#i got a migraine while coloring this </3

[rafayelism]

dating the love and deepspace boys | domestic moments

featuring: rafayel, xavier, and zayne x gn!reader

(´• ω •`) ♡ modern au! can you guys tell raf is my favorite..?

rafayel

a year younger than you. lies to everyone (including you) that he’s actually two years your senior. you only found out he was younger than you when you met his parents, who have his birth certificate framed. 

hates cats. despises them. they fill him with rage (fear). says he’s allergic (he’s lying).

“oh shit raf, this sucks! i guess you can’t move in with me.. i have cats”

“...you have cats?”

“yeah. 3.”

“i’m not allergic. i can move in tonight.”

chronically online. minoring in marine biology and majoring in annoying you. texts you over 200 times a day and if you don’t respond, he’s faking a horrible chronic illness. again. it’s amnesia on wednesdays, appendicitis on thursdays, chronic migraines on fridays… etc..

he has 2 followers on his private twitter. you and thomas. 

over 700k followers on instagram for some reason? he sells paintings on depop (he says it's depop but you’re convinced he sells them for heinous prices on the black market) 

cooks on occasion? has an apron that says kiss me im irish (he's not irish?) made you a tuna cupcake once?? 

pescatarian. not in the vegan/vegetarian way where he refuses to eat red meat but because he’s absolutely feral over fish. (is this cannibalism? he says its not)

lives in a 2 bedroom apartment with you but doesn’t use his bedroom. says your bed is comfier. turned his bedroom into a painting studio (IT’S for the black market you say!!) and sleeps with you. 

“raf,” you sigh. “don’t you have.. homework or something?” 

he sits between your legs, back against your chest as he scrolls through his phone. 

“yeah,” he says. you flick the back of his head because you know he’s smirking. “it’s called assignment: you. due in two minutes.” 

with his free hand, he reaches back mindlessly to grab yours. you sigh, fingers intertwining with his, a reflex as he leans his head back. his eyes meet yours and you can’t help but laugh. 

“well?” you ask, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he squeezes your hand. “what are the assignment details?” 

he chews on the bottom of his lip as he thinks, humming while his eyes wander across your face. he swings your interlocked hands in circles. it’s raining outside, the heater is on, and rafayel is warm like hot chocolate. 

“what?” he says, his cheeks a tinge pink. “you’re looking at me like that again.” a pause. he turns, his head now buried in your chest.

“just studying my homework.” you say, hands instinctively wrapping around his back. the laundry machine is running in the background, rain is falling against the window, and you faintly hear your rice cooker dinging in the kitchen. home, you think, is with rafayel.

“i can hear your heartbeat.” he says, voice muffled. “it’s super fast. you like me or something?” 

“i really like you.” you say, without skipping a beat. rafayel groans into your chest, sighing in discontent. 

“no fair. i’m supposed to be the flirter.” 

you press a kiss onto the top of his head and you feel his body melt into yours. the two of you fall into a warm silence, his breath steady as he traces paintings into your neck. 

“raf?” you mumble, eyes drooping. he hums in response. “did you pass your assignment?” 

he smiles. “with flying colors.” 

xavier

chronic napper. (yapper?) 

has 100 late assignments. failing all of his classes yet got into the top university in your country because he got a perfect score on his entrance exams. you thought he was a nepo baby (turns out he’s just.. smart?)

his procrastination rubs off on you… he is the WORST distraction and he knows it. so smug about it and uses it to his own advantage. will perch on top of you when you’re studying and kiss down your neck until you go to sleep with him. 

lives in the apartment on top of yours but is at your house most days, if not all. you ask him to move in.

“am i not already.. living with you?” 

“don’t you still have your apartment, though?”

“yeah..?”

 is that good for the economy?? is it financially smart? not at all, but he’s too lazy to move out and put his apartment up for lease. 

xavier sleeps with his legs entangled with yours and his arms wrapped tightly around your chest. the air conditioning hums in the background as you scroll mindlessly on your phone, dimming the brightness as you hear xavier stir. 

“sorry xav, did i wake you up?” you ask. he doesn’t respond, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he glares at your phone. 

“xavier?” you question, swallowing a laugh at his ruffled hair and disheveled clothes. 

“phone down.” he says, voice raspy with sleep and an octave lower than usual. you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“can i get a pretty please in this economy?” 

xavier’s eyes narrow as he snatches your phone away, snoozing the device and placing it on the nightstand next to you. his lips ghost your neck, pressing kisses against your skin as he mumbles incoherently in the dark of your bedroom. 

“xavier-” you breathe, giggling at the sensation. “that tickles!” 

he nips at your neck. 

“bedtime. now.” 

zayne

3 years older than you 

he literally has his whole life together at 27 which scares you so much

“my credit card is your credit card” typa boyfriend

cooks. cleans. has a 9-5. you’re interning at the hospital that he works at (he’s head doctor!!)

you’re just a sweet little intern and zayne is the big bad monster!! everyone at work thinks he hates you because he’s extra strict on you. doesn’t give you any special treatment, ‘ignores’ you most days (but also slips meals into your locker and hands you heat packs on cold days in the hospital)

no one knows he’s dating you until one day someone sees you leaving in zaynes car. 

“oh, you carpool with doctor zayne?”

“huh? no, we live together.”

“you WHAT???”

he’s a virgo……. erm……

the two of you get ready together in the morning. his guard is down when he’s sleepy and he’ll cling to you as he brushes his teeth and does his hair.

you wake up to the cold night breeze, blinking the sleep out of your eyes and shivering as you scan your surroundings. you yelp as you meet the attentive gaze of your boyfriend. 

“huh? whuh? huh?” you splutter, squirming as zayne holds you tighter. he’s carrying you bridal style in his arms, his jacket around your shoulders as the two of you walk to his car. you see the bright lights of akso hospital fading away behind the two of you. 

“it’s two am,” he says calmly, placing you down gently as he opens your car door for you. “you waited for my shift to end. again.” 

you smile bashfully, rubbing the back of your head. “well, i didn’t wanna just leave you!” 

zayne clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eyebrows furrowed but gaze warm. he guides you into your seat, clicking your seatbelt in place. 

“you can nap on the way home,” he says, closing the door and sliding into his side of the car. 

the heater’s on already- courtesy of his super expensive electric car. he fastens his own seatbelt and hands you a hot tea and bread from the hospital vending machine. 

“drink up. doctor’s orders.” 

you grin before he leans over to press a kiss on your lips. 

“thank you for waiting for me.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel #xavier #zayne #love and deepspace headcanons #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #love and deepspace fluff

[rae-writes]

colored lenses

om brothers x reader

wc : 2.k

warnings : nsfw under the cut

synopsis : they say the eyes are the doorway to ones soul, and if that’s the case, yours must be intertwined with his, no?

a/n : nooo, asmo’s part was not rushed, I don’t know what you’re talking about-

Lucifer 

He’d seen a flash of it before- a quick glimmer of midnight blue in your eyes before it was gone

He never thought anything of it though, not until he saw it fully 

Diavolo had been going over everyone’s midterm grades and was congratulating you on your scores 

Lucifer noticed your typical polite smile as you waved off his praise, but his eyes were trained on how your hues lit up bright, prideful blue 

It made his mouth go dry; he was in awe

Subtlety, he’ll begin complimenting you more on the things you do so he can see that riveting shock of color

Mammon

On rare occasions do your eyes flash his pretty yellow, but the first time he saw it sent him reeling 

The two of you were having a gaming competition with Levi and you’d finished first. “W-what?! Alright, best 3 out of 4! Winner gets a prize!” 

Mammon was about to refuse, knowing he didn’t stand a chance at Devilkart if Levi was playing, but-

“Hell yeah, you’re on!” Grinning determinedly, your eyes flickered with golden yellow 

The second born almost passed away on the spot

He might’ve gotten a bit more greedy seeing the sin on you, and fuck, did you look like a gem with it 

Levi

Levi saw your eyes flash the colors of his brothers’ power from time to time, but given his sin, he didn’t mind the lack of seeing his own

He didn’t know how thrilling it could be though

You two had been out in town when he got stopped by a very flirty demon. He was too busy trying to get out of the conversation— he didn’t even realize…

When he glanced over at you for help, his body heated considerably at the sight of your eyes flashing a toxic orange 

If he wasn’t so familiar with the sin he’d be sweating, but you make it look heavenly 

Envy might not be a good feeling, but it’s a good look on you

Satan

The fourth born had felt your rage rise and simmer many times before

Being able to physically see it was a whole other experience he didn’t know he needed in life

Another rowdy night at the dinner table- typical - but you had a migraine and had asked the boys to stop five times now

It’s safe to say you were a bit pissed, and Satan knew it. When he glanced up, though, all thoughts of scolding his brothers went away 

You sat there with your jaw clenched, eyes twinkling with wrath green. It was gorgeous. 

Satan finds himself craving the look of his wrath on you, however he wouldn’t want his sin to trouble you too often

Asmo ; suggestive

Ohh when he discovered this little addition to having a pact with them, Asmo dreamed about seeing it every night (and got a little jealous when he saw his brothers’ colors instead)

He just needed to practice a little patience though

Upon Diavolo’s insistence, the student council was treated to drinks at the fall, and Asmo was already a little buzzed when he dragged you to dance 

Body grinding against yours, he turned towards you in hopes of stealing a kiss- only to see a shock of pink in your irises

Heat shot through Asmo immediately; he couldn’t keep his hands to himself after that

More, more, more! Asmo adores seeing his sin on you and he doesn’t mind begging for it either

Beel

There were many times when he thought he saw a peak of red in your eyes as the two of you got food, but he always brushed it off as a trick of the lighting 

It was only until you had to skip breakfast and lunch one day did Beel realize ‘oh’

You were leaning against him as you walked to Hell’s Kitchen, grumbling and complaining loudly

At Beel’s offer to carry you, you glanced up pitifully, showing the red hue bleeding into the color of your eyes

His own eyes widened, cheeks beginning to flush a deep pink

While he never wants you to go hungry, he doesn’t mind admitting that seeing his red on you is pleasing

Belphie 

Soft waves of purple inside sleep riddled eyes were something Belphie saw often and loved every time he did 

The first time was special, though. Right after you’d come back to the Devildom the first time, saddled in his arms after so long of him not having you 

Sleepy you and even sleepier Belphie, but he wasn’t too out of it to miss the gentle light of purple 

He was confused at first, but the familiar color shocked him awake and his heart nearly beat out of his chest 

Sloth. His sloth. Showing up in you like it was the most natural thing in the 3 realms. He liked it better on you. 

Even more than before, Belphie begs to sleep or nap with you— he needs to see it happen again and again

nsfw ver.

Lucifer 

Tensions high and adrenaline running through your and his veins like lightning 

Diavolo was due to come for a meeting in no more than 10 minutes

You knew that. Lucifer knew that. Yet you were still on your knees, tongue swirling around the head of his cock while you peered up at him through your lashes 

His head was thrown back, eyes clenched, trying to compose himself— you didn’t like that. You wanted his attention. 

Humming, you dug your nails into the exposed skin of his thigh, fighting back a grin when his head snapped up

Ruby hues narrowed down at you, ready to scold when the words died in his throat 

The color of your irises had been completely taken over by his blue, shining with pride at the situation you had him in 

Gritting his teeth and resisting the urge to moan, he chose to growl instead and thrust into your mouth sharply, smirking when the blue shone brighter at the taste of his cum

“Proud to be mine, Mc?” 

Mammon

“Harder!” 

Mammon gasped, hips following your order smoothly, “H-hah..what has gotten into you today?”

You whined as you pulled him closer, choosing not to answer in favor of burying your face in his neck 

The moment he had walked through the door, you were all over him, begging and pleading to have him (which he’d never say no to) 

“Mc-“ he tugged your head back by your hair, a sharp moan instantly following when he saw your eyes; shimmering greed in the form of yellow 

Picking up the pace, Mammon held your head up by your jaw, demanding you keep your pretty eyes on him 

Murmurs of ‘mine’ and ‘’s pretty f’me’ left him as he filled you up, watching the yellow flash gold

“Again. Wan’ more, Mammon- more of you.”

His own greed flared, making your pact burn pleasantly, “That’s right, Mc, show me your greed.”

Levi

You wanted Levi’s attention and you wanted it now but he was too caught up in the new official Ruri-Chan illustrations (with special outfits too)

Glaring at his back, you could feel magic pooling in your irises 

“Levi.” Without waiting for a response, you yank his chair back and fiddle with his pants, “Give me attention.” 

“Mc-!” He gaped as you took his cock in your hands, tail whipping out to wrap around your waist when you sheathed him fully inside 

His eyes shot up to meet yours, wanting to ask what all this was about, when the air practically left him 

There you were, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, and eyes still glaring down at him- only this time they were orange 

Levi whined loudly, hips involuntarily raising you up before he settled back down again, keen on letting you fuck him however you pleased 

And fuck him you did, one hand tangling in his hair while the other rested against the base of his neck, hips not stopping their movements even after he’d already spilled inside you

“Quell my envy, Levi.”

Satan

You and Satan had gotten into a small dispute, but the feel of his anger coursing through your pact made you angry

Arms wrapped around your waist, lithe fingers gripping your hips hesitantly, but firmly, “I apologize. Shall we take some time to cool off?” 

“I think we can cool each other off.” You glanced up with newly green hues, eyes narrowing involuntarily

Satan’s lips parted and he immediately grabbed you up and pressed you against one of the bookshelves, fiddling with your clothes until he was lined up and pressing into you 

He set a hard, furious pace instantly, “How is it that you manage to be the one that calms me down and makes me so mad I can’t think, hm?” 

You did nothing but tug at his blonde locks, bright green becoming darker as the seconds pass

And despite loving the neon color on you, Satan can’t help but coo at the sight of it fading— all because of him fucking it out of you

“Kiss.” 

His own wrath faded down to nothing, lips covering yours softly as he held you close while you both finished together. “Calm the savage beast, yeah?”

Asmo

“C’mon, sweetheart, lemme see it- please? Pretty, pretty, pretty please? Show it to me.” 

Asmo curled his fingers up just right, sending your body lurching in its chair and your eyes shooting open wide 

“There it is…” alluring pink encased your irises, sending Azzy’s eyes flashing pink in return 

Gasping, your eyes darted around until they landed on the self-satisfied expression your lover wore— you grinned

The phantom feeling of fingers pushing inside him made Asmo squeal, jumping up from his spot in surprise 

With eyes now glowing a neon shade, you stared down at him while bucking your hips, “What’s the matter? Why’d you stop- was feeling so good.” 

He gaped- you were using magic to mimic touching him. “Naughty~” 

The two of you refused to let up until he’d came all over your lower half and your cum covered his fingers— and both your eyes were literally glowing

“Not done yet, darling~ let’s see if the pink can drown out the whites of your eyes too~” 

Beel

“Mmph— hey…” Beel frowned, visibly deflating when you pushed his head out from between your legs, “‘m hungry…”

You kept pushing until he was flat on his back, “Me too.” 

Heat shot straight to his cock- which you were pawing at- from the look you gave him; your irises were red

And he didn’t fully understand right away, not even when you settled on top of his face while also wrapping your lips around him 

“w’nna taste y’too.” 

Beel complied eagerly though, burying his face back in his spot while he tried not to thrust his hips 

Only when you began quickening your ministrations with a muffled “give it t’me, beelie, ‘m hungry— wan’ it, wan’ y’r cum” did he click the pieces together 

And though he tried not to, his hips stutter and thrust up, following your lead until he’s filling your mouth

Practically in awe at the way you don’t waste a drop, his sin cracks through his body- sending it flaring up in your own. “Again. ‘M still hungry, Mc..don’t you want more too?” 

Belphie

Choked whines echoed in the attic, turning into embarrassed stuttering when you suddenly shifted and slid into his lap sluggishly 

“Why didn’t you just ask for-“ you paused to yawn, “-help?” peering down at him with a purple glow, your hand replaced his on his cock

Belphie was basically speechless, watching you tiredly jerk him off before shuffling, working on getting your clothes out of the way

“W-wait! You don’t have to- ah!” 

You sunk down comfortably, rocking back and forth at a leisure pace while stifling another yawn. “Help, please.” 

His hips began moving before you could even say ‘please’, hands trailing under your shirt

“‘S good to me, my favorite human, makes me feel s’good—“ Belphie broke off with a moan, clamping his eyes shut at the embarrassing ‘ah, ah, ah’s that were leaving his mouth

The slow buildup was setting both your senses on fire, but you stopped him from moving faster (making him whine louder). “Slow, Bel…’m tired.”

#obey me x reader #obey me smut #om smut #om x reader #lucifer x reader #om lucifer #mammon x reader #om mammon #leviathan x reader #om levi #satan x reader #om satan #asmo x reader #om asmodeus #beel x reader #om beelzebub #belphie x reader #om belphegor

[dropout-if]

Dropout Customization

Due to some questions about MC customization, I have decided to compile all the physical and personality aspects that are selectable about the Dropout.

A reminder that this is all subject to change and that new things may be added (or deleted). Feedback and ideas to further develop MC are encouraged.

Main Ideas

Name Surname Nickname

Sex, Gender, Pronouns (it's possible to customise them), Breast/Pecs, Penis/Vagina (If MC is transgender, their transition takes place while they're away) Title (Ms. / Mr. / Mx.)

Virginity or lack thereof.

If MC is trans (when they realized about it [high school, middle school, college] and if they told their family // the ROs already know, as MC told Uma and J, and word spread).

Birthday which establishes the Dropout's age as either 21 or 22 depending on the season (Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter)

Major (Engineering, Biology, Chemistry, Computer science, Law, Economics, Education (in relation to science/maths/etc), Mathematics, Physics, Psychology). The Dropout's Major affects flavor text. These options are the ones approved by the Dropout's parents, though it's possible for MC to express interest in other degrees/topics (music, art, English, anthropology, archeology, classical studies, history).

Reason behind dropping out (MC got kicked out (they were caught cheating) MC didn't get a high enough GPA and dropped out / MC never even wanted to go to college and ultimately decided they wanted out / MC didn't fit in (they were discriminated, lonely, etc) though they really liked college / MC originally liked their degree and college but gradually lost interest in the entire thing / MC never liked their degree and decided to drop out / Something specifically related to mental health (mainly anxiety) / Impostor's syndrome.) This affects flavor text.

2 Coping Mechanisms (Alcohol, Tobacco, Drugs, Sleeping around, Avoidance, Overspending, Humor, *Hobby (overworking self) [Anger, Fake/forced happiness, Sadness, Indifference].) Each coping mechanism opens a variable and a storyline. You can choose two, though choosing one related to emotional responses [between brackets] automatically blocks out the others.

2 Hobbies (Singing, playing an instrument, songwriting, creative writing, drawing, sketching, sculpting, acting, photography, soccer, football, swimming, basketball, gymnastics, boxing, judo, karate, taekwondo, kickboxing, going to the gym, cooking/baking, dancing [ballet, contemporary dance, modern], yoga.) This affects flavor text and scenes.

Job (Bartender [Wanda, Statler is also around often], Cashier [Statler], Columnist [J (+Kai if poly)], Caregiver [Kai], Waiter/Waitress [Uma (+Travis if poly)], Tutor [Travis]) Each job gives you more time with a certain RO, as well as unlocking a storyline.

