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a-b-riddle · 23 hours

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Part 9 (unrevised version). Since I've gotten 6 messages and a good bit of asks requesting to view it. Here it is, not in its final form.

You had hoped Monday would have treated you better than the past two days, but walking up to your shop in the pouring rain to already see a body standing outside waiting wasn't a good sign.

Customers who waited outside your shop always made you feel uncomfortable. But when you finally got close enough, you took in the person before you.

"We don't open for another hour." Your voice flat as you fished for your keys.

"I'll wait." Was Kyle's reply.

"Then you'll have to do it outside." You said, the key sliding into the lock. He didn't argue as you shut the door behind you. Didn't even bother knocking when, after thirty minutes, you looked in the window to see that the wind was causing the rain to blow sideways.

You relented. Letting him in thirty minutes earlier. It was a small mercy, even if he was soaked to the bone. You almost felt bad when his chattering teeth were the only thing you could hear.

Almost.

"I take it John told you about our little talk yesterday." You said, going about your business. Engaging in the conversation as if you were talking about the shitty weather that had tried to drown him.

"He did." He gave a sniffle. Running a hand over his beautiful, wet face. Droplets still staking their claim on his skin. "H-he alssso t-t-told us we were on our own in begging for our own f-forgiveness. Ra-ra- rightly s-s-s-so."

You huffed. Guilt beginning to eat at you before you turned, disappearing to the back of the store and coming back with a shirt and a blanket. "You left the shirt here."

He had no shame and wasted no time in taking off his jacket and soaked shirt. His chiseled body exposed to you. It was almost instinct to reach out and touch the soft skin. You luckily possessed some form of self restraint.

"So are you here to promise to make amends as well?" You crossed your arms. You meant it as a sign that you were wanting to create distance, but honestly you didn't trust yourself. It was second nature. Kyle and Johnny were tied when it came to having to always touch you.

Probably why his ghosting sucked so bad.

"I'd like to take you out." You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. It wasn't until Kyle's face fell that you realized, "Oh, you're actually serious."

He opened his mouth, ready to no doubt give you the same exact promises of doing better that John had given you the day before. Fortunately for Kyle, you didn't have the time to entertain a conversation.

"Fine." You immediately relented. No argument. "That Indian place where I asked you to go four months ago. Seven. If you manage to figure out which place, then I'll be meeting you there. Otherwise you'll be eating alone."

Kyle stood still. Unprepared for the fact that you had... agreed. You actually agreed to let him take you out.

"I can pick you up."

"Not sure what time I'll be getting off today. Might go home first. Might just go straight there." You started opening tasks again. "I have to finish setting up. Seven sharp.

"Seven sharp." He repeated, his smile lighting up the room.

It made you feel sick.

It was 6:45 when your phone started ringing. It was Kyle. Confirming that he was at the restaurant you were supposed to go.

7:00. He had gotten the two of you a table. He'll go ahead and order you a drink. They had mango lassi, but wasn't sure if you wanted to stick to just water.

7:15 He tries calling you. When it goes to voicemail, a follow up text is sent asking if you're okay.

At 7:20, while sitting on the couch you text back. Sorry. Something came up. We'll reschedule, I promise.

If you knew giving them a taste of their own medicine felt so good, you would have done it ages ago. You felt no since of shame in sending it. You hated being petty, but you wanted them to know what it felt like.

John had a lot more of verbal outbursts coming his way and if Johnny was hoping for a chance, he would be lucky if you had sex with him again before marriage.

Ten minutes later, on the dot, there was a knocking on your door. Your food had arrived. Blindly, you opened the door. Only instead of the take out you had delivered, Kyle stood there. Yet again soaked to the bone and this time out of breath.

"How did you know I was here?" Was the first thing that had come into your mind. If anything, he would have went by the shop first, but no. He came here. You weren't the type to deviate from a schedule, but christ. Simon at your date and then the club. John at the shop on your day off. Now this. "I swear to fucking god this fucking stalking-"

"Easy now, Love. No one's stalking you." Bullshit.

Absolute bullshit. They were military. Really important and special connections type of military, but this was bullshit. They were keeping tabs on you somehow.

"I know for a fucking fact that place is only ten minutes away. So you didn't have time to check out my store-- where I should be-- before coming here. So I'm going to ask you again, how did you know I was here?"

"Okay," he shrugged. "Stalking. We're stalking you." Kyle was lying. We he nodded like a bobblehead, you knew whatever was coming out of his mouth was bullshit. The first time you confirmed it was after Johnny had volunteered to make haggis. Kyle told him it was good, no doubt hoping to spare his feelings.

"Kyle." You warned, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched. He paused as if trying to form another lie, but coming up short. Sighing in defeat, he confessed.

"Blocking us didn't stop you from sharing your location." In that moment, you could have strangled him. They had been still using your location. Something you had given them as a way to find you if you ever needed help. Now those assholes were using it for their own benefit.

"Son of a-" you shut your mouth. "I can't do this with you right now, okay?" You didn't confess that your publisher had asked for a last minute zoom call in the middle of your busiest work hour to see how you felt about doing a few meet and greets, all expenses paid.

Good news, but still... overwhelming. You still felt like an imposter. That you didn't deserve the hype you were getting. Your story wasn't that good. Your characters didn't hold much depth.

"Everything okay?" You didn't want to tell him. Didn't want to give him the chance to offer the reassurance you desperately needed for something he had no idea about.

"Why?" You asked, changing the subject. "I just want to know why? With John I get that the job gets stressful and needing someone to take-"

"No," he finished. "That's not an excuse. It's a reason. Not an excuse." His jaw clenched. "There is no excuse for how any of us treated you."

"Then what was your reason?" you asked. "I'm finding it very hard that someone who quite actively avoided me suddenly wants to get back together."

"I slacked off?" He shrugged. "I figured there were four of us and if I wasn't able to be there, it wouldn't make a difference."

"If you're just going to lie, Kyle, there is no point in continuing this conversation." You go to close the door only for his hand to stop you.

He stands there, looking at the ground. Even from the this angle you can see him take his bottom lip between his teeth.

He's nervous.

You step back. Giving him the option of coming in and saying it is whatever it is he needs to stay. He may be an ass like the rest of them, but this isn't exactly a conversation you want to have in the hallway for your nosey neighbors to hear.

He takes the silent invitation. Walking in and not speaking until you click the door shut. "You want the truth?" His voice is soft, but there is something else behind it. Anger?

"No," you say sardonically. "Please. Lie to me." He sighed, but didn't say anything. You were exhausted. The past few days had been a back-to-back rollercoaster of emotions. You were drained. You didn't have it in you for this right now. "Kyle-"

"I thought you only kept asking because you felt bad for me." He said the words so quickly, it took you a moment to process them. He thought.... you felt bad for him? "Like you were still trying to include me even if you didn't want to."

"Why?" Was the only thing you could come up with. You didn't have the energy to try to come up with your own reasoning for his admission.

"Don't think I don't know how I am compared to the them." He scoffed. You always knew the hierarchy of their work, even if you didn't know all the details. John was at the top. Captain and head bitch in charge. Simon was the lieutenant with Johnny and Kyle as Sergeants. Kyle was the youngest of the group by two years, but still. What was there to compare?

"So you're not a Captain or Lieutenant?" you shrug. "Johnny is the same rank as you. And you are the youngest and I'm sure with time you'll get to a position-"

"Black!" He said. "I'm black. I am the only fucking black guy not only in this relationship. I'm the only black guy in the 141, in the unit."

When it came to Kyle, black was the last thing you thought of. You thought of his soft brown eyes or house his hands felt so smooth against your body. How his smile could light up the room and how beautiful, how head-turning gorgeous he was. "I'm just an after thought in everything else regarding the 141, why would you be any different?"

"Ky," you were going to be sick. Was this how he really felt? With you? With the others? With work? "You know I don't feel that way, right?"

"Do you remember that time we went out? That french place?" How could you forget. The maître d' had asked Kyle to put a card on a tab before the two of you were even seated. At first you thought it was preposterous. Why would you make patrons at a fine dining restaurant do that? This wasn't a pub for Christ sakes. Kyle told you not to worry about it and handed over a card.

The two of you never went back.

"Oh my god." It dawned on you. "When they asked for your card..."

"I..." he sucked in a breath. Trying to keep his composure. "It was fucking humiliating. I was a man dressed to the fucking nines with a gorgeous girl on my arm and before I even got the chance to blow my money, I was treated like I couldn't afford it. It wasn't because of what I was wearing or who I was with. It was because of me. Of who I was. Who I am."

"Kyle," words escaped you. Nothing in that moment to reassure him that it never dawned on you. That it stupidly never dawned on you how there were times that people did look at him different. You wanted to tell him that it didn't matter. That you were just as important and lovable and respectable as the others. That you loved him just as much. Words failed you. All you could say say was, "I'm so sorry."

He swallowed, before taking in harsh breath through his nose. "It's not an excuse. I got wrapped up in my own stupid fucking head about how other people looked at me, I forgot it only mattered how you did."

"And you did." You said, aching to reach out. To touch him. Offer some comfort. Hating that he ever felt like he wasn't enough. Knowing the feeling all too well. Even if he was the one to make you feel it. "You did matter to me."

"I know." He said. You were thankful he said it clearly. Not shrugging his shoulders or nodding his head as he spoke. "I'll do anything to matter to you again." He took your hands in his, even though they had ached to hold you closer. But he knew not to test his luck. "If you want to press restart and let's take it back to the very beginning, I'll do that. I will court you and woo you and make you fall in love with me all over again because I will never fall out with you. I can't."

You weren't prepared for this. You had prepared to leave Kyle waiting in a restaurant alone. Now your heart ached in your chest at the idea of letting him ever think he wasn't enough because of the color of his skin.

"It doesn't have to be now or tomorrow or next week or next fucking month." He squeezed your hands the same way had John had. With the exact same intensity and promise. "Just let me try again. I won't let you down this time. I'll put in the work."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to work to make this relationship work, Kyle." You protest, wanting to pull your hands away. Free from the spell his touch had seem to be putting you under.

He smiled. Not enough to show off his teeth, but enough where have of his face lifted up. "It's not the type of work with long hours and a shit commute. Loving you is the same kind of work an artist puts into making a masterpiece. Pouring everything into it and getting something beautiful in return."

Before you could comprehend it, your face was wet. "Kyle." Your lips quivered, a sob threatening to come out. "I never felt like I needed to spend time with you, Ky." You sniffled. "I fucking wanted to. I missed you." You were so close. You needed to reel it in. Get it together.

"I just didn't understand how you could." His confession broke any restraint you had. Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to subdue your cries. When Kyle pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you, you allowed yourself to crumble.

Not even for yourself, but for him.

For the kind heart you now knew broke with every sideways glance from passer-byes. For the hateful and prejudice world you lived in and for how they could overlook such a wonderful man just because of something as basic as the color of his skin.

You weren't sure how long you stood crying. You weren't certain if the knock on the door behind him actually happened or something your mind had conjured to try and pull you from your fit.

Eventually you did pull away from him. Your face covered in snot and tears. Seeing that you still were in need of it, Kyle pulled you back to him, only this time your face wasn't buried into his shirt.

You stood there. His arms wrapped around your back while yours found their home around his waist.

"I used to love when you would come back to my place directly from base as soon as you got back from a deployment." You said, breaking the silence. "I would be waiting like a kid on Christmas waiting to see what trinket made you think of me. You made me feel like even though we were so far away, you still thought about me."

"Always." He said, before his lips pressed against the top of your head. "Not a day I didn't miss being here with you."

The two of you eventually settled down on the couch. Both on opposite ends with a hot cup of tea in your hands and the array of take out containers half empty. You had planned for a night of eating your feelings so there was luckily enough food for two.

"I don't want to say no." You admitted. "But I need time. Before I even think about saying yes to all of this again."

"Not all of this," he reminded. "Just me. I'm doing my part in groveling, let the others figure it out. Or at least that's just what Price told us. Although you would be doing all of us a favor if you talked to Johnny?" Your ears perked up. You hadn't seen or heard from Johnny since Friday.

"What's wrong with Johnny?" You asked.

"Lad didn't cope well with you going on your date." Not that you had fucked him and said it was a mistake.... or maybe he kept that tidbit to himsle.f

"It wasn't a-" you started.

"I know," he said. "Simon happened to be nearby." You shot him a look, letting him know you weren't buying that lie, before he continued. "But he didn't. Fuck you're lucky we were able to drag him out of your apartment before you got back and he made an even bigger fool of himself."

"What are you talking about?" You asked. "What do you mean by drag?"

"Johnny called Simon. Told him you were on a date and to bring your ass back. Although you had made it a point to fuck him and leave-- absolutely no judgement, by the way-- he was going to make it a point to never leave your bed."

"My top sheet..." You had come home to your comforters and pillows on the floor. When making up your bed, the top sheet was missing. You had just assumed you didn't put it on or maybe it was in the wash.

"Refused to put his clothes back on. Me and John couldn't risk carrying a naked, screaming Scot through the streets without making a spectical. So we rolled him up and carried him of like a rug. A very heavy, squirmy rug."

"Oh," your hand flew to your chest. "Johnny." He was the bleeding heart of the group so you weren't exactly surprised. He was also the one who blew up shit, so he was definitely one for dramatics. "So that's how Simon figured out about dinner. But the drinks-"

"Whenever Simon is home, he's your shadow. The only time we don't worry about you is when we know he's with you." That made you roll your eyes.

"You act like he's my guard dog."

"He is."

"Is not." You defended, your conversation from Saturday night coming back to you.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be."

"He's not." you said again.

"You're right." Kyle relented, shrugging his fucking shoulders.

"You're saying that like you're just not trying to argue with me." He took a sip of your tea. "Kyle!" He sighed before looking at you as if the last thing he wanted to do was continue on the subject.

"He is." He said. "Your guard dog."

"I mean he protects me, but all of you do." He shakes his head, a huff of air going out of his nose, almost amused.

"Not like Simon." He admits it almost as if he were ashamed. "I want to say something." He said it as if he were preparing you for the next words to come out of his mouth would change the course of the night. "I need to say it because it would make me less of a man and even less of a friend if I didn't. But I don't want you to hate me or yourself for it."

Why would you hate yourself for it?

"Fine." you agreed, giving him permission to continue. "I won't hold it against you."

"You were always the one to coordinate things to do. One-on-one dates. Helping John with paperwork when shit got to crazy and you were the only one the uptight asshole would let touch his files." You gave a small smile remembering how John had barked at a recruit to get the fuck out of his office before peppering you with kisses at your arrival. Giving small pecks of appreciation as he explained what he needed you to do and how to do it.

"Helping me after my shoulder injury and staying on my ass about the physical therapy."

"Well someone had to." You countered.

"This past Christmas when Johnny needed to get his sisters gifts so you made a whole day out of it going to see lights and ice skating." Johnny was the proud owner of a freshly bruised tailbone after landing flat on his ass and swearing off skating for the rest of his life. Feckin' ice.

"Okay?" You asked, not really sure where Kyle was headed for this. He had pointed out what a good girlfriend you were, had been. How you had always tried to be helpful and do whatever needed to help your boys out.

