his numerous rejections, going so far as to try and recruit other segments (who, unfortunately for you, did not join your cause.)

“Please honey, my darling, my beloved, my-”

“My answer is not going to change, [Name]. I will not tolerate anything running around and causing a mess.”

“Aww, but come on. I know you love cats. I know you secretly pet them when no one’s looking. I know that-”

“That’s enough from you. Now, will you sit or should I strap you down instead?”

That line of conversation persisted for a while until you mostly gave up, only throwing the idea in from time to time with a hmph. But now, he was uncharacteristically wondering if there could be a solution to this problem. 

Lately, you had been confined to your bed and room, too physically weak to move around much. He and the segments had done their best, as they always do, to take care of you, but one did not need to be a genius to know that you were feeling down. Not only because of the aches your body gave you, but also because you were lonely for most of the day, seeing as his other selves were usually too busy to spend an adequate amount of time with you. Once again, despite his lack of care for the emotions and feelings of others, he could see straight through your feigned expressions of nonchalance.

Dottore hated it when you pretended around him.

He could raise the topic but it would probably make matters worse. Instead, it was much more logical to work toward a solution for the issue - the solution being a companion to keep a smile on your face, and your mind at ease. Now, an actual pet probably would be a hassle to maintain in the lab, knowing the kind of activities that were… well, unsafe to say the least, so he put that possible solution to the side for now.

Initially, he sought to create something mechanical, having seen the mechanical animals from Fontaine. Of course, his creation would be far superior, and it would be quite helpful with your condition and all. But upon further thinking, knowing your tastes… you’d probably prefer something softer, considering how much you liked to cuddle him and your plushies. 

It was a conundrum the scholar found himself in, making his darling lover happy was not something that could be so easily scientifically concocted like the rest of the conclusions he reached. It required much more than simply following the lines of reason. Perhaps that’s why Dottore often struggled with it. 

Yet he did not have the luxury of time to continue pondering, for he did not want to leave you by yourself for much longer. And so he continued to sit at his desk, his hands automatically filling out paperwork while his mind was focused elsewhere, still thinking about what he could possibly gift you. Something warm and cuddly with the ability to communicate with you to some extent…

That was when he remembered something he created long, long ago.

The memories of that creation came back to him rather quickly once he remembered. Dottore remembered every experiment he’d done, but some were just not very special or successful and lingered very little in his mind. This was one of those unnoteworthy results. It was no secret that he was known to… play around with the concept of life, ignoring the rules that guarded it so strictly… and it was this idea that led to the birth of a creature, one that certainly did not belong to this world.

It was a monstrous, furry black thing that hid its true self with some kind of suit, its lone eye bright and red. It hadn’t been the first time his experiments led him to the unknown, but this… was just something he didn’t care about at all. After a few tests on the creature, he lost interest rather quickly. It was the farthest thing away from the life Dottore wanted to toy with. In fact, he had planned to dispose of the thing, but the creature seemed to understand his words more than he anticipated. It quickly scurried away, creating chaos and knocking down almost everything it could, skillfully making its escape.

Dottore had contemplated searching for his odd creation but decided that it wasn’t worth the time or energy. Judging from the distaste it held for him, it probably wouldn’t come around anyway. So, it could exist in the far depths of the lab for all he cared. It wasn’t like this was the first time he threw things into the back and forgot about them. Now, he was rather pleased that he didn’t get rid of his experiment. He had known you for long enough that he was sure you’d find such a thing cute, for some reason. It checked the fluffy and easily holdable boxes too. His only question was whether it could be alive after all these years… well, it was certainly worth a shot, seeing as his solutions were limited.

The answer to Dottore’s question was a yes. It had unfortunately taken much longer than he’d liked to search the dusty rooms (although admittedly, he had gotten a bit distracted with reviewing the old things he dumped) but at long last, he had found the round creature peacefully dozing without a care in… some kind of bed it had crafted with a bunch of papers and black fur. It looked perfectly content… in all honesty, Dottore was a bit interested in what it had been up to all this time. Maybe it held more scientific value than he thought… 

Regardless, in one swift motion, Dottore grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck and it immediately awoke, attempting to scramble away. Once its single eye laid on the man who so rudely interrupted its sleep, it blinked, before multiplying its strength to escape, even trying to scratch him, but to no avail. The Harbinger’s grip was far too strong, of course. Meanwhile, Dottore had already lost a bit of patience from the creature’s incessant movements.

“Stop that,” he demanded sharply, and the critter instantly went still as its eye continued to stare at him completely widened. Dottore smiled, which felt rather eerie and frightening to the oversized creature.

“What, did you think I came all the way here to finish the job? Oh no, if I wanted to, I would have done so already a long time ago. Instead, I have another use for you. Something that will benefit both of us. I’m sure you’ll agree,” he hummed as he turned to leave the room. But as he took a single step, he found himself stepping on something soft. Curiously lifting his foot, he looked down to see a small, black, round ball of fluff staring at him with a red eye identical to the creature he held in his hand. And then another came into view.

… And another. Soon at least over a dozen had popped out of the shadows, all watching at him with anticipating eyes. He had forgotten these balls of black fur were also a byproduct of creating the creature. Now quite a few had surrounded his feet and were hopping up and down, attempting to climb his pants, which he quickly shook off with a scowl. Well, it looked like these things were going to follow him regardless of what he said…

“If you all are going to follow me, be prepared to make yourself useful,” he sighed in exasperation before finally leaving, stepping on a few more in the process. (The usefulness in question, was making sure you’d be left with a smile.) Based on the odd squeaking noises the smaller creatures made, they seemed to be on board with the idea. 

—

When your husband suddenly presented you with a gift contained in a rather large box, you were a bit surprised. Not because you were receiving a gift, but because of the size of it. Normally, he would give you small trinkets and such, things he’d thought you’d like (that had no real purpose to him, retrieved solely for you. Yes, he was very cute unintentionally. You had a little shelf for his stuff.) But you had no clue what he could have possibly gotten for you that warranted the need for such a big container…

You had long discarded your book in favor of new entertainment (you were reading the same sentences over and over anyway), your hands gliding over the rough material. Dottore was looking at you expectantly, having barely said anything besides shoving the thing on your bed, with a simple “for you.” You couldn’t help but chuckle, your chest getting a bit lighter from the previously stuffy atmosphere dissipating.

“Are you going to explain yourself or leave me guessing as to what I’ve done to receive such a thing?”

“You have been lonely and tired, and I seek to alleviate your pain. Yet there are certain things I cannot always do, which is why I found a solution,” he stated simply, pushing the box closer to you as if it was no big deal. Your eyes widened as your jaw hung, speechless, before you sent a small, teasing smile to your husband.

“I… well, who knew you could be such a considerate man? Keep that up and you’ll make me blush.” You couldn’t help but heat up a bit from his concern, although he didn’t say it outright. And you didn’t really have it in you to deny his words too, he was right after all, you have been lonely and tired from being cooped up in your room all day.

“Still, I want a hint! Ah, it’s too heavy for me to even lift up…” You couldn’t guess what could be in here. “Could it be the latest new novels from Inazuma?”

“No, but those are on the way. It’s something more-” At that moment, the box slightly shifted and you blinked in surprise.

“Oh, oh! Are these new models of Beta’s miniature Ruin Machines? Did he finally make the Ruin Sentinels series?” In truth, initially, the segment wasn’t interested in creating such pointless machines, but after you oh so innocently challenged him to make them movable and fit in the palm of your hand, he took the bait and presented them to you smugly. Needless to say, you very much liked your little collection of action figures, and you were hoping he had finally made ones that could fly.

“No, it’s-” Once again, he was interrupted by even more dramatic shuffling, thumping echoing loudly from inside the box which made you scoot back a bit.

“Dottore, you sure whatever’s in here isn’t going to attack me…?” Your voice was more lighthearted than worried, but now you were squinting at him a bit suspiciously. Dottore’s expression remained unaffected, but inside he was the slightest bit annoyed. He had told those damn things not to move around. Thankfully, a sharp slap to the cover of the box caused the movements to cease, and he only smiled at you once again.

“As I was saying, it’s something you have been asking about for a long time.” He watched as your face turned thoughtful, fingers drumming when suddenly it became very obvious as to what it was. 

“Is it… is it what I think it is?” He found your expression rather amusing as he witnessed your eyes becoming sparkly with joy.

“Go ahead,” Dottore motioned and you wasted no time pulling the cover off the box, your eyes meeting a furry, blue creature whose lone eye gazed up at you curiously. You blinked at it, and it blinked back at you, but you had no time to say anything before some other unknown creatures began pouring out the box and spilling onto your bed, some crawling on your lap. This was certainly not the average pet you had expected… but you were not complaining. These things were the cutest - not to mention the little strand of hair on the top.

“Dottore,” you giggled at the fluff tickling your skin, “what exactly are these- oh!” Your words were interrupted when the larger creature suddenly jumped out of the box and launched itself into you, pawing your chest. You reciprocated the attention in delight, giving it numerous head pats and taking a closer look at it. Most of its soft fur seemed to be blue, although its head was black, and its beak was harder than the rest of its body. Regardless, it was completely adorable, and it seemed to like you very much.

“It is something I created in my lab during one of my experiments. I figured it would be something you’d enjoy.” You lit up, and the scholar couldn’t help but appreciate how you seemed to glow.

“You made these little guys for me? Oh, I always knew you could be such a romantic! I have my husband, my son, and now a cute pet. Isn’t it nice to see our family grow, Zandik?” He remained silent at your hastily made conclusion, deciding that the little white lie wouldn’t hurt, especially not when you looked this happy. After all, he imagined your response to him keeping this creature in the backrooms of his laboratory for ages wouldn’t be very well received, considering how attached you were to it already. Thankfully, you didn’t notice the glare the creature sent him either.

“Do they have names yet?” Dottore thought back to the string of numbers and letters attached to this experiment and opted not to disclose that, shaking his head. You hummed, trying to think of what name to bestow upon your new pets until you quickly came up with something good.

“Foxttore,” you stated firmly.

“Foxttore?” He repeated a few seconds after you, rather unimpressed.

“Yes! Because he looks like a fox, and he also kind of looks like you!” You playfully squished the creature’s cheeks.

“I bear no resemblance to that creature,” he frowned, immediately refuting your statement.

“Don’t look like that,” you teased. “It’s a compliment. You’re both cuties that are the same shade of blue,” you leaned in to kiss him gently, a simple way to silence him despite his vexation. “Now as for these little ones…” you thought once more as the black puff balls clung to your arm, Dottorelings… no, that’s too long… how about pufflings? Yes, that will do nicely!” Seemingly understanding your words, the pufflings began jumping up and down in glee. You then moved closer to the man and enveloped him in a hug.

“Thank you for this, Zandik. I am very happy,” you whispered quietly as you snuggled into his neck. It was the truth - you really were happy to have some company constantly around. Your husband returned the hug and you loved how his strong arms felt around you.

“Of course. But if they happen to cause you any… trouble,” he sent a look to the thing now called “Foxttore”, “be sure to tell me.”

“Aww, don’t say that. Foxttore is a good boy! Right?” You smiled brightly at your new pet, who was kneading the blanket, watching the two of you. The contrast between its creator’s less-than-pleasant face and your wide grin was stark and rather easy to choose from. It then hopped up and practically wedged itself in between the two of you, looking up to you with a pleading eye, desperate for attention. You squealed with delight and pressed the creature to your cheek, nuzzling against it.

When Dottore noticed the cheeky look his creation sent him, he wondered if this was actually a good idea.

—

Foxttore and the pufflings were the best and cutest companions you could ever ask for.

The pufflings were always scattered about your room, resting in different locations. You honestly had no clue how many there were, nor could you tell them apart, but you swore they squeezed through the bottom of your door somehow because sometimes they’d return with random items. They seemed pretty starved for attention… they even liked it when you squished them like a stress ball.

Foxttore was equally as cuddly, but also rather intelligent. He would fetch you items so you didn’t need to get up, and he could even turn a doorknob… you were fascinated. One of your favorite things to do was give him a note for him to deliver to a segment, and he would actually deliver it. (Said note usually contained you begging a segment to visit you, otherwise you’d die without their attention.)

After a lot of cuddling and rubbing, you found out that Foxttore was just a severely oversized puffling with four legs instead. That blue fur of his wasn’t even his, just a suit he wore. It was quite funny to see him without it on. It seemed rather shy without its fox fur, but with enough kisses, hugs, and reassurance, it had no problem lounging around without it.

You read them stories, showed them everything your room had to offer, placed some of Beta’s cute pink bows on them, bathed with them - you were starting to look forward to the day much more now that you could wake up to them.

—

While Dottore knew that you would get attached to the little monstrosities he gifted you, perhaps he didn’t anticipate it to reach this degree. Even after you had gotten well enough to stroll around the lab again, the blasted things were attached to your hip the whole time.

Visiting the segments? They would come up to you, caressing and teasing you with their deliciously infuriating small touches and kisses, and then all of a sudden a small crash would sound throughout the room, the culprit being Foxttore.

Visiting him? He’d have you on his lap, about to pin you to his desk, when he noticed the pufflings watching him from all corners of the room. It was maddening trying to chase them away, but then you’d get pouty about how the creatures didn’t like to be alone. (The only segment that the creature seemed to like was Zandy, although it had taken a while - a bit of scolding from you, and many offerings of food from the child to Foxttore had done the trick.)

As much as Dottore was glad your mood had improved greatly, admittedly, it would please him if he could just chuck his creations out into the Snezhnayan snow, just to finally get some alone time with you. But you loved them too much, so he resolved to resort to other means… eventually.

Over time, your pets gradually began to not hog your attention the whole time, but you were very insistent on helping Dottore and them become friends. It wasn’t very easy, however, they seemed to have some tension between them. You weren’t really sure why, but you still loved having them together.

—

“Dottore! Oh Dottore, you have to watch this,” you puffed out your chest proudly as Foxttore trotted behind you. Your husband looked at you questioningly before you spread your arms out, directing them toward the creature.

“I taught Foxttore tricks! Watch this! Foxttore, sit!” Your pet obediently sat down, his tail wagging (although you had no clue how that worked since it was just a suit…)

“Foxttore, spin around!”

“Foxttore, roll over!”

“Now high-five me!” Dottore watched in amusement as the blue creature followed your commands with ease. Perhaps it really was smarter than he thought. Regardless, all he cared about was that you were occupied with something, rather than being by yourself.

“Okay, now fetch Dottore’s secret stash of sweets!” At that, Foxttore began making its way over to one of the numerous bookshelves in Dottore’s office before the Harbinger quickly realized what you said, and stopped the creature in its tracks.

“I knew there were too many pieces missing,” he stared at you humorlessly, while you sweated nervously.

“W-What? You said I was allowed to take some!”

“I said you, not this… thing,” the man then picked up Foxttore by its strands of blue hair, which the creature fought at, and dropped it in your arms like it was some pest. “I’m moving it.” 

“Please don’t! I won’t do it again!”

