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#something else that’s important to note
polyo-nym-y · 2 days
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Bon Appétit~
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Alastor x Female!Reader
| Warnings: 18+ content. MDNI!! ooc Alastor, established relationship(kinda), quick smut with no plot, biting, blood, cunnilingus, fingering, hair tugging etc |
Hello, I’m Nym! This is my first time posting my writing ever!
This horny little community has me so inspired I couldn’t help but write something small. (4,666 words to be exact ;3 tried to get the funny devil number).
Also fair warning I wrote this a bit intoxicated so I apologize if it’s poorly written. But I hope you heathens enjoy it nonetheless <3
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Alastor retired to his tower as soon as the sky turned to a dark burgundy. He sat on his bench in front of his radio equipment. Fountain pen in hand and eagerly doodling away with a calm smile. Coat retired to its stand and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Finding these late nights to be rare moments when he could allow himself to relax.
Though both his pen and music paused as he heard the trap door rustle behind him. “Hm?” Amused, he set his pen down and sits up from the bench. Coming around to the hatch he stood right beside it. A deep inhale taken as his grin grew recognizing the familiar smell of you. Bending at his hips as one hand swiftly opened the door. The other hand held out to offer assistance to his surprise guest.
The sudden opening of the hatch earned a gasp from you. Nearly losing your grip on the metal bars that you climbed up. You blinked at the hand offered to you before smiling and accepting the help eagerly.
“Now what do I owe this pleasure?” His usual cheery showman tone buzzed in your ears. With ease, he helped pull you up through the trap door, kicking it closed after. His eyes curiously noted the wicker basket you held in your other arm. “Well no wonder you had difficulty coming in!”
You chuckled nervously as he immediately points out the basket you brought. But what else did you expect? It’s Alastor, perceptive as ever. “The climb wasn’t so hard but by the time I had reached the door I was pretty tired…” you admitted with a glance running up his unusually relaxed form. His grin somehow managed to only make your own smile increase. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important. I couldn't sleep and thought I could just drop in and say hello!" You watched as one of his brows rose, earning an audible swallow from you. "Well, actually, I haven’t seen much of you today... or this week really. So I was honestly getting a bit curious about what you've been up to.” You wiggled the basket to him before setting it down on a small side table. “This is my apology for bargin’ on in.”
“Like always I appreciate your honesty, dear.” He folded his arms behind his back as he followed you to the table. With your back turned to him he took the time to slowly look you up and down. Noting the sweet white nightgown you wore that ended right above your knees. Your hair was tied back in a loose bun and you were wearing your slippers. All of this told him you really were in bed before deciding to come to him. His thoughts hesitated when he watched you open the basket. Pulling out a glass decanter of whisky and two matching cups to go with it.
You turned to face him, jumping slightly when you realized he had moved so close to you. With a laugh you waved him off. “Why don’t you put on some tunes for us, yeah?”
A staticky hum left him as he watched you for a few more seconds. He’d nod softly before spinning on his heels to do as you requested. One hand manually turning the music back on while the other subtly snapped behind his back. The music loud enough to just barely cover the sound of the hatch door locking.
He leaned against the desk of his radio station and watched you again. His grin soft as he couldn’t help but relax even more with the jazz on. “So! You really don’t have anything you wanted to talk about? Truly just stopping by to see what I’m doing ?” He pushed, teasingly.
You poured each other a glass before approaching him with his. He nodded in thanks as he took it from you. “Ha ha! No...” You stood in front of him with both hands nervously around your cup. His pointed questioning had you avoiding eye contact as you downed the small drink in one gulp. Fighting to not contort your face from the bitter taste.
He couldn’t help but laugh into his glass as he brought it up to his lips. “Really?” You caught his piercing gaze that was sent over the cup, before you watched him take a sip. “Because a nice glass of rye, jazz and sweet company.” He stares into his glass before flicking his gaze down to you again. “I really can’t help but feel like you’re trying to sweeten me up~”
The look he sent down had heat quickly washing over your body. Feeling the warmth settle on your cheeks and between your hips. He was teasing you but he didn’t seem upset by your presence. That thought seemed to encourage you, though you definitely needed another drink before you spilled your guts.
A nervous smile being sent to him as you put your finger up. “One- one moment.” You quickly approached the decanter where you left it on the side table. Your cup was filled with just a shot as you quickly knocked it back.
He finished his own drink before mindlessly setting the empty cup on the desk behind him. His smile stretched into a wide grin as he watched you desperately try to gain some liquid courage. He could easily help you right now, as he had an assumption on what this was about. There was no denying the odd connection the two of you had developed during your time here. Unfortunately, he was thoroughly enjoying watching you squirm and he was a very patient man when it came to torture.
Which is exactly what this felt like to you, torture. Staring into the empty cup for only a moment longer before leaving it on the table with the basket. You took rushed steps back up to Alastor as you shot your gaze up to meet his.
“Go on, darling, speak your mind.” He encouraged you with a shit eating grin. Your embarrassment and nervousness began to twist and settle in your stomach.
“I…” you slowly started, watching him tilt his head. Your gaze quickly shot to the side as the rest of your words came out rushed. “I would like to touch you-“
His brows shot to his hairline as he stiffened. He knew your intentions were along these lines. However, the sudden bluntness still caught him off guard.
A nauseating silence settled between the two of you, save for the jazz that still played in the background. You began regretting saying anything as your mouth opened to try and form words. You wanted to take it back with every fiber of your being. Eyes still glued to anywhere that wasn’t him. “I-uh wait no. I don’t mean like that- well I wouldn’t mind but- what I mean is- look you don’t have to say anything I know it’s a strong no and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but I just needed to be honest-“
Alastors eyes never left you as he watched your reactions carefully. You never could lie to him and when you did it was never for long and never done well. So he knew your intentions were pure and your words were genuine. Usually, he wouldn’t even bother thinking it over. It never seemed of any interest to him in all his prior years of living and death. However, with you? He found himself weighing his options. Because he also wanted to touch you. He wanted to invade your personal space more than he would usually. You were different to him, it was apparent since day one.
“Alright.” he watched you snap your gaze up to him so suddenly he could’ve sworn he heard your neck crack. Shock written over your features as he pushed himself off from leaning against the desk.
“Wait, what?” You asked stunned as your eyes followed his movements. His body shifted slightly to the bench right beside him, smoothly lowering to sit.
“I’m giving you permission, my dear.” After making himself comfortable he motioned you to come closer. Obediently, you shuffled slowly up to him as he spoke again. “Although we will need to discuss terms first.”
You stopped a foot from his seated form. “Terms?” You questioned half listening. You were more focused on greedily taking in his relaxed state. Shamelessly appreciating the sight of him, no doubt thanks to the two drinks. Your eyes were on his lap, scanning down his exposed forearms and stopping on his large hands that ended with sharp red tips.
“Yes, darling, terms.” He noticed your eyes on other parts of him. Slightly bothered you weren't focused on what he was saying. His hand you were staring at quickly snapped at you and gestured to look up at him. “You didn’t think I’d give you such an honor without getting something in return, did you?” His words were laced with venomous mockery.
With your eyes now held with his you hesitated to speak. Feeling your cheeks start to burn more. “I didn’t.. expect to get to at all, so…” your words were so quiet and uncertain. His ears flicked atop his head as he tried to hear you clearly over the music.
“Speak up, dear, you must use your words properly if we are going to do this.” He leaned back into the bench as he glanced you up and down. Allowing you to deliciously simmer in your own embarrassment. “My terms are rather simple. If I allow you to touch me-“ he placed a hand against his chest. “Then it’s only fair I get to touch you too, right my dear?” Dramatically his hand flicked from his chest to gesture to you. Palm being held out for you to accept. “Deal?”