He stopped. He looked at you as if he were debating to tell you what he had warned you about. He looked down at the floor before taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"Fuck." He muttered.

"Spit it out, Kyle!" You whined, now clueless to what point he was trying to make by all the examples of what a good girlfriend you had been.

He looked at you with the same solemness that a friend looked at another friend before having to call them out on their shit, knowing that the pill they were about to be given would be a hard one to swallow.

"You never did that with Simon."

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #angst #john soap mactavish #angst with a happy ending #grovel

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draconic-desire · 2 days

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DD’s Yandere Poll Series: Surviving the Yan!Penacony Boys (based on this post)

Rules/warnings: Read the below scenario and pick your answer or comment your own reaction. Dark content ahead!

Incident #3 — The Interrogation

Bright light floods your vision, eliciting a hiss as you repeatedly blink to regain your senses. Shielding your eyes is useless; your hands are pinned tightly behind your back, your wrists already starting to throb.

Once your eyes adjust, you find yourself tied to a chair, arms and legs bound to the wooden frame with thick rope. A few tugs and attempted kicks lead you to quickly relent that your bindings aren’t budging.

Shaking the fuzz from inside your head, you examine your surroundings.

While most of the room is cloaked in shadows, your chair is illuminated with a bright spotlight, highlighting the laminated flooring beneath your feet. Directly in front of you stands a long bar, perched upon a podium to elevate any individual behind it. The room is completely bare otherwise, giving a cold, clinical appearance.

How in the Aeons’ names did I end up here?

“Ah, you’ve finally regained your senses.”

You jolt, the voice to your left sending gooseflesh across your skin. It’s deep, full of condescension and authority, and almost certainly male. Sweat trickles down your neck.

Confirming your suspicions, a tall, muscular figure steps from the shadows beside you.

Your already rapid heartbeat skyrockets. Despite his scowl, the man is undeniably handsome—golden eyes to complement his dark purple locks, full lips and strong, toned arms on display thanks to his single-sleeved attire. You’d typically be blushing as he grips the back of your chair with one arm and leans down close to your face, if it weren’t for the unwelcome and compromising position you’re in.

You struggle to swallow. “I—um, sir, there must be some mistake—”

“You are (Y/n) (L/n), are you not?” he interrupts. His breath, minty with a touch of sage, tickles your nose as he closes the gap between the two of you even further.

“Um, yes…?” You cringe at how pathetic you sound, but really, how else are you supposed to react when a stranger has you apparently kidnapped and tied up?

The man rolls his eyes. “Come now, at least admit to your own name. If you can’t do that, how can you own up to the consequences of your actions?”

Head spinning, you ignore the fact that you think he just implied you’re stupid to instead focus on his latter comment. Despite your situation, you can’t help the spark of indignation that rages in your chest. Maybe that’s what makes you stupid: your sharp tongue. “Excuse me? Consequences? Are you lecturing me? And how do you know my name? Who even are you? Why am I here?”

Tilting his head slightly, the man lets a subtle smile pull at his lips. “Finally asking the right questions.” He stands and paces behind the podium in front of you, appearing like a judge presiding over court.

“My name is Dr. Veritas Ratio, and you, (Y/n), are my wife.”

You jerk back like you’ve been hit. That is certainly not what you were expecting.

A startled laugh escapes you. “I don’t have a husband.”

Ratio hums in response, jotting down something in a book he pulled from his robes. “And what is the last thing you remember before you woke up here?”

“Woah, woah, are we just going to glance over the fact that you’re claiming we’re married?!” you shout, panic creeping into your bones. So not only have you been kidnapped, but the individual holding you is also insane. Great. “I’ve never seen you before in my life!”

A deep sigh fills the room, followed by the sound of lead scratching against paper. A low mumble that you can barely discern contemplates, “Perhaps the dosage was too high this time? Such an amnestic response is unusual… Could a physical stimulus be required to invigorate her hippocampus?”

The damn man is treating you like a science project!

Before you can retort, he pulls out two small vials of liquid, both no larger than your thumb. He sets them down on the table before you and gestures to each individually.

“You now have a choice. Drinking this,” he motions to the right, at the vial possessing a golden liquid flecked with sparkling, iridescent particles, “will restore your memories. You’ll remember me, and everything that led up to this point.”

Remember him? Did he drug you into forgetting, and this was the next step in his experiment? If what he claims is true, why would a husband ever do that to his wife? Your head throbs.

“Or, choose this vial,” he points to the lefthand bottle, a concoction so dark it mirrors the midnight sky, “and you will forget everything and get to walk out that door shortly after.”

Your eyes narrow at him. Surely there was some sort of catch. His language was too vague to be of any comfort at all.

“Why are you making me choose at all? This all seems like one really fucked up joke.” You tug at your bindings again, letting out a growl of frustration.

Ratio pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You’re lucky I’ve grown so fond of you that I can overlook your insipid questioning. You will choose.”

“And what happens when I do? Surely it’s not as simple as remembering you or being freed. You don’t seem like a man who would go to all the trouble. What’s in this for you other than forcing me to be your little lab rat?”

After a pregnant pause, Ratio clucks his tongue. “Fine. I suppose it doesn’t matter if I give away the answers. You’re clearly not thinking straight.” He places his notebook down and picks up a vial in each hand, holding the small things between his thumb and index fingers.

“The gold bottle here will completely restore your memories. You want to know the whole truth about us? How you ended up in this room? Why it’s not the first time we’ve had this conversation?” Your breath hitches; what did he mean not the first time. “Then drink this one. It will probably give you a leg up, since you’ll recall all those past times you tried oh so fruitlessly to escape me.”

He then raises his opposite hand as your horror builds. “Alternatively, this vial will completely wipe your memories, but only of me. You’ll recall everything about yourself, your life, hobbies, et cetera…but in doing so, you will be helpless the next time we meet. You will have no defenses, and one way or another, you will be my wife again. That much has already been proven true.”

The floor falls from underneath you. Aeons, how many times have you taken that midnight liquid? How many times have you been in this very scenario, drugged into forgetting him, only for him to court you time and time again. Clearly you must reject him each time, but he’s so lost in his obsession that he has to reset you each time you try to flee. The thought makes you immediately nauseous.

Despite your dry throat, you manage to croak out, “And if I refuse to take either?”

Ratio’s expression darkens, his chin tipped up haughtily. “Don’t test my patience, (Y/n).”

You gulp, eyes flicking back and forth between this two hands. You must choose.

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winterrrnight · 2 days

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there’d better be a mirrorball

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you couldn’t attend senior prom, so your boyfriend bought the prom to you.

WARNINGS: mentions of puking and food poisoning, sweetheart rafe, usage of nicknames, intentional use of lower case

EDITH SPEAKS: huge huge thank you to miss @zyafics who had to see my poorly edited photo of a terrace and helped me figure out that it’s called a ‘gazebo’, except that picture didn’t actually have a gazebo in it (I’m sorry I’m so bad at explaining shit 😭) but yeah zya you’re a real one ilysm 💙🌟

if you liked reading this please consider reblogging! feedback is always appreciated 🪩

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it was the saddest day of your life.

you went to sleep all excited, your dress laid out, your shoes right next to the dress, your jewelry picked out, a clear image of your make up look in your head; just for you to wake up and do the last thing you’d expect for that day: puke.

your puke was unceremoniously cleaned up by your mom, who when touched her hand to your forehead, claimed that you were burning up. when you tried to speak, your voice barely came out – it was hoarse and heavy. and it was even worse when you couldn’t stand on your own two feet for a few moments before starting to feel an intense body ache that had you flopping back onto your bed.

“I’m sorry darling, but I don’t think you should go to prom today–”

“no!” came out your rough voice, tears starting to blur your vision as you took a look at your perfectly arranged dress and accessories for the coming night. your mom couldn’t bear to see the sight but she had to exercise her never expiring mom card and made you miss the prom.

you were laying in your bed, your curtains drawn and the lights turned off to not let any harsh lighting pulsate your already throbbing headache even more than before. you had called your boyfriend rafe and had given him the unbearing news of you not being able to attend prom because of your horrible health – which was concluded as food poisoning by your mother – and he felt his heart shatter with the news.

rafe, who was never interested in prom before, was looking forward to that night because you were his date. you made his decision regarding proms flip to a total 180 and convinced him on how fun it would actually be, and now what? now, you can’t go, you: the light to the dark side of his moon.

“then that’s simple, I’m not going either,” came his voice through your microphone. you groaned for what felt like the millionth time, and shook your head.

“you are going rafe,” you said, your voice clearing up just a bit thanks to those sharp tasting lozenges your mother dumped into your mouth. “okay? you are going. the rest of our friends are going to be there, and it’s the senior prom! you are going, and that’s final.”

damn. even when you’re lying sick in your bed, you still have your control over him.

rafe reluctantly agreed to go to the prom, but before he went there, he stopped by at your place to check up on you. he brought you some fresh flowers and put them in a vase to sit in your room.

“when I come back, I’m coming straight to you, okay?” he murmured softly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead gently, not listening to your whines on how he shouldn’t kiss you because you were sick.

the hours passed, and you made a quick scroll through your social media – something which you knew you shouldn’t. there were already a gazillion pictures and short videos from the evening, everyone dressed up in fancy fabrics from head to toe, jewelry gleaming on their ears and necks, and familiar pop music played in the background. you sighed, feeling yourself getting more and more sad and left out as you practically threw your phone aside, and decided to just nap to get your mind off of it.

you were woken up by your name spoken by an all too familiar melodious voice, and a soft nudge to your shoulder.

“wake up baby…” you heard in your ear. you opened your eyes and were met with rafe’s bright blue ones. his blazer had come off and was hanging on his shoulder, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows.

“yeah?” you muttered as you rubbed your eyes and sat up.

“come on, I want to take you somewhere,” he said in a hushed tone as he watched you awaken.

“take me where?” you asked and without any questions, you followed rafe’s lead, who helped you to your feet and helped you put on your shoes. he draped his blazer over your shoulders and took your hand, leading you out of your room.

“just come with me, you’ll love it,” he said softly, grinning from ear to ear as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and led you out. you lived only a few doors down from tannyhill, and rafe kept you well tucked under his arm as he kept up with your slower pace of walking than usual and led you to his place.

he led you inside the huge mansion, and when he saw how tired your body had gotten from the walking, he carefully picked you up bridal style and carried you up the stairs, all the way up to the terrace.

“now…” he hummed as he set you down, both of you standing right outside the closed door of the terrace. “i’m going to cover your eyes, okay?” he said softly, and when he saw you didn’t interject, he covered your eyes with his fingers. he opened the door and carefully led you out to the terrace.

“i’ll lift my hands in 3… 2… 1…”

at 1, his hands came off and you were greeted with a sight that made you gasp.

multiple strings of golden fairy lights hung all around the terrace, a record player spun in a corner, a table was covered with drinks, chocolates and other little treats, and to your right, right under the wooden gazebo, was a mirrorball.

a mirrorball hung right from the center of the gazebo, spinning slowly and slowly as it reflected silver light in different directions, producing a complex display. you gasped at the sight, the spherical object rotating and momentarily reflecting across you, the reflections mere spheres that appeared and disappeared on your body at different parts each time.

“rafe…” you muttered, and you felt his arms wrap around your waist from the back, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“this is our prom baby,” you whispered in your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck.

“when… when did you even do this?” you whispered, still in awe from the entire decoration.

“I came back from prom early, it was extremely boring without you,” he murmured. “couldn’t stand being there without my pretty girl,”

you turned around in rafe’s hold to face him. “this… this is so beautiful…” you whispered, looking in his twinkling eyes. you wanted to say more, you really did, but you were falling short of words because you were still trying to recover from the surprise.

“not as beautiful as you baby,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you broke into a smile. he can be so cheesy.

“now come on, I believe you owe me a dance,” he grinned as he walked up to the record player. he changed the vinyl spinning and you watched him curiously, but all curiosity washed away when you heard the gentle instrumentals of there’d better be a mirrorball fill the space around you.

he walked back to you with a cheeky grin and took your hand in his, leading you to the gazebo where you both stood right under the mirrorball. he took your hands in his and brought you closer to him, placing your arms around his neck and placing his around your waist, and starting to sway you gently to the music.

you rested your head in the crook of his neck and he kept you close in your arms, both of your eyes fluttered shut as you gently swayed to the music, taking in the moment.

“I love you,” you heard the faint sound of rafe’s voice in your ear. you felt your heart thump at his words, a soft smile forming on your face.

“I love you just as much,” you whispered back, burying your face in his neck. he smiled softly at your words, pressing a kiss to your temple as he continued to sway you both.

by the end of the night, you had completely forgotten you had to miss prom.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @sage-burrow @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom @b1mb0slvt

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russellsppttemplates · 1 day

Note

Surprising Max at a race in his driver's room and you and him try to have a moment alone but Rubert interrupts him for the free practice

With the help of the media girls, you managed to arrive at the paddock and get inside the hospitality without a hitch and without Max noticing you.

The idea to surprise him was a surprise to yourself as you found out you had a few days left of holiday days to take until the end of the month before they expired, so you used them up to go and see Max race from the garage instead of doing it from the sofa.

You successfully managed to get inside his driver's room and wait there, hearing his voice on the corridor, "yes, I'll be out in a bit", Max stated before he opened the door, "Y/N!? You're here?!", he gasped.

"Surprise!", you cheered, jumping to his arms so you could finally hug him, "the triple header was making me miss you even more and I had a few days that were about to expire", you explained into his neck.

"I missed you so much, liefje", he muttered, littering kisses along your neck, kissing your lips and going back down to your shoulders, taking advantage of the low neckline of your dress.

"We could kill some of that longing while we're here", you suggested, pulling the hem of his t-shirt so you could take it off.

A couple of harsh knocks on the door alerted you out of your bubble before Rupert's voice echoed, "Max! We need to start the pre race work! And I need to stretch that muscle you complained about yesterday!".

"I could just tell him that I'll help you stretch out", you smirked.

"Y/N, I know you're in there, but I really need your boyfriend!", Rupert mused.

"Me too, Rupert, me too!", you yelled back as you got off of Max's lap, arranging your dress before you opened the door.

"Max is shirtless", Rupert stated.

"It's the muscle on his neck and shoulder that's tight, figured he wouldn't need to put it back on!", you blew Max a kiss before you exited the room.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#max verstappen blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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frostbitebakery · 2 days

Text

LOUD.

a background check.

“Are you angry?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, eyes trained on his hands wringing the shirt’s fabric in his lap.

“It’s okay if you are.”

Obi-Wan shook his head again. It wasn’t okay if he was angry. Even before Melidaan they’d accused him of being too headstrong, too volatile. Too angry.

He’d been so angry on Melida/Daan.

“Are you scared?”

He nodded before he could think. The nod, too, was too volatile, too angry.

“Are you scared you could infect people?”

Amongst others, he thought a bit hysterically. Nodded.

“The healers have tested, rigorously, if you can infect others. They have confirmed that you are not a danger to others, Obi-Wan.”