Personality Stats

Playful/Serious Honest/Dishonest Friendly/Rude Introverted/Extroverted Laid-back/Uptight Cynical/Idealistic Flirty/Reserved Family oriented/Individualistic

Others: Insomnia, Migraines

Physical Appearance

*It's possible to choose MC's appearance as a high schooler as well. This affects flavor text.

Height (very tall, talk, average, short, very short)

Skin tone (ebony, dark brown, light brown, russet, golden, olive, honey, tawny, tanned, fair, rosy, ivory.) Choosing any skin tone gives you the possibility of choosing to be a poc (idea I stole from Mila, @beyondthegame)

*Build (scrawny, skinny, lithe, lean, muscular, chubby, curvy, hourglass).

*Hair color (max 3 tones, 1 base and other 2) (possible to return home with a mess of dye for Maude to fix. NATURAL (Ashen blonde, Sunflower blonde, Strawberry blonde, Caramel, Honey brown, Chocolate brown, Copper, Auburn, Ruby red, Midnight brown, Jet black, Ebony black) NON-NATURAL (Pink, Violet, Lilac, Blue jade, Vermilion red, Snowy white, Silver, Emerald green, Canary yellow, Bleached).

Hair texture (kinky, very coiled, coiled, curly, wavy, slightly wavy, straight)

*Hair length (ear-length, chin-length, shoulder-length, below shoulder-length, chest-length, waist-length)

*Hair style (SHORT/MEDIUM: natural, side-parted, mullet, layered, bob, ponytail, twin ponytails, buzz fade, slick back, messy, wolf cut, bun. LONG: natural, high/low ponytail, messy, shaggy, California waves, a half updo, side-swept, bun, braid, twin braids, twin ponytails).

*Eye color (albino red, dark blue, light blue, dark green, light green, hazel, amber, chestnut brown, chocolate brown, black, grey).

Others

*It's possible to choose MC's appearance as a high schooler as well. This affects flavor text.

*Glasses (yes, no, contacts)

*Facial hair (No/shaved. Stubble, full beard, goatee, ducktail,van dyke, garibaldi, mustache, soul patch, light beard).

Scars, can choose as many as possible (Back, chest, abdomen, upper and lower arm, thigh, knees, calf, mouth area, neck, cheek, hands, eye area, shoulder)

*Tattoos (One big in X body area, patch-like bodysuit, bodysuit, one/two sleeves, just legs, a few tattoos all over, a small in X place).

*Piercings (Ears [helix, lobe, industrial], navel, tongue, nose ring and septum, eyebrow, lips, smiley, nipples, genital)

Dimples

Braces

Freckles (face, body, both)

Beauty mark, multiple (under eye, over lip, neck, body)

*Outfit/Style (streetwear, alternative, cute, preppy, casual, formal, business casual, dark academia, messy, boho/eclectic, comfortable)

*Bedroom, at family home and at new apartment (messy, colorful, emo, basic, boho, modern, industrial, vintage, minimalist, cute)

*Diet (vegan, vegetarian, pescetarian, keto, meat-eater, lactose intolerant)

Family pet (small/large dog, cat, fish tank, hamster/rabbit/guinea pig, cockatiel/parrot/canaries)

Characters

Closeness to all family members (tight-knit, close, so-so, cold, barely any relationship)

Same with the friend group

Crush on Statler during high school (yes/no)

'Popularity' during high school and college (popular, social butterfly [got along with many people but wasn't part of the popular groups], normal, loner, outcast [somewhat antagonistic in a way/rebel].)

#dropout if #dropout #cog wip #cog #choice script #hosted games #interactive fiction wip #interactive fiction #mc #gameplay

[cup1dt3a]

Heeeeeeeeey I saw you write about wally, I was wondering if you could do one of wally the stalker? the reader watched it since he was young then he stopped watching it but still wally chased him, i think he writes right english is not my native language

Tysm for the request! Hope your day is going well or gets better!And don’t worry your English is pretty good mines also bad sometimes T_T

“ Please be a bunny Wally please!” You said crossing your fingers.

“ I think I’ll paint a bunny! What a great idea!” He cheered.

You were watching your favorite show “ Welcome Home”. The best show in your opinion! You’ve loved the show ever since your parents left you alone to put in whatever you wanted while they went somewhere else sometimes watching the show with you or to the kitchen one or the other mostly. You were too busy watching Wally and his friends. Wally was your number one favorite! Along with Julie!

This show was all that you would talk about and sit through for hours on end. Unless you had school or wanted to go outside. You loved the show and vowed to never stop watching it it was sooo amazing! Who would ever not want to watch this it’s too amazing!?

“ Yay! You’re so amazing Wally!” You exclaimed jumping up and down.

Everything was so amazing right now you’ll never stop watching this show youd rather die than stop watching this!

Everything was so horrible! Right now you are regretting so much and so many choices that led you to these horrible migraines!

You stared up at the ceiling not wanting to get out of your bed. Groaned as your alarm clock squawked at you again to get up. It’s not like you had anything to do today so you don’t know why you set an alarm. Must’ve been out of habit. That’s the second time this week when an alarm went off when you just wanted to sleep in. It’s only 10am so you decided to go back to sleep shutting the alarm off. After a few hours you finally woke up without the annoying alarm to disrupt your slumber. It was now 12:30 so you did what anyone would do. Sit in your room all day and watch TV.

That was until you suddenly got a text from your parents. They have been so paranoid since you got your own house. You agreeed either way to come over just to ease their worries and see them. You had lived at least 3 hours away from them so it’s rare you ever really saw them. You stretched out popping your back before going to get dressed.

“ Oh! How’s my baby been?” She exclaimed with opened arms to a tight hug you think she might even be picking you off the ground.

“ Very well actually a little sleep deprived but well.” You said as she rolled her eyes with an “ of course.”

You chuckled at her “ enthusiasm” just happy to see her and your father you had no idea was at the moment. As you asked she just pointed out the window with him tending to his garden. Ever since you had gotten your own house he’s done nothing but treat his garden like his own child. Good for him to have a hobby but you were convinced he literally thought of it as his baby. You literally once saw him having a full on conversation with his damn petunias.

“ So how’s it been? “ you asked her while she replied “ It’s been well just missing my baby.”

You sighed as you both chatted for a while. A few jokes here and there and just catching up. You hadn’t been at the house in two months so it was refreshing to have some familiarity. Your mother then went onto talking about your fathers “favorite child” a.k.a what you called his garden and just remenicing over what you would do as a child.

“ Oh come on _____ you used to just love Welcome home you’d make so many drawings. You even spray painted your hair blue! And made us pain your room the color of what’s his name…Walter? No Wally! Yes Wally’s pants!” She laughed as you frowned in embarrassment.

“ Uh that blue spray paint was such a dumb idea though. Blue really isn’t your color honey. Plus you turned all the bathtubs blue. ” She said looked at a picture of you with blue hair spray paint.

Now starting to remember all the cringey things you did as a dumb kid. Jeez! You were literally obsessed with that show! You wondered how you even forgot it form how much you idolized it. The your mother took a picture you had drawn out it was of you and Wally. As stick figure’s wow you were such a Picasso. An art exhibit would want this in the garbage.

“ It’s my favorite along with the pictures of you trying to hug the Tv.” She giggled.

“ Why Yes! Mother dearest it fucking fell on top of while while you laughed your ass off. Such amazing memories.” You sarcastically announced.

“ Listen just because you moved out does not mean I won’t shove a bar of soap into your mouth.” She stated upset for you using such ill language.

You apologized with a chuckled before hugging her seeing it was getting late. You went outside to try and find your dad. You went over to his garden to see him chattering with them while watering his favorite marigolds. He had waved over to you upon seeing your arrival hugging you as you came over. You both just quickly chatted for a bit due to your long trip. It wasn’t anything your mother couldn’t fill him in on so eventually after saying your goodbyes as you hugged them.

You got into the car taking off just before a pair of dark eyes watched you in though the corner of your mirror.

While you told your parents everything you hadn’t told them one thing. You had a bit of a stalker situation as you’ve been calling it. Every morning you’d receive an envelope with a heart shaped sticker keeping it together sometimes red or pink. But every time you checked them out they had the weirdest thing written on them. Things such as

“ My sweet dreamer you looked so beautiful sleeping I couldn’t help but never take my eyes off you” red meant they would be very creepy.

“ I miss you my sweet dreamer. Do you miss me? I love you so much. Do you love me?” The pink ones were sweet but just…so odd because you hadn’t been seeing anyone at the moment and they always said I miss you.

But this time when you got home it had and apple sticker on the envelope and was here a lot earlier than expected.

“ I see you went back home. Did you miss me? Do you remember me now? I love you <3.”

“ Wow another letter from my stalker how lovely.” You sighed.

You brought the letter to the police station as always.

“ This is the 7th time this week and they know I went to my parents house. Shouldn’t this be enough to have some kind of investigation?” You asked as they shook their head saying what they always did “ I’m sorry but there isn’t enough evidence for us to make it an investigation of any sort.”

You nodded before stomping off once you got outside. This was ridiculous. Everytime you were trying to get help they turned you down. It’s like you with your ex Timmy. Like seriously Timmy Turner Who? But besides that you just wanted to know if someone was either in your house or somehow got access to it. You didn’t have the money for cameras or for the power bill to run your phone all night while it charged. Sure you were a bit of a cheapskate but what if you need the money. You’d rather die than be in debt to the power company! You refuse to be their bitch!

You angrily poured plopping yourself down onto the sofa to watch Tv. As you flipped through the channels you saw a familiar logo show. You hurriedly flipped back to it. The Welcome Home logo and theme song suddenly appeared. The bright and colorfully vibrant show blinded you for a second before you eyes adjusted to it. As you watched the episode you had started to unlock old memories. Such as those being your favorite episodes and two Wally Darling.

“ Omg! I remember this!….Wow Frank is such a mood and underrated. Ha! And they say he’s the straight man? He’s done nothing it give Eddie bedroom eyes.” You chuckled chatting throughout the show.

All was going well before Wally asked what to paint.

“ Well Neighbor what should I paint today?” He asked tilting his head looking at the audience.

“ Eddie and Frank kissing!” You shouted getting super pumped up from the show like you used to.

It was relaxing really to think back to your old childhood memories. Remembering all the fun you had and innocence you once had too. But your mindset was now back onto it.

“Hmmm? Eddie and Frank kissing that such a bold thing to request but I’d rather it be me and you my sweet~.” He smoothly said while you where left speechless.

“ Damn the writers were thirsty for this episode.” You said fanning yourself wondering how it was so smooth.

“ Oh no my sweet no one had written these lines all of them were made by me. I’ve been so sad without you won’t you stay around longer neighbor.

Oh shit

Two posts on one day Yay! I’m on a roll will it be three next? Not sure but this turned into a crack fic so quickly hope @blu3n you enjoyed it and it was up to your standards! And ty all sm for supporting me! I really appreciate you all for the sweet comments you leave! Hope you are all doing well or that things get better for you <333

Sincerely-Cup1dT3a 💌

#wally welcome home #wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home wally #welcome home #welcome home x reader

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 11

Hi! It’s been a rough week and I burned up my backlog. This is the last finished chapter I have left and with the busy weekend I had with my sister and getting a migraine yesterday and today...I don’t if I’ll have anything ready for Thursday.

Also since I finished Roads, I have leaned more into The Boy With a Bat Book 2. I’ve completely overhauled chapter two because I rushed from the play (which was in March) and jumped straight to June and meeting the lovely Robin. But I realized that I could draw that out more. Build up the relationship between Eddie and Steve more. Play on Eddie’s friends clashing with the “Let’s Pick on Steve” style of love from the Monster Hunter gang up a bit.

I’ll also put up a poll to see what other stories you guys might be interested in seeing me do next.

But on to Erica, Chrissy and Argyle’s first day. Still no Eddie, but don’t worry, he’s not forgotten, the dinner ‘date’ is next.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

***

Chrissy and Argyle turned up for work the next morning and Steve was vibrating with excitement.

“Hi, guys!” he greeted them cheerfully. “This is Erica Sinclair. She’s going to being doing henna for our clients this summer as a bit of summer special to get more causal clients through the door.”

“Totally rad!” Argyle said with a thumbs up. Steve was pleased to note that his eyes were clear and the faint aroma of weed was gone.

Chrissy just nodded.

Steve turned around and grabbed a couple of oranges from the fruit basket. He tossed one to Chrissy and one to Argyle.

“Until I can get the synthetic skin in, this will have to do,” he explained. “I want to you tattoo something simple into the rind of the fruit. Get creative. Have fun.” He looked at his watch. “You each have a room with a chair set up with everything you’ll need. Don’t do colors yet. I just want to get a feel for how you work. You’ll have one hour.”

Steve watched Chrissy first she had a deft and steady hand. She did a gynandromorphic butterfly. The right wing only had basic stripes of a female butterfly and the left wing had the spots and showy patterns of a male butterfly.

It was an interesting choice. He left her to finish up the left wing as he wandered over to Argyle’s room.

He started on a surfboard. He was bent over the fruit with an intensity that lacked in the man’s usual demeanor. His long hair covered most of what he was doing but Steve could see it was a well-thought out piece.

He waved at Argyle to get his attention. Argyle looked up with a big smile. “Hey, dude!”

“You’ve got a really good head for design,” Steve told him. “You fill the space without making it look crowded.”

Argyle’s smile turned into a grin.  “Thanks!”

“Since you’re almost done, can I talk to you about something really quick?” Steve asked.

“This is about the weed, huh?”

Steve nodded. “I don’t care what you do in your off hours. Just don’t bring it to work, get caught with it on your person, or come to work baked. You’re are an amazing artist and I would really like to keep you.”

Argyle nodded. “The big meetup was a bit of an accident. I forgot to account for inhaling my roommate’s blunt on top of my morning hit and was still a little too toasty.”

Steve nodded. “Fair enough. This is one job that takes care and precision and since we’re doing permanent work on people. Messing up is little more...”

“Heinous?” Argyle asked, cocking his head to the side.

Steve burst out laughing. “Yeah, that! As long as you follow those three things, you and I are good.”

“You don’t care I smoke weed?” Argyle asked curiously.

Steve shook his head. “It’s fine. I just can’t have it here, I’ve worked to hard for everything to go up in smoke.”

Argyle nodded sagely. “I will abstain while I’m working for you, dude. I wouldn’t want to hurt you in that way.”

“You don’t have to completely abstain,” Steve assured him. “Just not on days you have to come in.”

Argyle gave him a thumbs up. Steve looked at his watch. “You’ve got about enough time to finish that up and the hour will be done. Come back out when your done.”

He stopped to check in on Erica. He peaked his head in her room where she was testing out the different colored henna on herself. She was doing a pretty lotus pattern on her left hand with the different dyes.

“You really do have a steady hand,” he said as he strolled up to her.

She grinned up at him. “Thanks! The darker the red is, the harder it is to show up on my hand. See?” She held up her hand so he could get a better look at it.

“Yeah. Does the dye have to be red?” he asked.

She nodded. “Real henna starts off bright orange and darkens over time. There are other dyes that can be used for henna, but it’s not from the plant of the same name.”

Steve nodded. “I got you the paste stuff, but I can get you other kinds if you would prefer that.”

“That’s fine for now,” Erica said. “The powder isn’t shelf stable and can go bad. If I decide to do it full time, I’ll think about going to the powder, but this will work.”

Steve nodded. “Wanna come see what Chrissy and Argyle did for their first tattoos?”

Erica grinned and immediately jumped to her feet and followed him out to the reception area.

Argyle and Chrissy were leaning up against counter chatting with Robin.

“Hey, guys!” Steve greeted. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Argyle and Chrissy turned, throwing both of their oranges at him at the same time.

Steve caught them both which raised eyebrows.

“Dude!” Argyle said. “That was wicked.”

“Shit,” Chrissy said with a giggle. “I forgot you were on the baseball team, too.”

“You were on the baseball team?” Argyle asked.

“In high school,” Steve said with a shrug. “And the basketball team and the swim team.”

“Wow.”

Steve chuckled. “It was so my parents could pay to have someone else watch me instead of doing it themselves. But I had fun. I was captain of the basketball team and co-captain of the boys swim team.”

“You have depths, bro,” Argyle said. “That’s so cool.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks.” He handed one of the oranges to Erica. “Hold this, please.”

She rolled her eyes but wisely said nothing.

He looked at the orange in his hand and saw it was Chrissy’s. “I guess will start with this one.”

Chrissy grinned at him.

“It’s a good design,” he told her. “It’s unique. The lines are strong without being too thick.” He peeled the orange and looked at the rind. “Right, okay, so they go deeper in some spots and not as deep in others. So you’ll need to work on consistency.”

She nodded. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it. That’s a neat trick.”

Steve smiled at her and tossed the orange back to her. She sat down with it and studied where she had gone wrong with it. He took the other orange from Erica.

“This was your first time with a tattoo gun, right?”

Argyle nodded. “Thanks for setting it up for me. It was bit different from the stick and poke my nana taught me.”

“You were taught how to do the stick and poke style?” Steve asked. He felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Stick and poke done by amateurs was dangerous but knowing that he had been taught to do it put him at ease.  

Argyle nodded.

“If you want, I can get you a proper set,” Steve said. “If that would make you more comfortable.”

Argyle lit up. “I have my own set my nana gave me, I can bring that by and have you take a look. But I wanna learn how to use a gun, too.”

“That would be great,” Steve agreed. “Bring them tomorrow, I’d love to take a look.”

Argyle beamed at him.

Steve lifted up Argyle orange. “The style is good. The lines are clean.” He peeled the orange and winced. “It’s a bit too deep.” He tossed it to Argyle for him to take a look.

Argyle stumbled with it and it fell to the floor. He picked up with a grimace. He looked at the orange and winced too. “Way too deep. I tattooed the orange and not just the rind.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “I think it’s because with the stick and poke method it’s easier to see how deep the needle goes and with a gun it’s all about pressure.”

Argyle nodded. “That makes sense. Looks like I’m buying a lot of fruit in the next couple of days.”

Robin chuckled. “At least you can claim it on your taxes.”

Argyle’s eyes went wide and he smiled broadly. “I didn’t think of that, that’s awesome!”

Chrissy giggled. “It’s great doing something like tattooing for a living because you can claim all sorts of things as tax write offs. Took your best friend out to dinner, talked about tattoos? Business meeting. Bought new ink that looked pretty, and you might not ever use it, but you don’t know that, business expense. It’s great.”

Argyle looked as though his mind had been completely blown.

“You won’t need a lot of fruit anyway,” Steve said. “I’m getting synthetic skin in later this week so you learn about how different colors appear on different skin tones. It’s important to learn because one yellow might look good on a person, but not the next.”

“I’m having our friend Will do up binders for you two,” Robin said, holding up Steve’s three-ring binder that had his portfolio in it. “So that we can start getting you clients, too.”

Steve nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “That won’t be until the end of the summer. So in the mean time, we’ll be building up your tattoo skills and to talk to clients. Then probably after the 4th of July, we’ll start you off with the smaller and simpler tattoos, get a good foundation in.”

They both nodded.

He turned to Erica. “I’ve already started advertising your henna. So if you have pics of some of the work you did for your friends get them to Will so we can display them.”

She saluted. “Roger that!”

“Also I’ve been looking into it,” he continued, “would you be willing to do henna nights for bridal parties?”