—

The continued pampering of Foxttore had, unfortunately for your lovers, become a norm to see around the lab. He was a spoiled lil shit, in other words, who could do no wrong in your eyes… which is why every new thing you did had little to no effect on them anymore besides an eye twitch of annoyance and a promise to bully the creature later. The current situation was one such time. Dottore had come into your room only to see many abnormally small clothes scattered on your bed, with you in the center of it all.

“Oh Dottie, you’re just in time! Look at what I got!” You then held up Foxttore in all his glory, his new hoodie substantially thinner with different patterns, a great big smile on your face.

… It was only you who had the privilege of using his time like this.

“Now before you ask how I got these, I had them custom-made! See, I wanted to sew the clothes myself, but my hands have been too shaky lately and then you’d get all grumpy if I hurt myself with the needle, so I just asked Columbina to find someone for me and she did! She’s a great friend!” You continued to ramble on. 

“See, the poor thing gets too hot sometimes, especially when he starts running on our walks,” you said sadly, while he wondered how exactly you walked this monstrosity, “that’s why I got him different clothes! And they’re stylish too! Look, he’s even got pajamas! Don’t you think it’s cute?” You looked at him, your eyes sparkling and glittering with light that dazzled him.

In all honesty, Dottore didn’t really care about the little abomination of a creature. In fact, he probably leaned more into disdain for it. But what he did care about was you, and what made you happy, what put a smile on your face since he hated for it to be missing.

“I believe your definition of cute is rather unusual.”

“Huh? How could you not think Foxttore is the cutest thing ever? Oh… I see your game. You think I’m the cutest thing ever, don’t you?” You boldly teased him which didn’t phase him, only making a confident smirk grow on his face.

“I suppose that would be accurate, yes. Nothing else comes to mind that could be compared to your beauty,” he said smoothly, plucking the creature from your hands and dropping it elsewhere, which it clearly disliked, but he was more interested in your reaction. Your mouth slightly ajar, heat creeping up your face with a flustered expression, breathing speeding up a bit.

“A-As long as you’re aware,” you mumbled shyly, turning your face away, although your slight smile was apparent.

Needless to say, Zandik was always aware of his beloved.

—

You always loved it when you were able to leave the lab. Sometimes they were frequent outings, sometimes they were very rare. It all depended on how well you had been feeling lately. Today, you had finally been able to go out for a short walk with Dottore after so long. The cold air and snow had you shivering, but feeling the wind hit your cheeks was worth it. (And being able to cling to your husband was a definite plus in your books.) But you were still happy to come back home.

… Especially when you were greeted by your little friend.

As soon as you walked through the door, you noticed that Foxttore was impatiently waiting by the entrance. The moment he saw you, he sped toward you at light speed and pawed at your legs for pets, hopping up and down. You couldn’t help but laugh as you bent down to give him some attention which he happily reciprocated, but then he pulled away and started wildly running around the two of you.

“Aww, Foxttore is having zoomies!”

“… Pardon?”

“He’s having zoomies!” You smiled at your husband before crouching down, and your pet immediately ran into your arms and settled himself there as you picked him up. “Aww, you must have missed us so much, didn’t you?” You cooed as you rubbed his tummy, while Dottore merely stared at you blankly. The man then noticed the creature’s eye had narrowed into a half circle directed toward him as if to mock him. 

If there was a point system between the two of them as to who was able to steal your attention more, Dottore would sorely be losing.

—

It was one of the few nights where you were able to spend a night like most couples do at the end of the day - resting in the same bed with your lover. You weren’t even sure how you managed to do it this time. You thought it was probably due to your persistence but also that he was genuinely tired. (Well, he had been genuinely tired for ages now, but you were able to get him on a weak day, perhaps.)

You had always loved it when Dottore held you, even if it was slack or just one arm, you always felt safe. Protected. Warm. Happy. The feelings only amplified when both his arms caged you into his chest, which was the perfect place for you to snuggle. (Still, he’d never admit to being the little spoon from when he was a student.)

“Hey, Zandik?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done lately, by the way.”

“Of course,” his answer was as simple as could be. He stroked your hair languidly, always one to brush off your thank yous.

“I mean it,” you wiggled out of his grip to look him in the eye, lip jutting out slightly.

“I already know you do. You do not need to keep saying it every time.” You pouted at his response. How else were you supposed to show your appreciation? You then grabbed his arm, which was surprisingly pliable, and placed his hand over your heart.

“Then let me know if you need anything from me. Anything at all. I have to pay you back eventually, you know.” Dottore looked as if he was enjoying himself.

“What do you propose? I’ll listen to your suggestions.”

“Well… I have kisses and cuddles as my expertise. I can cook and bake for you sometimes too… oh, but I can also try doing some of your paperwork! …What? You’re not impressed? I guess I can try to do some more… unsavory tasks as well. The Fatui agents listen to what I have to say quite easily,” you continued to chatter as Dottore’s fingers made their way from your cheek to your neck and then your collarbone, making you stammer at the sensation. “Hey, you’re not even taking me seriously, are you?” Your husband only chuckled at your furrowed eyebrows and grumbling.

If anything, he would want you to repay him by letting him see the faces you’ll make once you’re finally free of your illness.

“Anyway…” you squeezed his hand with yours that still rested on your chest, “You probably know this already, with that ever-calculating mind of yours, but you hold my heart in your hands. I’ll always be here with you.” It was a funny thing to think about, giving your heart to someone like him, in both a physical and intangible sense. Trusting him with your frail body, trusting him with your love, knowing he could squeeze it to a pulp if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t.

He would treat your heart with the utmost care and precaution, not daring to risk even the slightest harm to it.

Dottore stared at you for a few moments while you held his gaze, resolute on making your point known. Wordlessly, he began to move closer to your soft lips, intent on making his response to your statement physical. He was so close, his nose brushing against yours, and your warm breath on his. He was about to finally satiate his desire when-

Something was scratching at the door. Loudly, too. The sudden noise made you jump back and turn your gaze to the door. The Harbinger had a bad feeling about this.

“Did you hear that?”

“No.”

“You’re just lying now!” With a huff, you pushed the blankets off, much to his displeasure, and made your way to the door, opening it. There was Foxttore, making strange noises that he tried his best to mask as cries.

The bliss Dottore felt a few moments ago had turned to immense annoyance immediately.

“Oh, you poor baby! Did you have a nightmare or something?” You exclaimed before quickly scooping Foxttore into your arms and bringing him onto the bed. “It’s okay, you’re with us now…” You softly murmured, stroking it gently as you let it settle on your chest. Where Dottore’s hands should be right now, cupping your soft skin instead of that damned creature.

Dottore swore he was going to throw that thing out once you were asleep.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Father's Day

Was going to post this for the steddie microfic June prompt, but decided it's probably not Steddie-centric. Still sticking to the reqs though, just for fun!

prompt: "stuff" || wc: 483 || rated: G || cw: none

~~~

Everyone knows Steve’s house is free reign for hangouts, yet the Party’s collectively designated Sundays as alone time for the new couple. So it’s a bit of a surprise that someone’s knocking. 

The fact someone’s knocking at all is weird.

“Hey sweetheart,” Eddie shouts from the living room, “can you grab that? I think someone’s here.”

Steve opens the door to find Dustin and Max looking slightly shy, if he had to put his finger on it. Odd, especially for them. They’re holding gift bags filled with colorful tissue paper, Max’s blue and Dustin’s red.

Before Steve can invite them in, they surge past him towards the living room. So not too far off from normal, he thinks.

He trails after them and finds Eddie right where he left him– sitting on the floor, surrounded by DnD books and a notebook perched in his lap.

“Babe, what are the sheepies doing here? It’s Sunday,” Eddie asks. He’s smiling up at them, despite the interruption.

Of course they’re happy to see the kids– always are, always will be– but only these two could get away with showing up on Eddie and Steve day.

“We brought you something,” Max says, thrusting the gift into Steve’s arms. Dustin drops his onto Eddie’s lap, scattering his loose notes.

Curious, Steve looks to catch Eddie’s expression to find him already tearing into the gift. Steve sets his on the coffee table and digs out the colorful paper.

Inside he finds a plain, white coffee mug, except it’s been hand-painted with colorful paint pens. On it he finds a basketball, baseball, and a crudely drawn version of his beloved beemer. But on the front, the word “Dingus” is written in Max’s bubble font underneath a bloody version of his nail bat. 

His eyes sting with warmth, and he looks up at Max, whose cheeks are flushed red. Steve finds Eddie holding a similar mug covered in what he assumes are DnD monsters, along with some dice, and his precious Warlock on the front with “Metalhead” underneath.

“What is this,” Steve asks, choking on the lump lodged in his throat.

“It’s all stuff you like,” Max replies, pointing at the mug, choosing the easy answer instead of the real one.

”No– why?” Steve feels like he can’t breathe, his eyes almost full, and his heart racing.

“It’s Father’s Day,” Dustin says, sniffling and wringing his hat in his hands “and me and Max, you know, we don’t–”

“You guys taught us how to play basketball, so we could practice with Lucas,” Max interrupts. “And how to play guitar. And all of the Upside-Down stuff. You’re always here.”

Steve wraps Max up in his arms, dragging her to the ground next to Dustin similarly draped over Eddie. It’s not the six little nuggets Steve asked for.

But these kids– their kids– are so much more than he ever could’ve hoped for.

~~~

To everyone out there who doesn't have a father, your father is absolute shit, or you mom was both parents -- I hope you have as good a Sunday as possible.

[trashmouth-richie]

this comes from @serasvictoria with this ask the prompt words were: pillow, caught, crush

18+ no minors, angst leading to smut, vulgar, eddie talks about his dick and steve’s 😌

2.1k // eddie x fem reader

your ex hears you’ve moved on; is he ready to let you go?

send me a prompt!

“Don’t be a dumbass.” 

Ringed hands were folded together, glistening from the makeshift dramatic lighting in Gareth’s basement. 

In the summer, Hellfire moved locations from one member's place to another, rotating every Friday to a different place. A new aroma to tickle one’s nostrils upon entering whichever home was the designated spot for the evening, to host Hawkins very own hell bound teens. 

Some homes were kept nicer than others, while Eddie’s trailer smelled like stale cigarettes and bong water, the Sinclair’s living room was pristine with updated furniture, smelling of warm vanilla and the smell of dinner still lingering in the air. 

Gareth takes another gulp of Mountain Dew, wiping the lime colored beverage from his lips. Belching on the spot. 

“Why would I lie about that?” 

Eddie shifts in the folding chair leaning forward— the chain from his waist clinking on the metal, “whatever man, don’t fuck with me.” 

Gareth grins, hands up in surrender, “listen dude, I’m just telling you what we saw,  no need to shoot the messenger.”

What Gareth and Jeff had seen weighed heavy on their minds. They had even contemplated on keeping it secret. The two couldn’t decide if Eddie should know or if it would hurt him— in the end Gareth opened his big mouth and blurted it out, in the most repugnant way imaginable. 

The painted tin container used to hold dice was crushed under the weight of Eddie’s fist as he hammered it onto the table. 

Jeff shook his head, sucking in a breath between his braced teeth, looking away from the soon to be manic Munson. 

Eddie’s temper ran hot when it came to one thing—and one thing only, you. 

Raking his fingers through his scalp, he kicks the back of his chair upon standing, ragged breaths in and out, eyes to the ceiling. You still had a hold on him, it had been months—and the only one who seemed to not be able to move on was him. 

He chuckled, pinching the inner corner of his eyes and shaking his head, “one of you take over as DM, I gotta go.” 

Bounding up the stairs before he could hear any bitching from his two longest standing friends, the carpeted steps squished under his quickened boot steps. Stealing a cookie from an iridescent colored decorative plate on the kitchen counter, Eddie stomped out the front door and to the paved driveway, starting his van with a flick of his wrist, pedal to the floor as he reversed onto the street, running over flower beds in his wake.

—

The daffodil warmth of the sun was high in the sky, a small stitch of wind blew the blades of grass gently, feathering the soft pages of your book every so often. 

It was a perfect summer day as you laid out on your driveway, ass parked in a tiny kiddie pool from your youth, blue in color, the flimsy plastic circle was filled with cool water straight from the hose. 

A few shots of spiced whiskey danced on your tongue and tangoed with the carbonated bubbles of the mixed in Coke, fizzing with each slurp from your straw, you don’t have a care in the world. 

Admiring your freshly painted nails in the pastel bubble gum shade he had picked out— it was a stark contrast to the ruby reds you had been accustomed to— but those days were long gone, and things were finally starting to look up for you. 

It had been four months since Eddie broke things off, claiming he needed ‘space to find himself’ and although you spent a majority of that time wallowing in ice cream containers and mopping up tears when you saw a brown set of curls, or heard the jingle of a chain wallet— you moved on. 

He wasn’t from Hawkins. Didn’t know of Eddie at all, and you preferred to keep it that way. You were never ashamed of the boy you loved for so many years, the only embarrassment you felt was the night he ended things like someone would end a call after placing an order for pizza. 

Like it meant nothing to him, like you meant nothing to him. But that was then, and you were happier now.

So when you looked up to see Gareth’s wide eyes staring in shock was not at all how you imagined your date would go. You had been caught red handed by his best friends, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he found out. 

Toes twirling in the water you bobbed your head along to the music playing on the portable radio, sunglasses perched on your nose— not a single care in the world. 

Until the music turned to something more familiar.. the screech of guitars and aggressive tempos, you could practically feel the warmth leave your skin as the dark cloud of Eddie’s van cast its shadow on your skin, parked in your driveway like he belonged here. 

By the way he tore around the corner and through the stop sign— you knew he was pissed. The clunk of his rings scraped against the paint as he reached through the window to open the door—still broken. 

“I don’t smoke anymore Munson, but if you’re offering freeb—”

“Who is he?” he interjected, in no mood for your joking tone. 

Sucking your drink until the ice clinks together at the bottom—whiskey making you ballsier than you ever had been—you finally answer, “Who is who?” 

He crosses his arms, trying to stay calm, although all he wanted to do was scream, “the guy, cmon princess, don't play dumb with me.” 

Staring at him you can’t believe the audacity of the boy standing in front of you, coming here, demanding to know what’s going on in your life when he’s the one who practically skipped on his way out of it. 

instead of stomping around and causing you a scene, you simply ignore him, “you’re in the way.” 

“Huh?” 

Pointing with a lazy finger to the sky you watch as his eyes follow, “don’t tell me you came here to bitch me out, you’re wasting your time.”

He leans in over your body so close that you can see the chocolate color of his eyes, eyes that you'd lose count of the times you’d stare into them. 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me who he is.” 

“Okay.” You say nonchalantly, unbothered. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah go ahead, stay. ‘s long as you want,” you push yourself up from the pool, standing in a string bikini that matched your nails, “I’ll be the bigger person here, and I’ll leave.” 

Water dripped down your thighs as you walked to the front porch and pushed the door open, ready to slam it shut and twist the lock upon entry—but a dark boot prevents your dismissal.

Rolling your eyes you try to kick his knee to get him to move but he wouldn’t budge, and you huff in annoyance. 

“Pretty sure this is harassment.” 