You swallowed dryly as you stared at his large hand. “You want to touch me?” Eyes flicking between his black palm and his red half-lidded gaze. “And we get like.. free roam? Touch.. anywhere?” The mere thought of having his hands on you had you pressing your thighs together. In this moment, you would let him do anything he wanted to you without hesitation. What you were really worried about was his comfort. If you were to upset him by making him uncomfortable, you’d want to die, again.
A static heavy chuckle was forced from him. The fingers on his outstretched hand flexed impatiently. “I wouldn’t say it’s a want from me.” He lied. “Rather so, curiosity? Yes, let's call it curiosity.” Even now he was going to ensure he had the upper hand. “But if you don't want me touching you and you’d rather just chinning*..” his offered hand curled his fingers in and then withdrew to his lap. “No skin off my nose, dear.”
Physically witnessing his hand draw back had panic rising in you. Like this rare opportunity was about to be lost forever. He watched amused as your eyes widened and you stumbled forward slightly with the force in which you spoke. “NO-“ you both cringed at the sudden rise in volume. “No- I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want you to- it’s quite the opposite actually..”
He watched you shuffle closer until your knees hit his. Again, he noticed your gaze lingered on other parts of him rather than his eyes. “Then spill. What do you want?”
You chewed nervously on your bottom lip. “I.. I want your touch on me, Alastor. More than my want to touch you. You’d turn Hell into Heaven if I could only have your attention on me..” His smile widened when you finally raised your eyes to meet his again. “But I’m worried about upsetting you, Alastor. Having permission to freely touch you seems…too good to be true? And to hear you intend to touch me as well? Whether it’s a want or just curiosity I could care less. Fuck, Al, I’ll feed that curiosity however you want.”
A genuine and loud laugh rumbled from his chest. “Oh ho! what a desperate and pathetic display you are giving me.” He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes on you. “What can I say? I suppose I’m feeling rather charitable tonight.” Slowly he leaned forward, his hands sliding down his thighs. His fingers gently wrap around your wrists. Watching carefully for any resistance to his touch. “And I promise, Mon Cher, I’ll let you know if I don’t like something. So you needn’t worry about upsetting me.” Truthfully, he’d be quick to wrench your hands away from any area he didn’t like. “You’ll do the same for me, right?”
With a sneaky smirk he brought your hands to his face. Gently grazing his lips across your knuckles. You couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine as you watched him breathlessly. To his surprise though you shook your head no. “I won’t need to.”
A sadistic glint shined in his ruby eyes as he smirked against your hands. The gentle kindness he planned on showing you began to slip. “Oh? Is that so?” A sudden yank of your wrists had you falling into his chest. His warm hands glided down from your wrists to help guide your knees on either side of him. He fussed with your positioning until he was satisfied with your thighs straddling his lap. Taking a gleeful glance at your flustered expression and rigid body. “You sound so certain. What if I wanted to eat you whole? What would you say then?”
He leaned back into the bench as he observed you intently. Heat settled over your entire body as you stiffly fidgeted on top of him. Embarrassed, you didn’t want to rest your full weight on him. But his hands had a firm grip on your hips, pressing you down ever so slightly to keep you in place.
Sweaty hands hesitantly came to rest on his chest, fingers gently crawling up to the top of his shoulders. “What would I say?” your words slipped from your lips like a whisper. Your desire and need for him outweighed your nerves drastically. His hands squeezed the flesh at your hips when he felt you finally relax into him. Entranced, he watched a soft smile settle on your face before you spoke. “Bon Appétit.”
Chest heaving, nostrils flaring and eyes like a hungry animal. With those words, something snapped in him. It quite literally took everything in him in that moment to not simply swallow you whole right then and there.
His jaw clenched as a loud static began to swarm around the two of you. He felt his mouth water as he swallowed, having to clear the excess saliva that pooled around his tongue. Savor her, he repeated in his head, you must savor your meal. The buzzing static overtook the music completely until it disappeared with a loud pop, earning a flinch from you. His mouth opened with a purr “Merci.”.
Your breath hitched as he leaned down to close the space between you two. His warm lips ghosted across your own, so close yet so far. Every coherent thought you once had was muddled and drowned. The unexpected intimacy that Alastor was giving you had your heart hammering against your ribs. In that moment you decided firmly, you’d completely give in to him and this desire.
One hand of his shifted from your hip and up your side. Talons trailing up until his fingers laced in your hair, pulling the tie that held it up. As you felt your hair fall freely you tried to close the space between you completely. Lips hungrily wanting to capture his.
He was quick, however, as the hand that remained at the back of your head tightened its grip. Fingers firmly tugging at the roots to guide your head back. A desperate whine leaving you as he forced your lips away from his. “What happened to both of us getting to touch? Or is kissing off limits?” You asked half joking as he dipped his head to place a soft kiss under your jaw. His lips settled comfortably on your now exposed throat as he inhaled deeply.
“You are touching, mon cher. A lot more than anyone else has.” He reminded you with a smirk against your flesh. You felt his lips part as warm breath ghosted the vulnerable skin of your throat. Your fingers trailed further up from his shoulders and up the back of his neck. You shuddered against him as his warm tongue licked a wet strip up. “I wonder, do you taste as delicious as you smell?”
“Al-“ you let out a sharp yelp as you feel a hot stinging pain begin to bloom on your shoulder. Instinctively, with your fingers in his hair, you tried to yank his head away much like he did to you. But he refused to be removed from his tasty meal. He let a low growl out with his lips still suctioned to you, a warning. You hadn’t expected him to literally taste you but it was foolish of you to expect anything less from a cannibal.
Your thoughts began to fog as you felt him suck the blood from your wound. His cock twitched beneath you as if the blood he drank from you went straight to his groin. Any previous intentions on partaking on your end of the deal was long gone. You couldn’t care less about where your hands were. The only thing that mattered now was that his hands remained on you.
You bit your lip trying to hold in the small yelps in pain as he attacked the wound he made. Prodding and poking trying to coerce as much blood as he could without literally tearing a chunk from you.
Desperately, needing more than just his feasting mouth, you rolled your hips against his. You stuttered your movements as he sunk his teeth deeper into you in response. Another whimper left your parted lips as his name tumbled out like a prayer. “Alastor-“
He sighed through his nose, having to will himself to release your tasty flesh. Slowly blinking his eyes open as he lifted up with a suctioned pop. Leaning back to take in the beautiful sight of your bloody and bruised shoulder. He watches closely as beads of red quickly begin to pool and drip over your collar bone. Bleeding into the pure white of your nightgown.
“Beautiful, Mon Cher, absolutely beautiful.” His lips parted to show a bloody grin. His eyes were glazed over as if the taste of you was more intoxicating than the drink he had a moment ago. “You did so good.” You felt his grip in your hair loosen as his fingers brushed through. With his now free hand he began to smear the blood on your shoulder, earning a wince from you. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” His hand cupped your cheek and you could feel your blood sticking your flesh to his, like glue. He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb as he brought his face close to yours again. “Do you want a taste?”
Before you could even begin frantically nodding, he already captured your lips in his. Pulling back just enough to use his thumb to wrench your mouth open. You gave him no resistance as he dove back in. His tongue eagerly exploring the entirety of your mouth. Spreading the taste of your own blood.
He swallowed a muffled moan as both hands slipped to your hips. Fingers digging into clothed flesh as he grinded you into him. “See?” His lips parted from yours with a pink tinged dribble of saliva connecting you to him. “Delicious, aren’t you?”
Quickly, you licked the bloody spittle on his lips. “If I say yes will you-“ a moan interrupted your sentence as his hands continued to grind you against his hardened cock. “-f-fuck please just fucking touch me-“
“I am touching you, mon cher.” His hands slowed to grind on him at an agonizing pace. The friction slick as you fully drenched your panties and began to seep into the front of his pants. “Remember, use your words.”