Erica wrinkled her nose in thought. “I don’t think I can. That’s a lot of work and it has to set overnight, I’m good, but not that good.”

Steve nodded. “Fair enough. That’s why I asked first, I knew Robin would get calls about it and now she has a firm answer to give.”

Robin nodded.

Steve blushed and ducked his head. “I had this idea and it sounds stupid in my head, but...”

“I think it’s cool,” Robin said sticking her tongue out at him.

Chrissy cocked her head. “What’s the idea?”

“I thought we could lean more into royal theme a bit,” Steve muttered to his feet, “go by nicknames,”

Argyle blinked at him a moment. “Like what?”

“Lady, Marquis, Duchess, Stewart...” he mumbled.

Robin grinned manically. “Go on tell them what your name would be.”

“King.”

Chrissy cackled. “That would be perfect!”

Argyle just stared him blankly. “Wha’?”

“You see,” Robin began, “the reason for name, the decor, everything is based off a nickname from high school. King Steve.”

“Who was a massive asshole, by the way,” Chrissy said with a wink.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Until my senior year when I realized I didn’t want to conform to what my parents wanted me to be and gladly handed the crown to the next poor schmuck.”

“But when we were looking for a name for the new shop...” Robin said in a sing-song voice.

“It just made sense, a royal pain?” Steve said. “That’s me to a tee. So I kinda leaned into the whole vibe.”

“So you want to lean into that a little further?” Erica asked. “Because I am so claiming Lady. Not sure if I want to do Lady Applejack or Lady E. Because just Lady is the name of a dog and I ain’t into that shit.”

Chrissy laughed. “I’ll happily take just Duchess because while it can be a dog, it’s also the name of several kickass characters.”

“Oohh...” Argyle said. “I could be the Marquis de Carabas! I named myself after a fairy tale!”

Steve frowned in confusion. “What now?”

Argyle bounced in excitement. “It’s from the book, ‘Neverwhere’ by Neil Gaiman. It’s so rad. It’s about this dude who finds himself in a London that is weirder and wilder then the one you see. One of the bros he meets is the Marquis who has this wicked black coat. But he got his name from the fairy tale Puss in Boots. But not like the Shrek one.”

Steve blinked. “Yeah sure. It’ll be a work in progress to be honest. And I won’t start it immediately. Just an idea to float out there.”

They all nodded. Steve smiled at them. This was a going to be the most fun he’s had in a long time and he gets to share it with all of them. And he had Eddie to thank for it all.

He couldn’t wait until tonight.

***

 Part 12  Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18 Part 19  Part 20  Part 21   Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25 Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk​ @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx 

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #tattoo artist steve #ladykailtiha writes

[blainesebastian]

expectant (ccg universe)

words: 1,844 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) “how reader tells austin she is pregnant” warnings: none notes: other anon i got your request for disneyworld, etc. will be writing it, just might take a min. i’m leaving for a long weekend vacation, but will begin writing something for it when i get back :3 thanks everyone!  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted

Here’s the thing about plans—you enjoy having them but also realize that a lot of perfect surprises come along when you’re not restricting yourself to a step-by-step checklist. You’re not gonna lie to yourself that you’ve had a ten-year plan or even a five year one, that’s too far in advance, too many things can happen. You’ve known people with these stipulations, have watched them break themselves into small pieces to achieve goals that don’t even make sense anymore.

You’ve decided a long time ago that that wasn’t going to be you. There has to be flexibility or you’ll drive yourself crazy.

So when it comes to starting a family with Austin, it’s not something you both have mapped out exactly. You’ve talked about it plenty of times, that promise of eventually lingering like a pleasant breeze, just passing through.

Maybe that’s why it comes as such a shock when the third test comes back with the exact same notification: pregnant.

You stare at it a long moment, tapping your fingers against the sink. Well…you suppose that makes sense. The past week or so, you’ve been off and on with feeling funky. You just figured you were run-down from work, another script you’ve been working on, characterization just not clicking for you despite positive feedback from Austin and a few other writer friends you’ve met on sets. There’s always something you’ve been able to blame for feeling sickly—not enough sleep, too many drinks at the bar, staying up too late with a cup more caffeine than you usually do.

Apparently none of those things have been the culprit.

“Pregnant,” You whisper and that single word seizes you, closing around your ribcage, pushing the bones together—it suddenly feels very real.

--

Somehow a hundred plans come to mind along with nothing specific at all. There are so many things out there that catch your eye about telling your significant other that you’re pregnant. Some ideas range from adorable, to ridiculous, to overwhelming. There’s nothing wrong than just…showing him the pregnancy stick? But at the same time, you want more.

Next time you see him, when he comes home from work, you can just tell him…there’s no need to do anything fancy. Save that for the gender reveal, right? Even though you’re not about to overdo that either. Maybe cupcakes with different color icing on the inside.

Universe must be working against you though because an hour before Austin is due home, you can feel a migraine coming on. You can’t take your medication while pregnant and you feel like you barely make it into the bedroom before it completely takes your knees out. You squeeze your eyes shut, telling Siri to send a text to Austin just to keep him in the loop.

And that’s how he finds you, in bed, covers pulled up and over your head.

Austin comes into the bedroom quietly, moving to the blinds to pull them down. He then sits near your hip, his hand stroking along your side in patterned, even strokes. You move slowly, not wanting to make the pain any worse, like sharp shards behind your eyes. You let out a long breath, removing the sheets from over your head. Austin gives you a gentle smile, pushing your hair aside, his thumb rubbing a tense muscle at the back of your neck.

“You expired?” He teases with a whisper.

A soft chuckle rumbles in your chest and you shrug your one shoulder—kinda, maybe. Not completely. Your temples are pounding and the light, even dulled by the blinds being down, hurts your eyes. It’ll pass though. You’re not sure whether the nausea is from being pregnant or from your brain feeling like it’s being tapped with a hot poker. Your stomach does a full swoop, glancing up at Austin and…

Right, you were going to tell him. The words get stuck right in your throat, thick as molasses.

“Can I get you anythin’?” He asks, moving to circle his fingers at one of your temples, massaging. God—feels incredible. “Meds? Water?”

Your stomach does another flip and your fingers tighten their hold on the sheets you have pulled up to your chin, “Maybe some water, meds didn’t work.” And that’s happened before, if you don’t take them in time. You clear your throat, reaching for his wrist though when he goes to move, “Don’t go yet.”

You run your finger along the inside of his wrist, debating on words that crawl up into your mouth. You had nothing special planned, it didn’t matter how you told Austin the news. But…part of you keeps repeating not like this—not when you feel like you do, miserable and kinda sick and a pounding against your eardrums.

Austin hums lightly and moves to crawl in bed beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist. You sigh out, comfortable, allowing your eyes to close as you catch whiffs of his cologne as he draws you close.

You’re so close to telling him, almost—right here. “Austin.”

He shifts, his one leg slipping between yours, pressing a kiss to the back of your head so you know he heard you. He’s patient; quiet.

“Nothing,” You eventually say, shaking your head. “Nevermind.” Your head tips back slightly to look at him, “I’m glad you’re home.”

He smiles at you, brushing his nose against yours before squeezing around your hip.

--

A few days pass, not…exactly on purpose. But one thing happens after another, getting lost in the normalcy of time passing. You keep promising yourself that you’re gonna find a perfect moment, even though you know nothing like that is going to come. Tonight, tomorrow, next Tuesday, it doesn’t matter—you just have to tell him. You’re not sure why you’re so apprehensive about this…or well, maybe nervous is the better word.

Saying it outloud makes it real and while you assume you know how Austin is going to take the news, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s still just a ‘guess’.

You turn into Jillian’s kitchen with a half empty fizzy juice in your hand, your best friend throwing a small get together that feels long overdue. It’s completely lowkey, comfortable, the gathering of close friends to drink (or not), eat a lot of food and play intense, silly games of cards. You’ve been mostly catching up with people, Austin offering you a drink once or twice, but you lie and tell him you’ve got a headache. He brushes his lips over your forehead and doesn’t press…which is good because you’re still formulating those words, teaching your mouth the syllables for I’m pregnant.

Jillian’s trying to talk Austin into a game of flip-cup and you have to bite down on your tongue because you love that game, you’re actually pretty decent at it?

“You can be on a team with Y/N,” Jillian grins, “I mean, that’s practically guaranteeing a win here.”

Austin laughs, mostly air leaving his nose. He looks over at you and gently shakes his head, refilling his own cup with beer.

“I’ll let you play with wine,” Jillian then starts in on you— “I know beer isn’t a good sell.”

Crinkling your nose, “I’ll play with water,” You offer, “Not interested in wine tonight.”

“Oh come on, you never turn down wine. It's like one of your five food groups," Jillian laughs, "What are you—pregnant?"

It comes out so simply that you don’t even think about schooling your expression, but it’s already too late. Austin glances over at you in amusement, a smirk on his lips, until…he gets a good look at your face. Gentle excitement, a tiny bit of uncertainty, fear—joy.

You realize right then you’re taking too long to say anything, your silence is becoming an answer.

You were so unsure of what your husband's reaction would be, it's been a distant plan but…so many of your passions and work are concrete. How does this fit? Can it fit? All those thoughts evaporate when Austin's mouth opens and closes and he takes a step towards you, reaching for one of your hands. His eyes glaze down your form like he's…looking for a difference that he can't see.

"Are you—" It's somehow more of a statement than a question and you let a soft laugh, eyes beginning to brim with tears.

"Yeah," You sniffle, just going for it, nodding, "Yes."

Jillian gasps into a loud exclamation and you—you pictured telling Austin in a completely different way. In a handful of different ways, but you realize that this is just as good as having a plan. His face is…something you'll never forget. Profound awe, love, nothing is better than that.

"What a great reason to turn down wine." Jillian amends with a grin and pours herself more as if to clink glasses with other people in support. She wanders over and squeezes you tightly before going into the other room and you don’t have to hear her to know that she’s telling everyone else.

You let her go, you’re completely focused on the person in front of you.

Austin cups your face, leaning in to kiss you a few times before he draws you into a tight hug. You close your eyes, pressing your face against his shoulder, breathing him in, allowing him to ground you with his arms firmly around your form.

There are slow eruptions in pockets of cheering from the other rooms and Austin pulls away just enough to gently grab onto your hand and tug you somewhere more private. A small balcony Jillian has, the glass door sliding shut able to drown out most of the sound. You wipe one of your cheeks and smile at your husband, Austin cupping both sides of your face again and kissing you.

Slow and intimate, your foreheads resting together afterwards.

“I haven’t known long,” You promise, knowing he’s happy but not wanting him to think you were trying to keep this secret from him. “There were so many different ways I wanted to tell you.”

Austin shakes his head, “I can’t think of any better way of finding out,” He smiles, glancing inside, “Though at the rate Jillian’s goin’, we might not have a chance to tell anyone else.” He says as another bout of cheering rings out.

You laugh lightly, curling your hair around your ear, “I’ll talk to her,” Making sure she won’t spill anything to your families. You love that she’s excited, however.

You’re smiling, fondly, looking over Austin’s face as an eruption of nervous butterflies kiss the inside of your stomach. You hold his gaze for a moment and he squeezes your hands, waiting.

You’re so incredibly happy but…at the same time, “I’m scared.” You admit in a soft whisper, swallowing over a lump of unsaid words in your throat.

Austin smiles a little, running his thumb along your cheekbone before he draws you close, “Me too. But whatever happens? We’ll figure it out together.”

Together, you repeat, pressing a kiss to his lips. A promise.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #mccall writes things #ccg

[silverstagspirit]

Survivor of Ramshackle - part 2

Part two is here!

Warnings: Swearing, dark themes, death, lots of death, gore, blood, body horror, vomiting, dead bodies, I am not responsible for what you read.

PART 1 PART 3

-

Everything was flying by so fast. The second they stepped through the portal, it felt like all their insides were being rearranged. Yuu flew past universe by universe. Saw shapes beyond human comprehension, colors that don't exist, and sounds that could never be fathomed. Closing their eyes helped a little, but they were still being thrown around like a rag doll through the space-time continuum. After about 15 minutes of absolute hell, they blacked out. When they regain consciousness, they are lying in the dirt of some unknown place. They picked themselves up. Their body felt like lead. They were sure they were going to have a migraine after this. Looking around, they realized this was a plot of unused land that was located near their hometown. Then it clicked.

They made it

Yuu knew the way to their house from here, so they wasted no time in running home. Heavy pants exhaled from their chest as they sprinted home. Nothing could hold them back anymore. They were finally home. They were giggling like a madman between breaths, and before they knew it, they were already talking out loud to the family members they were yet to meet again.

"MOM!! DAD!! I'M HOME!! I MADE IT!! I KNOW YOU ARE PROBABLY WORRIED, I CAN EXPLAIN!! SOMETHING TOOK ME AWAY BUT I'M SAFE NOW! I HAD SO MUCH FUN THERE WAS MAGIC I SAVED PEOPLE I LEARNED SO MUCH I MADE NEW FRIENDS YOUR GOING TO LOVE THEM SO MUCH I-"

Yuu stopped dead in their tracks. Their town was there. But it was reduced to rubble, ash, and crumbling ruins. There was still smoke coming from the leftover embers.

"..."

They didn't know what to say. The world tilted on its axis. Before they could pass out, however. Yuu found themselves running to their already intended destination. Charred corpses littered the streets of what was once their home. There was complete silence save for their swift, heavy footfalls against the broken tar of the roads, and the increased pounding in their chest. Rounding the block, they could see the sign for their street. It was bent and burnt bit still recognizable. With the last of their stamina, Yuu made the final push to their house. Seeing their home as nothing but a pile of rubble and ash is a sight they never wanted to see. But this is really happening right now. This realization hits even harder when they see their parents charred corpses next to the rubble.

"No," they whispered. Utterly shattered. They were shaking at this point . Both from physical exhaustion and the emotional trauma being inflicted on them. With a shaky hand, Yuu slowly reaches down and holds the skeletal hand of one of their parents. Nothing could stop Yuu from breaking down. Yuu's screams of pure agony filled the sky as tears and snot cascaded down their face. They barely registered themselves falling to the ground and weeping on all fours. It didn't matter. For there was only one thing that existed right now: PAIN.

Yuu whole body hurt like it never did before. There was something coursing through their veins that felt like lava. It was another factor in their screaming. Yuu's throat got tired after the outburst and just gave up after a while. They could only wheeze now as they fell into misery. Not like they even had the energy to make any sound anymore.

Yuu did not wish to look at the ruins of their home anymore. So they lurched their way into the street. Looking down the road, they saw a pile of bodies heaped high. What caught their eye about this, however, is the flag pole that was stuck in the middle on top. The flag had an insignia of some kind. It was threatening. The triangular red flag flowed in the wind like a trail of blood in water. The insignia mocked them of being unable to save their family.

Yuu trudged their way to a lake. Their skin paling and sweat cascaded down thier face with every step they took. Setting eyes on the water, they went to the edge and stuck their whole head in. They felt so thirsty. Yet no matter how much they drank, it still was not enough. Their entire stomach was now filled with water, yet they still needed more. What was happening to them? Their breaths had been labored for some time now, but now they were becoming even more intense. Yuu began to feel nauseous. Something weird was happening inside them. That weirdness turned into pain as they suddenly vomited a whole ton of blood. There was just a thick stream of blood coming from Yuu's mouth, straight into the lake. It was a horrifying sight. Yuu is just emptying out an entire bodies worth of blood. The blood coming out changed from red to black as now they had no blood left in them. Yuu identified the substance even in this state:

Blot

Then it started happening. Yuu was overblotting.

They were so tired they could only slouch there as thier body morphed and changed. Fingers growing sharp claws. Hair turning pitch black. They could feel their clothes changing and materializing more features. Their right eyeball burned like it was on fire. The ink seeping into shapes down their face. The process was surprisingly calm. As if this whole thing would bring them peace. At last.

The ink around them started to morph into a shape. The shape grew features as more ink accumulated around it. The shape began to form into a creature. This creature looked like a biblically accurate angel. Because it was constantly changing between different forms of different creatures. It finally settled on one form, however. It was the form of a three-headed dragon with two tails and a pair of giant wings. Each of the three heads had a crown atop their cracked glass skulls. This thing beared uncanny resemblance to an antagonist Yuu saw in a monster movie once. But judging how it looked like an eldritch creature beforehand, this thing probably has multiple forms like this. That and they remembered seeing somewhere that a multi-headed dragon is one of the forms of the devil.

Yuu's transformation reached its end as they opened their eyes. The fatigue they were feeling earlier was now completely gone as they felt like they could take on the world. They felt so good. They felt powerful, too. They wanted to see for themselves if that was true. They attempted to fire a spell they saw the boys use towards some rubble. To their surprise, a burst of magic sprung forth from their hand and completely demolished it in the blink of an eye. This was amazing. They could do magic now. It made them feel a little bit better. But they were still alone in this world now. Alone, except for their monster. The three-headed dragon peered down at them with its soulless eyes. There was electricity crackling where its mouth should be. It didn't have that many features on its face. But if it did, it would have the face of: "What are you? You are the only living thing here. Do not cross us."

Yuu looked at the creature. The creature looked at them. This was their phantom. This thing would eventually kill them. They knew this, yet they couldn't bring themselves to turn it away. This was the only company they had left. Their family was gone. Their home was gone. And their friends in Twisted Wonderland would never think to look for them. They would die completely alone. Without anyone here to save them. Or even know what happened to them. This was it. The end.

No

They could still do something. The blot was meddling with their mind. But a part of Yuu's morals were still trying to function in a way. But it came out twisted. Their goal now was to destroy whatever killed their people. To stop this from happening to any other world out there. They will end this madness even at the cost of their own life if they must.

Floating their way to the pile of dead bodies they passed earlier, Yuu pulled the flag pole out the heap, snapped it in half over their knee, and threw it away.

-

Sorry this took so long. I hit a brick wall of writers block. Also, I am now doing this series with they/them pronouns as you may have seen. Once again, I apologize for any mistakes. I did not proofread this. Hope you enjoyed it.

Taglist: @kami-kun1003

#twisted wonderland #twst #yuu #overblot #overblot yuu #angst #twst angst #twisted wonderland angst #tw: dark themes #tw: dead bodies

[fnghs-frsh]

more wenclair headcanons cause i cant sleep rn

-enid calls wednesday "dubs" and "weds" when theyre alone in their room cause shes scared of how wednesday will react if she does that in public. wednesday pretends to hate it, and does at first, but warms up to it..

-enid gets buff from wolfing out after a couple of times and starts getting insecure about not being feminine enough :( it actually makes wednesday gay panic a lot though

-enid also tried to hide her scars on the first days after break, wednesday said something along the lines of "you shouldn't be ashamed of saving me." and she IMMEDIATLY stops trying to cover them.

-after the fight with tyler and the hug scene theyre both so fucked up they go back to their dorm room and wednesday helps enid wash her hair and they both sleep in enids bed theyre so tired they just lie down and fall asleep immediatly they dont even realise theyre cuddling

-wednesday kept buying small things that reminded her of enid such as sparkly nail polish, and when she came back from break with this bunch of out of charachter stuff enid was like "????" but thing keeps hinting that they should maybe use it together

-enid took up crocheting to relieve stress from all the family pressure and not wolfing out yet, but it became one of her favorite hobbies. you know what they say crochet is a form of therapy. anyways she makes wednesday more snoods and beanies and blankets in black and white <3

-wednesday is a bit jealous of yoko since she was the first one enid ran to when they fought, but little does she know that night enid could only talk about her. yoko gets the vibe they are an old married couple arguing over something stupid

-when wednesday was still denying her feelings, thing would remind her of how easily enid can slit someones throat out and how shes JUST her type and it wouldnt be a burden to keep her around..