You ignore the way he walks in your house like he knew his way around, even though he did, your house was a second home to him for years.

Shutting the door with dramatic flair, Eddie leans into your space, inches from your nose, “just answer my question sweetheart— and I’ll be on my happy little way.” 

“You’re deranged if you think I’m telling you anything.”

He cocks his head and laughs like a jerk, mocking you.

“Thata more than likely, but I know better than anyone,” his eyes undress you, fingernails skating across your thighs, “how much you like it.”

You turn and shout over your shoulder, “go home Eddie— I’m not in the mood for this!” 

He barrels around you, demanding your attention. 

“Aww you’re not in the mood?” his voice dipped to a gravelly bite of anger as he put his hand over his heart, “my sincerest apologies to your feelings baby…but I somehow don’t give a fuck about your little feelings when I find out from Gareth that you were sucking some guy’s dick in the Starcourt parking lot.” 

Your face heats in embarrassment and Eddie’s eyes are glassy, coated with pain. You never wanted to hurt him, never wanted him to look at you the way he is right now. 

“Ed—” 

He smirks.

“I think it’s cute…honestly, still doing the same shit you did with me…” he moves to brush your cheek with his thumb, “I’m flattered.”

“Get out,” you bite back, making to shove him to the door but you’re no match for him. 

“D’dya swallow for him like you did for me?” 

“Get..” 

“He bigger than me?” 

“…out!” your shoves are fruitless against his broad shoulders.

“Last I checked Harrington was the only one who had me beat… unless you’re fucking him too.”

The slap startled him, but he knew he deserved it. The torment in your eyes was fueled by his words and he fucking hated himself for making you feel that way. 

He was hurting too, body shaking with rage and swallowing tears the whole drive here. But, when your tears fell on the apples of your cheeks— all his pain turned to gloom. 

“I’m sorry— I— That was a dick thing to say.” 

“Do you think getting over you was easy for me?”

“I don’t know.” 

“It wasn’t.. and truthfully I don’t think I am yet, but what fucking choice did I have?!”

“Babe—.” 

“I loved you, Eddie… I still fucking love you. Why isn’t that—”

His large hands clutch your cheeks, warm lips press into yours with a magnetic force you had forgotten about. Eddie’s tongue tasted like the tobacco spice of a camel, and a subtle hint of mint, and you devoured it like you were starved. 

He whispers and groans how he was so stupid, a real dumb mother fucker, and that he never should have ended it. 

Accepting his apology—for now—you pull him towards the couch, heels rocking on the carpet until they hit firm on the plush sectional, still lip locked with the man you swore, that you hated to your friends but your pillow heard a different plea ever since he broke your heart.

His arms wrap around your waist, fingers daintily pulling the string from your bikini bottoms until the soft fabric hits the floor.  His Hellfire shirt joins them before you both collapse into one another on the cushions, Eddie’s hair draped into your face hiding you both away from consequences and the reality of bad decisions. 

He breaks away from your lips to lick up the slope of your neck, and your head angles back in ecstasy. His body temperature was like fire against your skin, curling your legs around his back you couldn’t get enough of him. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Eddie grooaned, grinding into your naked cunt, his tongue kitten licking around your neck, working his signature hickey into your skin, “my angel.”

You moan feather light in his ear, fingers twisted into his curls. His hand works down your front, sliding between your slick folds with skills you swore only he possessed. 

He played your body like a guitar, knew how to tune you up, the proper way to hold you. A true expert of his craft— your pretty little noises would harmonize from the simple touch of his fingers, your sweet cunt clinching onto him like vice. 

“Missed that sound,” he chuckled, his bangs pushed up from the angle on your neck as you came undone, “so pretty like this… drunk on how I’m making you feel.” 

Your eyes were pinched shut, chest heaving from the breath shattering orgasm you haven’t had since you got dumped by him. Nobody came close to the way Eddie could do it.

Kissing him square on the mouth, you twist your tongue with his, massaging them together as if a flame could spark from the pink wet muscles.

Intimacy with Eddie felt like home, like a warm blanket straight from the dryer when you were freezing. A cup of soup to soothe an itchy throat. 

He melted into you, collecting each gasp you choked out with a kiss from his lips, doing a poor job of hiding the smirk on his face when your breath was stolen from his pistoning hips. 

New— but entirely the same, your bodies fell back into each other like no time had passed and he made up for what was lost, twice. Each time your cries rang out like music to his ears— his favorite song. 

You slept now, adjusting to his arm wrapped around you, a kiss to your forehead, and a new plea in your pillowcase— for Eddie to stay, forever. 

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine arguing with Sanji in the kitchen and holding up service…

The kitchen at Baratie was heating up and it wasn’t from the flaming stovetops or pre-heated ovens.

There was a wicked, hot tension between yourself and Sanji and it was making the rest of the kitchen staff sweat. No one knew what had caused the new dynamic but they quickly learnt to stay a safe distance from the pair after Patty accidentally fanned the flame. Now they only interacted with the duo when required.

Sanji was chopping vegetables for his soup that was almost ready to simmer while you silently iced some cakes on the station beside him. Both regretting the request to cook next to one another.

The blonde-haired chef finished dicing the last of the carrots and picked up the board to hold over the pot. He gently swept the vegetables into the broth with the knife. Setting the utensils back down, Sanji inhaled the beautiful aroma that was starting to perfume the air. His hand reached out for his spoon but his fingers met empty air.

He sighed and closed his eyes. “I’d like my spoon back.”

Your eyes were fixed on the patterns being made on the soft pieces of sponge but your ears picked up that his tone was directed toward you.

“I don’t have it.” You offered simply without breaking focus.

Sanji turned to you, eyes squinting. “Really? Because I recall that you used it last to mix the cake batter.”

It was your turn to exhale. “I did and I washed it thoroughly before setting it back on the table.”

“Well, it’s not here.”

“Then pull out another one.” You snapped.

Sanji lowered the heat of his soup so it wouldn’t burn before returning to glare at you. “Why should I have to when you’re the one who-”

Splat! The cook’s eyes went wide as the cold vanilla cream dripped from his chin, lips tasting its sweetness.

You now stood upright holding the bag of frosting, brows knitted to match the frown on your face.

“I didn’t take your damn spoon.”

The doors to the kitchen opened with their familiar heaviness and a wooden footstep hit the tiles.

“Why is there no soup or cakes out on the floor?” Zeff asked as he entered.

The kitchen that had gone quiet during the public argument suddenly sprang to life and scrambled to resume duties. Zeff’s eyes floated to the two in charge of the slowed menu line and his eyes narrowed.

“Why on earth are you tasting the desserts, Little Eggplant?” He inquired, approaching the bench.

Sanji’s hands flew to gesture your entire being. “Y/n is literally holding the bag. I’m a victim here!”

Zeff held a hand up to silence the boy and set his gaze on you. “You know that we don’t waste food here. Explain yourself.”

You shrugged. “He accused me of losing his spoon so I did what had to be done. I’m not apologising.”

Zeff blinked, jaw dropping slightly.

“A spoon.” He repeated slowly before his voice, and temper, was unleashed. “You two held up service because of a damn spoon!”

You held up your hands in defence. “I told him to just use another one but he was stubborn about it.”

Sanji didn’t take kindly to being thrown under the bus, rounding on you while completely ignoring the steam blowing out of Zeff’s ears.

“Excuse me but that is my special soup spoon. You’re lucky that I even let you borrow it.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s a spoon, Sanji. It’s not the All Blue.”

“You know what-?”

“I’ve heard enough!” Zeff bellowed, his voice sending vibrations through the glassware. “Mix the soup with a rolling pin for all I care. Just get it out to the customers along with those cakes or you’re both on dish duty for two months. Am I clear?”

Receiving a grumbled reply, the owner of the Baratie marched off.

A few stations away, Patty stealthily pulled a towel to cover the wooden handle of the missing utensil. It was too late to reveal the small prank without being boiled alive or baked into a pie.

With the tension still rising, Patty decided to lock them in a cupboard after the shift.

~ More imagines here ~

A/n: Heading back to the office tomorrow with a 5am wake up but here I lay at 12am dishing out some Baratie mania (with more to come). No regrets.

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

What mask do you wear that is keeping you from the rebirth you have been waiting for?

I have a ton of prompts that I have waiting! My partner picked this one intuitively for the day so shout out to them. The decks used today are the Star Spinner Tarot, the Healing Waters Oracle and the Starseed Oracle. Take what resonates and leave the rest behind but always be open to new experiences.

_________

PILE ONE

Astrology: Leo, Pisces, Cancer

Song: Magic by B.o.B.

Vibes: Pink, blue, yellow, mice, rabbits, corvids, dice, bear, mushroom, 666, watermelon, kiwi, pancakes, hockey, activism, university, fairies, Amaterasu

Cards: The Sun, The Moon, 6 of Wands, The Waterfall, Cracked Open

Hello, pile one! The mask you wear is a mask of logic. You think you need to see it to believe it. You have a tendency to see the worst-case scenario in a lot of situations. You see life as guilty until proven innocent. This point of view is understandable but it is limiting your success. Why assume that you will fail before you have even begun? Especially, because you are so capable and a powerful manifester. You seem to believe that you deserve to fail. This belief is a subconscious belief that you can definitely remove easily if you just knew it was there. Take this mask off and you will see your dreams come true! Your manifestation will come true fast and easy it'll feel like the impossible became mundane. Spread your wings and fly my dear. You don't need to fear jumping from the nest. You have always been ready no matter who told you that you weren't. I believe in you, the universe believes in you! Please believe in yourself too!

PILE TWO

Astrology: Scorpio, Aquarius, Sagittarius

Song: We Are Golden by MIKA

Vibes: Lavender, periwinkle, gold, make-up, skin routine, hair routine, routine in general, butterflies, dragons, 444, sleeping beauty, roses, stars, crown, the sky, chocolate

Cards: King of Cups, 4 of Swords, 4 of Pentacles, Thank You, The Golden Children

Hi, pile two! Welcome to your reading. This miiiight be a little hard to hear so heads up on that. You are being held back by a mask that can't exist in the present. You are constantly thinking of what will be to the point where when you get the manifestation you were wishing for you can't even enjoy it because your mind has already turned to the next achievement to work towards. You are incredibly driven but I see how unsatisfied you feel about all that you do because of this mask. Take time to congratulate yourself! Take time to give yourself a gold star for your efforts. You worked so hard!!! Thank yourself for working so hard. Thank the world for what you have in front of you. What you will have is important to work towards but what you have now is still worthy of recognition. Look back at how much you put into what you have now. Look at all that you have achieved! It's hard for you to recall. The tunnel vision you get from the task at hand is blinding you from everything you have already done. Please see how well you have performed so far. Acknowledge yourself. Acknowledge your strength. Your inner child is screaming at me "ACKNOWLEDGE ME ACKNOWLEDGE ME ACKNOWLEDGE ME!!!!" You need to hear them because wow they are yelling loud. Don't just buy them something nice by the way. Genuinely allow them to feel happy about what they have done. Pat them on the head and tell them you see them.

PILE THREE

Astrology: Libra, Aries, Capricorn, Taurus

Song: The Call by Regina Spektor

Vibes: Pastel pink, yellow, teal, clocks, falcons, Horus, armor, coy fish, 8888, storms, renaissances festival, mermaids, libedo, strawberries, cucumbers, caramel

Cards: 6 of Cups, 8 of Wands, 8 of Pentacles, Let It Rain, Star Brothers

Pile three, welcome. You wear a mask of perfectionism. You have the belief that only you can perform tasks to the right standard. Part of this belief is good but some of it is holding you back. I am glad you have confidence in your abilities and feel capable enough to do things on your own. The problem is you feel this way a lot more than is physically healthy. You believe it so deeply it makes you over-exert yourself constantly. You probably feel super tired all the time. Part of you longs immensely for help with all the tasks you do. It feels lonely to do everything alone with no companionship. Let me tell you a little secret, my friend. Let them fail. Let people underperform the tasks that aren't and shouldn't be your responsibility. If you let things slip through the cracks it might seem like you are failing but really what you are doing by letting people fail is helping others learn lessons. You are doing yourself and the people around you a disservice by taking responsibility for tasks that need to be failed. If the people around you fail, they will be more likely to learn faster. You are robbing them of lessons and exhausting yourself in the process. That literally helps no one. The next time you see someone not doing their job properly. Let them. Let them not do their job. If someone else tries to make it your problem you tell them what I just told you, okay? It will make you a better teacher and the people around you better students. Let people fuck it up. Trust the universe. Trust people to learn even if it takes them a couple times to figure it out. Failure is the best lesson teacher.

PILE 4

Astrology: Capricorn, Gemini, Virgo

Song: Hell's Coming With Me by Poor Man's Poison

Vibes: Purple, lilac, navy blue, ibis bird, Thoth, architecture, stars, akashic records, 3rd eye chakra, crown charka, dreams, diamonds, lilys, daffodils, angels, whiskey, pyramids, curse breaker, dragonfruit, mangoes

Cards: The High Priestess, The Star, Ace of Swords, Stagnant Waters, Star Ancestors

Hi there, pile four. You wear a mask of imposter syndrome. You don't think you've done enough. It doesn't matter how much you have achieved. You never think it is enough. You are blind to how much you do. You have the belief that the world would be better off without you but the thing is. You raise the planet's vibration WAAAAY more than you believe. You have such a good heart and you are so balanced. You are kind, smart, intuitive, wise and witty. I wish you could see yourself clearly because you are truly an angel. The thing is all the things I just named are things you wish to be. You wish it as if you aren't aligned with those things already. The mask you are wearing is distorting your vision of your true self. The only thing holding you back is your perception of yourself. Let go of the past criticism that plagues you, my dear. You took that critique in stride and grew far past your initial goal. You have succeeded already. You already did it! Congratulations on being super awesome and cool! You don't need to wish upon a star anymore, baby! You are already a star yourself. <3 Change your view of yourself and you will be UNSTOPPABLE!!!

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 8

Part 7

The rest of the band had gotten over their shock of the news of Eddie's sudden rut and were having a conversation about sewing or something but Steve was deep in thought.

"I'm telling you, it's both calming and not calming", Jeff said as they walked out of the venue.

Gareth adjusted his jacket. "You get all that from quilting?"

"You remember your dice obsession way back when?"

"Dude, that's all I remember from junior year."

"You guys aren't worried about Eddie?", Steve asked, interjecting.

"Why would we be worried?", Gareth asked.

"He just-", Steve paused when a couple of fans caught them between the sidewalk and the car taking them back to the hotel. It didn't seem prudent for anyone to know why Eddie would be indisposed right now. But he continued when the fans got their autographs and left. "He just went into rut without any warning."

"Yeah, but he's a grown man", Jeff said. "He can handle it."

'Handle it'. How alphas usually handled it was all Steve could think about on the way back to the hotel. Alphas of his previous tax bracket would usually have a designated partner. Whether that was someone they were married to, were promised to, or just someone they had an agreement with, it was odd for an alpha of means to spend a rut alone. So did Eddie already have someone like that?