“Alastor, p-please-“ your words trembled as you tried to retain some sense of composure. But the teasing feeling of him beneath his pants was going to drive you insane. With a shaky breath you leaned away from him. One hand grasping the hem of your nightgown and yanking it up to your chest. Your other hand sliding fingers under the hem of your underwear to pull them down ever so slightly. His gaze shooting down immediately to take in the erotic sight of your pubic hair barely poking out. “Please just eat me already.”
“How could I say no when you’re pleading so sweetly?” In a blink of an eye he had his hands holding you against him. With a chuckle he stood from the bench, his hands cupping your ass to carry you with him. Your own hands quickly grab his shoulders to keep yourself from falling.
You’re swung around as you hear crashing behind you. Alastors shadow-y tendrils quickly swiping his desk clear in order to make space for you. A gasp leaving you as your back is dropped onto the hard surface with a thud. His hands holding your legs at his hips by the pits of your knees. His taller frame towering over you as you lay sprawled under him.
The grin that spread across his face had you squirming. His warm hands pull you by your legs until your ass is completely off the desk. With only your upper half resting against the hardwood, your stomach does flips, feeling like you’ll fall. But his hold on you is firm as he lowers to his knees. Effortlessly, your legs are settled over his shoulders. You’re practically panting in anticipation as you feel him chuckle against your inner thighs. “Nervous, dear? You’re shaking.”
“Shut up-“ A groan is ripped through clenched teeth as he sinks his teeth into the plump flesh of your right thigh. Hissing, you latch your hand into his hair. He gave no reaction to your grip as he enjoys lapping at the new wound. One of his hands sliding up to give your ass a good squeeze.
You hadn’t realized you were clenching your eyes closed until they flew open. Your back arching off the desk as your breathing hitched. The feeling of his warm tongue running up your clothed slit had you feeling sparks. The blood on his tongue seeped into the already damp fabric, adding another stain to you. “F-Fuck- Jesus Christ-“ he ran his tongue up again slowly, ending with a nice flick to your clit.
“Careful, if you moan other men’s names I’ll become rather jealous.” He hummed against your left thigh as he weaseled a hand between your legs. Sharp talons grabbing hold of the fabric of your underwear and tearing it enough to freely expose his meal.
It was a struggle keeping your eyes opened as you leaned your head forward. Freezing, as you were met with Alastors gaze sent over your exposed sex. He was watching you intently as he brought his face closer to your aching core. “I-I think I’d like to see you jealous.”
“I’m sure you would, you naughty thing.” Finally, without anything blocking his touch, you felt him lap his wet muscle up between your folds. A wispy moan leaves your lips as you remove your hand from his hair. Fingers reaching back to ground yourself against whatever you could on his desk.
The taste of you saturated over his taste buds as a pleased groan rumbled in his chest. His hands wrap around your upper thighs in order to hold you in place. His eyes flicked up trying to see what he could of your reactions. He gave up rather quickly though, losing himself to you fully now.
The juxtaposition of his agonizing teasing now being replaced with determined hunger was almost overstimulating. You couldn’t stop the shake in your legs as he twisted his tongue inside of you. The unnatural length of it reached further than you expected.
His name tumbled from your lips so sweetly it only made him crave your taste more. Fingers digging into your hips as he pressed his face deeper into you. Suffocating himself on your scent as his tongue twisted and flicked inside. When his nose pressed against your clit he felt your walls clench. A cheeky smirk forming against your lower lips. A shudder ran down your spine when you felt his tongue slip out from you. But you didn’t feel empty for long as he easily slipped a finger into you, a second quickly following. You felt yourself forgetting how to breathe as he ruthlessly pumped his fingers into your heat. Erotic squelching filled the small space of his radio room. You hadn’t realized until now that the music was off, ensuring he could hear every sound your body offered him.
His tongue lazily licked your juice from his lips as his eyes flickered between wanting to peer at your face and wanting to watch your sweet pussy taking his fingers so well. “Good girl. Such a good girl, my dear.” You were a moaning mess, unable to respond any other way to his praises.
Your entire body tensed as he brought his lips back to your needy cunt. His mouth suctioned around your sensitive clit. Tongue swiping and flicking, assaulting the bundle of nerves. His fingers stopped their pumping as he pressed as deep into you as he could, fingers bending and focusing on a specific spot. He hummed casually as if he wasn’t making you see stars.
Your body lurched forward as both hands flew to grip his hair. “F-FUCK- A-Ah fuck.” He felt your walls clench around his fingers, cock twitching knowing he had you on that cliff. “So close- please p-please-“
“Hm? Wanting to cum already?” His tone was patronizing as he lifted his mouth from you. A whiny sound coming from you as that build up dimmed slightly, keeping you just before that edge. “I’ll allow it. Only if you’re a good girl and say my name as you cum, understand?”
“Y-Yes- just please-please please-“ Another pleased hum rumbled from him as he lowered back to your sopping heat. His lips suctioned around your clit once more, continuing to stimulate both spots. It only took a moment longer and you finally reached your peak. “ALASTOR-“ A pathetic mewl ripped from your throat as it crashed over you in waves. Every muscle in your body tensed, walls clenching and twitching around his fingers as he helped you through your orgasm. His mouth popping off of you as he wore a wide smirk, lips and chin glistening from the mixture of you and his own saliva.
His fingers didn’t stop massaging your walls until he felt your body relax. Only then did he slip his digits out to greedily lick them clean. His tongue finds its way back to the bite on your thigh. Lapping at the wound while it was still weeping blood. “Thank you for such a delicious meal, my dear.” He would purr as you were still trying to catch your breath. Shifting he moved your legs off from his shoulders in order to stand back up. His warm hands wrapping your legs around his waist as he stepped forward leaning into you. He helps lift you up just enough to scooch you fully on the desk once more. Your eyes lazily watch him loom back over you as you try to sit up on your elbows. His smile devious as he slips his red talons under his suspenders, slowly slinking them off of his shoulders as he purred down to you. “What do you say, darling, are you ready for dessert?”
And you then knew that your night was far from over…
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*Chinning: 20s slang meaning ‘talking’.
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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 2 days
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What they're like when you're sick
Includes: Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Husk, Lucifer, Sir Pentious, Vaggie, Valentino, Velvette, and Vox
Warnings: None
Word Count: 858
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Alastor
He's indifferent and often times cruel, but if he cares about you, he's a real sweetie.
He'd bring you your favorite warm beverage.
He would cook something for you; probably something his mom made him when he was feeling under the weather as a child.
He'd check in to make sure you're resting. (You better be, or else.)
His shadow would keep you company, mostly keeping an eye on you while he's doing a broadcast.
He'd secretly be worried out of his mind, but he's to prideful to admit how much your wellbeing means to him.
Angel Dust
He's concerned as fuck; going as far as blowing off Val just to make sure you're okay.
Checks in every few hours with a new joke, just to see if you're well enough to react.
Let's you cuddle with Fat Nuggets while you sleep.
Have you eaten? Are you hungry at all? He'd grab you something quick from the kitchen, just say the word.
Watches movies with you until you pass out from exhaustion.
Practically shoves water and vitamins at you like he's a concerned mother.
Charlie
Nothing to her is more important than you getting better. Sorry world, that's just how it is.
She's practically perched at your bedside with vitamins, water, a fresh box of tissues, and a trash can.
Makes sure you eat at least one meal.
Let's you rest, but keeps close in case you need her.
Will do anything to make sure you're comfortable while your body works through the Hellish virus.
Keeps everyone else from bothering you.
Husk
He's worried about your wellbeing, but also knows you're not gonna drop dead on a whim.
Leaves crackers and medicine on your bedside table for whenever you wake up.
He conveniently only checks in when you're resting, just to make sure you're taking the recovery seriously.
Will make sure everyone knows that you're resting so that they'll try their hardest to not bother you.
Straight up goes 'dad mode' (as Angel calls it) if anyone makes a particularly loud noise that echoes off of the walls.
Sends you back to bed if you try to join everyone else. You need to rest.
Lucifer
Panics like he did whenever Charlie got sick.