Which was the only reason he could be outside his room when the walls got too small or too big.

“How are you adjusting to the mask?”

He shrugged. Sometimes he wanted to rip it off and half his face with it. Sometimes he wished he could crawl into it completely and escape the curious looks and whispers of how his jaw was gone, have you heard? I’ve heard he’s rotting underneath—

It started with a cough after Melida/Daan.

He got message after message on the progress after he left and it made him smile, sometimes laugh at the betrayed disbelief over how much bureaucracy was actually necessary to form a planetary government.

The laughs soon turned into hacking coughs.

He drank the tea Qui-Gon made him to soothe his throat.

“Just a cold,” he murmured. He’d had that one before leaving Melidaan, and he and the Temple healers figured it was the stress his body had to endure that finally caught up with him.

“If it gets worse,” Qui-Gon started, looked down into his own cup, and fell silent.

Obi-Wan’s return to the Temple was a mixed bag of loth cats, after all.

A year of rumors and no contact showed him exceedingly well and painful in its brutal subtlety of lost smiles and avoidance who his friends were.

Lumi— Luminara had waited outside the healer’s wing after a follow-up check. Had straightened up when she saw him and clasped her hands in front of her. “I am very happy to see you, Obi-Wan,” she said, halted and stiff before the anger got the better of her.

What in the Galaxy had compelled him to leave the Order? No sign of him. Just an official statement that he had chosen to leave the Order. And now he’s back?

“What the fuck, Obi-Wan!” She reeled back immediately. Took a step back.

And Obi-Wan’s life had taught him how to step forward despite the fear clawing at him. “Let me explain? Please?”

She huffed at him, head up high. “This better be good. Quinlan is driving me up the Temple walls with his teenage drama sullenness over you.”

So that was why Obi-Wan hadn’t seen him but exactly once since he’d come back.

Obi-Wan explained. The war. Master Tahl. Master Qui-Gon. The war. The children. The war children. The war. The war. The war—

He hiccuped on the tears and something… something changed. In his throat. He lifted a hand to it—

Lumi’s arm was around him, stroking his shoulder and crying with him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—“

He coughed, convulsed with the cough, and there was blood on Lumi.

It had started with a cough after Melida/Daan began to turn into Melidaan and he, what felt like, crawled back to the Order begging for forgiveness and a new path and a new Master while he was at it.

What followed was multiple summons to the Council, a closed door meeting of the Council and Qui-Gon after which his Master wouldn’t look him in the eye for a week.

What followed was Master Tholme being dragged across the courtyard by Quinlan who avoided his eyes but emanated stubborn help. The Shadow Master, which was only a rumor but a rumor that had lasted decades, drily looked at Quinlan before explaining to Obi-Wan how Quin had washed and pleated the robes Master Tholme was now wearing. Would Obi-Wan like some tea?

Tea turned out to be a monstrosity of a milkshake, a secret even more closely guarded than Shadow identities.

“I have been informed you are looking for a change.”

What followed was Obi-Wan getting to know Master Tholme as a person. The soft, comfortable core of him that was never betrayed by his stoic expression but rather the old fashioned music player his first Padawan had gifted him that he danced to in the sanctuary of his kitchen. His silences that invited to share, his calm demeanor, his high expectations and his steady, grounded, and ever ready provided help.

Before all that, the new Master, the old Master, a planet uniting, there was a kiss in victory, in celebration, and in genuine, heartfelt thanks, that transferred a local bacteria.

And that, that had started the cough.

“The Force is with—“ is the last thing he’s spoken with his own voice and, with distance and age, he’s rather proud of that one.

A lot of distance and age, granted.

Getting eaten from the inside out had hurt, had pushed him to the brink of insanity with how much it hurt even with the healers - five, six, seven healers working simultaneously to keep him from dying - keeping the pain at bay.

They had used the Force to try to contain the bacteria’s progress, trying to buy time to figure out what was attacking him.

He’d succumbed eventually. The pain, the sheer force of wills battling against the infection, half his neck just… gone. He’d succumbed to unconsciousness with Master Qui-Gon’s forehead against the back of his limp hand, and waited to see if he’d wake up again.

“The system Melidaan resides in has a strain of bacteria that,” newly graduated Healer Che halted, managing to shuffle her data pad like a stack of flimsi, “eats human-based tissue. The population is vaccinated and only very few cases have been reported in the past decades. It has been nearly forgotten.”

It spread orally.

Obi-Wan, when everyone was gone and he had managed to limp to his data pad on the table across the room, had sent a message “are you okay? Please go to the hospital”. Had crawled to the fresher, had scrubbed his lips and sutures raw and bleeding, and cried silently until dawn jostled him back to bed.

“How are you feeling, Obi-Wan?”

He shrugged. Eyes trained on the cracking open hands in his lap. “How is Thelar,” he signed.

“They are recovering well. Their healer contacted our office to let you know that they are alright and they are sorry.”

Thelar was too nice.

“You pushed them with the Force. What happened?”

Talking and teaching basic sign language and he got to take his first deep breath without the mask and in the company of friends.

Wet and too narrow and he was drowning in the liquified tissue of— no air, no feeling, his lips pressed against his teeth and he couldn’t feel it but the drowning and choking—

“They kissed me,” he signed.

#loud au #my wips #star wars au #obi wan kenobi #cyberpunk au #jedi shadow!obi wan

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greentrickster · 2 days

Text

It occurs to me that, in light of his discovery about Shang Qinghua's true nature and relationship to the world, and of his own place within all this, Mobei-jun's probably going to become just a touch insufferable, though not in the way he usually is. Like, the biggest hurdle to the Moshang relationship from his perspective is that he's never, ever been able to get a solid read on this weird servant of his. Mobei-jun can't figure it out for himself, Shang Qinghua refuses to explain himself or ask for anything other than his own life even as he makes himself indispensable and pulls off these amazing acts of service, but he also seems terrified of Mobei-jun a lot of the time, and, frankly, yeah, I'd be confused and irritable as heck after a couple decades of mixed signals like this too. And that's on top of having some very well-founded and (given his life experiences) extremely understandable trust issues.

(Because, while Airplane is genuinely my favorite, I can also acknowledge that, from Mobei-jun's perspective, he probably looks shadier than Reigan from MP100.)

Except now? Now. Now Mobei-jun knows why Shang Qinghua's always been so squirrely and secretive, why he's always been devoted to Mobei-jun even while terrified of him, why he never responds to Mobei-jun's overt courting tactics in spite of seeming to find him attractive... he's got all the pieces. Including that absolute, most important of pieces:

Shang Qinghua loves him best. Shang Qinghua has always loved him best.

I think that knowledge makes him melt a bit. Not because of who or what Shang Qinghua is, but because Mobei-jun finally, finally understands this strange little man, and that means it's finally safe to trust him, fully and completely.

Of course this makes our favorite popsicle melt a bit. And, when popsicles melt a bit, it's only natural that they get a little sticky.

Which is to say Airplane is never going to have to worry about touch-starvation again, because he's going to be getting all the hugs and cuddles and pats (and affectionate (and very careful) slaps and pinches, because Mobei-jun's doing his best to respect boundaries but he's still a demon and this is part of their culture, society, and nature (and also because Airplane has come to the conclusion that if Mobei-jun gets to have a go at his cheeks every now and then, then Airplane gets to smack the butt in retaliation, and Mobei-jun has yet to disabuse him of this notion)). Also just picked up and carried around sometimes, because Qinghua's legs are so short and he works so hard, it is unfitting to make him work extra to keep up with Mobei-jun (which is definitely the only reason he's doing this, not because he just wants to carry Qinghua around like his favorite cuddle toy just because he can, really).

There's at least one Peak Lord meeting that Shang Qinghua arrives to via Mobei-jun carrying him there bridal style. This is also the meeting where everyone has to deal with the fact that Shang shidi has a demon king hugging his waist while laying his head in Shang shidi's lap, because Qinghua needed to attend this meeting, but Mobei-jun wasn't ready to stop cuddling yet.

And when everyone makes extremely reasonable noises about maybe not having a demon king in attendance while they went over private sect affairs and maybe Mobei-jun should leave, the giant brat just looks at them all with one eye and says, "No, I'm his favorite." And then closes his eye again and proceeds to ignore them all in favour of sticking his face in Qinghua's stomach and having a nap.

Meaning now they all have to live with the knowledge that Shang shidi is the most important being in the world and what his taste in men is like.

Shang shidi going, "I mean... he's right, and also I've been telling him stuff about these meetings for years and also, like... you can't really stop me." does not help.

#svsss #scum villian self saving system #shang qinghua #mobei jun #moshang #great god airplane

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put-me-through-the-wall · 1 day

Text

Okay but imagine Possesive!Konig finding out someone has a crush on you. Like maybe there's guy from work who likes to linger by your desk little too long or alway finds a reason to text you when you're off. You don't think too much of it, you've always been friendly with your coworkers. It can be dull just sitting at your desk for eight hours so a little conversation helped break up the time. You figure he was harmless. Then people in the office start to notice and you realize how frequently he finds a reason to interrupt your day. Your other coworker once made a joke that he was your 'work husband' and that was the line for you. Not only were you uninterested but you also have a 6'7 hunk of a man waiting at home, who you're very content with. Then you start to notice how close he stands to you. The way he uses any excuses to brush against you or pick a piece of lint off your shoulder. So the next time that guy approaches stops by your desk you are only giving short responses. He offers to grab you something when he goes to the cafe and you refuse. He tries to walk you to your car but you insist you have to stay over to finish up some forms. He doesn't catch the hint though. You don't want to be harsh and spoil the work relationship, that last thing you need is more drama in the office environment.

Then one night you're at home on the weekend. You're sitting on the couch with Konig watching some German cooking show he insisted on and your phone lights up with a text from your dreaded admirer. "Hey! A couple of us are getting together tonight for some drinks. Would love for you to join ;)",

Your stomach tightens when you unlock your phone and feel Konig's stare over your shoulder.

"Who is that?" His tone remains flat but you feel his arm tighten around your waist. You pray he doesn't assume there is anything going on behind his back.

"This guy from work who won't stop bugging me. I'm keeping things strictly professional but he's always pushing it". You reply back to the text quickly giving a lame excuse that shouldn't warrant a response. Your phone chimes almost immediately.

"Aw too bad, I was hoping I could get you that cocktail we were talking about. Next time then xx".

You don't text him back after that and flip your phone over on the coffee table. "Sorry, let's finish this episode." You settle back against his strong chest but he sits up and grabs the remote, pausing the show.

"No, I'm tired and it's late. Let's get to bed." He rises and heads to your bedroom.

All you can think of for the rest of the night is how he interpreted the whole interaction. Could he think you flirt with this loser? Surely, he would have more faith in your loyalty. You knew you were taking the easy way out by not being totally honest. The guilt eats at you knowing you lied by omission. You thought keeping your work life and personal life separate would be easier but now you realize it was just a way to avoid the confrontation. After a not so restful night sleep you are you determine today is the day you'll finally let Pat know that you are in a committed relationship and don't appreciate the attention you receive from him. Konig is already up and dressed while you stir your coffee still in your robe. You didn't know much about his work other than it was something to do with the military and it called him away at a moment's notice. He was out of the door with a kiss on your head.

When your breathing finally slowed to a steady pace last night, Konig was able to sneak out from under you and take a peek at your phone. He wasn't worried about his sweet libeling doing anything naughty behind his back. The contents of your phone only confirm that. The real purpose of his search was to find out some more info on your coworker. He looked through the many texts this guy has sent with way too many emojis attached while you give him mostly one word responses. He knew you didn't have a wandering eye. After finding his phone number and social media from your accounts it wasn't hard to get a hold of his address. By the next morning he had a plan in motion. He kissed you goodbye and headed out. You are such a trusting girl, wishing him a good day at work. He plugged in the address and found the place with ease. Actually not too far from your place. He parks a few block away from his destination. Dressed in a dark sweatshirt, he keeps the hood up to hid his identity without looking too suspicious. He reaches the complex, taking a moment to observe the apartment building. He sees the man walk by the patio door while buttoning his dress shirt, innocently getting ready for work. Trying to look his best for you, he's sure. Konig slips on his mask and knocks on the front door. There is a moment of shuffling and the door swings open.

"Can I help you...?" The man voice becomes weak as he stretches his neck up to meet Konig's steely gaze behind the sniper hood. Konig takes out his phone to confirm the identity, holding the screen next to the man's face just to be sure.

"You are Pat?" Konig questions.

"Um, yea?" Pat responds.

Konig squints down at him, tilting his head "You do not know who you are?".

"I mean, yes I'm Pat" His voice now more certain.

"Very good." Without waiting for a response Konig shoves the him back inside of his apartment and slams the door shut with his boot. Pat falls backwards and lands hard on his ass. He shuffles backwards but not fast enough. Konigs snatches him up by the collar of his crisp white shirt, slamming him into the nearest wall, knocking picture frame down in his wake. He catches the scent of his overpowering cologne making his rage boil over. He holds the man in place with a sturdy forearm against his skinny throat. Pat's feet dangle off the floor, kicking helplessly.

"Look man, you've got the wrong guy here! If this about the bet at the bar I've got the money. Let me just-" His cracking voice is cut off by a swift punch to the gut.

"Listen to me" Konig hisses through clenched teeth and pushing on his windpipe. "You will call your boss today. You will quit. Is that understood?".

"Huh?" He squeaks out. Another jab and Pat is scratching at the solid arm retracting his oxygen. Konig removes his hold and Pat crumples to the floor, gasping for air while gripping his abused neck.

"Is that understood?" Konig's voice booms in growing rage.

"Yes!" Pat answer between coughs. Not trusting any man's word Konig watches him make the call letting your boss know he will not be coming in for the indefinite future. Satisfied with the work he's done, Konig drives back to your place whistling along to a familiar tune on the radio.

You head into work, psyching yourself up on the car ride there. Rehearsing the conversation and possible scenarios that could play out. Once clocked in you nervously sit at your desk, bouncing your leg, trying your best to focus on the workload before you. Just waiting for the inevitable moment he appears but, it never comes. The hours skip by and Pat never shows himself. It's not until lunch time you finally leave your desk round the corner to see Pat's desk being packed away. You walked up to your manager clearing out the drawers.

"Hey, where's Pat?" you ask.

"Oh, you didn't hear? He quit." She tosses the last of the trinkets in the cardboard box and closes the flaps.

"Quit? why?" you feign concern but you can't help the wave of relief that washes over you.

"I'm not sure. He called all in huff this morning. Did he say anything to you?" She asks.

"No not at all. I hope he's alright." You watch her take the box in her arms, leaving the empty desk. Maybe this was the universe finally giving you a break.

You get through the rest of your day and head back home. You find your oversized Austrian man strewn across your couch, cleaning out a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

"Hello there, I'm guessing your day went well." You say as you shuck off your jacket and hang up your bag.

"Yes it was very fulfilling. I took care of an issue that has been bothering me. How was your day, mien engel?" He set the empty carton on the coffee table as he polishes off the spoon.

"Very good actually. Remember that guy who was bugging me at work? He quit today." Konig's eyebrow shoot up in surprise.