Was that why he pushed Steve away and took off? So that he could go to them? The initial twinge of heartbreak and rejection was quickly replaced with anger. Who the hell had stolen his alpha away?

"Uhh, is Steve okay?", Grant asked, picking up on the bothered scent he was putting out.

"I need to talk to Eddie", Steve said, arms crossed.

"Chrissy's already with him in his room. She's probably making sure he's all set up", Jeff said.

Chrissy. Corroded Coffin's manager. Completely professional. But also...she was an omega...One that had known Eddie for a long time. When the car parked, Steve got out, forging ahead to the suite he and Eddie were sharing.

"Steve? Steve! We're telling you man, it's gonna be okay", Jeff tried to reassure him.

"And no one's gonna blame you", Gareth added.

That got Steve to stop in his tracks just as he was about to press the button for the elevators. "What do you mean blame me? For what?"

All three of them looked anywhere but him. Steve put his hands on his hips, not allowing them to get out of answering his question. Jeff was the one that broke.

"His rut, Steve. I think it's pretty obvious it only happened because... well, you and he, you know..."

Yes, Steve did know. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. Decades of science had proven that in certain conditions, this situation could happen. He let out a puff of laughter and ran his hands through his hair.

Honestly, if you had asked him, Steve would’ve figured that Eddie would have triggered his heat first. He’d heard the stories of having your hormones knocked out of whack by an alpha and having an off-cycle heat. So having to deal with his rut out of the blue was definitely a surprise.

Looking back on the past twenty four hours, anyone from the outside would have thought that Steve had been purposely trying to start it. But his sweet, sweet alpha and treated the situation like he was inconveniencing Steve. He had pushed Steve away, probably for his own good.

When he allowed himself to calm down and think about it, the idea that Eddie was getting his rocks off to someone else right now was just unbelievable. They had agreed. Exclusive. Which meant Eddie intended to ride this out alone.

“You don’t have to worry about Eddie”, Gareth said. “You can bunk with one of us while we wait for it to pass.”

“I’m not going to leave him”, Steve said quickly.

He pushed the elevator button and when the doors opened, he went inside. Grant and the others followed him. They stood behind Steve, trying to have a silent conversation on how to proceed.

"I can hear you guys bugging out", Steve said without turning. "It'll be fine." It wasn't even a matter of choice. His alpha needed him.

When the doors opened, he led the brigade and took his key card out. Inside, Chrissy was ending a call and Eddie was nowhere to be seen. She frowned a little at Steve.

"You shouldn't be here."

"I'm here to help Eddie", Steve said.

She looked disappointed at the band behind him, as if they were supposed to keep him away before giving Steve her attention again.

"Look, Steve, I know you're nice. But it's a liability thing. You could get hurt and Eddie's a public figure. Or maybe you'll use this to baby trap him, I don't know. But I can't let you use my friend that way."

Steve let out a hiss at the accusation. He had to remind himself and his omega that Eddie wasn't actually his alpha, that they weren't mated. She was completely in her rights as a friend and manager to protect her friend.

"Eddie won't hurt me. Chrissy, you know that stereotype about alphas during rut is nothing but BS. And I'm on birth control, so no pups are coming out of me any time soon."

"Baby, Chrissy", Eddie called out as he came out of the bedroom.

Steve ran up to him but Eddie grabbed his hands, keeping him at arms length. Steve frowned, but understood. They never really discussed what to do if one of them went into their cycles. But Eddie was still of a clear mind. They had time to discuss it now.

"Do you trust him?", Chrissy asked.

"With my signed copy of Lord of the Rings", Eddie smiled.

Steve's brow rose. "By Tolkien?"

"No, by McKellen. Which is better. The thing is, I don't trust myself around you while I'm like this."

Steve pouted a bit and let go of Eddie's hands, turning back to the rest of the group. "Do you mind giving us some privacy? I promise, if he turns me away, I'll come to one of your rooms."

"Text me before you guys get too....you know...", Chrissy said. "We can make accommodations."

"Will do", Steve said as he walked over to the couch while they left him and Eddie alone. Once they were, Steve patted the space next to him. Eddie came over, but only sat on the far opposite side.

“Angel, you shouldn’t be here. I’m not safe.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Eddie, you’re a pre-rut alpha. Not an insatiable lust monster.”

“But we never talked about this…you doing this for me, being my-m-my-”

“Shh”, Steve put a finger to his lips. “You’ve been taking such good care of me. I just wanna return the favor.” Then he let out an exaggerated sigh and turned away, standing up “But if you don’t want me here-”

He heard a loud thump that was probably the from Eddie rushing and falling off the couch to stop him. He felt Eddie hug him from behind, gentle, like he was afraid of breaking him.

"I want to. Christ alive, I want to. But I...what if I'm too much? What if I cross the line?"

Steve turned in his arms and kissed his nose. "Then we need to draw a line in the sand first."

Eddie nodded. "Okay. Okay, I can do that." His hands were already toeing the line, inching under Steve's shirt. "Maybe we have this conversation with some space between us?"

Steve conceded to that. He didn't want to get distracted either. So they sat back down on the couch, apart but not too far apart.

"Sooo, what am I allowed to do?", Eddie asked.

"Anything", Steve breathed out before composing himself. Eddie's scent was getting stronger but he had to not think with his pussy for once. "I mean, just what we've done before. All of that is fine."

"What if I wanna bite you?", Eddie swallowed.

"You know you're allowed to do that", Steve smirked. He was still sporting some of the marks from earlier.

"Even if I wanted to...", Eddie's eyes went to his neck. "Once I'm in rut, I'll really want it. I'll wanna make you mine. In any way I can."

'Don't think with your cunt, don't think with your cunt. Make a rational decision-god our babies would be so beautiful-but we're not ready to be mated-he's such a good alpha, perfect alpha, could raise our pups good, keep them safe and-'

"We can, um", Steve cleared his throat and looked around for something. He got up, just to get some space and also think of something that would keep him from getting a mating bite tonight even though that was all he wanted. He saw something on the bed and went right for it.

"Perfect!", he exclaimed, returning with the black bandana Eddie had been wearing during the concert. It was saturated with his scent. Steve folded it to a rectangular band and then tied it around his neck. "This is off limits", he said. "And your alpha brain won't fight because-"

"Because it already smells like you're mine. Sweet thing, you're a genius", Eddie beamed. He got off the couch and pulled Steve in his arms, kissing him sweetly. He took in a deep breath and released a full body shudder. "It's working already."

"Oh yeah?", Steve couldn't help looking smug.

"Mhm. It's like you've already got my bite." Eddie started to kiss at his jaw. "And it's making me wonder why I haven't got you pupped up yet."

Steve could've swooned but he had to keep his wits about him for as long as he could. "There's one more thing."

"Hm?", Eddie looked up, his eyes were already starting to get the moony look.

"You're not going to be entirely yourself. I know that. So like I said, I'm gonna take care of you. That means you listen to me. I'm in charge, okay?"

Eddie nodded rapidly. "You're in charge. Got it."

"Good alpha", Steve stroked his hair. With any luck, the tour schedule wouldn't be messed up too badly. Alpha ruts typically lasted around 3-5 days. It would've been longer if he had to go solo. There was the idea still being passed around that an alpha's rut would end when they were convinced their partner had conceived, but Steve wasn't sure how he was supposed to trick Eddie's alpha into thinking that.

But the important part was that they'd decided what to do and Steve was taking him to bed.

"You know, the guys think that I triggered your rut", Steve said.

"And don't you look proud", Eddie grinned, lying in bed next to him. He frowned and sniffed at the comforter. "Doesn't smell right. Doesn't smell like us."

Us. Steve felt himself get wet. Well, wetter. He was going to be Eddie's omega. At least while his rut was going on.

"Do you know what I was thinking, while I was watching you on stage earlier?", Steve asked.

Eddie swallowed and shook his head. Steve pushed him onto his back and sat on his lap. Eddie looked perfect under him and between his legs like this.

"I was thinking about how sexy you looked. How everybody couldn't take their eyes off you, but you were only looking at me." Steve started a slow grind and watched as Eddie's eyes darkened. "And how I wanted to ride you all night long."

Part 9

Tag Team

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie  @sllooney  @starman-jpg  @oxidantdreamboat  @xxbottlecapx   @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast  @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds  @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord  @beckkthewreck  @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @marklee-blackmore @greatwerewolfbeliever @chaosgremlinmunson @blackpanzy @millseyes-world @batxsignalsx @lilpomelito @goosesister @libraryofgage @aresthelostboy @royjaimie4eva

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Ten

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Later than usual, sorry! But I've been busy with a whole load of shit ngl, it's just been stress:) Let me know if anyone else wants to be added to the taglist though, I realise my updating is a bit sporadic? Maybe? Just a little? Lmao, anyway here's 10, hope you enjoy!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

Jacket potatoes were a fucking delicacy.

Any Brit back home would tell you that. You could top ‘em with all sorts; Chilli, Tuna, Cheese, Chicken, Stuffing, Coleslaw, Bacon, Gravy, Bolognese— some people even liked them plain. But my favourite, as well as the only real and true way to serve a jacket potato, was with an ungodly amount of butter and baked beans.

Being in the States, it was a rather hard dish to come by. But, seeing as Marshall always appeared to go above and beyond, beans (No, none of that shoddy American shit) could be found in the little basket he’d gone and gifted me the day before. A little wicker bowl full of goodies to soothe that little ache of homesickness. 

I smacked the can down onto the countertop and levelled Rosie with a long stare.

“You’re serious?” She asked me around a wary glance, extending her arm out cautiously to get a better look at the bright blue tin as though she thought the contents might just reach out to try and grab her back.

“Deadly.” I remarked, attempting to keep my smile hidden when I met her question with a raised brow, “You’ll love it.”

Rosie didn’t look too convinced about that fact and yet, she rolled up her sleeves and took a seat at the counter to watch me work, helping out with the few things that she could. 

She had waltzed in through the front door a while earlier, just a second after I’d made it up the stairs, and the grin she’d worn when she had spotted me had had my heart warming and the pair of us wandering into the kitchen, arm in arm and already talking at a mile an hour. 

I was sauteing some mushrooms in a pan after having peeled and diced them up, whilst she kept a keen eye on the warming potatoes. “So Dad’s finally found some inspiration then?” Rosie asked me after a while, peering into the oven.

I smiled when I peered over at her, seeing how the orange glow of it washed over the side of her face to softly illuminate her features. “Seems so, we got a lot done but he was on a roll by the end of it.” I told her in reply, shaking the pan again and blinking at the sizzle that sparked up, “What do you mean anyway? Finally.” I dragged out that last word in a small singsong which made her chuckle as she stood to her full height once more and turned.

“He’s been trying to write for a couple weeks now, I think. Or months.” She shrugged, stepping back to watch the mushrooms fry with a slight wrinkle of her nose, “Not sure, but he keeps complaining about it whenever he’s on the phone.”

With a small hum, my eyes flickered back over to her, then to the pan again, “He didn’t mention it.”

Rosie blew out a faint chuckle and leant back against the counter, knuckles wrapping around its edge, “Why would he? He hates jinxing himself.”

It was cute that she noticed things like that about him, something I’d begun to note in the short time I’d been staying with the two, but I didn’t know... A large part of me wished that Marshall would have said something about it before, or at least alluded to it. It made me feel a bit bad for bowing out so early now. 

Still, my mind was quickly recaptured by the task at hand and then the story that Z deemed to tell me about, apparently a teacher thought that one of her friends was a shoo in for these auditions that they had coming up soon. The familiarity of the scene made me think back to Lottie, to everything that was happening back home, and I wished, silently and not for the first time, that it could be possible for a person to exist in two places at once. 

The spuds took their time baking but soon enough they were ready and piping hot, fluffy on the inside and with a crisp exterior. Rosie gathered up the butter and cheese at my signal, face lighting up at the prospect of being able to drown her own in the latter, whilst I pinched the tops of the spuds with a clean tea towel and plated them up, spattering them with a small amount of herbs.

I was going to keep Marshall’s wrapped up in tinfoil, if only to save it from going all horrible before he had the chance to try such a delicacy, but thankfully he’d worked his way back up the stairs just in time. I wondered how he’d managed it.

“Hey, you’ve got table duty.” Rosie exclaimed as soon as she saw him bustling over the threshold, handing the cutlery she was already holding to him without a second thought, which caused Em to blink down at his hands whilst he struggled not to drop the sudden weight he'd just been shafted with.

“‘Scuse me?” Marshall prompted, brow furrowed as his gaze wandered about the rest of the kitchen. I wondered what he thought of the bubbling pot of red sauce sitting on the hob, as well as the absurd amount of butter both Rosie and I had already lumped onto our steaming plates.

“You can set the table, Dad.” Z explained as she jumped back to help me with the mushrooms, her voice edging the line of a whining lilt, “We cooked! So it’s only fair.”

Marshall stared at her for a second longer before he ultimately snorted, “Right.” He murmured, recapturing his hold on the silver he held and eyes finding mine, before he spun round on his heel and left the room once again with a small smirk. When he returned, his plate was almost ready and just about to be loaded up with– “The hell’s that?”

I withheld my snarky reply in favour of smirking when Rosie answered for me, her eyes widening in the face of her father’s obvious leery expression. “Beans, Dad. El told me it’s one of her favourite meals, she wanted to share it with us.”

It wasn’t hard to hear the undertone there, the kind that told him to keep quiet on how he felt about the bubbling bowl I was currently holding because Z obviously didn’t want me feeling disheartened in any way. It was adorable, as was the stern face she’d paired with it, the same face that her dad found hard to waver against. His shoulders slumped ever so.

“Right.” He repeated for the second time tonight, dragging the first syllable out a tad, “Looks good?” He tried. 

I had to laugh then, “That a question or statement, Mathers?”

His eyes flickered over to meet mine, but I motioned for Rosie to get a start on heaping the cheese we’d grated onto her plate, the girl’s responding grin was giant. 

“I–” Em appeared stumped for a split second before he eventually just pressed his lips together and decided to jump in on helping us. Although he did complain when he spotted the frying pan sat off to the side, “Mushrooms too?” But with Rosie’s short warning of Dad, Marshall only appeared to raise his hands in mock surrender and then moved over to grab the plates so that he could carry them off into the next room.

I shared a conspiratorial smile with the younger girl before we followed after him, the three of us settling into the same seats as we had occupied the day before. Marshall still looked wary, even with his beans being hidden beneath a thick layer of cheese that I figured he had reasoned to himself would mask whatever taste was under it, but Z, to my utter surprise, looked ready to dig in.

“Changed your tune there, lovely.” I mentioned with a sly smirk, my gaze lingering on her long enough to catch the sheepish reaction she bore before she just shrugged and dipped her head around a grin, fork already in hand.

“Smells good.” Was the excuse she used and so I softened my face into a smile too.

“Well you helped so of course it does,” I quipped easily, picking up my fork as well before nudging Em’s forearm, “Come on, you big baby. Just try it. If you hate it, I’ll order you whatever you want. On me.”

That had him rolling his eyes, but he picked up his knife and fork with a determined expression.