-sometimes theyll have little sleepovers in their dorm room. right down the center of the line that separates both sides theyll make a pillow fort.

-the line itself gets more blurry over time, as enid likes to reorganize and decorate her room often. wednesday doesnt mind when something colorful crosses the barrier

-during those sleepovers theyll do eachothers nails, and enid will decorate wednesdays with skull stickers.

-wednesday is not the romantic type but she IS very reassuring about liking enid once she realizes her feelings.

-enid giggles alot when they kiss. wednesday just makes a short humming sound to let her know she feels the same, without having a vocal laugh.

-enid bites wednesday as a form of showing affection, especially ever since her fangs came in

-wednesday worries a lot about enid the day after a full moon, since the first times she wolfed out she got migraines. wednesday will take care of her, and make her the most comfortable possible, giving her the favorite unicorn plushie to hold, and sit her head on enids shoulder while they watched a movie to distract them from a long day.

-they have a private kind of love language. like holding hands under tables and passing notes to eachother. not a lot of pda. wednesday appreciates that enid lets her take her time and respects her boundaries. enid is thrilled that she has those secret little moments only they know about.

-enid loves being the taller one because of how easy it is to give wednesday forehead kisses

-one day before class, when they were getting ready, enid asked if she could braid wednesdays hair, and ever since that has become a part of their routine

#wenclair #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wednesgay

[wardenparker]

You’re So Vain - Chapter 12

Dieter Bravo x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Oscar winning star Dieter Bravo’s reputation is suffering after the debacle of “Cliff Beasts 6″ and “Beasts of the Bubble”, so his management team has signed him on to a publicity stunt to find his soulmate and show the world a softer side of the erratic and unpredictable star. The plan quickly go awry, though, when Dieter’s soulmate wants nothing to do with him.  

Rating: Explicit for drug use Word Count: 12.6k Warnings: *Blanket warning for chronic illness, cursing, and deceased family members. This is a Dieter fic, folks, so there absolutely will be discussions of drugs, drug use, and addiction.* Enemies to lovers, food/alcohol consumption, discussion of deceased spouse, accidental drug use, misuse of prescription drugs, PTSD, pregnancy scare,  I have a lot of feelings about this chapter okay? Summary: The day Steph and Nora go back to the States, you have a gigantic migraine. But the fallout from trying to take care of it is worse than you could have ever expected. Notes: ✨ NOTES CONTAIN SPOILERS. CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED.  ✨ This chapter contains accidental drug use in the form of mistaking pills for something else (mislabeled bottle). The drug in question is ketamine, and reader’s reaction to it is based solely on my own personal knowledge of the drug as well as some basic research. Not everyone is affected the same way by taking this or any other drug, so this portrayal may not be exactly on the nose for what some others have experienced. 

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10

It takes a little while to pump Steph full of enough caffeine to combat jet lag the next morning, but the four of you arrive at the studio right on time. Dieter hustles off to his dressing room after a round of hugs from everyone and a quick kiss from you, and you pop your head into the director’s office to make sure that the portraits you’ve done for the movie are exactly what they need. After that it’s a guided studio tour and you’re settling down in the cafe with lunch before you know it. Having Steph and Nora here is even more magical and surreal than when you first got here yourself, and you want to make sure they enjoy every second.

“Honestly? I’ve never seen you this happy.” Steph leans back in her seat and looks over at where Nora is coloring in the book that her Uncle DeeDee had managed to get from someone on set. “So things are going a lot better than you texted, huh?”

“Things are…they’re kind of amazing, honestly. And I’m so afraid of jinxing it by saying that out loud.” The abundant charcuterie platter that you and Steph chose to share for lunch sits between you as you both pick at it eagerly. “I mean, I hope it’s not just a vacation fluke and things are still this good when we’re both busy and not sharing a room.” You can’t be more graphic than that with Nora two feet away, but Steph knows what you mean.

Smirking, Steph flutters her lashes at you playfully, making you giggle. “Oh honey, you’ve been getting it good, haven’t you?” She asks, wanting details. “Everyday?”

“Um…usually more than once…” You admit quietly, feeling your whole face set on fire. “It’s the honeymoon phase, ya know?”

“Interesting words.” Steph hums, picking up her wine glass. “Especially when you’re describing the relationship that you have with your soulmate. He’s – you two have really gotten in sync, haven’t you?”

“I didn’t mean literal honeymoon.” No, the implications of that are just a little too much for you to take right now. But you do sigh s little and shrug your sore shoulder. “I…I don’t know if he’s feeling what I’m feeling. But I know that we’re talking and we’re doing our best to be honest with each other, and it’s helped a lot.”

“That’s great.” Steph sets her glass down after a sip and leans in, touching your hand. “I’m really happy that the two of you are getting to know each other. And that it seems like – well, it seems like it’s going better than anyone could have expected.” You had even stayed with Dieter last night, instead of escaping to their room like you would have done if you had been miserable.

“I think it’s safe to say that I feel completely the opposite of how I did when we met.” That is the understatement of the century as far as you’re concerned, but here you are.

Steph’s brow furrows for a moment until a look of understanding crosses her face. “Have you talked about it?” She asks, knowing that it’s a very big deal for you.

“No.” You shake your head, building yourself another bite of food and grateful that Nora is happily distracted with her coloring. “I was actually hoping to talk to you about it first…you know me better than anyone.”

“When did you realize you love him?” She shoots Nora a glance and then looks back at you.

Love. For such a little word, it has such a huge impact - making your pulse jump and your throat run dry and your stomach flip with excitement and nerves. “Yesterday for certain.”

“You are sure it’s not just a reaction to him being so sweet on your birthday?” As much as she had pushed you to get to know Dieter, she doesn’t want you hurt. Talking about this will help you work through the jumble of emotions she knows is mixed up inside you.

“I think it just…solidified it? But this is why I need to talk to you.” Reaching over, you grasp her hands tightly for just a second and blow out a sigh. “He’s been…kind of incredible. The whole time, I mean.”

“Yeah?” She bites her lip to keep from grinning, instead she squeezes your hand and encourages you to talk. “Tell me.”

“The physical part is ridiculous.” You’re not really going to elaborate on that with Nora nearby – or anyone for that matter. Anyone who knows you would know you’re talking about Dieter and that could end up on gossip sites. If Steph wants the dirty details, you’ll tell her later, in private. “But it’s like…when we actually shut off the snark around each other? He’s so sweet and surprisingly attentive. I mean, I know I probably sound like I did when I was sixteen, but the man literally offered to bankroll the start of my own business so I can teach art privately and get away from all the insane bureaucracy of school curriculums, then turned around and got his director to agree to let me paint the incredibly plot important portraits for the movie he’s filming.”

“Wow.” Steph hadn’t realized that all of this was going on. You had been texting, but it had been surface level things. “How’s his – you know, the addiction issue?” You had been terrified about that. It had been one of your biggest fears.

“He takes daily tests as part of his contract.” You take a sip of your tea and shift in your seat so you can be closer to her and therefore talk a little more quietly. “We do drink, but he’s been clean of everything else since we met.” A fact which you know agitates him at times, but he hasn’t fought against it. As much as he might struggle at times, Dieter has actually told you that he wants to stay clean. “He’s never snuck anything or faked a test or anything like that. I think…I think maybe the endorphin rush from… intimacy,” you mumble the word under your breath, “might be kind of a substitute sometimes? But shoot, that’s physical exercise. It’s about the healthiest way to get endorphins ever.”

“That’s a good thing.” She gives a small giggle and waggles her eyebrows at you. “Exercise is a great thing.”

Chewing on your lip for a second, you still end up smiling despite the nervous knot in your stomach. “I’m gonna take him to San Fran. To meet my parents. Once he’s done filming here.”

“Babe…” Steph nearly gasps, knowing that is a big deal. “That’s – wow.”

“When they called yesterday, they asked when they were going to get to meet him and invited us to come stay for a weekend. And he just…” It’s still kind of unbelievable to you that he said yes, if you’re honest. “He asked if I wanted him to meet them. I was honest and said yes, but I told him we could put it off for a while, thinking we might get roped into Thanksgiving or something, ya know? But he just agreed right away and said we could do it when he gets back.”

“Do you think that he’s falling for you?” Her question is gentle, but she wants to know where you think this is going. “I mean, the tattoo, meeting your parents, the business offer…” She trails off, but she gives a small shrug. “I don’t think he would do that for just anyone.”

“I don’t know.” You shake your head, letting it drop into one upturned palm as you rest your elbow on the table. “It feels like I’ve known him forever sometimes, but then I’m the same breath I realize we’ve only really known each other for what…a little more than two weeks?” The Disney trip is when you started working at getting along, and that has become your benchmark for the positive direction of your relationship with Dieter, even if there was a hiccup along the way. “I mean obviously I hope he’s not doing all of this out of some kind of obligation because we’re soulmates, but I just can’t say for sure. I—I’ve made too many assumptions about him over the years. I can’t let this be another one.”

She can’t help but give a little groan and slightly amused chuckle. “Of course now we aren’t assuming.” She teases you as only your best friend can, and she knows it. “Are you planning on telling him?”

“I’m actively trying to be better,” you remind her, cheeks on fire at the reminder of just how much assuming you had done not that long ago. “But I am genuinely afraid that saying something could upset the delicate balance that we have going. It might be pushing way too hard and I don’t want to do that to him.”

Nodding in understanding, Steph vows that she’s going to keep her opinions to herself. Or at least not try to push you into anything. This needs to be on your own time. “Taking it slow is never a bad thing.” She offers. “If he does feel the same way…” she grins at you playfully, “I get to tell you I told you so.”

“I would never take that from you.” After all, she would be right, if Dieter ever did return your feelings. “But I can’t see getting my hopes up.”

She snickers and looks around the café. “Because people who aren’t in love don’t fly out their soulmate’s best friend and niece to make sure she has the best day ever on her birthday.” She reminds you. “You didn’t cry once yesterday, did you?”

“I cried at the museum.” Which was a very different type of tears from the way you had spent the last several birthdays, you’ll admit.

“In rare fashion, I’m not going to push.” Steph declares with a laugh. “But I’m happy that you’re happy.” She bites her lip. “I haven’t seen you this happy since before college.”

“I—I don’t think…” you sigh, knowing how fucking sappy and ridiculous you sound. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy, Stephy. Like I hate that I have to leave a week before he does to get back to work. It’s ridiculous.”

“That business offer he made you?” Curiosity is getting the best of her, and she has to know. “What was that?”

“He thinks I could be a traveling art teacher.” The idea has burrowed into you since it was proposed at that first dinner at the museum, but it’s a scary thing to strike out on your own. “Give private lessons or make relationships with cafes while I travel and teach classes for the public. Or…or even for studio employees. Like traveling with him to set and giving art lessons to whoever wants them and contributing to set painting and stuff. Be my own boss and make it whatever I want. Teach whatever my students want instead of what the state of California has decided is easiest to grade.”

The phrases ‘traveling with him’ and ‘set painting’ don’t go unnoticed and it’s all Steph can do to keep from squealing. Or knocking some sense into you. “So, he wants you to develop a business where you can travel with him, spending even more time together. Plus give you autonomy and build your own brand while indulging in traveling – which you’ve always wanted to do more of?”

“He said…that even if I didn’t want to be with him, he still wanted me to be happy.” That conversation will be burned into your mind for a long time, partially because it was how you had decided to try dating for real – but also because of how generous he had been. It had taken you entirely by surprise. “This was before we had decided to try actual dating. It was—it was actually what got us talking about it.”

“Wow.” She had seen Dieter’s generosity, but it’s amazing to see it directed towards you.

“Yeah.” There isn’t really much else to say about it - the surprise you share pretty well sums it up. “Two days later he was convincing his director to let me paint the props that his character will be using in the movie.”

“That’s huge.” Steph sighs almost dreamily. “It’s going to be a big feather in your cap.”

“Or everyone at school is going to give me shit about being too big for my britches now.” It had cropped up in your mind as a very possible fear, knowing that as the younger of the two art teachers at your school and a newer teacher in general, you were looked down upon quite a lot. As though art education wasn’t as essential for a healthy mind as any language or history class.

“Anyone that has anything negative to say can fight me.” Steph promises, nearly growling and shaking her head. “Maybe you should work up a business plan. See how feasible it would be.”

“I honestly have no idea what kind of licensing, if any, it would take to give private or public art classes in other countries and it seems like it would cost a fortune to get started.” A slight – alright, more than slight – fear of the unknown has tinged the idea, and you hadn’t started any research for fear of finding out that the incredibly appealing idea would be too complicated to be realistic. “You know I love my students, but I swear sometimes I still feel like that sixteen-year-old who was going to be a professional painter come hell or high water.” The biggest problem with that plan always being that you needed to be rich first in order to pull it off. Becoming wealthy from painting takes years if it ever even happens. Which it usually doesn’t.

“Maybe you should start looking into it. Can you imagine traveling around and still getting to paint?” Steph muses. She wants nothing more for you than to travel the world with Dieter if it will make you happy. She loves, loves having you live with her – honestly doesn’t know if she would have survived without you after Shawn – but you deserve happiness.

“I’d miss you.” You squeeze her shoulder gently, not minding that the thought of being away from your best friend for too long makes you a little melancholy. You’re family, after all, and you got each other through one of the hardest loses of both of your lives. “Like I’ve been missing the heck out of you for the last week.” And there it is - that little smile that curls the corner of your lips now every time you think of him. It’s because of Dieter that she and Nora are here. He did that out of the goodness of his heart. A much bigger heart than you ever knew he could have. “I love the idea of painting for a living. I do. It would just be a huge change. And change is…it can be scary. That’s all.”

“I completely understand.” That’s very true. Reaching over, she squeezes your arm. “Although we will always be there when you come home. And be so fudging proud of you.”

“You always have been, and I love you for it.” Covering her hand with your own, you offer her a wider smile and shrug. “Who knows. Maybe they’ll like what I did for this movie and I’ll become a set decorator. That would be on par with how weird things have gotten lately.”

“God you would be good at it.” Steph gushes. “And when you make the big bucks, you can help me launch the exclusive food brand.” Dreaming about things helped the two of you get through the lows and it’s still fun to think about now.

“It should have a flagship restaurant.” You recall having a conversation with Dieter to the same affect, and the idea had stuck with you ever since. “Imagine being able to take this one out to eat and not having to worry about hidden ingredients?” If Nora is aware that you’re talking about her, she doesn’t show it, and you waggle your eyebrows at Steph slightly when your niece doesn’t react to the discussion. “Maybe Rico could help. His family had a restaurant, ya know.”

The way her face changes is instantaneous, biting her lip and looking away, suddenly flustered. “He— he’s good about her diet.” She manages, slightly winded even talking about the guard who had been helping her with her daughter while you have been here.

“Oh yeah?” Leaning in with a grin, You rest your chin on your hand and raise an eyebrow. “Is that all he’s good at?”

“Stop. He’s just being nice.” She hisses, although the way the grin nearly splits her face in half tells you otherwise.

“Oh bullshirt.” You lower your voice despite not actually cursing, loving to see such unbridled happiness on her face. “Did something happen?”

“No.” She insists, looking over at Nora. “Yes, or maybe it’s that something almost happened.” She clarifies. “There was a moment.”

“Wait, seriously?” Your eyes widen almost comically. “I was totally just being nosy, but tell me everything!”

“There’s not a lot to tell.” Still, the other woman leans forward. “I gave Rico a key, to make it easier to help with Nora so he’s not waiting on me or stuck at the house.” She explains. “I came downstairs two days ago and he’s already in the kitchen, coffee ready and making breakfast. I just – when he handed me the coffee cup, wearing an apron with a spatula in his hand – I almost kissed him.” She confesses breathlessly.

The “awwe!” You let out is muffled, but it’s just so very on point for Steph. Domestic and sweet and innocent. “Have you thought about asking him out?” To a certain degree, the fact that you’re enthusiastic about her finding someone again really is important, and you know it. You’re her soulmate’s sister. If you even breathed a single word of dissent against it, she wouldn’t say another word to you about men ever again. And that just wouldn’t be right or fair. Steph deserves all the happiness in the world and Shawn would hate to see her waste her loving heart by staying alone.

“No.” Her shoulders slump and she blows out an exasperated breath. “He’s just being nice. Doing what his boss asked or Libby asked him too.” She reasons. “I can’t push myself on him.”

“Libby only asked him to look after Nora while you were at work,” you remind her, smiling softly when her protest comes with a pout. “If he’s doing more than that it’s because he wants to. And Dee knows him better than either of us, and he agreed with me that Rico is into you.” The subject of them had come up a few days ago when Steph had texted you a selfie from family dinner – with Rico right there at the table beside Nora.

“You think so?” The naked hope is probably a little desperate, or maybe sad, but Stephanie wants to be wanted again. She loves Shawn, never will stop, but she also needs to feel like she matters to someone besides her daughter or you, There are just some needs neither one of you can fill. “I just— he’s different from Shawn but he’s also so like him.” She chokes out a small laugh. “Shawn would have loved hanging around him, ironically.”

“He’s a good guy.” And hopefully hasn’t said a goddamn word about the night of the party when he drove you back to Dieter’s house, because that would be mortifying. “He’s caring and kind and funny. And honey…Shawn didn’t want you to stay alone forever. You know that.”

“I know.” She knows that. They had that conversation when it was clear he wasn’t getting better. “I just never expected to actually be attracted to someone.”

“Sometimes the best things happen by accident.” After all, hadn’t that essentially been what happened with you and Dieter? It certainly hadn’t worked out the way anyone had planned - just an accidental night at the hospital with him accidentally overhearing what happened to you as a teen and everything had begun to change. “I’m not saying you should go back home and throw yourself at him. But I do think that it’s okay to be happy or even excited about a crush. You deserve happiness, honey.”

Steph blows out a breath and can’t help but giggle. “It doesn’t hurt that he’s hot either.” She admits with a roll of her eyes.

“Super hot.” Sculpted would be the word you would choose for him – much like your brother had been. “Very much your type.”

“Are you sure you are okay with this?” She asks once again, just needing to reassure herself.

“Yes.” You can’t blame her for asking. If your places were switched you would be terrified of her feeling as though you were betraying her. But the fact is, the only thing that would betray Shawn’s loving spirit more would be if Steph locked herself away for the rest of her life. “I am absolutely okay with this as long as it makes you happy. If it doesn’t make you happy, then forget I even said anything.”

“God.” She can’t help but giggle again, glancing over at Nora. “It’s a good darn thing that someone loves uncle DeeDee and Rocko.” She sticks her tongue in her cheek. “I think she’s saying that one on purpose.”

“I’m gonna end up singing the Rocko’s Modern Life theme in my head all the time.” The old cartoon was a favourite of yours, after all. “So he got a nickname, you think?”

“She giggles every time she says it and demands that he hold her a lot. Or throw her in the pool.” The first time she had seen it, her heart had nearly stopped, but her daughter’s shrieks of laughter had kept her from putting a stop to it.