"That is one less thing to worry about then." He say. He rises from the couch, grabs you by the waist and pulls you tight to him. "I'm glad to have you all to myself."

#Konig x reader #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig fluff #konig fanfiction #konig fic #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty #modern warfare

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latanyalove · 1 day

Text

Special Love

* . °•★|•° °•|☆•° . *⋆ ──⋅☆⋅⋆ ── * . °•★|•° °•|☆•° . *

Pairing: Monkey D Luffy x Jealous Y/N

Summary: You get jealous from the affection Luffy was getting from the Minks

A/n: Happy Birthday to the future King of the Pirates! I kept delaying this and now it's a whole week after his birthday! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! WC: 2,770 <3

* . °•★|•° °•|☆•° . *⋆ ──⋅☆⋅⋆ ── * . °•★|•° °•|☆•° . *

Monkey D Luffy, you and half of the crew find yourselves on Zou, an island known for its touch-sensitive animals. As you explore the island, you quickly realize that any contact with the animals can trigger a variety of reactions.

Some animals become docile and friendly, while others become aggressive and defensive. It becomes a thrilling challenge for you and the crew to navigate through the island without accidentally setting off a chain reaction of animal responses.

"Hey Luffy, be careful! These animals on Zou are really sensitive," You warned as he watched Luffy approach a group of touch-sensitive monkeys. Luffy grinned mischievously and replied, "Don't worry, Y/N! I'm gonna figure out how to make friends with them all!"

With his rubber powers, Luffy managed to gently touch the monkeys without triggering any aggressive reactions, earning their trust and forming a unique bond with the touch-sensitive creatures.

As they continued their adventure on Zou, Luffy's ability to connect with the animals became a valuable asset, allowing the crew to navigate the island without any major incidents.

"Wow, Luffy! I can't believe you managed to befriend all these touch-sensitive creatures," Franky exclaimed, impressed by Luffy's knack for making connections.

"Yeah, it's amazing how your rubber powers come in handy," Usopp added, admiringly. Luffy grinned proudly, "Well, they're my friends now, and they're gonna help us find the way to the next adventure!"

With the crew's trust in Luffy's unique abilities and their newfound allies on Zou, they set off on their next journey, ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.

As they reached the outskirts of the city, Luffy and his crew were stunned by the sight of the once thriving city in ruins. The destruction was immense, and it was clear that a fierce battle had taken place.

They were led to the secret base of the Mink Tribe, where they learned that the city had been attacked by a powerful enemy seeking to capture the Minks and exploit their unique abilities.

The crew's hearts sank as they realized the gravity of the situation and the need to help their new allies rebuild their home. With determination in their eyes, they pledged to stand alongside the Mink Tribe and restore their city to its former glory.

When they finally reached the base, Luffy and his crew were relieved to be reunited with the rest of their crewmates. The sight of their familiar faces brought a sense of comfort and solidarity amidst the uncertainty of the situation.

With their full crew intact, they felt a renewed sense of strength and determination to aid the Mink Tribe in their fight for justice and the restoration of their city.

"So what happened with Sanji?" Luffy asked, while a Mink was softly chewing on his cheeks. Nami sighed and filled Luffy in on the events that had transpired during his absence.

She explained how Sanji had been forcibly taken away by the powerful enemy, leaving a trail of worry and uncertainty in his wake. Luffy's eyes narrowed with determination as he clenched his fists.

"We're going to find Sanji and bring him back," he declared, his resolve unwavering.

The Mink Tribe, grateful for the crew's support and eager to show their appreciation, decided to have a grand feast in honor of their new allies. As the feast progressed, the minks, their touch sensitivity enhanced by the celebratory atmosphere, became twice as touchy.

Luffy and his crew, understanding the minks' intentions and feeling a deep sense of camaraderie, welcomed the affectionate gestures with open arms, cherishing the bond they had formed with their furry friends.

However, for you, this proves to be problematic, as you tend to get easily jealous.

You excused yourself from the feast, feeling a mix of discomfort and jealousy as you watched the minks shower the crew with affection. It wasn't that you doubted their loyalty or friendship, but the sight of your crewmates being lavished with attention stirred up a sense of insecurity within you.

Luffy's eyes were on you as soon as you stood up, curiosity shining in his eyes. Luffy's attention was quickly diverted by the irresistible spread of food before him, causing him to momentarily forget about your departure.

As he eagerly dug into the feast, his focus shifted entirely to savoring the delicious dishes, leaving little room for him to notice your absence or the turmoil of emotions within you.

You wandered through the forest, the sound of rustling leaves and the gentle breeze brought a sense of tranquility to your troubled mind. The vibrant colors of the flora and the melodious chirping of birds helped to momentarily distract you from the jealous thoughts. You took deep breaths, allowing the fresh air to cleanse your mind and release the grip of jealousy that had taken hold.

You haven't felt this much jealousy in a long time, but it had suddenly started when the minks surrounded Luffy with their affection. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and all those insecurities came rushing back, clouding your thoughts and tainting your enjoyment of the feast.

Did you want Luffy's attention all to yourself? You couldn't help but wonder if you were being unreasonable in wanting Luffy's attention all to yourself. After all, he was the captain and the center of attention wherever he went.

But deep down, you longed for a moment where it was just the two of you, away from the distractions and the constant influx of new friends.

As you closed your eyes and let the gentle sounds of nature lull you into a state of calm, you couldn't help but reflect on your own emotions. Jealousy was a complex emotion, one that often stemmed from a place of insecurity and fear of losing someone's affection.

It was clear that you craved Luffy's attention, but perhaps it was time to confront these feelings and communicate your needs with him.

Was it possible that your jealousy stemmed from more than just a desire for attention? Did you have deeper feelings for Luffy that you were only now beginning to acknowledge? These were questions that lingered in your mind as you contemplated the depth of your emotions.

As you contemplated the depth of your emotions, your mind drifted back to that fateful day when you saved Luffy from a severe injury.

The memory was etched vividly in your mind - the sound of swords clashing, the adrenaline pumping through your veins, and the concerned look on Luffy's face that made your heart beat faster.

In that moment, you realized that your connection with him went beyond friendship. It was a bond forged through shared experiences and a deep understanding of each other.

"Are you okay?" Luffy asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

"I couldn't bear to lose you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

Luffy's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup your face in his hands. "You don't have to worry about losing me," he said tenderly.

But now, as you reflected on that moment, you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more between you and Luffy. Maybe, just maybe, your jealousy stemmed from a desire for a deeper connection, a longing to be more than just friends sailing the seas together.

As you contemplated the depth of your emotions, your body still aching from the last battle in the previous island, you decided to take a nap. You found solace in the peacefulness of the moment, allowing your tired muscles to relax and your mind to wander.

Your head rested against the back of a tree, its rough bark providing a comforting support. As you closed your eyes and let the gentle sounds of nature lull you into a state of calm, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you.

In this moment of tranquility, you realized that regardless of the complexities of your emotions, the most important thing was to cherish the bond you shared with Luffy and let the natural course of your relationship unfold. . . .

* . °•★|•° °•|☆•° . *⋆ ──⋅☆⋅⋆ ── * . °•★|•° °•|☆•° . *

You woke up to the sound of wild animals and immediately sat up from the tree, your heart racing. The eerie calls and rustling in the bushes outside your window made your imagination run wild.

Was it a pack of wolves? Or maybe a group of coyotes? You couldn't shake off the feeling of unease as you listened to the primal sounds echoing through the night.

As you peered into the darkness, you noticed the glint of many pairs of eyes shining back at you from the bushes.

Your mind raced with possibilities. Were they nocturnal animals, or something more sinister?

The mystery deepened as the glowing eyes seemed to multiply, surrounding your tree. Fear gripped you, and you realized that whatever lurked in the shadows, it was not a natural occurrence.

Suddenly, a group of wild animals ambushes you, trapping you in an inescapable position. Panic and confusion set in as you desperately try to find a way out. The animals' growls and snarls fill the air, intensifying your fear.

With each passing moment, the realization sinks in that you are at the mercy of these mysterious creatures, and the prospect of escape becomes increasingly unlikely. As you search for a solution, your mind races with thoughts of survival and the need to remain calm in the face of danger.

You try to muster the strength to fight back, knowing that in any other circumstance, taking on animals like them would be no problem. However, your whole body is frozen, and you can't move a muscle.

The fear and the pain had paralyzed you, leaving you defenseless against the growling predators. As you desperately search for a solution, your mind races with thoughts of survival and the need to remain calm in the face of danger, but the overwhelming panic makes it difficult to think clearly.

As the creatures draw closer, their eyes gleaming with hunger, you can only hope for a miracle or for someone to come to your rescue. The minutes tick by agonizingly slow, each second feeling like an eternity as you desperately search for a way to break free from this terrifying ordeal.

Suddenly, Luffy comes out of nowhere and stands in front of you. With his signature grin and boundless energy, he fearlessly confronts the wild animals. His mere presence seems to command respect from the creatures, as they hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to react.

Luffy springs into action, his rubbery limbs stretching and contorting as he delivers lightning-fast punches and kicks. With each strike, the sound of bone meeting flesh echoes through the night.

His powerful attacks send the creatures flying, their bodies crashing into the surrounding trees. Luffy's agility and speed make him nearly untouchable, as he effortlessly dodges their desperate lunges and retaliates with devastating force.

The sheer strength and determination in his eyes are matched only by the ferocity of his blows, as he single-handedly holds off the pack of predators. With each punch, Luffy's resolve grows stronger, his determination to protect you evident in every movement.

The wild animals, now battered and bruised, begin to retreat. The once-intimidating glint in their eyes is replaced with fear and submission. They scatter into the night, leaving you and Luffy standing victorious, the danger averted.

Luffy quickly ran towards you and asked if you were okay. "Are you hurt?" he exclaimed, concern evident in his voice.

You shook your head, still in disbelief at the incredible display of power and bravery you had just witnessed. "I'm okay, thanks to you," you managed to reply, gratitude filling your words.

Feeling weak and exhausted, you tried to get up but failed, leaning against the tree for support. Luffy's worried expression deepened as he rushed to your side, offering you a helping hand. "Take it easy, you've been through a lot this week," he said, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You nodded, feeling the weight of the exhaustion and adrenaline coursing through your veins. As you leaned slightly against him, Luffy's presence provided a sense of comfort and stability, allowing you to catch your breath and gather your strength.

"You know, you've been acting weird today," Luffy stated, taking a good look at you. Concern etched across his face, he gently asked, "Is something bothering you? You can always talk to me, you know."

You avoided eye contact with him, unsure of how to respond. The truth was, something had been bothering you, but you weren't ready to share it just yet.

The events of the night had only intensified your internal struggle, and you knew that opening up to Luffy could mean revealing a vulnerability you weren't quite ready to confront.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to express your thoughts.

"Y/N?" Luffy said, lifting your chin up to meet his gaze. "I can see that something is bothering you. Remember, we're a team, and I'm here for you no matter what."

"You wouldn't understand," you muttered, diverting your gaze.

"Try me."

"I...I get jealous every time someone touches you," you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's irrational, I know, but I can't help it." Luffy's eyes widened in surprise, but he remained attentive, waiting for you to continue.

"Jealous?" he repeated, trying to process your words.

"Yeah, like I don't want anyone else to have your attention other than me," you explained, your voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and longing. Luffy's expression softened as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I feel the same way too. Like when Sanji hangs around you for too long, I get this feeling in my stomach," Luffy said easily, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and understanding.

You couldn't help but smile at Luffy's understanding and the way he effortlessly lifted your chin to meet his gaze. It was in moments like these that you realized how deeply connected you were, even in your vulnerabilities.

"I guess it's natural to feel that way when you care about someone so deeply," you admitted, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Luffy nodded, his eyes locked with yours.

"Yeah, it just means we care for each other," he said, his voice filled with determination.

As the weight of your unspoken emotions lifted, you felt a surge of courage. With a mix of anticipation and nervousness, you slowly pulled him into a kiss, letting your lips meet in a tender and passionate embrace.

In that moment, all doubts and insecurities faded away, replaced by a sense of connection and understanding that only deepened your bond with Luffy.

It was a soft and lingering kiss, filled with warmth and tenderness. In that moment, you both felt a sense of comfort and reassurance, knowing that you could trust each other with your deepest vulnerabilities.

You pulled away from the kiss, your breath slightly shaky as you looked into Luffy's eyes. The intensity of the moment lingered in the air, and you couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of trust and love for each other.

As Luffy's hat fell off his head, he instinctively caught it just in time, but instead of putting it back on his own head, he gently placed it on yours. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about his protectiveness and the depth of his feelings for you.

"You know," Luffy said with a mischievous grin, "I think that hat looks even better on you than it does on me."

Blushing, you playfully roll your eyes and respond, "Well, I guess I'll have to wear it more often then."

"Well, I wouldn't mind seeing you wear it every day," Luffy replied, his grin widening.

Without hesitation, you leaned in again, feeling the warmth of Luffy's lips against yours. This time, the kiss was filled with a mix of passion and tenderness, as if you were both trying to convey the depth of your emotions through every touch.

The world around you faded away, and in that moment, it was just the two of you, enveloped in a kiss that spoke volumes about the love and trust you shared.

In that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of security and love. . . .

* . °•★|•° °•|☆•° . *⋆ ──⋅☆⋅⋆ ── * . °•★|•° °•|☆•° . *

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fighting-these-demons · 3 days

Text

Hello Internet Stranger looking up G Gundam on Tumblr dot com!

This is an idea for a fic set in an Alternate Universe involving Queer Non-Canon Relationships between the characters of the series.

If you are not looking for this content please scroll on.

If you ARE looking for this content - and you're ok with reading my and other's Headcanons for this Alternate Universe I've haphazardly spun up -

Then go ahead and feel free to:

Check The Tags Of This Post For The Pairings

and click the Read More below!

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Ended up outlining a completely different fic as a Segway for an explanation instead of making progress on the Royal Flush Haunted Honk AU's Clown Motel Fic like I wanted to but uh....

For y'all's review for the AU: A Prequel Outline - Divorce Saga Domon

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Hey real quick - I'm thinking of maybe changing the timeline to 2 years post canon as opposed to 3 years and change post canon.

The reason being: I had a thought that this scene could either be part if the fic or if it's getting to big then it could be a stand alone tie-in prequel fic as part of this AU but - like

Immediately Post Divorce Domon Needs Space and runs off. As one does. And he runs to Earth because he just wants to Get Lost for a while.

He has Argo smuggle him out to avoid detection.

Argo has Andrew help stow Domon in a storage hanger of a Neo Canadian supply ship that's returning to the US - they have trade often enough and share agricultural resources - which leads to Domon ending up in New York when he hits Earthside pavement.

He's privately worked on his English the last couple of months and after being dropped in New York with a different hairstyle, outfit, and accent he's unrecognizable.

He considers making his way west to get some solitude in the wilderness, but something about that initial plan feels off now that he's on the ground.

Chibodee is also Earthside for a special series of prize fights aimed at raising charitable appeal for the US in the eyes of Neo Americans.