I bit back a round of chuckles I could feel bubbling in my throat and used my chin to getsure for the pair of them to get stuck in. Rosie was quick to tear into hers and I was silently thankful for the way the potato easily broke apart under her knife, its texture fluffy and golden.

“Oh wow, this is so good.” She blew out the second that she could, already moving onto her next bite whilst Marshall was still working his way up to trying his own. “When you first showed me those beans? I was so sure I was gonna puke.”

I snorted quietly at that image, perfectly content with the plate of home I’d gone and conjured up for us, whilst Em’s face wrinkled. “Well if you had hated it, you’d have only had your Dad to blame, he’s the one who bought them.”

“I jus’ looked up British shit, they were top five on every list.” Marshall defended before he finally took a bite, slow in the way he raised his fork to his mouth, his eyebrows raising a little as he let the taste settle in, “Shit.”

My eyes narrowed a tad around the smile that I was chewing on to keep hidden but I watched him cut further into the potato, beans and melted cheese puddling around the sides. “That a good shit or bad shit?”

“Three dollars.” Z acknowledged, voice muffled by the food she still had in her mouth.

I laughed at that and shook my head in fond amusement before I turned to Em for an answer. He took another bite, a big one, something I took to be a good sign, and just nodded. My brow quirked in hope. “So good?”

He hummed, one shoulder shrugging, “Ain’t gone die if I finish it.”

Snorting, I could only shake my head at him, hiding my smile behind my fist. “Idiot. You like it.”

Marshall rolled his eyes, though the gesture was obviously fond as he raised his fork to point at me, “Just grateful you didn’t burn down my damn house.”

Rosie’s giggles filled the room and with them we all settled in to enjoy. Marshall asked after his daughter’s day and the girl was all too happy to ramble and rant to him, face lighting up at the prospect of it. She mentioned her English lesson, the book they had started on and how her teacher had explained this one paragraph to her class, then she went into detail about the play that was set to happen just before the Christmas break. I chimed in here and there, putting in my two cents where it was worth, but in truth, I was perfectly content to simply listen and watch on. 

The clean up that followed was mainly made up of me and Z messing around and singing to the music Em had stuck on, never the type to linger in silence. The pair of us did manage to rope the man into joining us once he had loaded up the dishwasher though, something he thoroughly complained about but followed through on all the same. He was just a sucker for his kid's smile, I reckoned, went above and beyond for the girl and it was all too easy to see.

It was a lot later that we all fell into a comfortable silence around the tele, Rosie sat crossed legged on the sofa with her homework whilst I offered help whenever asked. Marshall had joined the two of us a little later, after his phone had rang and he’d stepped out to take the call, he’d padded into the room with only the explanation of ‘Royce’ before he’d fallen into the seat beside me. I’d hummed but was too distracted by Rosie’s newest question to prod him further on it.

By the time she had finished up, handwriting practically perfect, her books had fallen into a heap on the coffee table and she’d slowly but surely scootched her way further up the sofa. I kept my eyes on the tele when I’d outstretched an arm in quiet invitation but hadn’t missed the grin she’d given in turn before she’d settled into my side, head coming to rest on my thigh. I caught Marshall’s watchful stare from out of the corner of my eye but didn’t glance back over, smiling at the scene that played out on the screen whilst my hand smoothed over the girl’s hair. 

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed between us before Marshall’s quiet cough broke the peace we’d since created, but the sky was more of a hazy cast of dark blue now rather than the ruddy auburn that had lined it much earlier. I stifled a small yawn.

Rosie sniffed softly in my lap, twisting a tad to cast her Dad a quizzical glance. Throughout the duration of the film that Z had picked out for us to watch, the man had gotten close enough that he now only had to drop his shoulders to poke at her cheek.

“Bath and bed, kid.”

The scrunch that overwhelmed Rosie’s face at the order had me grinning and so I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before moving my hand to pat her shoulder. “Up and at ‘em, soldier. Heard what the old man said.”

“Do I have to?” Z huffed, just as a hand came up to rub at her eye. Marshall’s mouth ticked ever so slightly into an amused smirk, his fingers replacing mine in an effort to smooth the front of her hair. 

“School tomorrow.” He reminded her all too gently, dropping his hand lower to shuck the underside of her chin which only made the girl smile sleepily. “You know the deal.”

She sighed heavily in retort, but did eventually make the move to push herself up and out of my lap, legs stretching across the couch cushions before her feet found the floor. It was just as she went to stand that she turned to face me though, her expression a little meek but rapidly losing the residual somnolence it had just held. “Will you do my hair again for me tomorrow?”

I was caught by surprise at the question she’d asked. I wouldn’t lie, but I didn’t let the reaction show as I smiled warmly back at her, reaching out to tap a finger on the top side of her hand, “‘Course. Anything you want, lovely.”

Rosie’s little grin had her eyes squinting and forced the corners of her mouth to pinch upwards in a move that only deepened her dimples. She leaned over to give me a hug of thanks, whispering the word into my ear before she pulled away and rounded the sofa, kissing her Dad’s cheek on her way out.

“No messin’ about, Z. An early night, ‘kay?” Em reminded her, leaning against the back of the couch so that he could tilt his head far enough to see her, “I’ll be up soon.” He added, his words met by another charming grin whilst she shook her head in fond exasperation and slipped out of the room, leaving just the pair of us and the tv. 

It was a long while before Marshall disturbed the quiet once more, the film we’d been watching had finished some time ago and so now all that was playing on the screen was a couple repeats of South Park and the odd advertisement. “She’s different with you.” I heard him voice.

With a furrowed brow, I let my head turn to find him. He was perched in the same position he had been, but now with an arm stretched along the back of the sofa and a knee bent to fill the small gap that still separated us. “What d’you mean?”

When he replied, it was low and soft, a murmur if not for the sincerity behind it. “She don’t act like that ‘round nobody.” He told me, fingers jumping in a steady rhythm on the back of the cushion, his eyes peering between mine. “Me, sure. She’s a fuckin’ koala when she wants to be, but with other people… it’s something she second guesses.”

His words confused me. Or rather, threw me. “I don’t get it.”

He dropped his gaze, blowing out a small but mirthful huff through his nose, his thumb dragged along the edge of the sofa. “You known her what, three days? And she don’t think about gettin’ close to you. Sure she’ll be coy with it, sly even, but that’s ‘cause she don’t wanna overstep with you. Like that right there–” Em said, getsuring his chin out towards my lap, I followed the gesture, then blinked back up at him, remembering the way she’d approached me, “She don't do that with people.”

My face must have given away to the fact that I was still trying to process the weight of what he meant, because his smile was soft, warm even.

It made me think of Lottie, who was always so open with her affection, who gave it out without thought or focus, her smile always great, always there. Then of myself. I tended to avoid affection where it mattered, a reason as to why I’d never let many people too close to my heart, why I hadn’t had something fulfilling to divulge when Marshall and I had spoken about past exes, I supposed. It baffled me to see some of the same tendencies I’d shown growing up in Rosie, in a girl too sweet, too loving, too happy to be so aware of how to guard herself.

I looked to him again and let him have his fill, allowed him to see how his words, the sentiment behind them, had pierced through the armour I’d long since moulded around myself. 

One side of his mouth lifted and he used the hand resting on the back of the sofa to circle my wrist, leaning in a little closer, filling that previous gap. “Ro’s had her mom, her sister. They’ve been there. They love her, and she loves them. I know that. But with Kim, it ain’t always parentin’, it’s fun and games. It’s showin’ off, not showin’ up. It’s messin’ around until she finally grows–” 

He paused there, eyes flickering left and then right as his tongue swiped over his lower lip, almost as though he was resentful of the term he wished to use. 

He settled for, “Bored. Or maybe jus’ tired, you know? She’s there until it's her time to step up and do the job she’s ‘sposed to, til it's missed recitals and forgetting pick-up, that’s when she reacts. Pulls away.”

He sighed, gaze caught on his fingers, on the easy way they engulfed my wrist. His thumb brushed over the freckle that dotted the bone, and continued on through a slow exhale, “Ayla, she’s a lot older. She does her own thing, she’s got school, work, friends. Z obviously filters into all that, but there's always been a small divide. I like to think it’s just ‘cause of their ages– it’s how me and Nate worked growin’ up, you know? But there’s this whole idea that fuckin’ messes with my head, like maybe it's all down to me. Ayla’s my niece, but she’ll always be one of my own. I love that girl as much as I love Rosie. More than life itself. But I know I hurt her, havin’ her here, watchin’ me fail and fuck up whilst she was growin’ up. And jus’, maybe I can’t help but wonder if I ever let her know that enough, that I loved her, if it’s that that’s impacted her relationship with Z.”

I was quick in my attempt to soothe his doubts, the hand he didn’t hold jumping over to lay across the top of his own. “I’d call you an idiot, but I reckon you already know that.” I chuckled halfheartedly, though my smile was genuine when his eyes snapped up to meet my own, “You’re an amazing father, Em. I honestly believe that with my whole heart. And it doesn’t take much to see it either. I mean, I was here not even a day and was so quick to see the love you held for your daughter. I saw it in your reactions too when we called, when you spoke of them, however brief it was. I haven’t met Ayla but I don’t think I’d have to for me to see that your worries are just that, worries. I’m sure that girl loves you in the very same sense that I am sure that she knows you love her. That you see her as much more than just your niece.”

My thumb trailed over the back of his hand, skimming knuckles, taking in their slight discoloration, the faint white lines that could have only been age old scars. I dipped my head a tad so that my gaze could align with his shadowed blues, prompting him into lifting his eyes from off the floor.

“I’m also honoured that you think Rosie’s comfortable enough around me to mention the gravity behind it, that you’d trust me with her company, let alone her affection.” I said sweetly, gifting him another smile, it was close lipped but one that appled my cheeks. His stare caught onto it, fingers tightening around my wrist by a fraction in a squeeze that showed only his appreciation. So I squeezed back, fingers fastening over the top of his fist. “Z’s hard not to love, she’s all of your best parts and more. Sometimes…” 

I took a small breath, fretful over saying what I had intended to until Marshall met my flickering gaze once more, silently prompting me on. I swallowed thickly, feeling the force of it travel through my throat, but did follow through, “Sometimes it’s just hard raising kids, I guess not everyone’s made out for the harsher reality of it all. Of having to be a parent and not a friend. I mean, it was forced on me in a way, I’ve been raising my siblings since Danny the day came along, since before I knew what being a mum meant. What one was.” The weight of that admission had me reeling for a split second, at the truth it held. But I pursed my lips before allowing my eyes to find Marshall’s once more, “Kim, I’m sure she tries, I’m sure it’s more than my mum ever did, ever could do, but it’s okay for you to fear that it’s not enough for Z, too.”

Marshall worked his jaw, blinking for a second before he eventually spoke, voice rasping with the emotion he felt. “Kid deserves the world.”

I found myself grinning at that, the teary kind which glossed over your eyes but was strong enough that you couldn’t prevent the fluid motion of it. It was without thought that my arms came up to wind their way around his neck and I relaxed further in the gesture when I eventually felt his face come to rest against my shoulder.

“She does.” I murmured, hand cupping the back of his neck, fingers resting over the fine hair which lined his nape. “She does.” I heard myself repeat again as my eyes slipped closed. 

When we parted, I watched as Em knuckled the corner of his eye, grunting faintly to clear his throat and rid the room of any tension that then clouded us. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, but did look away towards the tele when he started to shift once more, giving him a sense of security that he hadn’t been caught out, that I wouldn’t dig too deeply into his reaction. 

“Thanks.” He murmured after a stunted moment and it was only then that I glanced back over to him. I smiled in turn.

“Nothing to thank me for.”

When we parted ways for the night, I chose to head on up to bed, mind so full of thoughts that I found it hard to latch onto a singular one, whilst Marshall stopped at the bottom of the staircase to gift me a quiet goodnight, eyes caught on the reflection of moonlight that crept its way across my cheek, the sight mirrored on his own face.

I didn’t know it then but I would eventually, he’d never felt so inspired.

So as I’d slipped beneath my duvet, my mind stuck on the words we’d shared, Marshall was back down in the studio, writing away once more. But this time, it was for a completely different reason.

[fourteentheart]

Happy Valentione's Day!

This isn't so much about Valentione's Day than it is about love in general... I think it still captures the spirit of the day, tho! The different ways we can show one another love are vast and plentiful.

Transcript under the readmore.

PAGE 1 [I admit that saying "I love you" does not come naturally to me.]

--

Makoh'to: You want to toast the dried chilies until they develop a bit of a char, like this, then grind them into flakes.

Gaius: My eyes are starting to water...

--

Makoh'to: Make sure to generously season the hamsa breast!

Gaius: (What is considered "generous" ...?)

--

Gaius: Why not use a measuring cup for consistency?

Makoh'to: This bowl works!

Gaius: And if we no longer have that bowl?

Makoh'to: This one would work, too!

--

Makoh'to: Then a handful of diced onions...

Gaius: My hands are larger than yours.

Makoh'to: Hm...

Makoh'to: Two-thirds of your handful will do!

--

[I have told you before "I love you."]

[And you always reply "I love you, too."]

PAGE 2

[I want to tell you "I love you" every day, but it does not feel like enough.]

[Not after everything I have put you through. Asked of you.]

[But if learning new recipes with you...]

[...cooking your favorite foods...]

[... is a way I can say "I love you" then let his be one of the many dishes I will learn to make for you.]

Gaius, in Makoh'to's native tongue: Jao yak khao bor? (Are you hungry?)

Makoh'to, in his native tongue: Ah! Khoi yak khao haeng! (I'm starving!)

[Notes in Gaius's book]

Left Page:

...'to enjoys his food extra spicy

.. for padaek can take...

... out the container in...

Right Page:

One Makoh'to handful is roughly 125 ml

He uses a generous amount of seasoning

Note: He did not find a flat spoonful generous enough

The blue measuring bowl is in the cabinet below the spice rack.