Makes at least a dozen little ducks that resemble your personality so that you have his presence even when he's not in the room with you.
Brings you soup and your favorite hot beverage.
Warm compresses, warm blankets, cool room.
Gets absolutely anything you want.
Checks in on you religiously, but quietly so that he doesn't wake you.
Sir Pentious
He's literally probably the sweetest.
Will run to the store if you need something specific, no questions asked — would even leave the Egg Bois with you so you're not alone.
Has the basic necessities on hand.
Would fluff your pillows when you sat up to drink water.
Hungry? He's sending the Egg Bois downstairs to grab you something that you can eat.
He'd stay in the room and do his own thing, just to be close.
Vaggie
Is mad that you got sick, but is worried.
Would bring you your favorite sick soup if you said you were hungry. It's salty, but just what your body needs.
Death glares anyone who comes down the hallway too loud.
She would be distant, but still close by.
She's making sure your room's environment will help you get better. (Ex: cool air, warm blankets, closed curtains, etc.)
Will scold you if you get out of bed for anything other than the bathroom.
Valentino
He literally doesn't even notice at first, but once he does notice, he's sending someone to your room with your favorite hot beverage and antibiotics.
If anyone goes near your room that isn't him or the demon he's sending while he works, they're probably getting torn apart.
Every few hours, you'd wake up to find stuff on your bedside table that hadn't been there. Little trinkets, notes, and candies.
Threatens anyone who gets too loud.
At your bedside at the end of the day, making sure you drank something and at the very least took your vitamins.
Pushes you to eat something, while simultaneously leaving you alone to rest.
Velvette
You're sick!? This show is on hold until her favorite person is all better.
Refuses to go in the room without Hell's equivalent of Lysol on hand.
She comes bearing food and little trinkets to keep you occupied in your moments of boredom when you're not resting.
Will kill anyone who tries to bother you for some inane bullshit, best model or not.
Texts you periodically to make sure you're alive.
Will do research to help you the best she can.
Vox
He's watching you through the cameras and checking your vitals during his free time.
Let's you watch cartoons on his screen until you fall asleep in the late evening.
Is there with water the moment you go into a coughing fit.
Will ask around trying to figure out what to do for sick demons.
He brings you your favorite food and a weird looking stuffed animal that Velvette helped him pick out.
Works less to spend more time with you while you're recovering.
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A/N: I guess these are my thing now 💅 if you want, you can join my discord here. It's absolutely no pressure if you don't want to, but if you wanna make some pretty cool friends, join in! The vibes are good like 90% of the time. If you're 18+, just make sure to let me know in the introductions chat :)
As always, my requests are open! I have 3 anon requests sitting there that I'll get to eventually — I swear I will lmao. I hope everyone enjoyed this! I love the support thst I got on the best friend's hc's <3 I appreciate all of you
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franklyimissparis · 2 days
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mr schwartz: a line-by-line queer-coded lyrical analysis
warning: this is quite long but mr schwartz is one of my favourite songs off the car album (and one of my favourites of alex’s in general) and i’ve ALWAYS read it as super queer but have yet to dive into precisely what makes it queer and the themes within it. it’s TRULY such an understated lyrical masterpiece.
Put your heavy metal to the test
- this is a play on words of the phrase ‘test your mettle’ which basically means to see whether or not someone will carry on through something that is difficult. immediately, this indicates that the relationship between alex and the other person is a difficult one and requires strength/determination to move forward with
- it also could refer to heavy metal music (which isn’t a very traditionally romantic genre) as is played off of in the next few lines
Might be half a love song in it all for you
- the phrase “half a love song” is particularly interesting to me as there are many ways to take it: it could be half a love song because it is unfinished or because it isn’t fully a love song (and both interpretations tie into other lyrics in the song)
- if we go down the route that it’s only half a love song because it isn’t fully a love song, it implies that there is more to the relationship than romance or that the song/relationship isn’t meant to be viewed (solely) through a romantic lens (but the other person may see it as such)
- whereas the idea that the song is unfinished could either suggest a lack of passion or the feeling that the story isn’t done yet.
- it could also communicate that the someone else needs to finish the song for alex - which is somewhat implied in the previous line. this could also indicate that, like alex, the other person gets musical inspiration out of their relationship
Timing wise, it’s probably for the best
- the use of “timing” ties in with the musical references but also highlights that the relationship is heavily tied to the timing of what’s going on in their lives (invoking “right person, wrong time” in a way)
- alex is acknowledging that because of forces outside of their control (i.e. time) it’s probably best they don’t pursue a serious relationship (or, like the previous line, a “full” love song)
Come here and kiss me now, before it gets too cute
- he’s asking his lover to quickly kiss him before they can let the moment become sweet, implying that, while he is fine with the physical aspect, the emotional side of things makes him uncomfortable
- musically, he also wants to avoid being cheesy or overly sentimental which ties in thematically with the ultracheese as well
- it’s important to note that this is also the only explicitly romantic line on the entirety of the car album: this (and the half a love song line) is the only line on the album that cannot possibly be read as platonic
Mr Schwartz is stayin’ strong for the crew
- here we switch to discussing the persona/character of mr schwartz, which as seen later, is obviously meant to be an extension/alter-ego of alex himself
- the reference to “staying strong for the crew” directly after talking about his lover implies that there is a conflict between the two: that staying strong for the crew entails keeping an emotional distance from his lover
- he recognises that those around him rely on him to keep up his persona to do their jobs (in this extended metaphor of a film set)
Wardrobe’s lint-rollin’ your velveteen suit
- alex is known to emphasise his personas via clothing choices and the velveteen suit is representative of that here. the crew removes any imperfections, like the lint, off of the suit (the persona)
- this also ties into alex’s obsession with perfectionism and control and how, though he is wearing the suit (i.e. persona), there is a mutual reliance between him and the “crew” to maintain his image
- also have to mention that velveteen is a rather untraditional material choice for something as traditional as a suit, there is a bit of a clash here between the two (a fully velveteen suit could also be seen as quite camp - and is also very 70s, which ties into eycte’s aesthetic too)
And smudgin’ dubbin on your dancin’ shoes
- dubbin makes leather softer and waterproof: again, others are trying to prevent damage from occurring to the persona
- this could also refer to the musical direction that the band has gone to in tbhc and the car: their music is softer and more contemplative than it was before, especially since ‘dancing shoes’ is also a song off of their first album. this could be commentary on how alex’s personas have evolved and the mixed reactions he’s gotten from his audience over it
Gradually, it’s coming into view
- we move from music imagery to film imagery with the line “coming into view”.. things were blurry or unclear before but he (or the other person) are slowly coming to realizations about their situation
It’s like your little directorial debut
- having a directorial debut suggests that this is the first time they are taking control of a situation and telling others what to do, they are directing someone else instead of being directed - with the word little being used to emphasise that this isn’t a massive change yet
- but he’s also directing himself to behave in a certain way: alex is directing his new persona, mr schwartz, in his debut
As fine a time as any to deduce
- to me this line also implies that this realisation has sort of been a long time coming, they’ve been through this cycle so many times that they might as well come to the realisation now
The fact that neither you or I has ever had a clue
- going into the next verse as well, this hints that alex and his lover have had struggles with seeing where alex ends and the persona begins and have also never been able to get their relationship right as a result
And if we guess who I’m pretending to be
- here he is confirming what is obvious: alex is mr schwartz and the persona is clearly differentiated from himself as “pretending”. alex and his lover are both keenly aware that mr schwartz is a persona which almost becomes a joke to them in the next line
Do we win a prize?
- alex pokes fun at how obvious it is to him and his lover that mr schwartz is a character but i think he’s also pointing out here: do we get anything out of the persona that i’ve created?