Domon decides to hit up Chibodee for a fight on a day between matches hoping it'll clear his head and give him the clarity to decide on a course of action. What ends up happening is an unexpected heart to heart via blows and a breakdown.

Domon is happy for Rain and Kyoji, and he knows it's not true; but he feels like he lost a piece of himself when his relationship with Rain fell apart.

Domon's instinct is to run after that but Chibodee knows this city and Domon doesn't hide out for long before Chibodee drags him back to his place to stay and just "Chill out and breathe. You don't have to be anyone but yourself here. You can take as long as you need to find out what everything changing means for you." Friends and teammates stick together.

So Domon spends a few weeks with Chibodee sparring and hanging out in New York. Chibodee does a frankly awesome job at containing his feelings because he's focusing on Domons feelings and being a good friend first and foremost. Whatever he's feeling can wait until after Domon is done going though it.

There's a bit of a twinge in Domon's heart as he leaves that he can't really place.

After he returns to Neo Japan and gets settled back into life with his family, The Dreams start.

They're mainly set in New York. Small things first like noticing Chibodee's smile and his eyes. Then sparring sessions that begin to turn lurid.

He thought these kinds of dreams would stop after he was married.... he doesn't know what to do about this.

I just figure it gives more clarity and sense of time for the journey from Comphet Marriage Dissolution to Feelings to Confession. Idk.

But I got stuck on a bit and then had this thought and needed to get it down before I lost it and it was so long it made sense to make it its own post as opposed to several replies.

The Maize and Clown Motel will probably still be 3 years and change post canon for clarification.

@thedragonchilde @amplexadversary @youreaclownnow

#Domon Kasshu/Chibodee Crocket #Royal Flush #Chibodee Crocket/Domon Kasshu #Royal Flush Haunted Honk AU #mobile fighter g gundam #I imagine he hasn't had time for a Big Gay Crisis yet but the time is absolutely now #Kyoji absolutely helps him through this crisis because he had a normal environment and university to figure his own shit out.#Kyoji has to figure out WHY Domon is imploding and explosive and avoiding everyone a second time though.#This doesn't seem related to the Divorce but it doesn't seem immediately obvious either. 🤔#Cue Schwarz FINALLY getting a fucking break and immediately coming to stay with Rain and Kyoji at their place.#Domon was aware that they had been living together in Neo Japan briefly before Schwarz was called back to Neo Germany for questioning #Once his rank was stripped of him he was back with Kyoji for a short period before the Divorce as part of Kyoji and Dr. Kasshu's study of #DG Cells. Once they had a breakthrough - Schwarz was sent abroad with a small military group and Doctors Without Borders group to assist #With immediate infection cases on behalf of Neo Japan as part of reparations. So Domon hadn't seen him in quite some time.#Domon certainly wasn't expecting to see him in the garden when he rounded the corner of the Mikamura residence #Leaned over Kyoji who appears to have been working outside on his laptop. Fingers intertwined a hand on Kyojis jaw and locked in a kiss.#Which ends pretty much instantly as they sense Domon and break apart. It occurs to Kyoji and Schwarz that Kyoji never #Got the chance to actually tell Domon much about himself and the man he'd grown into while Domon was training in Hong Kong with Master Asia #This might be a pretty significant shock to him.#I can't decide between Domon running from his Gay Revelation or IMMEDIATELY Losing His Shit at the thought of Rain's SECOND marriage ending #And knowing for sure now the reason why his and Rain's marriage didn't work out. He really does prefer men.#Bu HOW DARE Kyoji do this to her!!! She's been through enough!!!! This will HURT her SO BADLY!!! (Projection of guiiillllttt)#Back to square 1 fir a moment like damn #And once he starts fighting Kyoji about it (Thank God the ressurection gave them the option to make Kyojis new build similar to Schwarz's)#It comes out that Rain cant go through this AGAIN and he won't let him do this to her! Her honor means something to Domon #And it should mean something to Kyoji too as HER HUSBAND #Kyoji and Schwarz catch on the Again bit and Kyoji makes it clear that Rain has known about his situation with Schwarz since they returned #That they're quite literally inseparable and that Rain married him knowing this. She's fully aware and an active participant.#Domon takes a leg sweep and doesn't quite make his recovery as Schwarz steps in #Pinning his arms and one leg in place so he can't run from Kyojis question. Kyoji grabs Domon's hair to turn his head and asks

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zivazivc · 3 days

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Did Les ever dated in the past? Also is he with anyone recently?

Les quit school really early, like 10-years-old early, and he started working soon after, so he didn't really have friends his age. That kinda puts a buffer on a teenager's social and love life. Though there was something that happened at a house party once, that was, uh... a bad experience, and it left him with a lot of issues. Also, partially because of this, he's not really someone who acts on his crushes. So he never dated before.

But at one point the band spent a few months in the same location (dunno the reason yet, but maybe they weren't getting enough gigs and they had to take up some part time jobs for a while), and Les developed a crush on a bartender at a nearby club.

She's the only OC of mine who's visually a bigger weirdo than Les, and he definitely saw a little bit of himself in her, and hoping for someone with some shared life experience, it's what initially attracted him toward her and vice versa.

So they had a thing going on for a short time. It never developed into anything serious because sadly they are very alike, which means they are BOTH morons who are shy about making the first move. And after a while they came to the agreement that they were better as just friends.

Floyd with his persistent crush was not happy about the possible romance at first, but he ended up being happy for Les, and he finally decided to give his hopeless longing a rest, since the only good it was doing was growing a rift between his and Les's friendship.

Funny enough it was Floyd backing down which allowed the two to grow closer. Les lowered his guard since he no longer had to overthink if Floyd would interpret anything he did or said as some kind of flirting or act of love, and he no longer had to brace himself for any uncomfortable romancing coming from Floyd either.

They were already good friends since the start but they became much more casual with each other and began to understand each other on a deeper level as years passed. As Floyd got older and more mature, and became an equal with the rest of the bandmates, it was actually Les who fell for him, hard. He didn't really do anything about it though, but Floyd eventually realized this and you know he did something about it. Though Floyd's crush had gone from looking at Les as this cool experienced older guy when he was younger to now seeing him as a shy innocent teddy bear compared to his lewd self ksjhdkjs.

So technically they became each other's first proper all-encompassing relationship. And by that I mean that besides the lovey-dovey obvious stuff, they were also best friends and helped each other grow a lot. Also Floyd by the time they got together, already started a habit of hooking up with strangers at parties, so being with Les forced him to slow down and progress through a relationship slowly and at a healthy pace for someone his age (since you can't really get anywhere with Les without a lot of patience). And Floyd got Les to become comfortable with opening up and talking about his deep-rooted feelings. They talked about issues they faced, many of which were related to Les's childhood trauma, instead of him just ignoring or suppressing it all. (Floyd also opened up about his own family trauma with Les obviously, but he talked about it even before they got together.)

The relationship, especially at the start, could still be considered questionable from an outsider's perspective, but so was the band's lifestyle in general. They were good for each other during that period while they were growing up and figuring themselves and each other out, which is what matters I think.

It was honestly mainly Floyd's undiagnosed bipolar disorder that made the relationship suffer toward the end of Floyd's days in the band. It created a lot of trust issues between Floyd and Les, and also Floyd and everyone else, heck it even made Floyd distrust himself, since he and none else knew or understood what was happening with him. This led to a lot of misery and anger that he mostly ended up directing at Les, and it was what eventually made them break up and Floyd leave.

#god damn it floyd's bpd at it again. what do i do with it. maybe i really should send him to therapy... 🤔#I know this answer is late but when I received the ask I was still developing the oc. whose name is Brook btw. i guess i forgot to say that #she is a sweetiepie and yes you will see more of her if you want #trolls #dreamworks trolls #ex bandmates #trolls floyd #trolls oc #les #brook #my art #answered #floyd in the first pic is feeling threatened lmao. bby you have no chance with him at this point go start your hoe career first #long post

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safination · 3 days

Text

Partners in Death...and Life.

Part 7: Me and You In Eternity

|Part 6: Radio's Last Broadcast||Part 8: Coming Soon!| |Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Pairings: Alastor x Wife!Reader Series Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, Asexual! Alastor, Alastor is in hell for a reason, Reader is in hell for a reason, dishes, being a simp for your partner, Asexual! Alastor, husband! Alastor. My classes started already. That's why it took a while to pop this out. Have fun with this. I'm pleased to announce that there will be two chapters left. So a part 8 and 9. (Hopefully). It will finally cover the last episode of the season

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Four Weeks Before The Extermination

Someone swipes a thumb over your cheek. The strokes are hesitant, but filled with a gentle purpose.

Your eyes flutter open. It’s all blurry.

There’s a figure standing above you. Some small part of your soul wants to give in. It wants to believe it’s Alastor who stares down at you, capturing your gaze with the reddest of eyes. That it’s him who caresses your face with a softness that has you leaning into his touch. How cruel of your mind to play a trick on the flickers of your soul—the very same soul that continues to yearn for the missing.

What a cruel, yet old trick. It can’t fool you, not anymore.

You reach out for Alastor, poking your fingers on the edges of his lips to force a smile. This Alastor shows you the widest smile as he takes his thumb and runs it over your eyelids.

It’s wet.

Another lonely tear threatens to fall out. He brushes it away before it could get too far. The warmth of his thumb transfers to your skin.

You scramble backwards, distancing yourself. The questions thread through your mind. It distracts you, pulling your focus on the important facts. Here’s a fact: The bed doesn’t span as wide as you think it does. The edge looms closer. Still, you persevere with the quest to stumble backwards, far away from Alastor and the tears he’s been wiping away.

The chance to fall never arrives.

Alastor slithers out of the shadows, catching you in his arms with ease. “Hi.”

The back of your fingers trails down the skin of his cheek. It’s very real and very solid. There’s nothing else to say except, “Hi.”

“Terrible shift at work?” Alastor asks you with a smile the displays the yellow staining his teeth. “You weren’t in such a state when I left yesterday.”

You don’t know how to respond to him.

Alastor carries you to the vanity table, moving his thumb up and down the bare skin of your knees. It’s the smallest of acts. Sometimes, you wonder if he’s aware of such an action. The topic never gets mentioned in feat he would stop.

Alastor waves his hands, opening them wide to drop you with an annoying flare. There’s an audible ‘thump’ when your ass connects to the cushioned but hardwood chair. It earns Alastor a glare, which he immediately responds to with that smug and self-satisfied smile of his.

It seems there’s a stray feather clinging on your scalp. It’s made aware to you when Alastor picks it out for you.

His eyes turn to the radio playing on the vanity table. It’s kept playing during the night. “Are you just playing static on this one?” Alastor asks, twisting the knob to switch it off. “It isn’t tuned to any registered stations.”

The hand smoothening your feathers isn’t a cruel trick. It’s as solid and as real as it should be.

“Playing static for extended periods of time will damage the speakers,” he says, lips twisting. Alastor and his radios—always so particular, even in death. “What do you have to say for yourself? I’m worried about how you’ve been caring for all our other radios.”

“I play the static as a white noise,” you say, and it’s the only thing your pride allows you to comment on the topic. “It helps me sleep.”

Alastor takes the brush next to the radio. The soft bristles run through your scalp. He untangles the twisted feathers, smoothening the ones that poke out. Alastor’s much gentler on your feather than you ever would be. It’s quite the sight to see how careful the Radio Demon is not to tug on his wife’s scalp.

Alastor runs the feather between his fingers, untangling the harsher knots.

“When did you…,” you start and trail off when you notice how hoarse you sound. Does Alastor notice it as well? “When did you get home? I didn’t hear you come in.”

Alastor catches your gaze from the reflection of the mirror. “I used my keys,” he says. “You said not to knock. It’s quite nice to know you haven’t changed our locks.”

There’s a small box on the vanity table. The paint on the wood faded decades ago, only leaving streaks of dull colors. You grab it, twirling it around your fingers. “What brings you by?”

“Was it not you who told me it’s not a visit when it’s your own home?” Alastor wags his fingers, shaking his head with such vigor it’s almost mocking. It probably is meant to be mocking.

The box goes back on the table.

Alastor allows you to intertwine your fingers on his free hand. This definitely isn’t some trick.

“Good morning, my deer,” you say, pressing your face into his very real hand. “I’m happy to see you, more than you know, but I have this feeling you aren’t here to tell me all about how you’re going to be living with me again.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he says, studying your face. There’s nothing much to pick apart when only a simple smile paints your face. “I’m here to take you to the hotel with me. It would be convenient to do all the preparations there.”

You shake your head, trying to release your hold on his hand.

Alastor refuses to release his hold on you, even as you give it a slight tug. It forces you to intertwine your fingers once more.

“I have work.”

Alastor drops the brush rather than releasing his hold on you.

He snaps his fingers, and a piece of paper pops into his hand. “How convenient then that I happen to have a signed and official letter from the Princess of Hell granting you one month off from work,” he says. “I’ve taken the liberties of sending a copy to Management.”

Alastor takes a step back when you reach for the letter. He doesn’t get far, considering how tightly your hands are linked together.

He inches his face closer, the paper still far away from your grasps. “Are you not forgetting something?”

You press a kiss on the edge of his lips, letting it linger longer than it should, and grab the paper from Alastor when his ears perk up.

It’s a proper and formal letter. It’s free from any squiggles or smiley faces. There’s only one type of ink instead of a barrage of crayons and markers. You read through the lines of paragraphs then study Charlie’s signature.

Alastor grabs the brush to continue his work. “I was referring to a ‘thank you, deerest’ or a ‘How absolutely wonderful of you. You’re such an amazing husband, my deer’ as basic manners dictate, but I guess a kiss shall do.”

You roll your eyes, but press another kiss on his cheek.

It’s easy to push off Alastor’s hand from your scalp. It’s even easier to jump back into bed, and tug the blanket over your head. Doing so undoes all of Alastor’s careful brushing. There are wet patches staining your pillow. It’s something you ignore immediately in favor of pretending its existence isn’t real.

“Come on, now.” The bed dips from Alastor’s weight. “We have a full morning ahead of us! There’s breakfast, then the matter of packing presentable clothes, and getting you settled.”

Presentable clothes? All your clothes are presentable! They’re more than presentable! It’s him who wears the tacky bow ties and striped coats. Alastor saw how red his eyes and hair became and decided to lean into the whole thing.

“We can nap as much as you want once you’ve gotten your things sorted.”

“I’m going to sleep in,” you say, ignoring the wobble in your voice. Every single fiber you own wants Alastor to ignore it as well. “Go away. I’ll just meet you at the hotel on my own time. I’m sure there’s work for you to keep you busy there.”

A single tear drips to the pillow. He shouldn’t be here, not when control threatens to slip from your grasps. Alastor isn’t allowed to see the cracks. You shouldn’t let him see them, not when he wouldn’t like it.

“Look at me,” he says, tugging on the blanket. “My love, come on, look at me. There’s no point in being stubborn.”

You shake your head, bringing out your arm to show him how beautiful your middle finger is.