... in lieu of bird's eye chilies

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 (𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧) 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

( dialogue prompts taken from episodes 1 & 2 ( "romance dawn" & "the man in the straw hat" ) of the netflix live action one piece series. feel free to edit and change as you seem fit. )

❛ do you have any last words? ❜

❛ the sea's been calling. well, not exactly calling, because i pretty much can't swim, but you get the idea. ❜

❛ so what do you say? are you with me? ❜

❛ liar! i know zoro must be after me. who else is worthy of his pursuit? ❜

❛ who's the most powerful pirate on the seas? ❜

❛ first things first. do you have any food here? ❜

❛ you don't look like a pirate. ❜

❛ i'm not afraid of getting hurt. and i'll prove it to you. ❜

❛ i don't get it. why would anyone want to be a pirate? ❜

❛ you have the wind on your back, the salty sea air, your loyal crew by your side. you never know what's on the horizon. it's all about being... free. ❜

❛ you should never let anyone tell you what you can't do. ❜

❛ well, remember the name, 'cause i'm gonna be king of the pirates. ❜

❛ people often visit shrines to light candles for those they've lost. who are yours for? ❜

❛ you've been following me for three days. what do you want? ❜

❛ look, i've been practicing what my face is gonna look like on my wanted poster.❜

❛ i've no doubt your mug will be on a wanted poster one day. ❜

❛ all he did was spill a drink on me. ❜

❛ you should've fought back! why didn't you kick his ass? ❜

❛ not everything can be solved with violence. a man needs to be strong, but he also needs to be good. ❜

❛ you're not a real man. you're nothing but a coward. ❜

❛ you ate a devil fruit? ❜

❛ ever since i was a kid, i wanted to protect people that can't protect themselves.❜

❛ if that's what you want, i think you should do it. i'll help you out. ❜

❛ my crew was attacked by pirates. i barely managed to make it out alive. ❜

❛ rice balls. for you. ❜

❛ you shouldn't draw your blade unless you're prepared to use it. ❜

❛ don't kill me, please. my father will give you anything you want. ❜

❛ i'd say you live up to your reputation. ❜

❛ what's up with the third sword? i mean, where does it even go? ❜

❛ what do you say, puppy? do you want to do a trick for me? sit up and beg. ❜

❛ i kill your kind for a living. ❜

❛ i mean it. i don't owe you anything. ❜

❛ you are going to get us both caught if you keep stomping around this place. ❜

❛ that was amazing. admit it. we do make a pretty good team. ❜

❛ so why did you decide to become a thief? ❜

❛ i needed to eat. you do what you have to, to survive. ❜

❛ you're right. nothing is more important than food. ❜

❛ all great fighters call out their finishing moves. ❜

❛ i don't work for you. ❜

❛ i'm sensing a little bit of tension amongst the crew. ❜

❛ before we met, every choice was made for me. but now i'm gonna do what i want to do. ❜

❛ next time we meet, we might be enemies. but for now... we're friends. ❜

❛ i'm feeling so... so piratey. ❜

❛ well, you're gonna end up feeling watery if i have to throw you overboard. i told you i need absolute silence. ❜

❛ don't mess with my hat. ❜

❛ oh, i'm sorry. were we interrupting your beauty sleep? ❜

❛ don't like what you see? look away. ❜

❛ you have a lot of names. i bet everyone in the east blue knows who you are. ❜

❛ are you making fun of my nose? ❜

❛ i know your type. if there's nothing to gain, you're out. ❜

❛ truthfully? i'm kind of hungry. ❜

❛ who are you trying to impress? a lost love? an absent parent? or was it someone that you worshipped? ❜

❛ i used to know a pirate that wore a hat just like this. ❜

❛ for a time, i even thought we were friends. until he betrayed me. just like all the others. ❜

❛ he wanted to keep me out of the spotlight! he wanted to keep my star from shining too brightly! ❜

❛ is that what he did to you? did he betray you, too? ❜

❛ you can slice me and you can dice me, but i'll always put myself back together again. ❜

❛ i've been thinking about you for years. ❜

❛ i know you're upset, but you should eat something. ❜

❛ you're never not hungry. what's going on? ❜

❛ you can spill a drink on me and i'll let it slide, but don't you ever threaten my friends. ❜

❛ you can't make people love you. just like you can't make them smile. ❜

❛ you really think anyone is coming for you? they don't care. and no one is gonna miss you when you're dead. ❜

❛ get lost. ❜

❛ i'm just glad that you're okay. ❜

❛ what was that? i couldn't hear you over all the drowning. ❜

❛ you really don't fear death, do you? ❜

❛ what's the plan? you do have a plan, right? that's your thing, plans. ❜

❛ you want out? you know the price you have to pay. ❜

❛ you want a piece of me? let's see what you got. ❜

❛ i think i'll miss you most of all. ❜

❛ we're gonna be the greatest pirates the world has ever seen. even greater than your crew. ❜

❛ this hat is the most precious thing i own. it means the world to me. and i want you to take it. ❜

❛ when we meet again, you can give it back to me. ❜

❛ is every day gonna be this crazy with you? ❜

❛ if the path to what you want seems too easy, then you're on the wrong path. ❜

[threepandas]

Always Listening: Yandere Present Mic

[Tracked down uncropped version! Art by @moromi100] ‐-----‐---------------------------------------------------------‐------------------------------------------------------------

It starts and you didn't notice. Almost no one in Japan did. Outside of the smartest sentient being on Japanese soil and the living cat-loving cryptid of the underground? No one was intelligent enough, observant enough, and CLOSE enough, to see the surprisingly subtle... hitch in behaviors.

Like a stumbled step. A fumble. The tiniest little twitch that gives away the lie.

It smoothed out immediately, of course, that next step graceful. The smile just as cheerful as ever. Only two sets of eyes SAW. Noted. And considered. What to do, what to do? Do they care enough to interfere? Is this interesting? Will it make one of THEIR'S happy?

It would.

So they did nothing. They could have. Should have. They are supposed to be Heros. And yet...

It starts and you don't notice. It builds and you are blind. But one day? As you jam along to your favorite radio station? It occurs to you. 'Huh, they're playing a lot more of my favorite artists then they used too'. You can't really think of WHY they would do that... maybe they're finally breaking into the big times? Getting their big break?

Good for them!

You go back to jamming out. Wishing you could sing along. But you can't, not in a crowded apartment block. Heck not ANYWHERE outside of a properly sound insulated dwelling. You know better. You've HAD to know better. Got the scars on your face, ears, and neck to prove it.

Fucking muzzles.

A voice Quirk holders common horror story. You'd think of they were so damn common, they'd at least put more work into making them HUMANE. But, no! Obviously our fault for not shutting up fast enough! Or WORSE! Gasp! Possessing voices in the FIRST PLACE!

Oh how DARE we want to TALK! Such a TERRIBLE crime!

You don't really talk to like... half your relatives thanks to that. Jerks. And, yeah, granted, "Talk" is stretching it. YOU could talk until you're blue in the face. THEY wouldn't be able to hear you. Would probably get really sick though. Possibly have a nervous breakdown.

You talk in infrasound, which can cause feelings of fear or awe in folks. You know, that "horror movie" or "something Supernatural is happening" feeling. You could and HAVE made serious BANK just sitting in the back of a high end horror house, reading vaguely spooky sentences into the speakers.

People fainted. Had panic attacks. There was a late blooming Quirk activation, cause some kid legit thought he was going to DIE.

You'd run out of script and were going through take out menus at that point.

Point is? People can't HEAR you. Outside of like a handful of folks with REALLY strong hearing quirks. And your voice is LOW. Not cute at ALL. You kinda hate it. Cause, like? You LOVE to hum. Sing. Be silly. Fun, normal, LOUD, everyday stuff! And you CAN'T. Cause you'll freak people out! Hurt them!

You really kinda hate it, you know?

And your last landlord was getting progressively more shitty about your Quirk. Accusing you of using it when you WEREN'T. Based off the "vibez" and how "creepy" his shitty apartment was at night. Like? Maybe if you CLEANED THE PLACE UP?! It's creepy because it LOOKS like somebody's gonna get stabbed!

But that's the sorta shit that gets innocent people arrested. So no dice! You're OUT.

New place is nicer anyway.

And? When you move in? Cute blonde with a cuter butt. Nice~ You are looking respeeeeectfullyyyy~☆ ooh! Strong blonde! Muscles! NICE. You have a FANTASTIC day. He's chatty! Knows sign! Great laugh! Meet cute with hot new neighbor, maybe? You don't want to get ahead of yourself.

And... and when reachs past you for one of the boxes?

Oh.

The makeup hides it pretty well. But you do the same thing. Scars in the same places. Voice Quirk, huh? No wonder he sounds so nice. It'll be good, you think. To have a neighbor that GETS it.

You stop trying to hide the scarring you forgot to cover up that morning. Get on with it. You notice HIM notice. That's right~ Same hat! You both grin.

But then you slip on the stairs. Thank FUCK new neighbor's just behind you, to catch you befor you fall too far. But of course... you cry out. A yelp, a curse, a babbled apology. Forgetting once again... he can't hear you. That your probably making everything feel like a horror movie.

But... but he DOES.

His jaw's on the floor. Head cocked like a puppy trying to find the source of a new noise. Eyes wide and AMAZED. He asks if that... that "beautiful sound" is you. Your face immediately feels like it's on fire. Oh dear God, he can HEAR you?! You don't know if that's amazing or terrifying. It's... it's been so long!

You had been forced to explain WHY you couldn't, you know, TALK to him in the stairwell. He'd looked so disappointed. It was amazing and too much. You didn't know how to handle it. Or if you WANTED too. But... you think you kinda do?

You and Hizashi, the cute neighbor, kept crossing paths. He's a Teacher and part time DJ. You think. Not the teacher thing, the DJ thing. You KNOW he teaches. He comes over sometimes, to grade English papers and get reminders he can write "you suck. So, so badly. Did you even TRY?" On a child's paper.

They are kids, Hizashi. Remember~ We once, too, were dumbasses~

And you know? It's not just him. Sometimes he brings his tired friend. The one that looks like a cat on a leash. Boneless and miffed to be dragged around when he could be sleeping. You give him you couch. Bought him a kitty patterned blanket and sound canceling head phones.

You're pretty sure you're the favorite right now. Bribery for the win!

Shouta finds your favorite station "Hands Up Radio" amusing. There is definitely a joke you're not getting. You let it go and get back to your hobby. Composing. Granted, no one's ever gonna be able to HEAR it. But you want to make an album. All in infrasound.

Something BEAUTIFUL.

Your mark on the world, you know? Hizashi had even offered up his friends recording studio. Seemed REALLY into. It's been nice, having such a supportive friend. He helps make the food, picks up both your mail, grabs like half the groceries from stores on the way back from his "gig". Other stuff you both get delivered. It's pretty convenient! He even showed you the app.

You kinda hadn't realized? How lonely life was. Back when it was just you.

Then Hizashi rocked up and inserted himself into your life. Brought all his friends. Noise and life and jokes. Fun. Your gut keeps telling you you're MISSING something. That this is too good to be true. A trap. But... but why CAN'T it be true?

The happy sitcom life. No nasty hidden secrets. No suspicious evils in the dark. Just... just a Genuinely Good thing happening for once? Something NICE. A meet cute with a cute guy, that turns into a friendship, that might turn into something more?

And if the voice on the radio sounds really familar? No it doesn't. If Shouta's eyes track and track and TRACK, like a hunter's? Man has an eye Quirk, probably normal. And so WHAT if Hizashi sometimes gets... gets LOOKS in his eyes? Tilts his head at just the wrong angle? And something in your gut KNOWS.

No it doesn't.

It's just anxiety. Hizashi is your FRIEND, damn it! You refuse, refuse, REFUSE! Everything is FINE. It has to be fine! GETS to be fine! You get to have friends and singing and takeout with people who CARE about you! A LIFE! And if Hizashi is a little weird? Then he gets to be weird! You don't see ANYTHING.

You let the radio play. Another song comes on.

It's another favorite of yours.

A coincidence.

You continue listening.

[heartfullofleeches]

Rubik Dice

Yandere Entity (Entities?) Blurb

An: In a vent of frustration with a rubix cube - I present this. [Brief mentions of death]

-

Six people to a room.

It's too many.

Between damped sobs and their own; and the feud in their head, they couldn't think let alone say their piece. How did this happen? How could they make such a careless mistake? It was just supposed to be an evening stroll. It had been a week since they'd been out. The longest they'd ever been put away. Being cramped under so long they had to get some fresh air or risk clawing out their throat for a clean breath. It's so cramped in their head, in this room. Six people is far too many to be alone with unless the last person is....

"Nice job, idiot. We're in enough trouble as it is - now what are we going to do?."

It was an accident.

"Don't be so mean! We all have our lapses in judgement sometimes.... Even if they are kidnapping not-so-random strangers off the street."

Didn't you tell me to do it?

"Haha- You really fucked up tonight, didn't you?.. He saw your face. No choice, but to kill him less you never want to be seen in public again? All I'm sayin' is my blades should still be in the bag."

We can't kill any more people. Why are you always like this? Please, can't we just -

"Leave this to a roll of the dice?"

Indecisive on topics ranging from daily meals to torture methods; the trio concluded their shared consciousness to one, unified:

"No."

"Take out that dice and I'm breaking your fingers. Why do we always have to be responsible for your fuck ups?"

"Such a coward. You can crack a brick over someone's skull to shut them up, but you can't stab a knife through their neck to silence them?"

"You know, someone has been reeeeeally quiet since we got back home. We all know what that means."

Ragged breathing stills in the face of its captor. The rambling maniac themselves has quieted to nothing more than a stagnant shell. They both know what's to happen next. There's only one way out of this now. He can beg all he wants, but he'll tell. Even if they believe him the others won't. Neighbors. The police. You. Everything always came back to you. Mistakes, failures, hopes. You'd hate them - all of them - if you knew what took place in this basement. You'd never want to see any of them again.

"Maybe we should let him go... They're pretty hot when they're mad. I'm sure they'd forgive us eventually."

"Quiet."

It's quiet now. How soon the commotion ends when that side of them says their part. Their voice doesn't like nails on a chalkboard. So sweet it makes teeth rot. It isn't authoritative enough to make those who heard Trimble in their wake nor is it meek and pathetic enough for a second listen. It was the amalgam of those voices - the best pairs.

"Now, Blu. You know we can't do things alone that we haven't discussed with everyone else before hand. Would you please let me out so I can take care of our little problem?"

"...ok."

Trembling hands retrieve the fist-sized cube from its pocket; chipped nails slid into the crevice separating the second and third row of squares. Why were they the one that had to solve it? These puzzles were always so hard despite the countless times they've done it - teary eyes aiding little to their cause. It becomes easier once they slide the third white cube into row. Their eyesight and mental slate become clear, cheeks dry and devoid of the faded acne scars that plagued them. They step towards their captive who was busy squirming away from the figure now five inches taller and missing the hunch in their posture that left them wondering how they had managed to drag them here in the beginning. Gaze piercing and laser focus as opposed to cowering from each sniffle. With those pure white eyes it's impossible to tell where they're looking, but the threat of being the target of their glance was petrifying alone. They were blue not even a minute ago. It was like they were a different person entirely - body and soul.

A dice falls to their victim's feet.

"Six.... You were fortune this time."

Another object grabbed from their robes. A single line drawn across their neck - and it's back to five.

"I knew you had that on you...."

"Awww, what the hell - over already? Should've made them beg or at least give us their address."

"May they have a peace rest.... Is what I would say if it were someone else, haha!"

"I think I'm gonna be sick..."

The figure pockets their weapon and stands with a stretch, stepping away from the growing pool of blood. "That was messier than expected. What should we do now?"

"Clean up this mess."

"Check Y/n's page."

"Send them flowers!"

"And this guy's heart in a chocolate box."

"All good ideas. Why don't we do them all?... Besides that last one."

Five people to a room.

As it always should be - until you come home.

[andkisses]

♡ just about anything | jay ♡

late nights, when really, both of you should have been asleep a long time ago, but who knew this game of monopoly would last so long?