“You guys are spending a lot of time at Dee’s?” Nora must be loving that. The pool is such a luxury for her, and for Steph too.

“That’s okay, right?” Steph asks, chewing on her lip. “Rico says that the kitchen in Dieter’s house is set up to his preferences so, he enjoys cooking there.” She gives a small shrug. “Plus, Nora is living in the pool.” Her disease meant that often public pools were out of the question and Rico and Dee had assured her that the pool filters would be fine if there was an accident. Even if she did still put her daughter in the swim diapers.

“Honey, of course.” The two of you have returned to eating and are near to demolishing the end of your lunch. “You guys do your thing. And plus, I mean…if things are still good between Dee and me when we get back, I’m sure we’ll still go over there plenty often.” You’ve already admitted to yourself that you’re going to hate not being able to fall asleep next to him every night when you get back to the States. You’ll want to be over there fairly often and you know it.

"I noticed that you didn't jump at the idea of staying with us last night when Nora asked." Steph smirks, eyes filled with mischief. "So I take it your birthday celebration ended with another bang?"

“Well…” You clear your throat, looking a little guilty about having turned down the offer from your niece, but not really regretting it. “I had to thank him properly for bringing my two favourite girls all the way across the ocean to me.”

That smirk ends up being a complete shit-eating grin. "And did you?" She asks, waggling her brows. "Thank him properly?"

You grin, nose wrinkling in that way that always earns you a kiss from Dieter. “Twice.”

"Jesus." She huffs under her breath in amazement and a little jealousy. "How many fuc-udging times did you do it yesterday?"

“Uh…” You actually have to stop and think, literally tallying it up on your fingers as you recall each and every orgasm vividly. “…Five…”

"Oh my God." Her eyes widen almost comically. "He can go five times in a day?"

“The previous record was three.” Even though you have the decency to look a little sheepish about it, it’s not like you’re upset that your soulmate loves sex. “But yesterday was a special occasion.”

"Fuck." Her voice is low, but that deserves the real word. "No wonder you were a little stiff this morning." She giggles.

“So was he.” You snicker, smothering a giggle with both hands. “I mean, for the normal morning reason, ya know?” You had both elected to skip morning sex today in favor of a thorough shower, since you had fallen asleep a rumpled mess after one more round last night.

"Well at least you know you are both compatible in that." She reasons. "Can you imagine a soulmate who was just horrible in bed?"

“I mean I’m sure that’s not top priority for some people, and that others are…shall we say…compatibly bad.” The idea of it just makes you shake your head. “But I’m grateful that we aren’t those people.”

"I'm glad you are getting laid." She winks at you. "You needed it."

“God yes.” A giggle bubbles out of you that you just can’t deny. “I’m so much more relaxed.”

"Amazing that the man you thought you hated is giving you the best ...snuggles of your life." She teases playfully.

“One of life’s little ironies, I guess.” Since you never know what could have been if you had met years ago, you’ve decided not to harp on it. Instead, you’re just glad that you have the time you have. However long that will be.

"I am happy the two of you are getting along." She murmurs softly, forgoing the teasing to give you her honest thoughts.

“Things are good.” You finish your drink and sit back in your chair, tracing your fingers along one of Dieter’s triangles in your arm. “I just hope they stay that way.”

"I don't think you have to worry about that." She predicts, watching you toy with the tattoo that had been the source of so much ire for so long. Both of you were idiots - and in love with one another - but you both were her idiots.

******

Three days came and went like wildfire, and even though you missed spending all you time with Dieter, being able to share your favourite things around Geneva with Steph and Nora made everything absolutely worthwhile. Having to bring them to the airport after leaving Dee at the studio feels like ripping a big hole out of your own chest and you know you’re moping as you get out of the cab with them at the airport departure gate.

"You will be back in ten days." Steph reasons, shouldering the bag she was bringing on the plane with her while Nora proudly wheels the Toy Story suitcase that Dieter had managed to find somewhere behind her. She wasn't going to complain about the trip, even though she was already missing you, having enjoyed every second of her impromptu getaway.

“I’ll still text you every day and send you tons of pictures.” Tugging Steph into your arms, you practically crush her against you in a hug before reaching to do the same with Nora. “Did you have fun on your first time in another country, sweetie?”

Nodding, Nora lets out a slightly put out sigh and looks up at you with large, pleading eyes. Saying bye to Uncle DeeDee had included a few tears but she had been mollified by his promise to send her Aunt Gigi home soon. "Do we have to go?" She asks again. "I really, really, really love it with you and Uncle DeeDee."

“And we really, really, really love that you came, honey.” You hug her fiercely, willing yourself not to cry. The throbbing headache that you woke up with this morning won’t be helped at all by crying. “But vacations don’t last forever. That’s what makes them special.”

“I wanna go on anofer vacation soon.” Nora looks at her mom and then over at you. “I like you and Uncle Deedee kissing, Gigi. It’s cute. And you kiss on vacation.” Obviously since she hasn’t seen you kiss any other time, her little mind put those things together.

“You like it when I kiss Uncle Deedee, huh?” You chuckle softly, hugging her tight one more time before pressing a kiss to her hair and setting her back down on the ground beside her mom. “That might happen when we’re not on vacation too, sweetie. Would that be okay with you?”

“Do you like Uncle Deedee?” She asks, biting her lip and looking up at you in awe. She’s been teased about boyfriends, but she wonders about it. Uncle Deedee is handsome and fun.

Nora’s hair is wild today, curls bouncing in every direction, and they bounce around her face as she turns up her chin at you and worries her bottom lip. Being honest with her has always been key, but you’ve never had to be honest with her about a relationship before — you just haven’t been in them. “Yes.” You nod, brushing stray hairs from her face. “I do like Uncle Deedee. I like him a lot.” Exhaling slowly, you watch Nora’s face for a moment before explaining: “He’s my soulmate, and I really like spending time with him.” You know that she understands the basic concept of soulmates. That everyone does from a very young age. And you know that she’s seen your tattoos and Dieter’s side by side. But you can’t be sure that she’s put the two things together, since the night you explained to her that your marks are from your soulmate was before she had met Dieter or even heard his name.

“Does that mean you get married?” Nora asks. “Elisabeth says that soulmates get married and have babies.”

“Sometimes they do.” After all, romantic soulmates are the most common. “But sometimes they’re best friends, or partners for things, or they might love each other a lot but never get married. There’s no rule about what you have to do once you’ve met your soulmate.” What you want is still somewhat up in the air as far as you’re concerned - although you know that that isn’t just up to you.

“Do you want to get married?” She asks, brow scrunched in confusion as she tries to understand.

"Well, that's not just up to me, sweetie." Nor is it a topic you would ever go near with Dieter. Not when things are going so well. Nothing in the whole world is more likely to scare him off. "That's a decision that adults make together."

She nods and shoots you a grin. “I think you’re gonna get married.” She predicts. “Uncle Deedee wants to.” She announces before she lunges forward and gives you another hug. “Bye Auntie Gigi.”

"Uh..." You try not to stare, picking up your jaw off the ground long enough to hug her again. "Bye, honey. I—I love you." The look you give Steph is more akin to what the fuck? than anything else, and as you go to hug your best friend one more time you mutter: "Did he say something to her?" In Steph's ear, practically begging her to see if she can keep her daughter talking while they get through security and off to their gate. If he did, you need to know what it was, and you also know that Steph completely understands that need.

“I’ll talk to her.” Stephanie squeezes you extra hard for reassurance and kisses your cheek before she pulls away. “Go back to the hotel and get some sleep, okay?” She tells you with a knowing look. “That headache isn’t going to go away by itself.” She’s known you for too long to not recognize the symptoms of Aunt Gigi hurting and trying to put on a brave face.

"Love you." The fact that she knows you so well is both a blessing and a curse, and you give her hand one last squeeze before Steph turns to scoop Nora up and whisk her into the bustling airport.

You climb back into the cab with a sigh, asking the driver to simply take you back to the hotel. This migraine isn't going to go away on its own, as Steph pointed out, and there's something else on your mind that only occurred to you this morning that is wreaking havoc in your mind. An offhanded comment from your best friend this morning about starting her period had made you suddenly acutely aware of the fact that yours is late – something which had escaped your notice while you were too happily ensconced in the best and most frequent sex of your life. Of course you are faithfully using condoms with Dieter now – but that first time you were nowhere near as responsible. The world has a way of laughing at you when it comes to Dieter, so you've decided not to freak out about it. You'll go back to the hotel, pop a few aspirin, and nap off this migraine for as long as it takes. If you still haven't started your period by tomorrow, you'll hop down to the pharmacy after Dieter goes to the studio and buy a pregnancy test, and deal with that terrifying ordeal when you come to it. Cool, calm, and collected. That's the way to do it today. Anything else just makes your head throb too intensely.

By the time you get back to the hotel it's starting to become unbearable, and the plans you had for ordering a pot of tea and an afternoon snack from room service are too much to even consider. You know you saw an aspirin bottle somewhere in the bathroom, and the search has now become vital. Drawing every curtain in the place closed on your way through the rooms, you end up in the darkened bathroom with only the flashlight of your cell phone to guide you, because the less light that meets your eyes right now the better. You've practically ransacked the place before you find the aspirin bottle sitting beside Dieter's myriad of hair products that he never seems to use. It's not a brand you recognize, but aspirin is aspirin, right? Taking three for good measure, you wash them down with a drink of water and decide to go lie down in bed. Hopefully Steph will be able to figure out if Dieter actually said anything to Nora or if her active little mind is just extrapolating things before they get on their flight and she can text you, because the wondering is just interminable. Commitment is a 'c' word that you would never bring up to him in a million years, but if he said something? If he gave any kind of indication that he feels about you the way you feel about him? That would be amazing. Unbelievable, but amazing. It's somehow impossible to sleep despite being dead tired, and sluggishness is creeping into your body - holding you to the bed with invisible arms. With your eyes closed you have no idea how much time has passed, but a nauseousness and powerful dizziness slowly set in. The room is spinning around you and you can't even grasp the blankets to hold on for the ride because you can't flex your fingers—

Why can't you flex your fingers? Why can't you move your leg? Why – when you crack your eyes open to try to get your bearings – are you seeing double? The blankets around you have transformed into a beautiful green field with lovely butterflies and flowers that may or may not be singing to you, and those pills weren't aspirin, were they?

The terror that sets in is a deep and all-consuming anxiety, making you cry fierce tears that you cannot feel. This is your worst nightmare, and it has come back to life: alone, unable to seek help, with some kind of drug in you but you have no idea what it is or what it will do to you. The beautiful field around you seems to be far away as you curl into the fear in your own mind. Alone. With no help. Who knows what or how much you took. You could die right here and no one would find you for hours. Hours. Minutes. Weeks. Days. How long have you been lying here? At least your migraine is gone...

******

There had definitely been a little bit of a chilly atmosphere on set today. Not from the cast, but the director had been short with his interactions with Dieter, making him guess what the man was looking for when he reset the scene to redo nearly a dozen times before he was satisfied with it. Making Dieter roll his eyes at the childishness of the entire situation. Being upset about him taking the day for his soulmate’s birthday and then two days later having a late start morning and two hours of shooting was the height of power play bullshit in his opinion. Of course, the director wants the early day tomorrow, so that’s okay.

Slotting his key into the door, he wonders if you are upset that Stephanie and Nora are gone. It’s been a wonderful few days that they’ve been here and your attitude has been nearly bubbly and giddy. Not to mention the sex has been even more satisfying, with you thinking you need to ‘thank’ him for flying them out. You don’t, but Dieter would never turn down an opportunity to have his cock in any part of your body you suggest. Maybe he can talk you into letting him make you both cum before you decide what to do for dinner.

The room is dark, making him frown in confusion since you’ve not once closed the curtains in the living area since you’ve been here. But now, he’s about to trip over the furniture unless he makes his way to the lamp beside the table. “Babe?” He calls out. “Are you here?”

The only sound to follow in the suite is the sound of soft crying – not the hysterical sobbing kind, but the sniffling sound of a constant stream of worry and heartache and not inconsiderable fear. The green field with all its flowers and butterflies has begun to morph around you, and Dieter’s voice punctuates the hallucination unexpectedly. “Where am I?” Is the question you manage to ask, even though you meant to ask “Where are you?”

You sound different and while the crying is not surprising considering you dropped your best friend and your niece off; it doesn’t sound sad. He calls your name, instantly on guard as he nearly stumbles over something that was left near the bedroom door and hits the handle, careening into the room. “What’s wrong?”

The desperate desire to reach for him – grab at the comfort of having him close to you – is completely hampered by the fact that you can’t move. No matter how hard you try to raise your hand, it’s not happening. The only thing that seems to work are your eyes and mouth, but thank god it’s something. “Don’t—not sure.” You mumble, seeing two of him as he finally nears the bed. The fact is, you have no idea how long you’ve been laying here or what the fuck was in that pill bottle, but you have done enough illicit substances in your life to know that there is no chance it was aspirin. “Feel heavy.”

His eyes widen, unaware if you know you are slurring badly. The first, horrifying thought is that you’ve had some sort of medical trauma. Mini stroke or aneurysm because he knows you wouldn’t get high. “Baby.” His fingers are reaching for you, sweeping over your body and you feel warm, really warm. “What happened?” He rushes out. “Did you— did you take something?”

He sounds far away – like you’re underwater almost – and the fact that there’s two of him is making everything feel a little less warm and cozy. There’s not supposed to be two of him. “Aspirin.” Getting the word out is harder than it should be, but your mouth is so dry. “The fuck kind of Swiss aspirin does this?”

Shit. Icy cold dread washes over Dieter and he scrambles onto the bed to cup your cheeks in his hands. “Listen to me.” He orders you, voice sterner than it probably should be with concern. “Where did you get the aspirin? Was it mine?”

The tears come a little harder, mostly from confusion, but that deep-seated part of you that desperately fears doing something wrong is certain you’re in trouble for going through his things. “Bathroom drawer…” you manage to tell him, finding that if you close one eye, one of the Dieters goes away.

“Okay.” The fear that it’s medical dissipates, but now there is the new and very real fear that you will fucking hate him. Again. “It’s okay baby, it’s all going to be alright.” He reassures you. “It wasn’t aspirin. That’s why you feel weird.” His hand flips and his knuckles caress your cheek gently, trying to soothe you.

“Bottle said aspirin.” The fingers on your left hand seem slightly independent and wiggle slightly against his knee. It’s the best you can do as far as reaching for him goes but you wish he’d hug you or something. “H—had…had a migraine…”

“I’m sorry.” Dieter murmur. “I’m so sorry, baby. It’s not aspirin. I— it’s ketamine.” He explains. “It was my – back up – safety net.” He feels like shit, knowing you will hate him for this. “I didn’t take it. I just kept it nearby – a reminder that I had it if – well, if…”

It takes a long moment to process what he’s saying to you, longer than it should because of the drug coursing through your system. But when you finally wrap your head around it, it’s like the butterflies and flowers and lush green grass all around you start to waver and roll, as your mind starts to be taken over by panic. “No, no, no, no…” If you could shake your head, you would. You would beg him to tell you it isn’t true. Not because you’re worried that he’s been on it, you’re not thinking straight enough for that. No, right now the fear is irrational and terrifying, and not coming in complete thoughts. “Not good. Baby.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He rushes out. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise. I’ll get you some water.” His hand is still on you, and he presses his lips to your forehead.

Water doesn’t take three hours to get, but somehow you’re certain that that is how long he’s gone. Staring at the ceiling, the ambient sound of shouting outside leaks through the haze of being high and become the sound of crying to your unclear ears which only makes your own distress worse.

He’s not proud of the way that he freaks out. Certain that this is it and you’re going to hate him. Throwing a tantrum in the bathroom as he dumps the rest of the ketamine – after discovering you took three pills. He had known exactly how many were in that bottle. Flushing the pills down the toilet and and shouting and crying in frustration and anger at himself before he gets that water he promised you and rushes back to the room to help you, eyes red rimmed from the tears.

“Baby.” The word is on repeat for you, but you can’t explain why. Desperate to not be alone while on something you’ve never taken before – and to see if you can actually move a little this time. As soon as he’s back beside you, all you can think of is that day in the alley in Haight Ashbury. How the kids who had been your friends all leaned over you, looked into your scared, hazy eyes, and decided you weren’t worth the effort. “Gonna leave again.” You shudder, convinced of it beyond doubt.

Dieter chokes out a small sob, wrapping his arm around you and making you sit up. “It’s okay.” He promises. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here. I’m here.” He knows you are terrified; this is your worst nightmare come true and it’s his fault. “Drink baby. Drink all of this.” He puts the glass up to your lips, needing you to stay hydrated.

“Baby.” Drinking the water in long gulps has you oscillating between relief and a panicked feeling of drowning, but soon the glass is empty. “‘S not good for baby…” The thought is there, loud and clear, and you wonder how he could possibly not be worried about the baby when a second ago you were equally convinced that he was going to abandon you completely. Nothing is connected yet everything is, as the thoughts in your mind weave in and out of each other. Anxiety and fear exist for you in spades though your body is light as a feather. It’s dissociative and yet at the same time you’re completely aware of everything you have ever felt all at once.

He freezes, hand nearly dropping the glass before he manages to fumble it onto the nightstand. “Baby?” He whispers, eyes wide. “I – fuck – what?”

“S-Stephy got her period.” Though still slurred, your speech is a little clearer after the glass of water clears up your dry mouth. “I didn’t.” That does make you shake your head though, and wonder out loud as you stare at the buttons on his shirt. “What’s time, though?”

“Shit.” His stomach twists and his eyes dart down to your stomach, wondering if he had royally fucked everything up in your life. It was possible and Dieter can’t decide if he’s terrified or…happy. It’s confusing but he shoves that aside to concentrate on you. “Time is right now.” He murmurs, stretching out beside you and keeping you pulled close to him. “I’m here. You’re gonna be okay, baby.”

“Time’s right now.” Somehow that’s oddly comforting, even with how the world seems to be crumbling in at you from all angles. And because of the way your memories are clawing at the edges of your consciousness right along with it, the mumbled ramblings quickly become apologies instead. “Sorry” and “Didn’t mean it” and “Migraine” are the fragmented explanation you have for him, and you know they aren’t good enough even though you can’t really give him more. The words come and go, and right now they are gone.

“It’s okay.” He promises, knowing you never would have taken those pills if you had known about them. “You can yell at me.”

“Not mad.” The realization isn’t easy, because you can’t tell if you’re actually not mad or you’re not mad because of the ketamine. “‘M scared.”

“I’m not going to leave you.” Dieter knows what a bad trip is like, he’s had them before and he’s never really been left to die. Not when he was aware of it. His own OD, he was unconscious. “You need the hospital? I’ll take you; I’ll take you right now.” Whatever it takes to make you feel better is what will happen.

“Nuh-uh.” Adopting Nora’s favorite phrase of disagreement, you manage to shake your head a little before it makes you too dizzy and you groan, resting your head against his chest. “Don’t want trouble. You’ll get in trouble.” The worry in your voice is all trained on him, and you barely register his shirt being damp. You’re crying again. “Was supposed to be good for you.”

"You are good for me." Dieter promises, reaching up to stroke your cheek again. You are crying and he doesn't want you to do that. Not for him. "It's okay baby, it's okay. You didn't know."