It’s easy to see his annoyance, even from underneath the blanket. Alastor’s lips will close into a strained smile. This one will replace his usual unsettling smile. His eyes will squint and twitch as he furrows his brows with controlled tolerance. And there it is, right on cue—the faint static.

Alastor rips the blanket off you.

There’s a neutral expression forced onto your face, even as your eyes remain shut. It’s a simple act to pretend there isn’t a lonely tear leaving your eyes. Maybe if you ignore the tear trailing down your skin, Alastor won’t see it drip to the pillow.

He brushes the next one away, and secures the blanket around your shoulders. It’s such a simple detail that can be ignored, but Alastor adjusts the blanket, tugging on the ends to cover everything…except your face.

There’s nowhere to hide anymore. It doesn’t stop you from keeping your eyes snapped shut, and ignoring the single tear sliding down your cheek with a blank expression. You’re not supposed to show him the cracks. What are you doing?

“Look at me?” Alastor asks you, running his thumb over your eyelids.

These eyes of yours heed to him. Denying Alastor is an ability that you do not possess. Not in life, and surely, not in death.

Alastor holds your face with both his hands, still intent on wiping away the wet streaking your cheek. “We can stay here for a minute,” he says. “Don’t turn me away.”

It’s as much of a command as it is a plea.

“Will it cost me?” you ask him, leaning into the warmth of his hold. “I think I have a spare soul lying around.”

He brushes a stray feather away from your face. “Just a smile will suffice.”

“Only a minute?”

“We can stay here for a lifetime if you wish.” The bed dips further when he inches closer to press a kiss on your forehead. “Smile for me.”

You show Alastor a smile that could rival the very stars themselves.

The coat slides off his shoulders, and he tosses the thing over the back of a chair. Alastor peels the blanket off your shoulder to slot himself underneath, pressing himself oh so close to you.

There’s no need to question the tears, not when you’ve had decades to ponder on the answer. It’s an event that’s been inscribed to the story of you and him, and its existence demands your very soul to mourn.

What is grief if not the time that never was—the time that was never allowed to be?

All the time spent washing the dishes alone. All the time spent cooking a meal for one. All the time spent sleeping in a bed made for two, but houses one. It’s that very same unspent time that gathers up in the corner of your eyes, and trails down your cheek only for Alastor to wipe it away.

Alastor intertwines his fingers with yours, thumbing your ring finger. “Did you lose your wedding ring?” he asks. “Ha! I always knew you would be the first one to do so.”

“It’s on the nightstand,” you say, giving him a kick. Alastor uses this opportunity to hook your legs, trapping it to tangle them with his own.

He releases his hold on your hand to slip the cool metal around your finger. The ring slots back to where it belongs. Alastor traces it, feeling how the ring fits into your fingers.

Alastor pulls on your shoulder, hoisting you until your head lays directly on top of his chest. Every breath he takes raises your head up and down. Up and down and up and down and up and down—as it should be.

You ball your fist and smack his chest lightly. “Alastor.”

“Yes?”

“Alastor.” You smack his chest once more. Still, it goes up and down and up and down and up and down.

“What is it, my dear?” he asks you in a voice that is oh so soft and very, very, alive.

“Alastor…,” you call out to him, letting his name leave your lips like a prayer. “Alastor.”

“Yes?” His thumb brushes over a tear that refuses to be hidden.

Alastor smiles at you, his yellow teeth displayed as he stares into you. It’s no longer brown, but red. That’s not important. The color will never be important. His eyes are here and they’re looking at you. Nothing’s changed—nothing important at least. To you, these red eyes still shine brighter than starlight.

“You keep answering me.” You squeeze his hand.

Alastor squeezes back. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Alastor.”

“Yes?”

“Will you keep answering me?”

He takes a moment to think, letting the silence ring as he draws out his answer. “It’s quite compelling to stop,” he says. “I can practically see it. Your brows will furrow, and these lips of your will twist in a laughable attempt to conceal a frown. It would ruffle all your feathers right off your scalp!”

“Alastor?” you ask.

“Yes,” he answers.

There’s work to be done. It forces you to have to pull yourself away from the lifetime that should have been, and start the day. Alastor has to re-brush the tangled feathers. If he has any complaints, he doesn’t voice them. It takes a few minutes more to pick up the feathers that fell to the floor, and throw them in the trash.

He takes your hand, and brings you to the kitchen.

Breakfast is whatever’s left inside the refrigerator. Alastor, somehow, manages to create a proper and relatively healthy meal for you to consume. The first bite of scrambled eggs brings a smile. It’s the same eggs you’ve used for yourself, but somehow, this one is the best eggs you have ever tasted.

It’s been years since you’ve had a proper meal on this dinged up table. The turmeric stains have faded into a small yellow. The cracks on the table have rounded with dullness. Most meals were eaten at work or in front of the television.

“How was your day?”

Alastor leans on the palm of his hand, watching you eat. “That’s a question reserved for dinner.”

“It’s a question from when I wasn’t able to witness the happening of your day,” you say. “Will you not be next to me from now on? What’s there to ask when I will be there to see how the rest of your day will go?”

“There isn’t much to say,” Alastor says, tracing the dents on the table. “I awoke quite early, got dressed, dropped by your workplace, and then went straight to our home.”

There’s a smug smile on your lips. It’s not something you’re keen on hiding. “Were you that excited to bring me to the hotel?”

“Eat your eggs.”

You take a bite off your meal, doing as he says. It’s seasoned perfectly. When you cook, its either too salty or tasteless. You never did get around to figuring out the perfect amount, but it seems Alastor was able to solve the mystery of how much salt to add. “I’m not hearing a ‘no’.”

“Eat your eggs.”

You take another bite, and point the fork at him. “I’m still not hear—”

“And you never shall,” Alastor says, grabbing the fork to push another mouthful of eggs into your mouth. “So, just eat your eggs.”

He keeps the fork with him the whole meal, shoving food into your mouth to prevent further questioning.

Inside the sink, an assortment of bowls and tiny plates and pans are neatly arranged. There are ten dishes neatly piled, minus the pot and the pan (of course). It’s twelve with the pot and pan. All this for a simple plate of scrambled eggs.

Alastor presents his work to you with a wave of his hands and a proud smile.

This has you barking out a laugh.

Your eyes shut once more, because despite the laughter, it seems this tear is determined to fall. “How absolutely dumb of me. I don’t know what’s gotten over me this morning,” you tell him, even if you do know. “I guess work was a bit much yesterday.”

“There’s nothing stupid about you,” he says, wiping the next tear. “I’ll go wash this mess.”

“So, you do admit it!” you say, sticking your tongue out. “Are you finally going to admit that you made a mess?”

“I never have and I never will. Go to the living-room,” he says, and his ears flicker with the smallest of movements. It would be an easy miss had you been any other Sinner. “…I’ll handle this for you.”

You show Alastor the brightest smile when you press your lips on his cheek. “I think you’re mistaken, my deer. I’m incredibly happy right now,” you say. “Can we finish the dishes together?”

Alastor’s shadow pokes your leg thrice.

It looks at you with a jagged smile, fiddling with its shadow fingers. The shadow waves you at you in a way that has you waving back. It points to its cheek and looks at you with as much expectancy as a shadow could produce.

“Oh dear,” you say, smiling at the shadow. “I keep forgetting about you. Would you forgive me if I made it up to you?”

The shadow crosses its arm, pointing its nose to the air with a frown.

It’s an easy thing to position your shadow. Just a step back and careful angling makes the shadow of your lips cross past its cheek and presses a kiss on its own shadowy lips. Look at you now—feather on your scalp, four fingers on your hand, and smooching the shadow of your husband.

“Have I earned your forgiveness?” you ask. “Or shall it take another?”

The shadow offers a thumbs up, its shadowy smile somehow becoming even wider.

Alastor summons his microphone with a distracting type of flare, and strikes the edge on his own shadow. The poor thing scampers back into him with lowered ears.

You raise your eyebrows at Alastor.

Alastor leans forward on his microphone, using it as a cane, and shows you’re his most innocent smile.

You press another kiss on the edge of his mouth. What an absolutely silly man to be married to.

Alastor grabs your hand, and all twelve dishes are cleaned with only one usable hand. It takes longer than it should. The inefficiency of having one functional hand slows the whole process.

The dishes get done. Even if the bowls and plates have to be held out and supported for Alastor to sponge, the dishes get done. No matter how long it will take, the dishes will be completed together.

The coffee mugs warm your hand.

There it is again, the ever present, ‘Two’. One for you and one for him. You and him. Him and you. It seems there won’t be any wasted coffee beans today.

Alastor’s outside, seated on the steps of the porch. The legs on this body are far longer than his old ones. It forces him to stretch them out to sit comfortably on the steps. There’s a smile directed at you when Alastor receives his coffee mug. And if Alastor was a silly man, then you are a silly, silly woman. Even after decades, it makes you giggle like a bumbling school-girl.

You take the seat next to him, staring at the reddened morning sky. “My, most, deer,” you say, calling out for him. “Do you miss the sun or the moon or the stars?”

“It’s not something I think about.”

“Ask me if I miss it,” you say, bumping your shoulders with his and showing off your most innocent smile.

Alastor rolls his eyes. “Do you miss the sun or the moon or the stars?”

The coffee mug gets discarded to the steps in favor of grabbing his face with your hands. The pads of your thumb go up and down the skin of his cheeks. “I don’t, actually,” you say with a smile that could rival the sun. “I have all of it right here in the palm of my hands.”

The laughter from his microphone mixes with his own laughter. Even his shadow chuckles at your words. “You are the most ridiculous person to be able to sit next to,” he tells you. “Did you ask me just to be able to say all that?”

“I did, actually.”

“And how long have you been waiting to say that?”

“Hmmm,” you say, taking one long sip of coffee to delay your answer. “Five or six years, give or take.”

Alastor’s original voice bleeds into his words. “Years?” he says, wheezing as his eyes bulge out in different directions. “You’ve been waiting to say that for years?

You lean your head on the palm of your hand, watching Alastor take a sip of his coffee to calm himself. When was the last time you had a morning as lively as this one? “Well, it was only ever meant for you to hear.”

Alastor flicks your nose. “No flirting before coffee’s been finished,” he says. “You should already know this.”

“Then hurry up,” you start, rubbing your nose, “and finish it then.”

He takes a small but long sip.

It makes you think he’ll drag out finishing his coffee, but Alastor throws the rest of his obviously, very full, coffee behind his shoulder. The drink splatters to the plants. He smiles at you like there isn’t coffee dripping down the leaves and into the soil.

“Look who’s being ridiculous now,” you say. “My coffee isn’t finished yet. So, I guess you’re going to have to sit there and wait.”

You take small and drawn-out sips, showing off just… how…slow…you…will take to finish.

“Horrible dream earlier?” Alastor asks you with a smile that shows off all his teeth, staring at how he fiddles with the handles of his mug.

“Not one bit!” you exclaim, taking a gulp of coffee. “It was a good one.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” he says, bumping your knees with his. “What wonderful things did your mind dream about?”

“Well, this is a dream I’ve decided to keep to myself,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Although, I think it’s one of the best ones I’ve had in a very long time.”

Alastor brushes his thumb over your eyelids, even if the tears stopped slipping. “Then why?”

“Because,” you begin, leaning into how gently he caresses you, “the dream ended too soon.”

Alastor snatches the mug around your fingers, throwing the content behind his shoulders. The coffee splashes to the plants. “It seems you’ve finished your coffee.”

“That’s wasting!”

“I’ll brew you another cup at the hotel,” he says, smiling at you. “But as of now, you’ve officially finished your coffee.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips. “Can I be greedy?”

Alastor picks a feather out of your head. “As little or as much as you want,” he tells you. “Anything you could ever want and anything you could ever wish for—it will be yours.”

“You promised me a kiss when you came home,” you say. “I think I’d like to cash that in now.”

Alastor studies your face, holding you in the palms of his hands. “And when did I do such a silly thing?”

You place your hand on top of his own, nuzzling deeper into his hold. Home has never felt more like home until this very minute. “I guess it must have been something I dreamed up,” you say. “Are you still willing to fulfill your promise?”

Alastor presses a kiss on the crown on your feathers. “I was in this dream of yours?”

“You always are, especially when you have this special talent of finding my last nerve and tap dancing all over it,” you say with a snort. “So, are you going to fulfill your promise? A proper kiss this time, please.”

“A doting husband always does so.”

“I never said that.”

“You did.”

The wind blows as you sit on the steps. It pushes feathers to your face. Alastor tucks them away, letting the loose strands flow through his fingers. He holds your face, and you would like to believe that his fingers were carved to perfectly fit along the outline. It could also be the other way around.

Even in this lifetime, his lips are chapped. The cracks poke you when Alastor hover above, brushing his mouth ever so slightly on the skin of your cheek.

You pull on his monocle, discarding the thing to the plants. It gets in the way of how deep you press yourself into his skin. Soft exhales mix together. Alastor’s nose pokes you as he brushes his face across the outline of your face.

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, allowing his lips to linger for what seems like a lifetime.

The next kiss lands on your other cheek.

Alastor torments you, demanding so much space in your soul that it’s become filled with him and only him. In life. In death. In the in betweens and the afters.

A kiss to the forehead.

A kiss on the edges of your lips.

Alastor runs his thumb over the soft skin of your mouth, and your eyes flutter to a close when he finally connects your lips. The pads of his thumb go up and down into a gentle caress as he presses kiss after kiss. Your arm snakes around his back, drawing spirals on his back as you pull him into a hug.

The kisses he blesses you with are slow. It’s like he savors each and every one. Alastor kisses you like there’s no place he would rather be than using the language of your rings to write you a poem.

It’s you who pulls away first. You’re being greedy, demanding too much affection from him.

You smile at him.

Alastor smiles back at you, and leans back into a kiss, pulling you closer by the neck.

There have been lifetimes of tomorrows and there will still be many more tomorrows to experience.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Two Weeks Before The Extermination.

There’s no television in this room. The lack of modern technology in Alastor’s room isn’t even the problem…you just…really miss that television.

Sure, soap operas are trash. So, what? Who cares if it doesn’t make sense that Mara and Clara are sisters? Or how a perfectly normal couple can suddenly birth a blue child that’s able to heal people with tears? Like yes, that’s not how holy water works. It’s the dumbest thing ever, but entertaining trash is still entertaining.

Alastor refuses to breathe the same air as a television, going as far as to avoid them even with you present in the room. No amount of begging or pouting convinced him to watch a single episode. You could just watch it alone, but that would mean you would be…alone.

The low dim of the fireplace and the soft music playing on the radio join to create this cozy morning atmosphere. The warm coffee around your fingers and the soft cushion of the armchair tit the whole scene together.

Something hoots from Alastor’s bayou.

That’s totally not creepy—not one bit. It does not bring a chill up your spine, and there’s totally no reason to dig yourself deeper into this plush cushion. You refused to step one foot into his bayou, preferring to stay in the part of the room that actually resembles a room. Not even the tempting offer of a picnic has you agreeing to go past the wooden floor. If Alastor refuses to watch television shows with you, then you won’t bring a single feather into his bayou.