- he’s questioning, perhaps for the first time, if in the end keeping the persona up will be worth it to him and his lover or if it is all meaningless
Having attempted twice, both incorrectly
- okay so obviously the majority of us reading this are immediately going to go to a certain side project of alex’s and the two albums they’ve released (with talk of there being a third to complete the trilogy)
- this suggests that there have been two attempts at happiness between him and his lover but both times there was something fundamentally wrong with the relationship that caused them to drift, which is likely related to the act that he is putting on
Do we get a third try?
- the phrasing on this line is interesting as well as alex doesn’t ask his lover directly like “can we have a third try?” instead, he poses this question more existentially: will a third try be given to the two of them? it implies that he and the other person aren’t in control of their situation to some extent, they have to rely on being given chances by others.
- though this also could be interpreted as alex shirking responsibility of the situation onto others instead of being straightforward. he simultaneously wants and does not want control.
The gloved hand’s reachin’ in to hit the switch
- by wearing gloves, there is the desire to avoid leaving fingerprints/evidence of the relationship. and because the hand is gloved it is intentionally anonymous: is it alex’s hand? mr schwartz’s? the other person’s? or someone outside of things meddling in the relationship?
- interesting also that a switch is a binary thing: either on or off (gay or straight, platonic or romantic, alex or mr schwartz) ignoring the possibility of things being on a more complicated spectrum as is implied earlier (“half a love song”)
- hitting the switch is sometimes used as a euphemism for triggering a permanent change but can also be seen as a temporary action (the switch can be endlessly turned off/on), highlighting the back and forth in their relationship.
There’s not one goddamn thing that you can do about it
- this is the only time alex curses in the song which highlights how frustrating the persona and lack of power can be
- he feels stuck in the situation, just continuously flicking the switch between persona and reality, and indicates that his lover is also likely frustrated at this too. though they want to help fix the situation, they can’t, or at least they feel like they can’t
But Mr Schwartz is havin’ tea with the grips
- again, he’s switching back and forth between the real him and mr schwartz: while alex is frustrated and insecure about the lack of control in his life, mr schwartz charms those around him and takes hold of the situation
- more film imagery with mentioning the grips (those who help with camera and lighting equipment on a film set): to me, this line is fascinating as we’ve seen that everyone (including the crew) is working towards keeping the mr schwartz persona up and through the metaphor of the film set they are creating something imaginary, however, behind the scenes the grips still get to be real people with real families while alex, or mr schwartz, has to continue to keep the persona up.
Askin’ after all the wives and the kids
- the use of the phrase “askin’ after” instead of “talking about” etc. implies that the question is not mutual: mr schwartz is not being asked about his wife/kids because he does not have any and the others know it. yet he knows that it is important that he shows interest in their nuclear families. this is also clearly commentary on how alex is the only unmarried and childless member of the band
- it could be seen as him directing conversation away from his personal life: focusing on others and letting them talk is more comfortable than discussing yourself honestly and breaking the act
It’s at the heart of what the business is
- the final line of the song breaks down the essence of why the persona is kept up: ultimately, it is a business decision. alex understands how closely tied together business and personal lives are as a celebrity and is invested in the persona to keep the two separate, though by choice or force is up for debate
- also poses the question of whether or not he’s genuinely interested in their lives or if it is just business to him. it could be read as bittersweet in the sense that the heart of the business is human connection, but if you don’t conform you aren’t allowed to drop the act without punishment
- finally, this line also ties back to “staying strong for the crew”: he has to keep up the persona so that the ‘crew’ can continue to work and take care of their families. and hearing about them is both a reminder of what he is denying himself and what is at stake for the others.
to summarise: alex is torn between putting on the straight persona of mr schwartz and being truly himself within the fractured relationship he has with his lover - which has been heavily influenced by external and internal pressures. gee i wonder who the song is about (rhymes with schmiles schmane.)
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littlesparklight · 2 days
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I got curious about how Menelaos gets chosen in various sources and made a little list*: -In the Catalogue of Women, Tyndareos chooses/Menelaos wins because he offers the most bride gifts. [The oath is Tyndareos' idea, as far as we can tell.] -In Stesichorus' Helen (so, the probable first version of his that treated Helen and the Trojan war, not either of his Palinodes), Tyndareos chooses after exacting the oath to keep order and the suitors from fighting each other. [No way to tell if Tyndareos came up with the oath himself or was given the idea, by Odysseus or anyone else.] -In Euripides' Iphigenia in Aulis, Tyndareos allows Helen to choose after exacting the oath as the suitors have begun threatening each other. [Tyndareos comes up with the idea of the oath himself.] -In the Bibliotheke, Tyndareos chooses. [Odysseus is the brain behind the oath.] -In Hyginus' Fabulae (#78), Helen gets to choose because Tyndareos is afraid of the discord that might arise and that Agamemnon might divorce Klytaimnestra. [Odysseus is again the brain behind the oath.] *Based on checking those sources I knew mentioned it plus Gantz's Early Greek Myth, since he's thorough in mentioning if later sources talk about something even if the focus is on earlier ones.
So what we've got is that most of the time in these sources, Tyndareos is the one to choose. In the Catalogue of Women the man chosen is also the one that, on the crassest level, is the most "worthy" by having given most for the woman. (Though it's also the source that notes if Achilles had been old enough, he would have won Helen.) Of course, if there are lost sources that touched on the suitors and Helen's marriage to Menelaos, we won't know that, or what they said about it, but this is what we've got to work with, I'm rather sure.
Tyndareos choosing is of course the most "neutral"/normative option, as that would be the regular course of things. Tyndareos being the one to choose also doesn't appear to have any correlation (as far as we can tell, anyway) whether Helen left or was kidnapped. As in, there's no correlation to whether Helen is portrayed as "guilty" or not when her father has chosen her husband.
Helen choosing comes into play for the first time in Iphigenia in Aulis, and the context of it paints a rather specific picture, I'd say.
"[...] old Tyndareus with no small cleverness had beguiled them by his shrewd device, he allowed his daughter to choose from among her suitors the one towards whom the sweet breezes of Aphrodite might carry her."
"[...] carried Helen off, in mutual desire, to his steading on Ida."
First of all, of course one could probably say much since this is all part of a speech of Agamemnon's. But, if we're allowing what's being said to stand on its own (and if there is an agenda, which undoubtedly there is, it might be Agamemnon's just as much as about how the play, meta-wise, is choosing to represent this), something becomes very clear. Tyndareos is put forth as basically tricking the suitors, and so it puts blame on him. Helen, in being allowed to choose, is made culpable since she then still desired someone not her husband and because of that desire let herself be carried off. The chorus a little later after this both uses "carried off" as well as "fled her home to marry a foreigner". It's thus not just Agamemnon who is framing it both in terms of "kidnapping" and Helen leaving because she desires Paris.
In Hyginus we have no moral flavouring of the same kind as above, since the Fabulae are so very pared down in their language. At most it's a far more neutral casting of Helen being allowed to choose than how Iphigenia in Aulis has it. (But it's probable Hyginus got "Helen got to choose" from that play, much like Euripides and Sophocles' Alexander plays are probable sources for his own account of how Paris comes back to Troy.)
The wider context in which Helen getting to choose her own husband and how it's being portrayed is actually rather important, then, being used as it is in conjunction with Helen being portrayed as desiring Paris. And I think it's kind of interesting how Tyndareos is apparently at first perfectly capable of coming up with the idea of the oath himself, but as soon as Odysseus in later sources worms his way into the narrative, him having come up with it is the version that dominates (especially in later awareness of the story)!