The raspberry you blow at him is derisive and obviously a disagreement, despite the fact that your face is buried in his chest. “Noooooo.”

He can't help but chuckle at you. You are being utterly ridiculous, but he will take this over the upset and frantic soulmate he had been met with when he came back to the room. "Is the room spinning?" He asks, grateful that you aren't screaming at him in anger for leaving drugs in the room.

“Room. Pffffffft.” In the eye of your high, you’ve been outside for hours. That beautiful field melted away to that horrifying alley – but this time Dieter is with you. It’s the rescue you dreamed of but never got. Seventeen years old and wishing while you lay dying that your soulmate would come and save you from the pain. This time he’s here, and there isn’t pain. Just the occasional flash of panic over a baby that may or may not exist. But the way you feel right now? You may or may not even exist. You have no idea. “S’all tippy and whirly. But no more headache.”

“That’s good.” He muses, running his hand up and down your back, trying to keep you calm. “Just close your eyes. It helps.”

Closing your eyes is a good idea in theory, but it intensifies how sleepy you’re feeling as your body wavers between feeling light as air and yet somehow also immovably heavy. “Tired,” you murmur, already feeling yourself slip away from your body.

“It’s okay to be tired.” Dieter coos softly, knowing that sleeping it off is the best thing for you. “You sleep and I’ll be right here.”

“‘Kay…” There has never been an easier suggestion in the world, and you shift only so slightly against him before two more words tumble from your lips on your way to sleep: “Love you.”

Dieter gasps, his hold on your shoulder tightening and he closes his eyes, hating that his heart soars at the words you have spoken while you aren’t yourself. “I love you too.” He promises softly, even if he knows you don’t hear it.

******

The curtains are still drawn when you open your eyes next. It’s been almost fourteen hours and you slept right through them, tossing and turning and snoring and jolting in your heavy slumber. The room is pitch black when you blink and rub your eyes, and the warmth that you have come to fully expect of nowhere beside you. Reaching out, you notice your watch and a ring are still on your hand — which is weird because you never sleep in any kind of jewelry. “Babe?” Your throat is hoarse, making you cough a little. No sound of the shower…maybe he’s getting dressed? “Dee?”

Dieter hears you from the living room, grabbing the bottle of water that he had ordered this morning to be delivered with breakfast. He had been in the middle of writing you a note to leave with the tray, but he rushes back into the bedroom. "Hey." He murmurs, seeing you sit up and coming over to your side.

“Hey.” You’re a little foggy, but you lean forward to kiss him with one hand on his cheek. “You gotta go?”

“I’m sorry.” He is, he had almost called and said he wasn’t making it, but it was only two hours and then he would be back. Plus, he had thought you might sleep the entire time. “I stayed as long as I could. I was leaving you a note.” He frowns slightly and twists the cap off the bottle of water and hands it to you. “When I get back, we need to talk, okay? But I’ve got to go.”

“Okay.” Though you definitely don’t like the sound of we need to talk, you nod your head and give him another quick kiss. Is he mad that you slept through him coming home last night? That must have been a bitch of a migraine to make you sleep that much.

Dieter sighs and stands up. You don’t seem angry right now, but you just woke up and there have been plenty of times that ketamine had affected his memory. “I’ve ordered breakfast. When you feel like getting up, you need to eat it.” He doesn’t wait for an answer, knowing that he’s going to be late if he doesn’t get his ass moving.

All your favorite things are on that breakfast tray: crepes with fresh fruit and whipped cream, a beautiful French omelet full of herbs and cheese, hot and buttery pain au chocolate, and a pot of steaming tea with matching silver vessels of sugar cubes and cream. It’s an exquisite indulgence, and one that doesn’t say anger at all. Maybe he feels bad that Steph left, and you didn’t feel well? If so, it’s a gorgeous display of sympathy and you’re grateful for it, because you’re completely starving.

******

Dieter sighs as he checks his phone one last time before he puts it back in his pocket. You hadn't blown it up, screeching at him for what he had unknowingly done. He just needed to finish up this scene and then he can go back to the hotel and talk to you, and hopefully clarify things.

It’s a few hours before he’s back again, and you’re out on the bedroom balcony with your easel and watercolors when you hear the suite door open. After eating, showering, and changing your clothes, you feel like a whole new woman. Yesterday is a blur, but migraines are like that sometimes. “Back here!” You call when you hear him call your name from the front room.

You sound...happy. His eyes widen slightly and he wonders what has put you in such a good mood. The bag in his hand feels like it weighs five hundred pounds, but he carries it towards the sound of your voice and stops to admire you for a moment. Your back to him as you splash the paint on your canvas in clear, determined strokes. The sun shines on you and seems to cast a halo, making you seem angelic and the tabs that are open on his phone don't seem quite so daunting.

“Hey baby.” The last time you actually called him by his full name seems like it was eons ago, but that’s a good thing. “I’m sorry I slept through you coming home last night.” Turning to face him, you wipe a little paint off your hand and offer him an apologetic smile. “I haven’t gotten a migraine that bad in a long time. You’re not mad, are you?”

Dieter lifts a brow and hums, realizing that you don't remember what happened last night. He swallows, knowing that you might hate him when he tells you, but he owes you the truth. "I'm not mad." He promises, giving you a sad smile, "but you might be."

“Why?” Tilting your head at him, you abandon the canvas and your paints to step inside with a furrow in your brow. “Do you have to go back to work or something? That’s fine. It’s literally what you’re here for.”

Dieter shakes his head. "No, I'm home for the day." It's amazing that he has come to think of this hotel room as home, but he does. You are here, which makes it home. Another reason why this conversation had to happen and his solutions that he had been thinking of all day needed to be offered. "What do you remember of last night?" He asks softly.

“Umm…I dropped Steph and Nora off at the airport, came back and took a couple of aspirin, then laid down to sleep off my migraine.” You shrug a little, embarrassed that you obviously slept so long. “Had some vivid as hell dreams.”

"Baby..." He shuffles slightly, shoulders rounding in shame for having to tell you this. "I— you didn't take aspirin." He admits quietly. "You – the bottle I had was filled with ketamine." He swallows and sighs. "You were high as a kite when I got here last night."

“I—what?” Both of your arms wrap around your waist as you rock back on your heels in surprise. “That doesn’t—no. No. Because you’ve been clean since we met.” Surprise quickly gives way to denial, and you shake your head. “You told me you wanted to stay clean. Why would you have ketamine?”

"I—" He flushes and looks away from you, embarrassed. "It was a safety net." He explains, feeling like his tongue weighs a thousand pounds. "I just kept it, it was – uh, reassuring that it was there if I needed it. I kept it in the aspirin bottle in the bathroom, but I hadn't taken it."

“You had a bottle of Special K just chilling in our hotel room?” Addiction is no joke. You know that. It’s an awful disease that claims thousands of lives every year, but after what you told him about your own past you have to admit to being upset. More than upset. You’re mortified. “H—how…how much did I take? I feel fine today, so I—” His slumped shoulders and your tense ones are at odds, and you carefully step closer to him to force him to look at you. “Shit…”

"I'm so sorry." He offers, nearly babbling as he tries to apologize. "You took three. You were panicked, upset last night but I took care of you. Watched over you while you were...riding your high." He lifts the bag and sighs. "I brought you some tests, wanting to make sure that you had nothing to worry about."

“Tests?” You stare at him, obviously missing another piece of the puzzle. “Like…drug tests?”

"Shit..." Dieter closes his eyes, cursing himself for being such an idiot. "You— when you were crying, you were upset that being high would hurt the baby." He tells you. "You said you haven't gotten your period yet. So I brought you some tests."

“Jesus Christ.” At this point you just need to sit down, and you drop onto the edge of the bed with your face in both hands. “I…I got it.” You mumble, feeling overwhelmed to the point of edging on numb. “This afternoon. It’s just a couple of days late, I shouldn’t have—” You huff, almost like the combined act and sound will banish the tears rising in your eyes. “I wouldn’t have said anything if I wasn’t high.”

"It's okay." Dieter drops the bag and hurries forward, hitting his knees in front of you. You had said a lot while you were high last night, and he won't hold it against you. "You should have said, I—I was looking at rings, you know, in case." He manages, reaching out and cupping your cheek. "Don't cry baby."

“You what?” When your head pops up, your eyes are as wide as saucers. It’s complete shock that instantly dries the few falling tears, and you all but gape at him – though in this moment you have no idea if you’re excited that he trended in the way of rings instead of leaving you in the dust, or surprised by it. The man you have come to know isn’t heartless, just a little unpredictable. “My period was a few days late and you went straight to rings?” Alright, maybe you do know how you feel about that. The beat your heart just skipped is a giveaway.

"Yeah." He shakes his head. "Stupid, I know, but I wanted –" He shrugs, almost embarrassed and unable to tell you that he was slightly disappointed by the fact that you had started your period. Something that shocked the shit out of him.

“To do the right thing?” Gently sliding backward to sit up in bed, you pat the mattress beside you. “I need you to tell me what happened.” It’s slightly more than a request, because you need him to tell you whether he likes it or not, but you’re not trying to start a fight. At least, not as long as he did one important thing. “And— please tell me you got rid of those pills? I don’t even understand why you had them.”

"I didn't –" He bites his lip, ready to protest that it wasn't to do the right thing. Instead, he gets up and sits beside you. "I came back and you were crying in the bedroom. Freaking out." He takes it as a good sign that you aren't slapping him or throwing him out of his own hotel room. "You told me that you had taken the aspirin in the bathroom and freaked out a little more when I told you what it really was. Yes, I flushed the pills, I never— it was something to keep me from going off the deep end. I had them, so I didn't need them. If that makes sense? Maybe? I don't know." He sighs. "I got you some water and you told me about being late and being high hurting the baby before I made you drink some water and you fell asleep." He focuses on telling you the facts and letting you know you hadn't been alone. "You didn't want to go to the hospital. I offered."

"That's it?" Embarrassed enough that you're having trouble looking at him, you still almost reach for his hand. He sounds as outwardly upset as you are inwardly, and you're trying to process what the hell kind of safety net a bottle of pills could be, but you can't, really. But then, you've never had a full-blown addiction. So of course the logic feels skewed to you.

"That's it." He promises. "I – I understand if you want to leave." He's miserable at the idea, but he won't keep you here and he's not going to hold you to your words before you feel asleep in his arms. He knows it was just the drugs, he's said plenty of shit like that when he was drugged out of his mind too. Telling you would make things weird and ruin everything more than it already is.

"I'm not going to leave." Your hand inches over, resting lightly over his but not demanding to be held. Just offering. As mortified as you are, it sounds like he did everything right. "You...you have no idea." The sigh that parts your lips is nearly resigned. "But when I was a kid...a teenager, I mean? All I wanted that night was for you to magically appear and rescue me. It was...it was this stupid, adolescent thing in my head, but I was literally laying there just wishing you would find me like fucking Snow White in the forest. And...and last night you kind of did that."

The relief that he feels is palpable, making him nearly weak with it as he clings to your hand. "I wasn't going to leave you. I didn't. The only time I left your side was when I flushed the pills and get your water." He promises you. "I couldn't just let you worry about it."

"You actually went through last night and half of today thinking I could be pregnant?" With his hand in yours, fingers laced tightly and squeezing for dear life, a new kind of anxiety starts to set in. There are questions here that are demanding answers which you never, ever thought you would need to give. And some that you can't give. Some questions about your future can only be answered by him, and that's even more terrifying. Giving up control is not a thing that you relish at all.

“I thought it could be possible.” He admits. “We’ve been having sex and even if I did pull out the first time, it’s not fool proof.” He squeezes your hand back.

"Yeah, but you functioned through an entire night and day with that thought in your head and didn't implode." You're actually impressed, in an odd way, though you're afraid that telling him that could be taken as condescending when you don't mean it that way at all. "Most guys would have run for the hills."

“I don’t know if I was scared shitless or excited.” The words are out of his mouth before he even thinks. “I mean— it would depend on what you thought.” He adds. “That is the most important thing.”

"This is what you meant, isn't it?" You lift your head to find him looking down at you with searching eyes. "When you left this morning, you said we needed to talk."

“What did you think I meant?” He asks, frowning slightly in confusion. “I half expected you to be screaming at me when I got here.”

"I had no idea." It could have been work, it could have been something Steph said, it could have been a message from Libby. It could have been anything. "But since you left me that amazing breakfast, I figured you weren't mad at me."

“I wasn’t mad at you.” He shakes his head and gives a small, unamused chuckle. “I just— I hated leaving this morning. Knowing that you had just gone through what you feared most. Because of me.” His voice breaks and tears roll down his cheeks, staring at your joined hands.

"Hey..." Seeing him cry definitely wasn't on the list of things you expected from today – or ever – but you tug him closer by your joined hands and carefully brush his cheeks dry with your other thumb before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Unlike the last time I couldn't remember what happened with you, this is a good thing." Although the sentence actually makes you cringe, and you mirror his wry laugh. "Maybe I should check my choices so I stop losing my memory around you. That might be better."

“It might be better.” He admits with grin. “Although maybe it’s because I’m me.”

"Dee..." The impulse to rest your head on his shoulder is strong, but for the sake of asking the hard question, you have to resist it right now. "Do you actually want to stay clean? I—I know you said you did. And I don't think you lied to me, but...but imagine if I was pregnant and we did have a kid and they were the one who had taken those pills."

Dieter sighs, “I wasn’t planning on keeping them forever.” He hadn’t thought of that, but he doesn’t like the idea. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t touch them. Prove to myself that I didn’t need them, and I would get rid of them when I got back to L.A.” He feels foolish but he never said he was the most rational of men. “Kind of like a sobriety chip.”

The expression on your face is lopsided, but you pull his hand into your lap and run your thumb over his gently. "What if we got you an actual sobriety chip? NA meetings and a sponsor and all of that? I mean I'm not going to force you or anything, but if you want to do it formally, I'll help however I can." What you went through when you were younger isn't really quantifiable as an addiction, but technically until yesterday you guess you were seventeen years sober.

“I can’t do that.” Dieter gives you a small shrug. “Non-disclosures and everything. It’s a legal mess, so they encourage me not to go that route.”

"What about me, then?" It's slightly sticky, having someone close to you that you care about be your sponsor, but plenty of people do it. There's the risk that they could grow to resent you for keeping them from their addiction, but more often than not it turns out to be a beneficial connection. "I mean, you can tell me to go to hell and I'll totally understand. But...if it's something you want to try, then maybe I could be your unofficial sponsor?"

“I don’t know.” He bites his lip and ponders that idea. “It’s— I don’t want you to worry about the cravings.” He shrugs. “But, maybe I could talk about it sometime? To the woman I’m in a relationship with?”

"I want you to be able to talk to me about anything." That, at least, is any easy truth. An easy truth attached to a much larger one. One that it may or may not be time for, all things considered. After all – if you can't tell him after he's been your accidental Trip Sitter and weathered the face of a pregnancy scare, then when can you? "The thing is..." Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, are you really about to do this? "I—I..." Squeezing your eyes shut, you barely manage to hold back from cursing at yourself out loud. "I am a giant fucking chicken is what I am."

Dieter snorts and shakes his head. “You aren’t a chicken. You are brave and kind and way too good for me.” He murmurs, picking up your hands and pressing a kiss to the back of yours.

"Brave?" The borderline disgusted raspberry you blow into the air is an inelegant protest, but it pretty much sums up how crap you feel that description is of you. "You thought I was pregnant and you went out and bought tests and started looking at fucking rings and I can't even get up the guts to tell you how much—" Just. Fucking. Do It! "How much I love you." It's like being punched in the gut when the words finally come out, and your whole body wants to slump like a marionette without its puppeteer. You said it. Now you just hope it isn't the final straw that makes him run. Or kick you out.

Dieter blinks and then gives a small bark of laughter. Holding tight to your hand when you try to pull back. “You did.” He tells you. “I thought it was the fucking drugs. You told me right before you went to sleep.” He looks over at you with a wide smile. “You mean it? You do love me?”

"I asked you to tell me everything!" Your jaw drops at him and you're nearly laughing in disbelief, so shocked that he heard that and that you said that and yet...yet he's sitting here and looking at you like that. Like you're replaced the sun in his sky. Like he has hope. "Jesus Christ, the first time I told you I love you was when I was high?" You're never going to live that down; you can just feel it. "I— yes. I mean it. But I realize it's fast and I don't expect you to say it back or even feel it. Maybe ever. I don't know."

“You fell asleep before you heard me tell you that I love you.” He admits. “I thought you were just spouting shit, but I meant it. I love you. I’ve been thinking it for a while.” It’s not eloquent or how he ever imagined it, but it helped to know that you loved him too.

"Wait – really?" It doesn't hit you until after that you truly had been bracing yourself for him to run for the proverbial hills. Terrified of any kind of commitment or just not wanting you to be the one even though the universe thought you were perfectly suited to each other.

“I was going to ask you to marry me if you were pregnant.” He makes a face at you, one that says you’re an idiot. “Don’t know what more to say than that. Do you honestly think I would do something I didn’t want to do?”

"Logically? No." You've practically tugged his entire arm into your lap as your heart swells, absorbing how real this moment is. Even if it came around because of something shitty, it is still a good thing. "But I can't say that my own personal logic machine is working on all thrusters right now."

“You did get really high last night.” Dieter snickers, reaching over and cupping your cheek with his free hand. “But, I’ve got to admit that I do love you. As in I hate that you are leaving in nine days.”

"I love you, too." It's like something inside you is singing, letting you open up and say the words without choking or sputtering out halfway through. "If I didn't have to go back to school, I would stay. I'm...I'm already dreading sleeping without you."

“Oh thank God.” Dieter rolls his eyes in relief. “I was afraid I was going to look like an idiot rolling up to your house right from the airport demanding to take a nap with you.”

"You're an idiot if you think I'm not picking you up." Despite the fact that he has multiple people who work for him, you had fully planned on surprising him with an airport pick up yourself. There didn't sound like any better way to say 'welcome home'.

“Really?” He perks up and gives you a happy grin. “I would like that.”

"It was going to be a surprise, but..." you shrug, feeling a little more than giddy. "I'll come up with another surprise for you by then."

“You don’t have to surprise me.” He tells you shyly. He doesn’t really know how to deal with someone wanting to give him something rather than the opposite.

"I know that." He's cute when he blushes. Always has been. "But this is part of who I am: random acts of love for the people who mean the most to me. Just ask Steph."

“I don’t know what my love language is.” The idea that he even knows what love language is, is laughable. Only knows about it because of some conversation they had about love languages while they were on the Cliff Beasts set.

"Then I guess we'll find out together." Leaning your forehead gently against his, a broad smile spreads across your face for the first time since the words have been said. It's relief and joy and disbelief all mixed together. "Because I'm not going anywhere, babe."

“Jesus.” Dieter breathes out, breaking into a wide, happy smile. “I love you.”

“Not Jesus.” You correct teasingly, leaning into press a sweet kiss to his lips. “Gonna need you to learn my name, Hollywood.” It's not as though he hasn't said it a hundred times or more – as well as panted, moaned, whined, whimpered, and nearly screamed it. It's still fun to tease him.

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “I honestly thought you were going to leave me.” He admits quietly. “That I fucked up.”

"At this point I think we've weathered plenty enough storms. If one of us was really going to leave, we would have done it by now." Cozying into his chest is one of your favourite places to be, but you grin a little as you settle against the bulk of him. "Ya know, Nora asked me yesterday if we were going to get married. She'll never know she was one pregnancy scare away from getting her wish."