Alastor smiles at you from the armchair across, drinking coffee like there aren’t trees and unknown animals spilling into his room.

A hesitant knock sounds from the door.

“Can I come in?” Char’s muffled voice calls from beyond the wood. “Wait, are you guys away? Oh gosh. Should I just come back later?”

You glance at the clock, checking the time then slide your eyes to Alastor. “If we stay silent, do you think Charlie will assume we’re sleeping?”

“That would be rude, my dear.”

Alastor stands from his chair, placing the coffee mug on the little table. There’s a smile on his face as he smoothens the lines of his dress pants. He walks towards the door, taking long strides. It’s as if he’s showing off just how determined he is to open the thing.

With a twist of the doorknob, Charlie comes into view.

She stills by the entrance, and gives Alastor a small wave. There’s a bright but hesitant smile on her lips. Charlie fiddles with her fingers, staring at Alastor as he blocks the opened door with his body. It keeps her from fully entering.

An awkward type of silence rises to the air.

“Al, stop messing with the poor girl, and bring her in,” you say after five painful minutes of awkward silence. It takes three long sips of coffee to kill the laughter that threatens to escape. “Good morning, Charlie.”

Alastor grabs Charlie by the shoulders, and her heels scrape the wood as she’s dragged deeper into the room. There’s this hilarious frown on Charlie’s lips. Basic manners demand you stifle all laughter. It’s simply not right to laugh at the owner of the establishment currently housing you.

Alastor offers Charlie the free arm chair. “Care to take a seat?”

“Sure…thanks,” she says, blinking, It takes her a moment to settle on the cushion. “Sooooo, how are you liking your stay here? If there’s anything bothering you, just mention it to me. I’ll be happy to try and work out a solution.”

“There’s no need to do such a thing. You’ve been so accommodating towards me,” you tell her, brushing a stray feather away. “I appreciate how silent it is here. Loud noises tend to strain my ears.”

“I’ll be sure to keep any noise down,” Charlie says. “But I’m glad to see you seem to be enjoying yourself. I really appreciate how you join our activities as well!”

“It’s the least I can do.”

Alastor decides to sit his ass on your chair. He buries himself next to you, squeezing into a chair meant for one. You bump his legs, shoving him away to gain more personal space. It’s taken as an invitation, instead. Alastor presses even closer and takes up more space.

You bump his legs once more.

Again, Alastor squeezes closer.

There’s a strained smile on your lips when you turn back to Charlie. “I’ll tell you my secret as to why I’m enjoying myself,” you say, shoving him further away. “Any place tends to be nice when I wake up to Alastor’s snoring.”

He glares at you. “I do not snore.”

You cover your mouth as if whispering to Charlie. “He does,” you say with a lowered voice just to be infuriating. “It’s the faintest of static. It just comes out of him.”

“Whatever can we do for you?” Alastor tells Charlie, smiling as he places a hand on your shoulder. “My wife will be happy to fulfill each and every one of your requests! She’s quite handy with a sponge. Although, keep your bowls away.”

You dig your elbow into his side.

Alastor elbows you back.

“I’m actually here for the both of you. “There’s this questions that couples ask each other, and it’s supposed to deepen their relationship.” Charlie twiddles her thumbs. “I want to try them with Vaggie. Can I go through the questions with you guys first? Tell me if there are any stupid questions.”

Alastor’s smile widens to show off his teeth. “There are some bulk items we need—”

“Nonsense! I will be happy to fulfill each and every one of your requests, apparently,” you say, placing a hand on Alastor’s shoulder. “And my husband would agree to anything that makes me happy. We would love to help you.”

Alastor elbows your side.

You return just as much as he gives. Maybe a little more.

There’s an adorable type of shine in Charlie’s eyes. Thank you…so much,” she says. “I’m so glad you guys are here. We are going to have so much fun!

Alastor’s coffee awaits to be finished. It’s still discarded on the table between the arm chairs. You reach for it and return his mug to him with a smile. There have been so many wasted cups of coffee-several years’ worth of coffee down the drain. There’s no need to waste anymore—not where Alastor smiles back at you.

“I think it’s endearing how you want to do this with Vaggie,” you say. “You should have seen how furious I was with Alastor—”

“When I lied” Alastor finishes for you. “Are we ever going to move past that? It’s been decades.”

“Never.”

Charlie tilts her head, furrowing her eyebrows. “Wait…,” she says, slowly. “You know Vaggie was an exorcist. How? You weren’t there when we announced it.”

Your eyes flicker to Alastor for the briefest of moments.

Alastor makes it a point no to look your way.

“You told her?” Charlie exclaims, gaping at him. “I mean…I’m not mad or anything. Vaggie thought it would be better to tell you afterwards or if you decided to stay permanently. We just didn’t want to scare you away.”

“I thought it was common knowledge already…?”

Alastor rolls his eyes, and the base of his ears flicker down with annoyance. “Dearest, when has anything I told you over morning coffee ever been ‘common knowledge’?”

“Well, I’ll tell you this ....It was common knowledge to everyone when Ally from neuro cheated on her girlfriend.”

“Do tell!” Alastor takes a sip of coffee. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”

“The room they were in? It happened to be one that had an intercom that connected to the whole building,” you say, laughing. “Every little sound was broadcasted to every floor!”

Charlie’s eyes bulge a little, and she leans ever so closer.

Alastor reaches over you, grabbing the coffee pot. A snap of his fingers, and a whole new coffee mug appears in his hand. There’s a filled mug being handed to Charlie. She takes it without thinking, leaning on the edge of her seat.

“That isn’t even the worst part,” you say, fiddling with the handle of the mug. “The person Ally was with? The father.”

“The father?” Charlie echoes with disbelief. “That’s horrible!”

“Oh, my dear, it was. Believe me…it was,” you say. “What a horrible day to have ears.”

“So how did the girlfriend react?”

You press your shoulder closer to Alastor, slightly leaning your weight on him. “The girlfriend works as an accountant for the hospital and heared the whole thing. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time her father’s done suc—”

“Shall we head to the questions?” Alastor grabs the coffee pot, taking it upon himself to refill all the mugs. “There are actually some deliveries that need to be arranged.”

Charlie blinks and leans back into the cushions of the arm chair. “Right…Yes, of course.” She brings out her phone, swiping down the screen. “I guess we should just jump right in?”

“Go ahead.”

“Okay…The first question asks you what your most treasured possession could be.”

There’s a box on top of Alastor’s fireplace. It’s hidden in plain sight, blending with all the other stray items he likes to keep as decorations. The painted designs faded years ago. It should have been left at home, but you found yourself pocketing the box to take with you.

“It’s just this old box,” you say, studying the rim of the mug. “It’s quite expensive. It took at least forty-years to save up for it.”

“Oh, what’s inside?”

“That wasn’t the question.” You take a sip of coffee, letting the liquid slosh down your esophagus. “I believe it’s your turn now, deerest.”

Alastor loves his personal space. It’s something he makes perfectly clear. However, it seems he also loves your personal space. He places an arm around your shoulders, shaking your like a rattle “Why, it’s right here” he exclaims. “I couldn’t have asked for a better dishwasher despite the magnitude of broken bowls. It’s quite the attractive model.”

“Stop it.” You swat his hand when the coffee around your fingers threaten to spill. “Go finish your coffee.”

Alastor slides his eyes to Charlier, watching her reactions as he inches further into your personal space. “Should I change that rule?”

“It’s his microphone.” You push his face away, rolling your eyes at him. “He never goes anywhere without it, and hardly allows anyone to touch it.”

“I allow you to hold it all the time.”

The way you sip your coffee hides your smile. “I’m not just anyone, now, am I?”

Charlie groans in her palms, pushing strands of her hair behind her face. It’s funny to see how her lips twist into the adorable sort of frown.

“Oh, stop it.” Alastor flicks your nose. “Finish your coffee.”

The armchair squeezes the both of you into this small space. It’s much more comfortable to just press together. You lean closer into his personal space, allowing yours to mix with his, and wrap your arms around Alastor’s neck. The strands of his hair brush against your skin.

“Charlie…,” you begin, inching closer, “be a good girl and close your eyes.”

There’s a loud groan escaping her mouth. She sulks into the chair as if she was being deflated. “Seriously?”

“Go on,” Alastor says, urging her with a smile. He leans ever so slightly into you.

Charlie closes her eyes.

There’s a stray strand that slides down Alastor’s hair. You brush it away, letting the strands flow through your fingers. There’s a smile on your face when you press a kiss on the edge of his mouth. It lingers longer than it should.

The tips of Alastor’s ears flicker, and you snatch his mug. It gets tossed into the fireplace

Alastor grabs your chin with the tips of his fingers, and steals a kiss.

“Can I continue now, or should I just leave?” Charlie snorts, eyes firmly shut. “I swear, Mom and Dad were exactly like this—it’s kind of cute.”

Alastor presses one last kiss on your cheek. “Let’s continue!”

The mug around your fingers gets snatched. Alastor takes a sip of coffee. It seems this is a shared coffee mug now. “You can open your eyes now.”

Charlie stares at the both of you, taking one good look and sighs. The phone’s pulled out again as she reads the next question. “Is there a personality trait or skill that the other possesses that you wish you had.”

“I do wish I could be as proficient with words as you are.” You take the shared coffee mug from Alastor and take a mouthful. “The most horrible things come out of your mouth in such a poetic way.”

“That’s too sweet.”

“And quite the ridiculous question,” Alastor says, rolling his eyes. “If there’s a trait or skill I want, then I simply acquire them or someone who can. There’s no use wondering about such things”

You snort at him. “Well, humility certainly isn’t a trait you would wish to possess.”

“Charlie, close your eyes.” Alastor inches closer, pressing his weight into you. There isn’t enough space in the arm chair to lean away.

There’s that hilarious frown on Charlie’s lips again, but she does as she’s told. “Again? Will you be doing this every time?”

Alastor leans away, and drinks a mouthful of coffee. A delighted hum escapes him as he savors the taste.

It’s quite peaceful. There’s this type of silence that takes over. One meant to be enjoyed during the early mornings. The crackle of the fireplace and the soft tunes of the radio blend into the background of the scene. You chuckle at Alastor and drink from the mug when he offers it to you. The morning becomes peaceful once more. You and Alastor squeeze into an armchair made for one, drinking coffee in silence.

Charlie squirms in her seat with closed eyes.

It takes five minutes of silence for her to summon the courage to speak up

“Uh…” Charlie plays with the ends of her ponytail, twirling the loose strands of her hair around her fingers. “I hope you’re aware that I’m…you know…still here?”

You bark a laugh, leaning your head on Alastor’s biceps. “You can open your eyes now.”

Her eyes peek open, slow and hesitant.

Loud laughter echoes around the room and into the bayou. “I apologize, sweetheart. We’re just pulling your leg,” you say. “Let’s continue on to the next question?”

Charlie rolls her eyes and brings out her phone once more. “Alright then…Is there something you’ve been keeping from each other?” she asks. “Oh, I guess it’s like a secret or a confession you haven’t mentioned before.”

An answer pops into your mind. It demands to be said out loud. That demand is ignored. Who does it think it is to ask you to heed against its requests?

“I think you own too many radios,” you tell Alastor instead. It’s a safe answer. “There certainly doesn’t need to be three in the bathroom.”

Charlie tilts her head. “Why would you need three?”

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself for the last few decades of our marriage,” you say. “Sometimes, I think he can hear me through the speakers.”

“Alastor can’t actually do that, right?” Charlie glances at him. “…Right?”

Alastor grabs your face, squishing your cheeks. His eyes flicker all over your face, studying your every reaction. “You thought of something.”

The sound of your heartbeat echoes in your ears. “I thought of the radios in the bathroom.”

“What did you think about?” Alastor says, shaking your cheeks. “I know when you lie to me, dearest.”

Charlie gives you a thumbs up with a bright smile.

“Answer the question, my love.”

The sound of your heartbeat echoes louder. The answer refuses to be held back, coerced by Alastor’s demand. You pull Alastor’s hand off your cheeks. “I broke your piano.”

The confession lifts a weight off your chest.

“I was just at home.” Alastor squints at you. “Our piano is fine.”

You sulk into the cushion of the arm chair. “I meant the piano at the old house.”

“How did you even manage to break one of those?” Charlie asks. “Those things are quite large.”

It’s somehow possible to hide yourself deeper into the chair cushion. “I used Alastor’s bat and just…swung.”

“Oh! Oh! This would be a great opportunity,” she says, eyes shining. “Would you like to say anything to Alastor?”

There’s quite a lot you would like to say. “I apologize for breaking your piano.”

“And how did that feel?”

“Great, actually. I’ve been keeping this for decades.” It’s impossible to keep the lid of secrets now that it’s open. “Is this the wrong time to say I used the bat to smash your radios?”

The mug shatters from Alastor’s grip. The shards fall to the wooden floor.

Alastor pulls out a handkerchief. It has his name neatly embroidered. He wipes his hands, drying the drips of coffee. There’s a pleasant smile on his face. That’s totally not worrying.

Alastor stands and suddenly, the armchair sits one. He places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Can you give me and my wife a moment?”

Charlie’s eyes slide to you as she rises to her feet.

The way you shake your head with vigor strains your neck. You try to send Charlie a message. Please don’t leave. Charlie, stay here! Please stay.

Alastor doesn’t allow Charlie the opportunity to respond.

He grabs her by the shoulders. Once more, her heels scrap the floor as she’s dragged to the door. It would be funny if you aren’t calculating how much scolding you were to receive.

You fucked up. Oh, you fucked up big time.

The door locks, and your sentence seals.

Alastor’s fingers linger at the doorknob. The base of his antlers grows…then it shrinks. The pattern continues for one long minute. It grows and shrinks as if Alastor doesn’t fully know what to do with them.

Symbols glitch into the air. It disappears just as quickly as it manifested.

The sound of cracking bones catches your ears. It has you sulking into the cushions of your chair, a pout on your lips.

The expansion of limbs and the slow growth of antlers forces you to press your hands into your face. You peek at Alastor through the slits of your fingers. His antlers are so long now, growing like tree branches. Faint stitching outlines the edges of his cheek as he smiles with sharpened teeth. The lines around his body sharpen with an edge to it

Static buzzes around the room. It emanates from the radios, and from Alastor himself. Tingles run down your skin. Alastor takes wide steps as his body continues to crack with expansion. “Let’s have a talk.”

The lights flicker all around, and a faint green glows into the room.

You shake your head, still peeking at him through your fingers.

His left eye morphs into radio dials. Alastor blinks and his pupils return to their original form. Another blink, and the full force of the radio dials gaze into your soul.

“…Deerest,” you mumble into your palms. “If you continue to look like that, talking will be the last thing I would want to do with you.”

Alastor’s neck snaps as he tilts his head. “Look at me

Once more, you shake your head and press deeper into your palms.

It takes a moment for his bones to snap back into place. The lights stop flickering, and his shadow pulls back into his body. Gone are the growing antlers, and the glowing radio dials to look into your soul.

Alastor takes your wrist, peeling it off your face. “Can we talk now?”

“I’m sorry about your stuff,” you say, quickly. “It wasn’t right of me to do so.”