♡ jay x gn!reader | wc. 1.5k ♡ genres/tropes: domestic, competitive couple that won’t quit, staying up way too late ♡ mentions of/warnings: pet names, food, lmk if there’s anything else! <3 ♡ a/n: a repost and revamp of one of my very first writings from YEARS ago </3 (from that blog i accidentally deleted <///333) 

♡ masterlist ♡

With the rest of the lights in the apartment off, the lone one above the kitchen table casts a warm glow into the darkness. The light illuminates the board, littered with green houses, red hotels, and Cheez-Its—you ran out of hotels about an hour ago (but who’s to say?) and needed something to represent a double-hotel on the board. There’s a notebook on the table that keeps getting passed back and forth, covered in numbers and tallies in two different handwritings. It’s currently functioning as a paper bank account, since the game has escalated far beyond the cash given  in a standard Monopoly box.

Your eyes are tired, nearly burning with ache; it’s been too long, and it’s very much past your bedtime. But the both of you are stubborn, and horrifically competitive–especially when it’s just the two of you. He seems just as drained, eyes dropping and his head propped up on a closed fist. The loose hoodie slides down his arm, pooling around the elbow, and he uses the sleeve of the other to wipe at his eyes. Just seeing him sleepy makes you sleepy, and your head is bobbing up and down. It would be so much better to be curled up in his arms right now. The game is one of chance at this point, all up to the dice roll. The only safe spots on the board are your own; everything else is meaningless to you. You know you want to land on your properties and not his, for those Cheez-Its are threatening and—

“Did you just eat some of the board?” you ask, the dice still caught between your hands. 

Jay looks up at you and blinks slowly, still chewing on the stolen Cheez-It. He swallows and takes a sip of his nearly empty glass of water before answering. “No.”

You shake your head, tilting it to one side. “No what?”

“No, I didn’t eat the board. I took it from the bowl, like a civilized person.” He points with his free hand lazily at the blue plastic bowl the Cheez-Its had been poured into when the demand for new hotels had arisen. How long ago had that been? Half an hour? An hour? Hours, plural? You couldn’t tell anymore. This game felt decades long yet you know you started it today. Or, was it really yesterday?

You reach forward and draw the bowl towards you, eliciting a tired pout from your boyfriend. “Well, you shouldn’t eat these either. We may need them.”

“And how could we do that, love?" Jay reaches to pick up the notebook and it flaps under its own weight as he lifts it into the air. “We’d need more money to upgrade any house or non-Cheez-It hotels, and we’ve already borrowed from an imaginary bank three times. Inflation is running rampant throughout this town. We’ve ruined the economy. We’re monsters.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jay shrugs, placing the paper bank back on the table before sniffling and wiping at his eyes again, this time with both hands. The ball cap he wears now sits askew on his head, and you, out of habit, reach forward to fix it, leaning against the table to help span the distance. Your fingers brush against the edge of the board, and the more you lean to reach across the table, the more you end up on top of the board. You’re out of your seat now, feet pressing on toes to get the height and length you need to reach to fix the hat.

And before you know it, you’re face to face and practically on the table. Jay leans forward and bumps his nose against yours while you adjust his hat. “We should stop,” he says plainly.

“Why? So you can win?” you mutter, half grumbling. One hand fixes his hat while the other acts as a brace against the table.

“No, so we can stop,” he says again, one hand reaching to rub simple patterns into the top of your hand. “The Cheez-Its will still be there in the morning. If we need it, Jake can bring his copy so we can have more actual cash to use.”

A quick hah escapes your lips. “You just want to win.”

“No, love, I just want to sleep.”

With his hat now fixed, you carefully lean back, peeling yourself off the table and into your seat. You’re silently thankful for the still intact Cheez-Its. Had they been crushed, you’re sure you’d given up, now feeling more tired than you were before your hat-fixing expedition—and that was already fairly tired. You’re about to refute his case, saying that the two of you should stick it out until the end, that surely it can’t be too much longer, when Jay takes his hat off—the one you so painfully just fixed—to run his hand through his hair before putting it back on, slightly crooked.

“Jay... I just... fixed... that.” You bite your lip, too tired to be angry out right but too tired to realize it also doesn’t matter.

“I know you did,” he replies, yawning into his sleeve. He begs again, a hint of desperation growing into his voice. “Can we please stop?”

You lean forward, resting your chin on the edge of the table and staring up at him from across the board. “Does this mean I win?”

“If you want to, love,” he says, scooting away from the table to stand, silently hoping his movement away from the game will pull you away as well. “If it means we can stop.”

A smile graces your lips as he walks around the table to your side. You take the hand he offers to help you up, holding tight. You pull his arm toward you, hugging it as you both shuffle forward into the darkness, the Monopoly board abandoned. “Thank you,” you say, stretching to place a kiss on his cheek.

“If it makes you happy, love,” Jay begins, his voice soft and tired, “I’d do just about anything.”

“Just about?” you tease, crawling up onto the bed and beneath the covers. “Meaning there’s things you wouldn’t do, hm?”

“Yes, just about,” he replies, mimicking your actions. Even half asleep, he still makes sure you’re tucked safely against his side, with his arm curled around your waist and your head resting on his chest. You hear his heartbeat, smooth and steady.  You wrap your arms around his own waist, a soft smile against your lips.

He continues, murmuring sleepily into your hair after a kiss to your temple. “Just about, because if you had asked me to continue playing with you I would have fallen asleep at that table.”

“And what’s so bad about that?” you whisper back, titling your head up to see him. Moonlight streams around the edge of your curtains, providing just enough light to see.

“I really wasn’t looking forward to waking up with Cheez-Its ingrained into my forehead,” he replies with a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t think the look’s for me.”

You laugh, snuggling in closer against his hoodie, and he laughs too. “I think you would have looked great,” you say against his collarbone, eyes finally lulling shut.

“Do you now, love?”

“Yeah, orange is really your color.”

You feel his arm leave your waist and a single finger place itself beneath your chin. You allow Jay to tilt your head up before you open your eyes. He levels you a stare long enough for you to think you’ve done something seriously wrong before a laugh makes its way out, and before you know it, he’s placing happy, smiley kisses across your cheeks, your nose. He stops before your lips. His eyes, even tired, are still starry and glittering. His voice has reverence when he speaks. “You know I love you with every fiber of my being, right?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I do.”

Jay bumps into your nose, hand playfully squeezing back at your waist. “That’s where you’re supposed to say I love you, too.”

You shake your head, fake-frowning. “But you haven’t kissed me yet?”

“Is that a suggestion or a demand?” he asks.

You shrug. “You choose.”

He leans forward, giving you the slightest, softest peck before pulling back.

You pout, chin tilting down. “You call that a kiss?”

“No,” he laughs, kissing the side of your cheek right beside your lips. “I just love your pout. I love everything about you.”

As he kisses the other cheek, just as close to your lips, you sigh. “I love you, too, Jay.”

And this time, he really does kiss you, although chaste and sleepy, but an honest kiss regardless. He tucks you back under his chin, wraps his arms around you so he knows you're safe. You’re nearly asleep when he finally replies, his own voice laced with sleep, and it’s enough to make you smile. Enough to know that he really would do just about anything for you. It makes you wrap your around him just a little tighter, make you smile just a little wider.

“I love you too.” That’s what you’d said. He says, in the darkness and honesty of your room, “I know.”

[riacte]

subjective + critical (NOT CRITICISM) wild life thoughts (no spoilers for winner, spoilers for finale gimmick)

Sorry for being back again. Anyways after watching Wild Life, I came to the conclusion that it's very... Grian. THIS IS NOT A BAD THING. In a way, it's always been very Grian (understandably so because it's his server and he picks the cast)— server wide event that gives everyone an opportunity to be involved, mechanics that toss you around haphazardly, random factor for funsies— I've watched Grian's minigames since HC6 Tag, Demise, etc, and there's a Grian-ness that I can't explain but I feel and recognise with my soul. This isn't Grian crit, I respect him massively for coming up with engaging gimmicks, I loved Demise 1, he definitely changed the scene of Hermitcraft 6, etc.

I previously talked about the experimental nature of Life series and how the emotional investment in Third Life was somewhat unintended. Wild Life is an experiment that's giving the expected results of Third Life— Grian-esque experimental gameshow about hanging out with friends and reacting to insane shit flung at you. The finale gimmick is all of the wild cards (seemingly individually chosen because of fun factor, no wider theme that connects them) together at the same time. It's fun! It's dramatic! It... doesn't have to have a deeper meaning!

Then comes the fandom's Swiftie tendency to connect everything (it's me, I'm the Swiftie), which is an inevitable and fun part of engaging with media. Famously, the LimLife winner symbolism debate. Coincidentally, the first three winners fit into celestial symbols, but it starts to fall apart with Martyn. But we love connecting stuff and making up symbols/blessings/curses, so we stuff Martyn and the following winners in anyway to honour them.

But there comes a point in which hyperanalysing everything sometimes feels like a stretch. This is a natural part of the life cycle I suppose. You can't recatch the lightning of 3L in a bottle, much like how All Stars Blue Bats doesn't hit the same as MCC9 Blue Bats. Wild Life is perfectly entertaining on its own, but to me it feels weird that it's tacked onto the Life series, like it's an afterthought. It has all of the cast so far, we get a lot of nostalgia bait, existing duos, but... it personally, subjectively doesn't feel like The Life Series TM. Like, it sure is A Sequel and Continuation of the plot but it feels like a Beach Episode. It's fun to watch! And... yeah!

And then you start to think. So maybe it's us who've been assigning a lot of Meaning to the first generations of Life series and now with Wild Life, it's finally reached its intended vibe of Fun Experimental Grian Gameshow. I remember someone said "what you're missing in the OG Life series was never there in the first place" and I see that viewpoint, it was like a collective hallucination. I'm gonna spitball if Wild Life was written by the fandom with attempts to "script coherent themes":

Fixed six sessions, first five gimmicks refer to previous five seasons, sixth sessions is every gimmick all at once

Clear "wild life" theme, which would keep the snails and superpowers probably, add possibly Origins, and cast members are encouraged to play into the theme (like BigB this season)

Dice theme, something about rolling 1-6, ties in with people starting with 6 lives

And we got the Gameshow. Individual gimmicks are quirky but don't seem really tied to each other. And there's nothing wrong with that. Sometimes you just have a bunch of fun ideas and throw them into a pot. But the fandom expects to have something to work with due to the meta starting from 3L. Even if it doesn't fit perfectly, it's fun to make it fit! That's why we do analyses and symbolism! It's the bread and butter of fandom!

This is where I bring up the Life Seriesification of Hermitcraft, which is probably related in ways I cannot fully explain. The Life series isn't just a fun gameshow, it's a JOB. It brings you clout and views and fandom relevance and fandom propaganda which brings you views and income. The Life hermits have generally become a closed circle, with exceptions like Ren who hangs out the most with non-Lifers. The fandom's desire to connect Life series meta becomes so overwhelming that it seeps into non-Life series stuff, prominently HC, and the non-Life hermits start to get sidelined. Okay, it's more like Life series meta is interesting, so your Lifers become more interesting, so you care about them more, so you care about their HC POVs more. It's a weird reinforcing circle. And if you step out of it for a while (Ren), your clout decreases (Ren), and even when you come back, you kind of.... don't get the same level of mainstream attention anymore even though your personal fanbase is going insane (Ren). (BigB also gets sidelined, although that is a different discussion.)

Anyways it Isn't That Deep and the main reason is probably The Novelty/Interest Is Gone. That and the segmentation of the HC fandom, which I am absolutely guilty of. I don't "need" to post or watch popular POVs because I get to know about them through osmosis anyway. So I end up only "caring" about a few POVs.

I am aware this doesn't make a good deal of sense and I'm sorry for being a party pooper of sorts. This is not criticism, just trying to analyse it through a critical lens.

Life series can keep on being a gameshow. It can be whatever it likes at this point. I'm just sick of it invading Hermitcraft fandom and tilting the balance overwhelmingly in favour of the Life hermits. It's suffocating.

Final reminder to myself, but replace "yourselves" with "Life series fandom":

[pitufitaispunk]

Velvet Ring

Chapter Three: Maybe

Pairing: Riff x Latina!Reader (West Side Story 2021)

Velvet Ring Masterlist

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June 10, 1957

I wake up at 5:30am and pull myself out of bed, my head pounding. It had been a week since I'd allowed Nardo to tell Manuel that he could accompany me to the dance and now, Manuel follows me around everywhere. It was sweet at first, he reminded me a bit of a lost puppy. Manuel would only walk me to and from work, but now he reminds me more of a parasite. This clingy behavior has quickly become irritating. He's began to join me to go to the market, he hangs around the florería all day, and he's also started coming around the apartment a lot more. It feels suffocating. That little window of time I had after work that was just for me has become 'Manuel Time' and I barely ever get a minute alone anymore. However, it's also been a week since my encounter with the Jet. I don't know what happened with him, but I haven't seen him anywhere. Not that I would want to anyway, but it's still weird. Maybe the Jets were up to something, probably thinking of new ways to make my brother and his friends miserable. That thought makes me feel even more guilty for 'missing' the Jet.

I put on my slippers and shuffle across my room to grab my pink robe, wrapping it around myself before walking out into the kitchen. I glance over at Anita and Bernardo's bedroom, seeing Bernardo is still asleep in their bed, but I can hear Anita in the shower. I begin making some eggs for myself and for her, considering she almost always made breakfast for us. When she walks out of the bathroom, she's wrapped in a towel with a blue shower cap on her head. She smiles at me and sits down at the dining table, "¿Por qué estás despierta tan temprano?"

I shrug, placing a fork and a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her, "I like the quiet." I grab my own breakfast and sit down next to her. We eat in comfortable silence before I speak again, "Anita, ¿puedo preguntarte algo?"

"Claro," She nods, wiping her mouth with a napkin, "What do you want to ask me?"

I look down at my lap, fiddling with the hem of my robe, "I just wanted to ask about the Jets."

She quirks a brow at me, "The Jets? Why do you want to know about the Jets?"

I look up at her, stilling my hands, "I'm just curious. Nardo never tells me anything and I don't think it's safe to be so clueless about everything going on around me."

Anita sighs, "I know as much as you do, nena."

I know she's lying and give her a pleading look, "No me mientes, Anita, por favor. Just tell me anything!"

She puts her fork down again and points a finger at me warningly, "Fine. But you don't tell your brother I told you." I nod eagerly, making her purse her lips, "Well, you know they're the reason Bernardo is always stressed," She says softly, I nod. "And to put it simply, Y/N, they're destructive little gringos who think they own the streets. They terrorize Puerto Ricans day after day because they think we don't belong here. Or rather, they think we don't deserve to be here in their glorious country." I swallow hard, guilt weighing on my chest. Anita takes her shower cap off and begins touching up her hair, "Anything else you want to know?"

I nod, "Do you know any of their names?" I ask, trying to sound casual about it.