“She asked me the same thing when I was watching cartoons with her.” He admits with a chuckle. “Said that only married people kiss, and I like kissing you so I needed to marry you.”

"That's where she got it from." His chest rocks slightly with his laugh and it rolls through until you're both chuckling under your breath. "Kiddo is too smart for her own good."

“Yes, she is.” He huffs, bringing you both back to where you are laying on the bed with your feet hanging over the edge. Right now, he’s just happy that you don’t hate him for the fact you got high because of him. “Smart cookie.” He murmurs. “Like her Aunt Gigi.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat​ @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri    

YSV: @tortor-mcgee @hnt-escape​ @sammus-white​ @spanishmossmagnolia  @frasmotic @quietpainter    

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #Dieter Bravo x female reader #The Bubble #soulmate au #Enemies to lovers #Trash Can Man #tw drug use #accidental drug use

[p-taryn-dactyl]

So about Salem!Agatha could you do one where reader isn't a witch and they don't know that Agatha is, but somehow reader discover that Agatha is a witch and she thinks that reader will be mad or something but they are just curious/want to see what color it is some kinda of thing.

I really like your writing

Just in case you want to know it was me requested the spider!person and the "that's what she said"

a/n: hiii!! thank you so much <3 also omg, i loved those requests so much, “that’s what she said” made me laugh a lot while writing it (hopefully you laughed too??)

word count: 1.1k

warning(s): slight insecurity - that’s it, the rest is fluff

Normally, you would tell Agatha when you were visiting, a rule she had set at the beginning of your relationship. You never thought too much of it, you just assumed she was a messy person and had to clean up for a visitor.

But today, you wanted to surprise your girlfriend. You had made a basket for her, filled with homemade bread and fresh flowers you had picked from your garden, attracting the most beautiful butterflies. You hummed as you walked down the path overgrown with grass and tree roots, careful not to trip. The basket was nestled in the crook of your elbow, swaying slightly allowing the smell of lavender and bread to waft around you. The sun had started to dip slightly into the horizon, painting the sky with pink and orange hues. You still had flour on your cheeks and dirt under your nails from your long day of baking and planting but the only thing on your mind was finally seeing Agatha. She had been holed up in her cottage for days now, never leaving unless she needed to buy food or get water from the pump. Assuming she was under the weather, thats where you got the idea for a basket.

You saw Agatha’s cottage in the distance as the path came to an end. You cocked your head to the side when you saw a slight purple haze surrounding her home. Either the sun was casting illusions on your tired eyes or a migraine was soon approaching. Shaking your head, you blinked your eyes a few times, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the suns fading light. When the purple haze didn’t disappear, you groaned, thinking you were in for a long night with a pounding head. But when you were in front of your girlfriends door, you smiled. Headache or no headache, you were excited. When you raised your hand to knock, you realized the door was slightly ajar.

“Agatha?” You called out quietly as you pushed the door open, stepping into her home. You realized you were wrong with your assumption, Agatha’s home looking clean and put together as ever. Only one thing seemed out of place. The book on her table. You walked over as if you were in a trance, setting your basket down on the table.

The books pages were disintegrating but also reforming with every second, dark tendrils weaving in and out of the pages. You squinted slightly, attempting to read the words. You gasped once you realized what you were looking at.

A spell book.

A real spell book.

You had read Demonologie and other such witch inspired books but this…this seemed to radiate danger and power while the others merely held ramblings of scared men in power. You traced the book lightly with your fingers, as if it would disappear if you were too harsh.

“Oh my-” you whispered under your breath as it hit you what this could mean. Agatha was casting spells.

Agatha Harkness was a witch.

You heard a gasp behind you, followed by the sound of things dropping to the floor. You turned around, Agatha standing behind you with wide eyes going from the spell book on her table to you.

“Y/N, I-” she swallowed, her mouth going dry. She wasn’t expecting you today, she had planned to get this one incantation done before inviting you for a stroll later that week. Agatha had only left her table for a moment, going to the basement to retrieve the needed items for the spell. Those items were now rolling around near her feet as she stood frozen in fear.

You knew.

You knew she was a witch and she had no idea how you would react.

Sure, you spoke negatively about the witch hunters and their rigged trials meant to target women with minds or girls who refused a man but that didn’t mean you were okay with magic. Hell, you probably still believed it was a story used to scare children into following the rules, not a reality that helps the universe forge new outcomes.

“Agatha?” Your soft voice broke her out of her daze, reality snapping back to her. She quickly came over to the table, slamming the book shut and covering it protectively with her hands.

“It’s not what you- I mean, I can’t- You should go.” Agatha tripped over her words, trying and failing to not let her panic show. You stood calmly in front of her, watching her with new eyes as she looked everywhere but you.

“I understand if you don’t want to-”

“How do you do it?” You interrupted Agatha’s sad whisper, causing her eyes to snap towards you. She blinked rapidly, trying her best to absorb your words. A smile grew on your face at her confused expression. You came to stand in front of her, looking into her eyes.

“How does it work? Magic?”

Agatha watched as curiosity and excitement filled your eyes, taking on a childlike wonder. She smiled softly before taking your hand in hers as she dragged you to the middle of the room. She let go of your hand, bringing both her hands up in a way she would if she was holding something. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening her eyes. You gasped, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. Her eyes glowed a luminescent purple, overtaking the blue of her irises. You lowered your hand in wonder once you saw the magic swirling around Agatha’s hands, coming to form a small sphere of magic in between her palms.

“What does it feel like?” You whispered, holding back from reaching out to touch the magic. Agatha smiled, all her panic melting away. She transferred the ball of power to one of her hands, levitating it expertly. She took your hand in her free one, a mischievous look in her eyes.

“I can show you.”

You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion about to ask what she meant when a surge of energy went through you. Looking down, you saw Agatha’s magic swirling around you, seeping into your skin. You felt powerful, beautiful, untouchable. When she retracted her magic, you let out a laugh.

“Wow…thats- you feel like that when you do magic?”

Agatha nodded, about to respond, not expecting a hand to slap her shoulder. Her jaw dropped as she rubbed her shoulder, watching as you crossed your arms and pouted.

“I can’t believe you kept this from me! Gods above this is amazing!”

Agatha laughed at your pout before defending herself.

“Well, I didn’t know how you would react! What if you thought me a monster or even worse, broke up with me?”

You looked at her, biting your lip while shaking your head, looking up at the ceiling before setting your gaze on your girlfriend, who looked a bit anxious.

“I could never think you a monster or break up with you, you ding-dong! Now, tell me what is up with that freaky book because I’m pretty sure I saw it breathing earlier.”

a/n: i hope this was okay! I severely enjoyed writing this prompt and i hope you enjoyed it!! Thank you for reading 💜

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x gn!reader #agatha harkness fanfiction #salem!agatha #salem!agatha x reader

[therealjackdsaf]

Chapter 2. A new friend(?)

reposting chapter 2 bc the last time i uploaded it it got like 3 notes.

unreality, minor swearing

Alistor blinked their eyes as they felt cold water splash their face. “-nna? CC? You up?” That startled them. They jolted up to find a concerned-looking woman. She was short, pale, and had blonde hair tied up in a ponytail with a blue rubber band. Freckles dotted her face, and her eyes were a startling blue shade that would put the clear sky to shame. She wore a tacky lavender v-neck and low-rise jeans. She looked plain.

“Who the hell are you?!” Alistor snapped, glaring up at the lady. “How d’you know my deadname?”

“My name’s Lily!” She smiled. “I was your first official character. We haven’t talked in a while. What’s a deadname?”

Alistor’s face fell. Lily?! Her? Of all the characters they could’ve woken up to? They pinched their nose bridge and sighed. “Oh, great, you, hello Lily.”

“Me! Yeah!” She smiled and brushed off her previous question. “How are you?”

“Horrible,” Alistor replied, “My head is pounding. I don’t know where I am. Where are we?”

Lily’s face fell slightly. “Oh. I hope you feel better soon. Um, we’re in my house because I saw you knocked out outside, and I knew that someone would get you and kill you, and I didn’t want to see you die!”

“How thoughtful.”

“Thank you!”

Alistor rolled their eyes and stood up. “Do you plan to keep me here forever?”

“No,” Lily hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I mean, not unless you want to stay?”

“I do not.”

“Oh, all right.”

Alistor sighed and went to go sit down. Their face hurt, and they had a migraine. What happened? Did they fall on their face? Or-

“Do you want something to drink? I have water, lemonade, milk… It could help you feel better!” Lily smiled.

“Yeah, uh, water...” Alistor trailed off and looked out the window at the scenery outside. The grass was a neon teal, with a few bushes of a similar color dotting the landscape. The trees were small and cobalt blue, and the sky was a bright pink, fading to a pleasant yellow. There were no clouds, but one golden circle was in the middle of the sky. It had a large eye on it that was glancing around frantically. Alistor looked away, unnerved. 

Lily returned with a glass filled with ice and water. She placed it down in front of Alistor and smiled sweetly. “Here you go!”

“Thanks,” Alistor replied as they took the glass and drank from it. “Do you have any aspirin?”

“Maybe,” Lily hummed. “Let me check.” She quickly turned and walked out of the room again.

“... If Lily’s here… I wonder who else would be here… Mirror didn’t deny succubi and daemons and- Well, if Orona is here, then, surely, there has to be-”

Alistor’s thoughts were interrupted by Lily coming back into the room. “Nothing. Sorry, CC.”

Alistor grimaced at the nickname. “Call me Al.”

“Al? But how do you get Al from-”

“I have a different name now.”

“Oh. Okay! What’s your new name?”

Alistor sighed. “I go by Alistor. Not ‘CC’. Or the other name.”

“Okay!” Lily smiled brightly. “I’ll call you Alistor!”

“Thank you.”

“Of course!”

Alistor turned the cup slightly, sighing. “So… Where are we?”

Lily tilted her head, confused. “I already told you? We’re in my house.”

“No- I meant, like, general location.”

“Oh! Um, I’m not sure the place, but all I know is that we’re on land owned by… His name was 6?”

Alistor paused. “6?” Lily nodded. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s what his name was.”

Alistor looked up at her. “Does- Does 6 have any siblings?

“3, I think…?” Lily trailed off. “Why?”

Alistor stood quickly.

Lily looked at them. “Why are we… What’s up?”

“I have to go. Now,” Alistor quickly walked to the front door.

“Wait, what? No! You can’t be going already! You basically just got here, you only recently got around-” Lily stated, worry clear in her voice.

“I’m already gone!” Alistor opened the door to the protest of Lily and stepped outside.

#angels advocate #Alistor - angels advocate #Lily - angels advocate #6 - angels advocate #Mirror Realm #my writing #writing #chapter 2 #fucking read this please

[dragonclawzzz]

Every day there is a different type of yogurt parfait. These ones were so cute

PTA meeting tonight, our treasurer can't make it and I'm annoyed because she's been on vacation for the last week and is our main school contact so I just feel very up in the air about the Color Run situation tomorrow

One of the food trucks backed out and I'm debating if we should sell pizza, which we did last year but didn't want to do this year because it's a whole big thing plus need volunteers to sell concessions then and I don't have any volunteers so..guess y'all gonna be stuck with a large line at the one food truck we got.

Last night Marc was gone for 3 hours on a bike ride, got home and was like oh why are you in a bad mood. Because I had a panic attack and then I got migraine and I've been dealing with these kids that have a million issues while you take the longest bike ride you can and be completely unreachable.

This morning I woke up at 6:15. I was like, oh great I'll have an hour alone to drink my coffee and stare into space. By 6:30 Marc was up and trying to talk to me, then Charlotte comes in and is like, there's a bunch of ants in the bathroom?? And then I had to deal with that.

[kamileai]

UNERASABLE SMILE - part 2

pairing: miguel o hara x gn!reader

synopsis: what starts as an humiliating attempt at a confrontation, and ends with being so entranced you just cant wipe that smile off your face.

content warning: mentions predatory behavior and non-consensual touching. if you are sensitive to that type of content, please skip the section. it's only mentioned briefly.

word count: 2,127

a/n: i havent written or opened tumblr in weeks so the next part will come out some time in the far future since i really have no schedule

The subways. Waiting for your next train was like the flip of a coin. You could either be treated to an empty and more relaxing train ride, or a bumpy one with crowds of people all fighting for a pole, or if you're lucky maybe a pole to hold onto. It was like a game of chance since you never really knew what you had coming unless you had one of those MTA apps. But even then, sometimes they weren't all that accurate.

However, it was a rare occurrence for you to even have access to walk around on the train. Most definitely because the station that you got on was the busiest station of them all. The Times Square-42nd Street Station. The bank you worked at just had to be near Times Square, a place where the screens are so bright it could give you a migraine. Or the fact that tourists from all around the world choose it as their vacation destination. While you were sort of a tourist for a few weeks, you've adapted fairly well. Sure, sometimes having to transfer trains is confusing and annoying, but if you've made it this far then surely you're doing something right.

Today you were a little lucky.

It was dark outside. Well, only the sky since the lights from all the colorful billboard screens plastered onto the buildings illuminated the city. You'd made your way down to the drab and wet subway station, heading down a flight of stairs to where you'd wait for the train to come. 5 minutes passed and a train came, instead of the usual N that you get on, it was an R train. Then the F, and then an E train. It took a few more trains to pass by till yours came. And once it did, it was fairly empty. Not too many empty seats, but enough. About 3 or 4 but that was really good in comparison to how congested the trains you normally got on were. You sat down, putting your bag on your lap as the train's doors closed and began moving to the next station. You looked through the window across from you, the view of the train speeding across the dark tunnels being blocked by the heads of the people sitting in front of it. The whoosh and zipping of the train had you almost entranced for a moment, mesmerized by the faint glow of the lights that crossed as the train continued to move. 10 or 15 minutes passed, you couldn't remember, but now the light was mixing in with the dark, getting brighter and brighter till the train came to a halt. The doors slid open as the sign that wrote the name of the next station was blocked by the large crowd of people. In barged through a large crowd that was so large that it looked like it could cover an entire country. The seat next to you was filled, and you could feel how hard the man next to you was staring at you. His gaze felt predatory and you adjusted yourself in your seat, squirming from the intense looks. His knee just kept brushing up against yours, till his hips and thighs were right next to yours. Your eyes darted around, searching for somewhere to sit, or stand. You were desperate to get away, and your eyes eventually landed on a space that was covered with a coat. You couldn't really tell whose coat it was since the person next to it was blocked by the person standing in front of them. With some effort and hast, you made your way to the seat only to realize who it was. The obnoxious prick from the coffee shop. You groaned, but a familiar face and someone that you could only assume was harmless was much better than having to sit next to a creep for an hour. After mustering up whatever courage you had left, you tapped him on the shoulder, pulling him away from whatever he was doing on his watch. "Uhm, can I sit there?" You tried to be as gentle as you could when on the inside you were screaming and sobbing. His eyes went up to yours, a blank expression on his face turning into a subtle grimace. "Oh, do you usually sit here? Sorry, didn't know you owned this seat too." His tease didn't seem so playful, not at all. The way he spat those words out felt like a snake shooting venom. It was disrespectful, but you didn't want to lash out at him. Especially since you really needed to sit there. You gave a tight-lipped smile and a dry laugh. "Please." While you felt like he didn't deserve your plea or your kindness, even if it was half-assed, it was necessary. He looked up at you and returned the feigned smile, moving his coat into his lap as he patted the seat next to him. He watched as you sat down and scooted over so that there'd be distance between you both.

"Thank you." A sigh of relief escaped you, since now you didn't have to feel worried about anything happening to you. While he was a stranger, you'd spoken to him enough to know that he most likely didn't roll like that.

He hummed in response, continuing to fidget around with the watch on his wrist in silence.

An hour was a while, and you had a little social battery left. Reluctantly, you spoke. "I never got a name from you." You turned your head to look up at him. Even while sitting his head towered over yours. "I'm not telling a stranger my name." The corner of his upper lip twitched up as if instinctively. "I've spoken to you more than once."

"Twice isn't enough. I don't know who you are." He looked at you once, his eyes peering through yours before he faced forward again. "Sure, but it’s only fair that I know who I apologized to." You didn’t turn around, your attention locked on him as he took a few seconds to answer.

He turned to look at you a few seconds after. “So when you bump into people on the street you ask them for their name first and then apologize?”

“No, that’s not what- You know what I mean.” Your eyes narrowed. “I’ll give you my name, you tell me yours.”

“I don’t want your name though.” He rolled his eyes, not paying attention to you anymore.

“Okay, well you’re gonna get it anyway.” You gave him your name, but he didn’t really look like he cared since he didn’t look at you once.

“I legit don’t care. You’re really annoying.” The way he spoke and insulted you was way more annoying than you were being right now. The nonchalant tone was getting old, since the constant annoyance from him wasn’t getting you anywhere.

And how were you being annoying if you’re trying to be nice? You had the option to be rude but you weren’t.

A scoff escaped from your lips. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you. You’re not giving me anything to work with.”

“Maybe because I don’t want to talk to you?”

“Okay well at least be honest and say that. Don’t just insult me at every opportunity.”

“I am being honest.”

Your arms crossed and your temper was being pushed to its limit. It felt so aggravating to continuously be pushed away, but maybe, just maybe, he might be right to be annoyed. You two spoke twice, so the expectation for him to respond to you was pretty low. Nonetheless you still tried.

With a huff, you put your arms back around your bag. “Alright then.”

Minutes passed with the only sound being the trains movement, the quiet sounds of the train gliding along the tracks. Out of nowhere, he began to speak.

“A bank, huh.” He didn’t turn to look at you, so for a second you didn’t realize he was speaking to you.

“Huh?”

“The logo on your blazer or whatever. Wall Street Capital bank.” He looked down, pointing at the embroidery.

“Oh. Yeah. What about it?” You looked down, your finger running across the tight strings that formed the logo.

“Are you a bank teller?” You couldn’t really tell if he was disinterested since he had the same blank stare he always had. He was the one to start the conversation though, so maybe he was interested.

You nodded, pressing your lips before speaking again. “Yeah.”

He hummed. “That’s nice.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?” He furrowed eyebrows in confusion.

“I mean like what do you do for work?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m unemployed.”

It was your turn to hum so you did. “Ah. What about before?”

“Geneticist at Alchemax.”

“So you’re a scientist?” Your eyebrow raised in suspicion.

His eye rolled slightly, his lip twisting up. “I dabble nowadays. Sometimes.”

“Hm. That’s really cool. Handling genetics, snd stuff.” It made you feel a little small. Not physically, but in a financial sense. You weren’t in a bad financial situation, but it had its ups and downs.

Mostly downs.

He nodded. “It is.”

“Do you just walk around the city nowadays?”

“No. I only come outside when I can. So the two times you’ve seen me are during the times I can.”

“Ohh. Okay. I don’t get it, if you’re unemployed wouldn’t you be less busy?” It was confusing.

“Unemployment doesn’t mean someone can’t be busy.” He glared. The eye contact was terrifying, even if it happened once in a blue moon.

The train slowed down, the lights a bit more present even while dark. Everyone looked confused, heads tilting and darting around, murmurs and whispers filling the air.