There it is again. Alastor’s thumb goes up and down the bare skin of your wrists. It’s such a small act. Does he do this on purpose? Is he even aware of such a motion?

You give Alastor the most innocent smile you could produce. “I think this is an even worse time to mention that I burned down—”

“What, my house?” The tips of Alastor’s ears sharpen. “You burned down my house?”

Your lips twist as you sulk deeper into yourself. “Yes…?”

Alastor runs a hand over his hair and turns his back to you. The air glitches once more. It appears and disappears as if it’s unwanted. He runs another hand over his hair, and turns back to you with a sharp glare.

“You know what?” you say, and you can’t help but glare back. “No, I’m not sorry.”

“I hardly care if you feel sorry or if you don’t.” Alastor’s smile wobbles. “I could care less. Just stop saying it like that.”

“Like how?” you say, grumbling. “I’m confused right now. Do you want me to apologize or not?”

Alastor reaches for your hand, pulling it closer to him. He traces the cool metal of your ring. “Your piano. Your Radio. My house,” he says, and his smile strains ever so slightly. “You speak as if those weren’t all yours as well. As if it was only me in that house.”

Your thumb moves up and down to caress him. “Is that what’s been bothering you?”

Alastor pulls away from you. The smile on his face becomes one thin line as he squints with annoyance. His ears flick down. Alastor looks at everything except you. You have to hide your face into the palms of your hands. The heat of your face spreads all over. It seems Alastor’s correct—you are ridiculous.

Alastor begins to walk away, but you grab his hand to keep him in place.

Just a moment. That’s all you need.

You intertwine your fingers around his, refusing to release your hold. Just a moment. That’s all you need. The clock ticks, and you stay like this, hands intertwined for what seems like a lifetime.

Up and down. Up and down. Alastor’s thumb brushes you. Part of you hopes he never stops.

“It wasn’t…,” you begin, searching for the courage to continue. “It wasn’t right of me to destroy our piano, and our radios, and our bookshelves, and burn down…our home.”

Alastor kneels to search your eyes, tilting your chin to look at you. It’s still red, and still brighter than starlight. “What possessed you to do such a thing?”

You take his hand, playing with the tips of his fingers. There’s a ring on his finger that matches yours. You plant the gentlest of kisses on his ring. “It’s because of this.”

Alastor tilts his head, raising his eyebrows at you.

“It’s alright if you don’t understand. That was something I hope you will never have to find you,” you tell him, brushing your thumb on his face. “My love, I hope you will never understand.”

Alastor brushes a feather away from your face with a smile. The things you would do to keep him smiling. It doesn’t even have to be towards you. Just keep him smiling.

Please…Please never let him find out.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor’s love language is just being the biggest nuisance, and we love him for that. Taglist: @mybrainsautocorrect @ray-rook @valentique @qardasngan @valentique @teavibesaf @tobyisher3 @amoraneuro @okay-babe @alastorssimp @aestheticgals-blog @slaggylemon @reikamasama @obessivlyonline @lyralibra @holymusicalmothman @amoraneuro @soohaneul @littledolly2345 @stelen-sweethearts @b-o-n-e-daddy @infinitefox @ayyyyyy-vase

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x wife!reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x wife reader #hazbin hotel imagines #asexual alastor #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin fanfics #hazbin hotel headcanons

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sunflowerdigs · 3 days

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It's important to remember that no matter what Eddie says about Christopher, Kim is only here for Eddie. He can't introduce her to Christopher and create anything long term with her because that would be sick. So, Eddie's pursuit of Kim is fundamentally about Eddie. It's about Eddie being able to live inside this fantasy where the parts of his relationship with Shannon that didn't work don't exist. But as the flashback showed us, Eddie wasn't capable of being with just Shannon without Christopher being the glue binding them together. So the absence of Christopher in this relationship with Kim is likely what is going to finally open his eyes to the fact that his relationship with Shannon wasn't that great.

I think that Eddie's real and thriving connection to Buck has made it more and more obvious to him (subconsciously) with each passing gf that he can't make connections with these women work. So, he has inserted Christopher into those relationships in order to give them a reason to work (I think Eddie truly believes that he wants Chris to have another mother figure). And the result has been an exacerbation of Christopher's abandonment issues. Eddie encourages him to get close to these women (even after admitting that he himself isn't as close to them as he should be, in Marisol's case, which was progress) and ultimately it's not enough, the relationship ends, and Chris is abandoned. Meanwhile, who is actually playing the part a wife would play in Eddie's life? Yeah, Buck. That's why he's Christopher's other guardian in the will.

Kim may be the cold bucket of water to Eddie's head because Eddie can't insert Christopher into the relationship. It's just going to be the two of them together. And after they fuck - what's going to be there?

It's confusing because this is about grief but it's also about Eddie's sexuality. And it's about Buck, which is why the show has inserted Buck into the center of the conflict, because Buck is the one person that Eddie has managed to integrate into his life with Christopher and also care about deeply himself.

I think the resolution to this story will be Christopher's grandparents taking him to Texas with them so that Eddie can figure out what he wants when Christopher isn't there to use as a buffer. What may happen is his parents may threaten to have Christopher removed because they feel Eddie is unfit, in which case, Buck becomes the legal guardian. And so, if they don't want to take it to court and have it on record that Eddie lost custody, Buck becomes the one who has to make the call about where Christopher ends up. And that could be the thing that rips him and Eddie apart. Or it could bring them closer together if Buck can talk some sense into Eddie and make him realize just how much his issues are hurting Christopher.

(And, honestly, I think they'll go that route because, ultimately, like Ryan said, Eddie knows that he can't introduce Kim to Christopher because the relationship is a delusion. Eddie isn't a bad parent and he loves Christopher very much, he's just all tangled up in his issues).

(Or, Buck will conspire with Eddie's parents behind his back to have his kid taken away and Eddie will, rightfully, be furious with him even once he understands it's the right call).

That would explain Ryan calling next season the "new phase" of Eddie's life. And that would explain why Gavin was promoted to regular, so that they knew they'd have him for this arc.

The cheating is the wildest part, but I think people are getting so caught up in being angry at Eddie over that and wanting to see him punished, that they're forgetting that this arc isn't about punishment, it's about healing and ultimately giving both Christopher and Eddie the tools to live their best lives. So, I don't think Eddie will end the season alone - I think he and Buck will make amends and Buck will spend the hiatus by his side, helping him clean up the mess. Just like Eddie helped Buck clean up his mess back in s3.

#buddie #911 spoilers #911 speculation #eddie diaz #911 abc

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11rosebunny · 24 hours

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Asking you to be their s/o (SAKURA, UMEMIYA)

‼️ MANGA SPOILERS FOR UMEMIYA, I RECOMMEND YOU DONT READ HIS HEADCANNON IF YOU'RE AN ANIME WATCHER, HIS SECTION DROPS LOTS OF SPOILERS!! ‼️

Haruka Sakura

He is extremely nervous when asking. He learned from the help of Suo and Hiragi that he must be the one to ask. Suo said it helps to swoon the woman even more but Hiragi simply insulted him that if you don't ask first he's a wimp.

His palms, head, hands, back was drenched with sweat. He wanted to make it perfect, well, he tried to at least.

First he took you out on a date, you weren't even aware it was because of how long you two have been going out together. He brought you to a cafe, paid for your food, you two checked out the claw machines and he even won you some plushies that you couldn't wait to get your hands on, and finally, he brought you to his house for the first time ever.

You found it a bit funny of how empty it was. He invited you to stay for dinner and now you two found yourself eating ramen on the floor, and afterwards talking about how the day went. This was when he started to get nervous, you two were at the balcony watching the sunset, it was quiet and the only sounds were either him or you speaking and the sounds of a cicada bug.

Then it got quiet.

It was getting late and you figured it was time to go, but something in the air burned the tip of your nose, you could smell something coming and you didn't dare to look back at him. The tension began to grow thicker, and the both of you knew that, it seemed like he was now too close to you, you could smell his minty aroma, and the way his breathing started to grow rapid.

Something was coming.

"...[Name]...?"

You nearly wanted to jump right off the balcony when he said your name after a long moment of silence. You hummed.

"Yeah?"

There it was again, silence. By this time, it was getting even more darker, and you took this chance to glance at him to see if he noticed, but as soon as you did, you realized he had been already staring at you when the both of you locked eye contact.

The two of you turned away in a flash, with wide eyes and heat covering your face. He knows, and you know.

"...I, I wanted to say, uh..." He began.

His eyes were darting all over the place, he has to face you, he should face you. His face then turned to yours, and he noticed you stared off into the distance nervously.

His face began to falter, and blush covered his cheeks. This time, your breathing went rugged as you tried your best to hold yourself together, otherwise you'd fold the moment you turned and looked at him. Your eyes slowly shifted towards his making him jump on spot but shook away his jitters and continued with what he was saying.

"I, I really had fun today, and um, I hope you did too," He paused looking around trying to figure out what to say. He should've prepared even more.

You hum again, "Yes?"

"And! A-and, I hope we have more dates like this..."

You shot your body towards his unexpectedly making him go even redder. Now that you two were face to face, none of you could escape this, "Dates?"

"Ahh, y-yeah?"

"As in, we're dating...?"

The image of his head nearly falling off, his eyes widened and he shuffled back caught off guard, "Y-you're, stop it!"

"What?"

"...H, I-I'm supposed to be asking..."

"Asking what...?"

"...I, ugh!"

"?"

"Will you be my girlfriend?!" His voice echoed from the impact of his shouting. You stood there in utter shock, now that his words were finally out, the two of you stared at each other as of you took a bath in lava, both your eyes were so wide that your eyeballs could fall out any second, all while looking back at each other with you breathing beating out of your chest.

"...Yes, I want to be your..." Your voice paused as his expression turned to disbelief.

"Girlfriend."

Hajime Umemiya

He's never dated anyone in his entire life. He has a reason behind that though.

Growing up alone and being raised in an orphanage for the majority of his adolescent years, he's grown accustomed of treating everyone equally as he never wants anyone to feel the way he did when he was younger.

Even so, he's rejected a few girls on his roster, and ended up friend zoning them. It was hard to get him to fall for anyone, so when he finally finds a girl that he's interested in, this is one of the many few moments he doesn't know what to do. He's stumped.

He's been good friends with you for quite some time, if not he was probably the closest person to you at Bofurin, and he made sure of that. He knew he already had an upper hand with you and chances are, you wouldn't reject him, so why is he now losing his marbles whenever the thought of him confessing to you makes him all jittery?

He asks you to meet him up at the garden like he usually does, it was one of his many sly tactics to get you to hang out with him and it worked like a charm. What the both of you didn't know, on the forecast, it was expected to rain in an hour, the clouds began to grow darker in shade, as the sun was no longer seen and before the two of you knew it, it began to rain.

It was great for the plants you two had just tender, that meant you didn't have to spend more time to water them, but this caused the both of you to hurriedly run to all the pots of veggies that were under a ceiling and drag them into the open where water would hit them. The two of you were laughing while doing so, the both of you looked absolutely insane just running in the pouring rain in hopes to water your plants. His shirt was soaked, his hair was now damp and flat unlike his natural flowing hair. You discarded your uniform since it was just you two out, the white shirt you wore was now starting to become see-through just like his, your feminine features began to show, and the shorts you wore were thigh length.

But even after getting all the plants out in the open, the two of you started to play in the rain on the roof top.

It started with you simply getting the pint of water and splashing it on his back when he was crouching down to place down the last pot. Seeing that the both of you were already drenched from head to toe, you might as well just make him even more wet since there would be no difference.

He jumped at first and whipped his head around and saw you began to run back to one of the sheds and began to collect the rain water that was falling from one of the ridges from the roof of the shed to pour it back on him. He took off his shoes because they were already filled with water, you quickly did the same thing before running off to defend yourself as you held onto the now heavy pint of water as he retrieved a metal bucket instead making you scream out laughing.

The two of you were laughing so much and screaming whenever one of you were able to splash water on each other. The rooftop floor was surrounded by water, it was amazing how much there was, which caused Umemiya to slip and fall unexpectedly as you watched him collapse backwards and hit his back harshly on the wet floor. You gasped in concern. The fall indeed looked painful and you immediately dropped the plastic pint in your hands and rushed to where he was laying down flat on the ground, he had a hand on his head and the other on his chest as his face turned into a scowl with his eyes shut closed.

"Umemiya, are you okay?!" You asked right away. You bent down and began to hear his groaning and hissing sounds and reached out an arm to check on him.

Then suddenly, the scene of the grey-haired man in pain turned into a cheeky smile as his eyes opened back up and quickly grasped the arm you held up and pulled you down to crash onto his chest.

You screamed when it happened and he only laughed manically as you began to scold him for faking his reaction.

Your arms began to try to pry his hold off, but he only gripped you tighter, "You are such faker!"

"Sorry [Name], couldn't help myself, I had to get back at you!" He defended himself. The two of you were practically wrestling each other by now. Your pleas and attempts to escape his grip staggered, it was breathtaking to use force compared with his sheer strength. So when you finally gave up, you called quits and rested your head on his chest, the both of you breathing heavily. He loosened his grip on you when he finally realized you weren't going to struggle anymore, but even so, he kept his arms around you as you listened to his heart beat.

It was slow and condemned, it was almost soothing to hear. The rain didn't seem to stop as you two laid under the grey clouds. It wasn't a cold type of rain, in fact it even felt warm. Or was it warm because he was there with you?

You shifted your head to look up at him and noticed he was now resting, enjoying the droplets of rain falling on the two of you. You smiled.

"Why do you look so happy?" You asked. He then opened his eyes to look at you. He used his arms and carried you surprisingly so you'd be face to face with him. Your face covered his from the rain as you weren't expecting to be this close to him, but here you were, practically on top of Hajime Umemiya with both your legs on each side of his torso. His hands rested on the plush of your things making your arms shake that were placed on each side of his face.

He then smiled making your expression stumbled, "Because you're here with me," He said, softly looking back into your eyes.

"I'm glad," You responded unsure where he was going with this.

This time, his breathing went staggered as his eyes flickered between your eyes and lips.

"I wish you could always be here."

The sudden words that fell out his mouth made you widen your eyes. Silence filled the both of you. You weren't expecting something so taboo from the man right in front of you. Romance seemed like it was never on his to do list at all, so when the words of his wish to be with you all the time, there's no question about what he meant. Because even you understood what he was implying.

"Umemiya?" You questioned still in shock from his reaction.

The look in his eyes drove you insane. It wasn't something you've never seen before, he looked like he needed something so bad, like it was something he needed to function for the rest of his entire life. So when he looked back at you with those damming eyes, you knew what was coming.

"Please, stay with me."

#wind breaker #windbreaker #windbreakerxreader #hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader #haruka sakura #haruka sakura x reader #jo togame #mitsuki kiryu #taiga tsugeura #hayato suo x reader #toma hiragi x reader #taiga tsugeura x reader #mitsuki kiryu x reader #wind breaker manga #tomiyama choji x reader #jo togame x reader #toma hiragi #tomiyama choji

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