Anita huffs softly, "Why do you want to know their names? Do their names matter? They're all the same anyway." I purse my lips and Anita raises her hands in surrender, "Ok, ok, no te pongas de malas. Well, there's, eh... Riff, the leader. Obviamente." I pinch my brows at her words, clearly it wasn't that obvious to me. I've heard Bernardo say that name multiple times, but the leader of the Jets was still faceless to me. Anita continues, counting them off on her fingers, "The... ¿como se dice? Ah, the second in command is Ice. Hm... the youngest is Baby John, the buff one is Diesel... Ay, there's too many to count, but you get it." I wondered which of those names might have belonged to the Jet I've met or if she even mentioned him. Anita gives me a tight lipped smile, "Now are we done here?"

I laugh softly and nod, "Creo que eso es suficiente. Gracias, Anita." As I stand to clear our plates off the table, Anita grabs my wrist. "Don't go snooping around the Jets, ok? Now that you have all the information you need about them, you will stay away."

I laugh awkwardly, "I wasn't going to snoop, lo prometo." She gives me a look and I sigh, "I'm just tired of everyone treating me like a kid, I don't need to be protected from this stuff anymore. It's time for you, Bernardo, and everyone else to accept that... Well, I should go shower before work." I scurry into the bathroom, locking the door behind me before Anita can get in another word.

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At work, I seemed to keep getting distracted. I accidentally knocked over a potted plant, I tripped over a box of new gloves and ended up tearing my dress. I was a total mess and it was all because of that Jet. I've always been a fairly curious girl, but I'd never wanted to know about someone this much. It wasn't because I liked him or because he's good looking, it was because he confused me. Why would he flirt with me? He knows I'm Puerto Rican, so why would he flirt with me? A million questions begin to flood my mind. Was it all some cruel trick? Was he planning an attack on me to get back at Nardo? Does he even know I'm Bernardo's sister? I don't think I'm on his radar now, but I hope I see him again soon, just so I can give him a piece of my mind.

"Y/N, ¿estás bien?" I hear Lupita's voice call and I'm snapped out of my thoughts. I look up and see Marisol and Lupita giving me strange looks, then I realize I'd been watering the same plant for about 5 minutes now and the pot was overflowing with water. I hurry out to the alley to drain the water, cursing softly under my breath. I then hear footsteps shuffling towards me.

"Looks like someone had too much to drink."

I freeze. I know that voice well by now. It's him again. I quickly take off my name tag before he can see it. I look up and there he is, towering over me. The Jet. He was wearing a thin white tank top with dark blue jeans and scruffy black sneakers. I place the potted plant down on the cement ground, stand up straight and narrow my eyes at him, trying to look tough.

He just laughs and steps closer to me, "So, you work here?" He asks, pointing towards the florería.

I scoff softly and gesture to my uniform, "Do you think I just wear this apron for fun? Yes, I work here."

His eyes widen, surprised that I finally spoke back to him. The look of shock is quickly replaced by amusement as a smug grin grows on his face.

I turn to head back inside then I hear him step closer to me again. I look back at him, my brows pinched, "You can't come in."

He smirks, his hands in his pockets, "Wasn't going to. So... what's your name?"

I snort, "I'm not telling you that."

He tilts his head coquettishly, giving me a sly grin, "Aw, come on. What's the harm in just telling me your name? Promise I won't wear it out." He drawls.

I roll my eyes at his attempts to charm me, "There's a lot of harm in telling you my name. You could... I don't know, sic your boys on me."

This makes the Jet laugh heartily, "Sic my boys on you? That's a good one. Come on, sweetheart, I'll do you one in return if you just tell me. Besides, don't you wanna know my name?" His gaze has softened, but I'm still wary. It could all be some kind of trick.

I scoff, "No. You Jets are all the same anyway."But it was lie. Obviously, I've been dying to know his name, but if he knew that, he'd just think I liked him. Jets are very cocky that way.

He hums softly at my response, then looks up at the sign above the door, an white plank of wood with the words 'Empleados Solamente' in fuchsia colored cursive letters with flowers painted along the sides.

"What's that mean?" He asks, pointing up at the sign.

"Employees only." I say firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. I wasn't going to back down or give this Jet the satisfaction of knowing that he scares me just a little.

His gaze flits back down to me and he smiles, his hands raised in surrender, "Alright, doll. I get it, I get it. I'll get out of your hair... if that's what you really want." I purse my lips and he laughs, "I'll take that as a yes."

He begins to walk away before he stops himself and turns to look at me again, a smirk on his face, "So... will I be seeing you at the dance?"

I pinch my brows, "What?"

He shrugs nonchalantly, "Will I be seeing you at the dance?" He asks again, putting emphasis on each word.

I lean down to pick up the potted plant then look up at him again, "Maybe." I say softly before quickly hurrying inside, locking the door behind me.

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After work, I am accompanied by Manuel back to the apartment. He quickly explained to me that he got too busy to drop by today during my shift, but he didn't know I was secretly glad I finally got some time to myself for the first time in a week.

Manuel is a quiet boy, so the walk back home is always an awkwardly silent one.

I look up at him, my lips pursed, "So, Manuel, how was work today?" I ask, making an attempt at small talk. Manuel and all four of his siblings work at a panadería, La Noria, ran by his mother and father. Bernardo always sent me there on Fridays to pick up some mallorcas, so we could have something special for dessert.

Manuel beams at my question, "Estaba bien. It was a busy day, but you know I love it there more than anything. ¿Todavía vas a venir mañana a comprar tus tres mallorcas de siempre?"

I laugh softly, "Sí. You know how Nardo is, he loves mallorcas."

As we finally arrive to the apartment, I fish my keys out of my purse and unlock the door, letting Manuel and myself in. He makes his way over to the couch and plops down tiredly, letting out a long sigh.

I quirk a brow at him, "¿Estás cansado?"

He hums sleepily and nods, "Sí... y tengo muchísima hambre. Could you make me something? Unos huevos o algo."

"Por supuesto." I roll my eyes and grab a pan from the cabinet. I was tired too, but I would make him some eggs anyway. I walk over to the stove and place the pan down, slicking it with oil once it's heated up. I crack two eggs into the pan and sprinkle some salt on them.

Manuel sits up slightly and cranes his neck to look at me, "Gracias, Y/N. You'll make a great wife someday."

My eyes widen. Did he mean I would be a great wife to him? I suck in a deep breath and turn to look at him with a forced smile, "Thank you, Manuel. Because that's always been my dream. To be a great wife."

He smiles at my words, obviously he didn't pick up on my sarcasm. I know Manuel means well by saying that— as well as my brother and a few other men I know— but I hated that they always saw me as a future housewife, when that's not really what I want to do with my life. I admire the women who are devoted to their families in that way, but I would really love to run a flower shop of my own someday.

"Y/N, could I have a glass of water?" Manuel asks softly, his voice startling me a bit.

I plate his eggs quickly and nod, "I'll get it for you right now." I hand him his eggs then get him a glass of cool water.

He quickly eats his eggs and gulps down the water, then checks his watch, "Hm, I should get going now. My parents said I have to be back to the bakery by 5:00." He stands from the couch and hugs me, "Gracias por todo. You're amazing."

I smile sheepishly, "It's nothing." Manuel returns my smile before leaving the apartment. Once he's gone, I sit myself on the couch and kick off my flats, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Soon after Manuel leaves, Anita and Bernardo come back home from work. Anita groans softly as she peels her heels from her sore feet and places them neatly by the front door, Nardo rubs her back before making his way to the fridge to grab the carton of milk. Anita practically limps over to the living room and sits on the couch next to me, "How was your day, nena?" She asks, stroking my hair tenderly.

I smile softly, my eyelids drooping as her gentle touch soothes me, "Uneventful."

She stills her hand and gives me a smirk, "Uneventful, huh? Bernardo and I saw Manuel leave just now… what did you two talk about?” She waggles her brows at me suggestively, making me roll my eyes.

“Nothing. He sat on the couch, half asleep, while I made him some eggs. Manuel isn’t a very talkative person.” I shrug.

Anita sighs softly and sits upright, lowering her voice so Nardo wouldn’t hear, “Ay, nena, I told you that you don’t have to go out with him if you don’t want.”

I lean my head on her shoulder, “But you see how happy it’s made Nardo. I don’t mind it.”

Anita purses her lips, “I just don’t want you to feel obligated to date whoever your brother wants you to. There are plenty of nice boys in our neighborhood.”

Our neighborhood. I force a smile and nod, “Sí, lo sé. I’m content with Manuel for now. He’s a sweet boy. A little clingy, but sweet.”

Anita laughs and pulls me into a tight hug, “If you say so, Y/N.”

Bernardo walks into the living room, biting into a crisp red apple, “Vamos al mercado.”

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[patrophthia]

cruel summer | regulus black

pairing: regulus black x reader

genre: fluff, song fic, love confessions (?), regulus is a attention seeking piece of shit (affectionate), clingy reg, not beta read

wc: 1.1k

this is request ! i’m sorry it took so long, i hope you liked it!!

tag: @tr4ppola

Your favourite pastime activity was lying. Little white lies, that is, lies that were so obvious that everyone knew not to take them seriously. Like saying you were a muggle whilst you cast a complicated spell, or saying that you had once dyed your hair a colour that you swore to never do, or saying that you were —in no ways, involved with Regulus Black whatsoever.

Sneaking around though, was on the other end of your favourite things to do. You like Regulus too much so you let that factor slide through.

It's as if you only ever see him during the quiet nights where no one could ever spot you. You know that that isn't how a normal relationship should function but the red flag tends to look white when you look at it through rose tinted glasses.

More often than not you feel like you earned him, a (semi) bad boy who was wanted by everyone in school. He was a shiny toy with a price and you know damn well you bought it.

The meeting spot is different this time, a room within a room in the room of requirement. He'd only told you to meet him at the room of requirement at ten and you showed up right on time only to be met with confusion.

In front of you were a set of doors, circling around you as you stood over stained glass rings, blue merged with pink then pink into purple where the centre of the room was. Instead of figuring out how to find him on your own, you call out to him, "Regulus?"

"Down here," he replies, you look down onto the glass pane and furrow your brows when he is nowhere to be found. "Stand at the centre, sweetheart."

You do as you were told, watching as the glass dips under your weight; you can hear the mechanics working, it unlocking steps for you to take. Once you finally meet Regulus, you cock your head to the side with a teasing smile. "An oddly complicated way for just a booty call."

Regulus frowns, "this isn't a booty call, ma chérie." He moves towards you, and you let him place his hands on your hips. "I just missed you."

You roll your eyes and Regulus thinks that while the devils may roll their dice, he was sure angels spend their time rolling their eyes at him and his behaviour. But then again, what doesn't kill him makes him want it more. And you were just that.

Opposite does attract after all.

"You shouldn't miss me so often," you fixed him a look. "My friends are starting to suspect where I go so often."

It's his turn for Regulus to roll his eyes, albeit more elegant and poise then you ever did. "This is your fault," he groans, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "We wouldn't have to be doing this if you just told everyone about us."

Regulus had decided to keep your relationship a secret at first, wanting to test the waters and after the first few months went smoothly. So smoothly that he'd found himself smitten with you. He wanted everyone to know, he knew that it was weird for him to claim you but he'd like people to know that he wasn't willing to share.

But you think a lot, way too much at times, and decided that no, you do not want people to know about the two of you. Because, you wanted him all to yourself, you liked him too much for other people to know.

"I'm sorry, my love," you say first, a hand reaching up to brush back his outgrown curls. "I promise it won't be for much longer."

Contrary to popular belief, Regulus Black was a clingy person, so touch starved and clingy that you pressed a kiss on the top of his head for good measure.

He stills for a moment, obviously planning something before he presses a kiss to your neck and pulls away. "Would you still love me tomorrow?"

"What?" You splutter, confused on why he decided to bring tomorrow up. "Of course, I do."

"Thank you, mon amour. I love you too." He says before asking. "My game's tomorrow, you're coming to see me right?"

"I always do," you tell him and he smiles. "Why are you asking me this?"

He makes a face. "Just trying to make sure my girlfriend won't run away before my plan unfolds."

Slytherin were losing, and the longer you watched Regulus not even trying to seek out the snitch the more you realised that he was throwing the game on purpose.

You stood up from your seat in the stands and found your way to the railings. "OI! BLACK!" You call out and he turns to you distractedly. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THE SNITCH IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU."

He turns away, looking uninterested. "I can't see a thing, sorry."

You were starting to get annoyed now, confused on when Regulus had gotten this kind of attitude but you chopped it up to how being dramatic more often than not runs in the Black family.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" You yell, your voice loud despite the hundreds of others also yelling the same thing at him —albeit with a little more colourful words than you were using. "WHY AREN'T YOU PLAYING?"

"I want you to tell them," he says instead of answering your questions. You're a bit confused on how you can still hear him over the sound of support from the other where their Seeker was actually doing the job. "I want them to know."

"KNOW WHAT." You began to yell when it dawned on you. He wants you to tell everyone about your relationship. "ARE YOU CRAZY?"

He shrugs. "Do you want me to win?"

Knowing how pouty he could be if he didn't, you steel yourself for what's to come next. "REGULUS BLACK." You yell and you can see the other team's seeker dive towards the snitch. "I DON'T WANT TO KEEP SECRETS JUST TO KEEP YOU FOR MYSELF ANYMORE."

The crowd goes quiet, waiting to see the scene unfolding before them. Of course it was another Black brother hoarding the attention all to themself, creating a scene as they stole the spotlight from everyone else.

So you prepare yourself, screaming for what it's worth. "I LOVE YOU. AIN'T THAT THE WORST THING YOU HEARD DURING A GAME?"

The other team's seeker loses sight of the snitch, audibly gasping at your confession towards his rival. The snitch continues its way around the pitch.

"NOW PLAY THE DAMN GAME SO PEOPLE CAN KNOW HOW COOL MY BOYFRIEND IS."

The snitch finds it way a few feet above Regulus' head, you want to laugh at how this was playing out. The snitch was just invested in this as everyone else.

The snitch holds his spot and everyone watches with bated breath because, one, the game seems like it was nearing the end, and two (the much important reason they were watching) was that they wanted to see how Regulus would react.

His eyes look up from his broom and meets yours, it took him a few seconds before he broke away. Looking up, grinning like a devil at his now second prized possession (with the first being his chérie of course).

He reaches his hand up, easily snatching the snitch with a breath-taking grin. He clutched onto the snitch tightly, and a second wave of anxiety hit. What if he'd mistaken something else for the snitch amongst everything that had just happened?

Finally, Regulus unclasped his fist, letting the snitch hover above his palm. And as the game officially reaches its natural ending. The announcer's voice started up.

"It looks like Black has gotten the win this round," the announcer says first, their tone playful. "And would he be a black brother if he didn't get the girl as well?"

And then, since you had always been outgoing, so outgoing in fact, that everyone in the castle knew of you and your habits. So just to be sure, the announcer adds, “this isn’t one of your lies right?” 

You can’t help but smile at that, Regulus had always found your smile infectious so, naturally, he found that it was useless to even try hiding his smile from you as he awaited your answer. 

“Why would I lie to you about this?” 

— from bee: i hope you liked this! and is what you’d imagine when you’d sent in the request! feed backs/reblog/notes are appreciated!! :]