He took a frustrated huff, having to be stuck sitting next to you for however long this train was going to be stuck for. The speakers boomed as the conductor’s voice rang through it, till it ended and everyone was left in confusion.

“Well, I guess we’re stuck here.” The awkwardness permeated between you two, becoming more and more apparent.

He sighed, looking at you for a moment before back forward again. “Guess so.”

The bottom of your shoes clacked together, the edge of your platformed heel intersecting as the silence grew louder. “How long have you been in New York for?” You looked up at him, interrupting the quietness he secretly didn’t want.

“What, do I look like a tourist?” His brows furrowed, feigning offense.

“No- I’m just asking.”

He sighed, as if being reminded of something. “I’m not. I’ve lived here since I was young.“ He looked back at you. “You?”

“I was a tourist.” You made sure to leave emphasis on the was. Even though you haven't lived here for long and still get lost occasionally on your way home.

“Ah.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

More silence between you two before you decided to speak again. “What stop do you get off at?”

“Bay Parkway.”

“That’s cool.”

“Not really. It’s just a stop.”

You rolled your eyes. “Can’t you give me something to work off of? It’s hard to keep a conversation with you.”

“Fine. Sure, it’s cool.” He rolled his eyes.

Your hand went up to your temples, your fingers rubbing to calm down yourself since at any moment you could lash out at him. Taking a deep exhale, you passively retorted, “You have a serious attitude issue.”

“You lack the ability to shut up.” He didn’t turn to look at you instead looking at you from his peripherals.

“And you can't be polite." The train started moving again and a simultaneous sigh of relief filled the bridge of silence between you two. Your arms crossed over one another. "I don't like you." You didn't mean for it to come out like that. Whilst you didn't like him, hated him actually, the words made you feel like a 4th grader upset at a classmate for snatching a pencil or something. His head slowly turned to you as his eyes followed soon after. "That's just childish." The train stopped, the MTA woman's voice reverberating around the train. He got up, dusting imaginary dust off his washed-out jeans before turning to look at you. "Miguel." Your eyebrows twisted, your nose scrunching as you tried to understand what he said. "What?" "My name." He reiterated. His head snapped to the door and then back to you, noticing that the doors could close in less than a second. "Have a good day." He muttered a small 'excuse me" to the people in front of him before squeezing through them and stepping out of the door as it shut right behind him. So he has a name.

#miguelohara #astv #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #spiderman 2099

[bengesko]

So my disability claim looks like it may go into appeals- I checked it on SSA and it went from 90% to "Undetermined," so I am not holding out hope that this will be resolved/approved soon (which is why I'm glad I got a lawyer, but it's still going to take a while.)

I need income, so I opened a patreon.

The benefits will include access to Spicy pieces I won't be posting anywhere else, free lineart that you can download and color, access to polls on my next pieces, designs, larger resolution pieces with a smaller watermark, and the higher tiers get a free sketch/colored sketch each month!

My insurance doesn't cover a good deal of my medications and supplies- allergy medications, syringes/needles for my HRT, as well as medical THC (which I use to treat my insomnia and chronic migraines- my insurance only covers 70% of my migraine medications, leaving me to pay a 100$ copay, so it's simply cheaper to spend 40$ on a bottle of THC tinctures, which will last me 2-3 months.) 

Funds from this patreon will also cover the cost of food for my cockatiel, Gino, as well as allow me to rebuild my savings for his vet costs! (He's 34 and has some medical issues that require medication, as well.) 

Gino says thank you for looking, and hope you'll consider becoming a patron!

[soephiphany]

Hi :)

I wanted to start here by giving you some fic recs of some of my fav stories/mostly drabbles I've read here.

How I'm a slut for fluff, there'll be a lot of it, like, A LOT.

Favs of all : 🌼

Let me get started with the whole reason why I downloaded this app (I'm serious)

And also my boy Yoongi

The love of my life :

I actually started reading this at Wattpad and got so addicted that i needed more. Now I just can't stop thinking about it and everything i do reminds me of it. Yes. I'm yoongi biased (actually Yoonjin). 🌼

I actually don't know if I recommend some of if or just the whole page :/ everything it's just so beautiful lol I'll just rec my favs :)

Prepare yourself to suffer :

(i don't think I'll ever be able to look at rain in the same way. I highly agree it's cloud piss)

This one actually made me cry, it's so sweet. 🌼

This is CANDY SWEET. I love you @indgio, i love you lol

Okay. Here's more Yoongi stuff cause I'm whipped.

🌼

https://at.tumblr.com/poutyniall/i-was-thinking-about-how-yoongis-first-i-love/bdcy7bjab4ew

https://at.tumblr.com/your-daily-biaswrecking/yoongi-is-cooking-but-when-yn-comes-home-she/ja0kv6uny3ys 🌼

https://at.tumblr.com/ijungkooki/day-2-yoongiswitching-places/ny5f0p8u0dkg

https://at.tumblr.com/bluewhale52/almost/y5ce8kgs0fbq

https://at.tumblr.com/poutyniall/i-can-see-yoongi-as-the-type-of-boyfriend-to-in/odvl5fyz4052

https://at.tumblr.com/jjkeverlast/colorful-lines-myg/gaf8tgvj6t8b

https://at.tumblr.com/norcula/a-drabble-series-involving-min-yoongi-and/jtvv1yk9yhmn 🌼

https://at.tumblr.com/yoongiphoria/sweet-toothache-myg/mzzf51zak4ih

https://at.tumblr.com/indgio/1643-myg-yoongi-cant-help-the-smile-that/peeguu80eyy9 🌼

https://at.tumblr.com/kookiesbuckethat/yoongi-x-freader-genre-angst-to-fluff/h8m5nexhz3a1

https://at.tumblr.com/namfinessed/genre-major-angst-fluff-second-chance-romance/0gcij73hmj0n

https://at.tumblr.com/blue-jisungs/poor-kitty/3q79j8mdd9wu 🌼

https://at.tumblr.com/eoieopda/can-i-request-a-drabble-with-darksidedyoongi/t1fedf3mf9zf

https://at.tumblr.com/herecomesjoon/a-lovely-thing-to-wake-up-to-this-is-very-sweet/ng38zcxflff2

https://at.tumblr.com/justanotherstarlightmonger/ice-cream-makes-everything-better-myg/5y9881zdqlxm

(i relate a lot to this one, since i have migraines)

https://at.tumblr.com/sailoryooons/hi-for-your-writng-event-id-like-to-request-a/7vypphp1hs2f

https://at.tumblr.com/kooksbunnnn/helping-hands-min-yoongi/p1ixviegnkth 😳

https://at.tumblr.com/champagneher/midnight-kiss-min-yoongi-based-on-them/7k7scbx7nv

https://at.tumblr.com/yoonlattesworld/purity/5fwfb2swa1ux 🌼🌼🌼

https://at.tumblr.com/yoonlattesworld/having-a-bad-anxiety-attack-while-yoongi-holds-you/m31dbzqmdibl

https://at.tumblr.com/yoonlattesworld/his-world/tqqfdz999v6f

https://at.tumblr.com/parkdatjimin/i-finally-have-my-request-what-about-ancient/xttd74l2xrg3 🌼

https://at.tumblr.com/aphrodijin/swing-life-away-min-yoongi/oaq9s6tj3u8u 🌼

https://at.tumblr.com/jjkeverlast/unexpected-lovers-myg/eqqmw26aq5sl 🌼

(This was way much prettier, i promise. It's just the third time I'm doing it, so my small patience is running out)

NOW... (for the third time) I'll recommend some profiles i LOVE

@indgio love you

@jjkgyu i love their reacts so much

@bangtan-sonyeonddaeng i highly recommend this for the ppl who like BTS reacts

@jjkeverlast yeah. Just yeah. I don't really know what to say lol ... Borahae haahah

@personasintro MIMI HAS MY SOUL.

And last but really not least: @onlyswan ... They have me entire heart for themselves. Thank you, just ... Thank you lol. I love SO much their drabbles and they make me so happy and comforted. I slept at 2am yesterday cause I couldn't stop reading fluffy Jungkook lmao

Well... Guess this is it (and i really hope this time Tumblr helps me ;-;) this was basically me being a simp for the boys, mostly Yoongi ahahaha

Enjoy these Yoongi, (a little bit of) OT7, and the biggest bias wrecker of my life: Jeon Jungkook:))

That's it! I hope you enjoy these stories as much as i did ☺️

See you next time <3

- Soo Soo 🌼

#i cried with almost all of these but I'll blame it on my period #bts fluff #fluffy fluffs #bts ff #bts x reader #bts #bts yoongi #bts fanfction

[ladykailitha]

All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 3

The part you’ve all been waiting for. Steve and Eddie! We also get the explanation of Edith’s names. True story: A friend of mine got his girlfriend  pregnant and she called their daughter Josephine, but he HATED it, so when they broke up, he started calling her Jo to piss the mom off because she hated the nickname.

Part 1 Part 2

***

Eddie Munson got out of his car and was impressed by the members of Harri’s band. It was four member group with a guitarist, a bassist, a drummer and a keyboardist. Not quite like his boys, but they seemed like they knew what they were doing.

He opened his mouth to say hello when he stopped dead in his tracks. Standing up from the drum kit was the female version Steve Harrington. Down to the honey colored hair, the hazel eyes, and the freckles. Her hair was shorter than Steve ever kept it, one side half-shaved and the half over her left eye, but it was the same wild locks that made Steve famous in school. He quickly took a couple of pictures with his phone before his son spotted him.

“Dad!” Harri cried, practically throwing himself at his dad.

Eddie gave him a big hug. 

“Sweet place you’re friend’s got here,” he said, looking around the garage, slipping his phone into his back pocket. The house couldn’t have been further from the Harrington place in Loch Nora. It was warm browns and cool blues. And that was just what he could see of the garage.

“Come meet her,” Harri said bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. “She kicks ass.”

Eddie laughed and allowed his son to drag him over to the drum kit. “You know Mandy, and this Kenny Grant. And this is the queen of the castle, Miss Thing.”  

Edith laughed and shoved her sticks back into the bucket she kept close by. “Hi, Mr Munson.” She stuck out her hand for him to shake and he took it.

“What’s with the moniker?” Eddie asked, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grin.

“Most of my friends call me Miss Thing because when I was little I was mute and I loved the Addams Family movies, so because I could sign Uncle Dusty called me Miss Thing,” Edith explained. “But everyone else calls me Edie.”

Eddie’s grin grew bigger. “Edie, huh?”

“My full name is Edith Barbara Harrington,” Edie explained. “My dad wanted to name me Lilian, but my mother overruled him. So when she fucked off, Dad started calling me Edie to piss her off.” She pursed her lips and looked at the ground. Eddie was struck by how much she looked like Steve. “At least he got to chose the middle name.”

Eddie’s smile grew fond. “Barbara’s good name.”

Edie just shrugged her shoulders, “Aunt Nancy was pissed Dad got to it first. But as Dad pointed out she told everyone who would sit down for longer than five minutes that she wasn’t going to have kids so...”

“So your dad won that argument,” Eddie finished. “Losing once and while is good for her.”

Edie laughed. “That’s what Dad said. So when her and Uncle Jon had a little girl while doing some expose in Europe somewhere, she stole Lilian from him.”

Eddie chuckled. “Sounds about right.” He looked around. “I want to let you kids get back to practicing so where’s your dad?”

Edie jerked her thumb at the house. “If it’s as bad as it looked, just follow the sounds of retching, you’ll find him.”

Eddie nodded and made his way to the house but as he turned she could have sworn Mr Munson said, “Still getting migraines, the poor bastard.”

Once he was gone Edie turned to Harri. “Does your dad already know my dad?”

Harri frowned. “I’ve never heard my dad mention a Steve or even the last name Harrington in my life.”

Edie looked at the door that led to the house in confusion. “And I’ve never heard of the name Munson before either.” She turned to him. “What did you say your dad’s first name was?”

“I didn’t,” Harri said with grim expression. “It’s Edmond, but everyone calls him Ed or Eddie.”

Edie’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit. No wonder I’ve never heard the name before.”

Harri just nodded.

Mandy spoke up. “Hey, guys can we get back to practice?”

Harri and Edie looked at each other and then nodded.

*

Eddie heard the retching and his heart ached. He hadn’t thought about Steve Harrington for years. Not since Jay’s funeral. They had fallen out long before then, but Steve had been on his mind that rainy day in Hampshire. Mostly cursing him, but a thought nonetheless.

But now he was so far from that man that knelt there sobbing in the rain begging for Jay to come back, maybe this was the universe’s sign that it was time to mend bridges.

He found Steve right where Edie said he’d be, curled in front of a toilet retching his very empty guts out. He crouched down to the side of him and tapped his shoulder.

“Harri?” Steve murmured.

Eddie huffed out a laugh and signed. “Flatterer.”

Steve rolled over to prop himself against the side of the tub and looked at him more closely. “Eddie?”

Again he signed, “Where’s your hearing aid, rock star?”

“On the sink,” Steve muttered. “And I can hear just fine out of my right ear. It’s just the left one that’s a bitch.”

Eddie laughed and reaching behind him grabbed the aid off the vanity top and put in his pocket. “I don’t think you want this to fall into the toilet or the sink for that matter.”

“Dustin would kill me,” Steve agreed warily.

Eddie flushed the toilet and got a washcloth wet. He handed it to Steve.

Steve flushed a bright pink and used it wipe off his face and some of his shirt where he hadn’t made it to the bathroom in time. He washed his hands and threw it in the laundry basket.

“You know I used to make jokes about basketball being nothing more than shooting balls into laundry baskets,” Eddie teased. “Way to prove me right, Harrington.”

Steve gave a half smile. “Don’t make me laugh, I’ll throw up again.”

“And we definitely don’t want that,” Eddie agreed. “Do you think you’re done with your porcelain throne, your majesty?”

Steve rubbed his face and looked down awkwardly. “If you mean to ask if I’m done throwing up, I should be.”

It came out harsher than he meant to, but he didn’t need Eddie bringing up King Steve, not now.

Because he was looking down he missed the flicker of emotion skitter across Eddie’s face.

“Can you stand?” Eddie asked softly.

Steve tried but ended up lurching his direction instead. Eddie scrambled to catch him.

“Whoa there, Harrington,” Eddie murmured. “I’m going to help you up and then get you to your bed. Please tell me it’s not upstairs.”

“It’s not,” Steve murmured. “It’s just down the hall, third door on the left.”

Eddie got his arms under Steve and lifted him to his feet. He propped him against the wall and then lifted him bridal style. Steve merely moaned and buried his aching head into Eddie’s neck to block out the light that would hit his face once they exited the bathroom.

“All right, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Steve nodded.

Eddie slipped out of the bathroom and followed Steve’s directions to the bedroom. The door was open so Eddie was able to walk right in without disturbing Steve.

The room was a far cry from the soulless monstrosity that was Steve’s teenaged bedroom. It was blues and greys and soft downy covers. He had pictures of Edie on his night stand and a large white wardrobe.

“Can you make it to the bed if I set you in front of it?” Eddie murmured.

“I should be able to,” Steve said, strained. “I just had a hard time getting up because I’d been on the floor for so long.”

Eddie pursed his lips. Yep. Yep, that was more likely than Steve not being able to walk. Yep.

“But thanks for the assist,” Steve continued, oblivious of Eddie’s internal panic.

Eddie gently let him down and waited until Steve was able to stand on his own before letting go. Eddie turned down the covers and Steve slid in with a sigh of relief. Eddie draped the blankets over him and tucked him in. He pulled out the hearing aid and placed on the nightstand next to Edie’s picture.

“I’ll send Edie to check on you when they’re done with their practice,” Eddie said softly.

Steve nodded and Eddie turned to leave.

“I didn’t name her after you, you know,” Steve whispered.

Eddie’s shoulders sagged and turned back to face him. “So she said.”

“The nickname though...” Steve said with a chuckle.

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

Steve snuggled further into the pillow. “Mhmm. Did it to piss Addison off.”

There was a story there, Eddie could tell but he didn’t want to press Steve while he was in pain.

“Go to sleep, rock star,” Eddie said instead.

And as he closed the door, Eddie swore he heard Steve murmur, “I missed you.”

*

Eddie pulled out his cell phone and pressed and held down the number two.

“Eddie!” Dustin greeted. “How are you on this fine spring evening?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Eddie said in that tone that immediately set Dustin’s teeth on edge. It was the tone that said something had gone horribly wrong and it was up to Dustin to fix it.

“What’s up?” he asked, his voice cracking a bit.

“Well, Uncle Dusty,” Eddie said with a malicious grin on his face. “You’ll never guess where I am.” He turned his phone around and sent the two pictures to him.

“Hold on I got a couple pictures here...” Dustin said trailing off. “Holy fucking shit! Is that Harri with Edie Harrington? At Steve’s house?!”

“It most certainly is,” Eddie continued. “Would you care to tell me why I wasn’t informed OUR KIDS WENT TO THE SAME SCHOOL!” he whisper-screamed, knowing that Steve was just down the hall and his kid was in the garage.

Dustin pulled the phone away from his ear and rubbed his ear with his finger. “Sheesh, dude. You’re loud. Even when you’re trying to be quiet.”

Eddie pushed his fingers into his eye as he fought to tamp down on his temper. “Dustin...” he said, slow, dark and sharp.

“Look, man,” Dustin said. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I warned you that if you moved back to Indy there was a chance you’d see Steve. And as for your guys’s kids going to the same school, you had to know that was possibility. You moved into the richest neighborhood. Which is where Steve has lived for the last five years.”

Eddie ground his teeth and seethed. Because Dustin was right, the little butthead. He had been warned. A lot of people had warned him.

“Fuck!” Eddie hissed into his phone. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t uproot Harri again. It’d kill him.”

“So don’t,” Dustin said. “You don’t have to interact with Steve outside your kids being in the same band and going to the same school. I don’t think my Mom and Joyce ever spent more than five minutes in each others’ company at time and they liked each other.”

“I don’t think I can do it,” Eddie whispered. “When I came over he was in the throes of one of his migraines and from the look of it, it was one of the bad ones. You know what a bleeding heart I am...”

Dustin sighed. “So you helped with a migraine. You remembered how to do it. Congrats. I still don’t see how you can’t just avoid him in the future. You know,” he said bitterly, “like you have for the last twenty years.”

“Hey,” Eddie bit out. “You know why. You fucking know why.”

Dustin scoffed. “And I still think it’s bullshit. So go on then, why can’t you ignore him now?”

Eddie took a deep breath and let out in a shuddering sigh. “As I was leaving after helping him get back to bed, he said...”

“Wait, wait, hold up,” Dustin said. “You helped him to bed?”

“Fuck, Dustin,” Eddie snapped. “Not like that. I just made sure he didn’t fall down.” Which was a lie. But that’s what Dustin got when he insinuated there was more to it than that. “Anyways, he said that he missed me and that though Edith wasn’t his choice, calling her Edie was definitely in honor of me. How the hell am I supposed to walk away from that?”

There was silence on the line for a moment or two and Eddie thought he’d lost the connection.

“No,” Dustin agreed, soft and solemn. “I don’t think I would’ve been able to walk away either.”

“What do I do?” Eddie whined.

“I think you know what to do,” Dustin said. “Stop running away.”

Eddie let out another shuddering breath. “Yeah. It’s time.” 

***

Part 4 Part 5  Part 6 Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11  Part 12  Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16 Part 17  Part 18  Epilogue

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