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scaraisferal · 9 hours
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”am i annoying or are you just distant?“
warnings: delusion, nsfw topics, friend-full y/n to friend-less y/n, possessiveness, stalker scara, yandere scara, somewhat modern au, NOT proofread
notes: more so head cannons than an actual fic don't ask for the word count cause I don't know either
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scaramouche had never been a jealous person. if he wanted something, he’d just take it with no hesitation.
but he had a peculiar case. something—someone didn’t want him. they didn’t take any bribe, money or gifts, no punishment nor threat seriously. they’d just laugh in his face and wave him off. no one waves him off, let alone laughs in his face, at him.
but to say that the situation wasn’t enthralling was a lie. scaramouche liked the chase, the game between cat and mouse to get your attention and make you his. it’s not like he can’t live without you but everything else in his life is worthless compared to you. everything that he used to enjoy, like tormenting others, gaming in his own villa, or manipulating others to do his bidding wasn’t… entertaining anymore.
he felt empty, lost and pitiful if he didn’t use up his very important time following and stalking you, trying to make you lay your precious and glamorous eyes on his pathetic ones.
and when you finally do— oh my god. his heart flutters and he feels himself get excited. he freezes wherever he is, whether he’s in public or just roaming around a shared space you two have. his eyes practically latch themselves onto you, your figure, your features, your whatever.
you have the scaramouche following you around like a possessive little thing now! he'll tell you he's a good guy for protecting you from all those worms chasing you around, all the unwanted pests, as he calls them, already tied and being corrected by his mother's previous military friends. she saved their live so they owe her a lot and she's been acting like a pretty bad mom :( if she wants to make things up with her only son, she'll let it slide!
all your previous friends don't want to hang out anymore! such a shame, is it not? but it's okay, don't cry—scaramouche'll be there for you, he'll teach them a lesson for making you cry.
the more time he spends with you the more hostile he is. he doesn't like it when your eyes aren't on him, his perfect figure, his handsome face, him. can't you see all the time and effort he's been putting into his looks for you? you like blonde guys? his hair's bleached the next day. you like softer guys? he lets his guard down around you, letting you do whatever to him but all that sweetness turns bitter real quick when you pay attention to anyone else.
he might ignore you, ghost you for a couple of days before clinging back to your side, obviously blaming his disappearance on you. "if you didn't act like a fool, maybe i'd see you worth my time", "my fault? please, you were basically begging me to go", "i should be good enough for you. aren't i?"
it wasn't his fault! you obviously hated him now! he'll just go die in a ditch he supposes. if you want to make it up to him, you'll have to prove it to him.
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f4iry-bell · 17 hours
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Before I tell you about my request, I have to acknowledge that you are so FREAKING amazing at writing!!
Don't know if you've already done these before, but Jameson's POV of when he first met Avery, during the will reading, when he first snuck into Avery's room, and when Avery was leaving Will Blake's ranch in tfg. It's probably a lot, but I've been wanting to read about these for a while and I also know a good writer who is capable of doing that. Also, just know that I'm probably going to request you many more things to write about.
first of all I'm HONOURED. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TRUSTING ME. second of all, i really hope this satisfy you and is enough 😭😭I'm no jlb, this is completely of what I think jameson would have thought from my understanding. if you think otherwise please do let me know. again, it's completely from my understanding of jamie's character. also sorry it took so long.
NOTE: all four parts are here. pretty long. some copy pasted dialogues!!!!!! hope you enjoy.
Jameson meeting Avery for the first time.
It was not easy for the Hawthornes, everyone grieved in their own way. But for some reason the grievance was put aside today by everyone, Jameson would like to say he has put it aside as well but the bottle in his hand and the obvious intoxication would say otherwise. It is not a good idea to get drunk during an important time like the reading of the will of the great Tobias Hawthorne, and it's definitely not a good idea to leave your family hanging while one sits at the edge of the balcony, only supported by the railing. But that's exactly what Jameson Hawthorne did.
His mind was all over the place looking for something, something that would give him the thrill more than sitting at the edge of the balcony, drunk. He might have been wrong, but there was a two out of ten chance that he may be right. He refused to look away from the brown haired girl who was standing in the backyard, completely mesmerised by the Hawthorne backyard. As she took in the view he took in her features and movements. He finally decided to interact in the only way he knew to find out what she is.
“If yes is no and once is never , then how many sides does a triangle have?” His words slurred but it got her attention. She looked up to him, bending her neck backwards.
“You’re going to fall.” She told him.
He smirked. “An interesting proposition.”
“That wasn’t a proposition,” She said.
He offered her a lazy grin. “There’s no shame in propositioning a Hawthorne.” Jameson’s smirk grew a bit wider when she noticed that he was shirtless.
“You must be Mystery Girl,” he said.
“I’m Avery,” She corrected.
She looked at him like anyone who knew what recently happened in the Hawthorne family would look at him, wondering why his face was anything but filled with grief. He wouldn't blame her for being a little judgemental. He is very good at grieving in his own way and an expert at hiding it.
“Whatever you say, M.G.,” he retorted. “Can I call you M.G., Mystery Girl?” He was trying to taunt her at this point.
She crossed her arms. “No.”
He brought his feet up to the railing and stood. He wobbled, he could see her thinking about something with worry and panic when he put one foot in front.
“Don't!” But he didn't listen to her. He twisted and grabbed the railing with his hands, holding himself vertical, feet in the air and dropped. He landed right next to her.
“You shouldn’t be out here, M.G.” He told her.
“Neither should you.” He can tell that her heart is beating fast. It was so obvious. Janeson’s heart was racing too, he told himself that it was because of the stunt he just pulled.
“If I do what I should no more often than I say what I shouldn’t”—his lips twisted—“then what does that make me?”
She sighed like she just realised who he is. She was taking in his features to make sure, especially his eyes, and his abs.
“What,” he repeated intently, “does that make me?”
“Drunk,” She said. Jameson was about to say something else, he was ready with a comeback but she added two more words. “And two.”
“What?” Jameson Hawthorne said.
“The answer to your first riddle,” She told him. “If yes is no and once is never , then the number of sides a triangle has… is… two .” She didn't explain her answer, she didn't have to.
“Touché, M.G.” Jameson ambled past her, brushing his bare arm lightly over mine as he did. “Touché.” He was impressed and intrigued.
Two out of ten, this time the odds were in his favour. And now that Jameson Hawthorne got the answer he wanted from this Mystery Girl, he has no plan to leave her alone. That moment he knew she was special. And his grandfather brought her here for a reason. He will find out why.
The Will Read
Jameson made his way to his wing and managed to find himself a shirt and suit jacket. He checked himself in the mirror once before heading to The Great Room. Once he was inside his eyes looked for a specific pair of brown eyes but he realised Avery hadn't arrived yet. He went further inside and stood with the rest of his family. Soon he watched Avery make her way inside and made eye contact with him. He immediately gave her a cheeky smile and a salute, he can also noticed Grayson stiffened at his action through the corner of his eyes.
Once the lawyers made sure everyone who is mentioned in the will was in the room they started. First, they handed an envelope to everyone in the family and to Avery as well. They were asked to open the letters after the will reading. Jameson is already curious about his letter and what the old man has to say to him and to Avery Grambs. His eyes were fixated on her envelope for a whole minute before focusing on the reading prudently.
“Mr. Hawthorne stipulated that all of the following individuals must be physically present for the reading of this will: Skye Hawthorne, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris, Nash Hawthorne, Grayson Hawthorne, Jameson Hawthorne, Alexander Hawthorne, and Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs of New Castle, Connecticut.”
Everyone's eyes including a pair of green ones were on her. Avery Kylie Grambs.
“...To my daughters, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris and Skye Hawthorne, I leave the funds necessary to pay off all debts accrued as of the date and time of my death.” Mr. Ortega paused before speaking, he looked directly at Zara and Skye then back to the will.
“Additionally, I leave to Skye my compass, may she always know true north, and to Zara, I leave my wedding ring, may she love as wholly and steadfastly as I loved her mother.” Another pause, more painful than the last.
“Go on.” That came from Zara’s husband.
“To each of my daughters,” Mr. Ortega read slowly, “beyond that already stated, I leave a one-time inheritance of fifty thousand dollars.”
Jameson wanted to smile but he knew better, just like how he knew that his mother and aunt won't be the one holding the old man's entire fortune. It's not a surprise, none of them should be surprised that the person who would be taking the fortune would be the heir apparent, his brother, Grayson Devenport Hawthorne.
There was a mini quarrel between Zara and Skye on how Jameson and his brothers became the old man's favourite, how Skye gave them to him so that her sons would have the inheritance.
“Now, if I may continue…” Mr. Ortega looked back down at the will in his hands. “To my grandsons, Nash Westbrook Hawthorne, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, and Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, I leave…”
“Everything,” Zara muttered bitterly.
Mr. Ortega spoke over her. “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars apiece, payable on their twenty-fifth birthdays, until such time to be managed by Alisa Ortega, trustee.”
Everyone heard Alisa’s audible shock. Unlike his brother Grayson who was utterly shocked and threw knives for the word ‘what’ Jameson Hawthorne thought that this is getting interesting.
The old man didn't leave everything to Grayson like everyone thought the old man would because of the way he was groomed. Or to Nash, or to Xander, or to me. There is only one person left in the will. There could be two things happening right here, and if his guess is right…
“The remainder of my estate,” Mr. Ortega read, “including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to Avery Kylie Grambs.”
And it was indeed right, if you're smart you would have seen this coming right after they read that Tobias Hawthorne didn't leave his fortune to his daughters or his grandsons. The only blood related heirs. But now? A new heiress. Not blood related as far as he knows. She is not a random girl. He knew his grandfather too well to know that he wouldn't randomly write his entire fortune to a stranger. This is something. He doesn't know what she is yet. But he will find out.
Everyone's demeanour changed, especially Skye and Gray's. Not surprised. Even Avery’s, she is in utter shock, he can only say that much.
“...I assure you, there is no mistake.” Mr. Ortega met my gaze, then turned his attention to the others. “And I assure the rest of you, Tobias Hawthorne’s last will and testament is utterly unbreakable. Since the majority of the remaining details concern only Avery, we’ll cease with the dramatics. But let me make one thing very clear: Per the terms of the will, any heir who challenges Avery’s inheritance will forfeit their share of the estate entirely.”
“No will is that ironclad,” Constantine said, his voice acidic.
“Not when there’s this kind of money at stake.” “Spoken,” Nash Hawthorne interjected, “like someone who didn’t really know the old man.”
“Traps upon traps,” Jameson murmured. Trying to look into the old man's mind about this context. Trying to look into her mind. “And riddles upon riddles.” He looked right into Avery's eyes looking for something.
“I think you should leave,” Grayson told me curtly. An order. Typical Grayson.
“Technically…” Alisa Ortega sounded like she’d just swallowed arsenic. “It’s her house.”
“I don’t understand,” She said.
“My daughter is correct.” Mr. Ortega kept his tone neutral. “You own it all, Ms. Grambs. Not just the fortune, but all of Mr. Hawthorne’s properties, including Hawthorne House. Per the terms of your inheritance, which I will gladly go over with you, the current occupants have been granted tenancy unless—and until—they give you cause for removal.” He let those words hang in the air. “Under no circumstances,” he continued gravely, his words rife with warning, “can those tenants attempt to remove you.”
Oren stood between us and her.
“Oren!” Zara sounded shocked. “You work for this family.”
“I worked for Mr. Hawthorne.” John Oren paused and held up a piece of paper. It took me a moment to realise that it was his letter.
“It was his last request that I continue in the employment of Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs.” He glanced at her “Security. You’ll need it.”
“And not just to protect you from us!” Xander added to her left.
“Take a step back, please,” Oren ordered.
Xander held his hands up. “Peace,” he declared. “I make dire predictions in peace!”
“Xan’s right.” Jameson smiled, he knew it and he knew that he is not wrong about this. A random girl picked out from a random place far from home to be The Hawthorne Heiress, this isn't something regular, this a game. One of the old man's games. “The entire world’s going to want a piece of you, Mystery Girl. This has story of the century written all over it.” He reminded her about the media and how the world is going to talk about her.
Avery didn't say anything, she walked outside. He wanted to follow her but instead he opened the envelope that was held by him.
Jameson going to Avery’s room through the secret passageway
Avery didn't stay at Hawthorne House that night, he assumed her bodyguard and lawyer took her to one of the hotel's that was owned by Tobias Hawthorne and now hers. He saw her later the next day solving the keys, yet another game that proved that she is special, she solved it faster than any Hawthorne to start with. That night Jameson read his letter again and again, it took him one read to realise it was a clue, he can't help but read it again to see what it says, where it leads. But he also knew this would be nothing without the major clue, a walking brown eyed clue.
If he was a normal person he would have knocked on her door. Jameson Hawthorne is anything but normal. He walked into her wing and moved a picture frame to solve a simple puzzle to release a handle that popped two inches away from the drawer nearby the picture frame, he pulled it and twisted it four times to make the drawer and the wall it was attached to open.
Secret passageway. It was everywhere in Hawthorne House.
He made his way inside and made his way to his grandfather’s room, now owned by Avery. Once he was close to the fireplace he heard nothing, almost thought she wasn't there. But he gave it a shot anyway.
“Pull the candlestick.”
He wasn't sure if she heard because it was dead silent. So he spoke again “Pull the candlestick on the fireplace, Heiress. Unless you want me stuck back here?” His tone was frisky.
“Pretty sure this qualifies as stalking.” His lips curved into a smile once she said that.
He can tell that she was just pulling it. “Don’t just pull forward. Angle it down.”
She did as he asked. Once he heard the click and saw the gap below, Jameson lifted the fireplace up to the mantle to go through the opening. Once he was in the room he positioned the candlestick back to it's original form.
“Secret passage,” he explained to know if it intrigues her. “The house is full of them.”
“Am I supposed to find that comforting?” She asked him. “Or terrifying?”
“You tell me, Mystery Girl. Are you comforted or terrified?” He let me sit with that for a moment. “Or is it possible that you’re intrigued?
She didn't say anything but he knew the answer. She didn't ask him what he expected her to ask.
“You’re not asking about the keys.” Jameson offered her a crooked little smile. “I expected you to ask about the keys.”
She held the keys up. “This was your doing.” Not a question, he noted.
“It’s a little bit of a family tradition.” He said with a motive. He has done nothing but think about the will reading and raise questions to himself, whys and hows.
“I’m not family.” She tried to make a statement but wasn't sure herself.
He tilted his head to one side. “Do you believe that?”
“I don’t know.” She thought before she spoke. Does she know something? That was Janesons first thought.
“It would be a shame,” Jameson commented, “if we were related.” He spared another smile for me, slow and sharp-edged. “Don’t you think?” Jameson is good at a lot of things, flirting is definitely one of them.
“I think that you already have more family than you can deal with.” She crossed my arms. “I also think you’re a lot less smooth than you think are. You want something.”
Points to Heiress. She's quick.
“Everyone is going to want something from you soon, Heiress.” Jameson smiled. “The question is: How many of us want something you’re willing to give?” He spoke in a way that would make her want to give into him. But her resistance was stronger than he thought.
“Stop calling me Heiress,” She shot back. “And if you turn answering my question into some kind of riddle, I’m calling security.”
“That’s the thing, Mystery Girl. I don’t think I’m turning anything into a riddle. I don’t think I have to. You are a riddle, a puzzle, a game—my grandfather’s last.” He spoke and looked at her very intently. He didn't care how it sounded to her, he was sure of what he believed to be true.
“Why do you think this house has so many secret passages? Why are there so many keys that don’t work in any of the locks? Every desk my grandfather ever bought has secret compartments. There’s an organ in the theater, and if you play a specific sequence of notes, it unlocks a hidden drawer. Every Saturday morning, from the time I was a kid until the night my grandfather died, he sat my brothers and me down and gave us a riddle, a puzzle, an impossible challenge—something to solve. And then he died. And then…” Jameson took a step toward her. “There was you.” He tried explaining to her how Hawthorne House is, how his grandmother was. Why his grandfather chose her wasn't random.
“Grayson thinks you’re some master manipulator. My aunt is convinced you must have Hawthorne blood. But I think you’re the old man’s final riddle—one last puzzle to be solved.” He took another step, bringing the two of them much closer. “He chose you for a reason, Avery. You’re special, and I think he wanted us—wanted me —to figure out why.”
This point he was convinced that she was a puzzle to be solved or a clue that would lead him to something. Something his grandfather wanted him to find, to know. Because the old man knew damn well that Jameson Hawthorne could never resist a game.
“I’m not a puzzle.” Her heart was beating faster because of their closeness or because of what he's saying.
“Sure you are,” Jameson said. “We all are. Don’t tell me that some part of you hasn’t been trying to figure us out. Grayson. Me. Maybe even Xander.”
“Is this all just a game to you?” She put her hand out to stop him from advancing farther. He took one last step, forcing her palm to his chest. That touch shouldn't have excited him, even if it did, he didn't concentrate on it.
“Everything’s a game, Avery Grambs. The only thing we get to decide in this life is if we play to win.” He reached up to brush the hair from her face, and she jerked back.
“Get out,” She said lowly. “Use the normal door this time.”
“You’re angry,” Jameson said. Making her angry isn't helpful, if she's angry with him she may not help. Or see that this is a game, and she is a piece of it.
“I told you—if you want something, ask. Don’t come in here talking about how I’m special. Don’t touch my face.”
“You are special.” Jameson kept his hands to himself, but the heady expression in his eyes never shifted.
“And what I want is to figure out why. Why you, Avery?” He took a step back, giving her space. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to know, too.”
She does, she wants to know. She must.
“I’m going to leave this here.” Jameson held up an envelope. He laid it carefully on the mantel. “Read it, and then tell me this isn’t a game to be won. Tell me this isn’t a riddle.” Jameson reached for the candelabra, and as the fireplace passage opened once more, he offered a targeted, parting shot. “He left you the fortune, Avery, and all he left us is you.”
Avery coming out of Vincent Blake’s mansion (tfg)
Jameson wouldn't forgive himself if something happened inside, if someone happened to either of them. Avery and Grayson. Especially Avery because he let her go inside, knowing the kind of man Vincent Blake is. His heart could pop out any second, it was beating that fast. He tried to keep it cool with all the paparazzi outside. He kept looking at the gate, waiting for her. For her to come out alive and bring his brother, maybe Toby even. Whatever is happening inside, he prays that she is winning. Somehow she must.
His heart skipped a beat once he saw Avery come out with Grayson and Toby. He wanted to run and hug her, he didn't care that they'd cause a scene. but he stopped himself because he saw Toby talking to her, he slowly made his way to them and the car. To let her know he was there. He also let her have her moment with Toby.
He didn't know what happened inside, but from the look of it he can tell that Avery won. Whatever game they played, however she played, she won. And she was safe along with Grayson. That's all that mattered to him at that moment.
When she made her way to him, he didn't ask her what happened. “The knight returns with the damsel in distress,” Jameson declared. He glanced toward Grayson. “You’re the damsel.”
“I figured,” Grayson deadpanned.
“What are you doing here?” She asked Jameson. He can see the victory in her eyes, she was more open with him now that the first time they met. It was getting easier to tell what she was thinking.
“I thought you could use a ride home,” Jameson told her. She looked past him, expecting to see a helicopter.
“Pretty sure you aren’t allowed to land a helicopter there,” Grayson told his brother.
“You know what they say about permission and forgiveness,” Jameson replied, then he focused back on her with a familiar look—equal parts I dare you and I’ll never let you go. “Want to learn to fly?”
Avery smiled and took his hand. He still didn't ask her what happened, he just enjoyed her victory in the air. Just Avery and Jameson.
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ktaerssoi · 10 hours
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just keep swimming
nika mühl x swimteam!reader
summary: being a swimmer for UConn isn't always easy.
notes: i did NOT mean to make this so angsty, i was literally thinking about something cute while i was writing so idk where this came form. please don't kill me! - kate
(1.7k)
it was hard being on the UConn swim team, not only were the practices grueling, but the meets took hours and hours. this wouldn't be a problem to most, because if you love your sport you would give up almost anything.
and you did love your sport, but you loved your girlfriend even more. which is what made swim meets so difficult. most of the time, it would be from eight a.m. to four p.m.. and it just so happened that nika's game schedule was also within those hours. meaning she usually had a game while you were at your meet, making it hard for you to attend her games.
not to mention she was missing your meets, which wouldn't bother you normally but when it's been happening all season long it sort of gets to you. what if she wasn't coming because she doesn't think it's important?
you knew she had time in the mornings, time that she usually worked out during, but why couldn't she make an exception to see you? you were stressed out, to say the least.
you finally reached your breaking point the night before one of your most important meets against Georgetown.
-
you and nika were curled up together in bed, watching a movie on your laptop. her hands were on your hips, and she slowly started to travel to your back, massaging different parts as you groaned lightly.
"tense for the meet tomorrow? you'll do great baby," she muttered into your ear as she stopped her movements, causing you to turn and face her, the lack of physical contact making you cold.
"you would know if you came to one," you didn't mean for it to come out so harshly, and you watched as her face quickly contorted to one of hurt. "oh im sorry, should i call off my game?" you knew you had hurt her feelings, but she didn't have to come back like that.
"nika you know that's not what i meant." you watch as she sits up a little, biting the inside of her cheek as she crosses her arms over her chest. "okay then, what did you mean? you know i want to go to your little events, i just don't have time."
you roll your eyes at the use of "little events," you knew she didn't value your sport as much as hers, but it still hurt. "little event? that's what i meant, you don't value my things as much as your own! you and i both know that you could make it to the morning part of the meet and keep me company but you just work out with KK!"
you didn't mean to let out your feelings like that, you knew you wanted to talk to her but you hadn't meant to yell. "i'm sorry okay? i don't know what more i can give you." nika wasn't breaking eye contact with you, she wanted to see your complete reaction to her words. it was not a good reaction.
"you're sorry? tell me what you're sorry for. i doubt you could." it's your turn to cross your arms as you stare up at her, her face never showing what she was thinking.
"i'm sorry your silly little pool tricks aren't as important to me as warming up. i'm sorry i have priorities." to say you were unhappy was an understatement. you close the computer that had been playing the movie up until that point, not even knowing how to react to that.
she thought your sport was "silly little pool tricks?" you took a deep breath, nodding. "okay, well then, you can leave then." you weren't slow to notice the scared look on her face. she knew she had messed up, she also knew there may not be a way to come back from this.
"no, c'mon baby, you know it wasn't meant to come out like that. i just, i have other things to be thinking about." you stand up, still heading to the door, opening it for her. "okay, then go think about them. somewhere else."
you weren't thinking, just letting out everything you had been feeling for months. you watched as she nodded, grabbing a few things before walking out of the room and right out the front door. you didn't cry until she left. she thought that little of you?
a few hours later, you got a call from paige.
"hello?" you answered the phone confused, paige never called you. "hey, um i heard about what happened, i wanted to make sure you're okay, nika is all sorts of mixed up." she seemed sincere, which led you to talk to her for almost two hours about the situation. you had felt bad taking up so much of her time.
"it's just, i don't get it, i mean i cheer her on in everything she does. this is the one thing i am the most passionate about, and she barely cares! i just feel shitty, like im less important to her." you had shed a couple of tears in the time you had been on the phone, not knowing who else to talk to.
"mhm, well, i think you should give it some time. don't go reaching back to her, let her come to you. let her know what she's missing." you nod, her words causing you to come up with a plan.
-
UConn won the meet over Georgetown the following day, causing you to go out to dinner with some of your closer teammates. durning your meal you got two messages.
paige 🏀: good job at the meet today! i wish i had time to stop by and watch
nika 😚: hey, can we talk, please? today was really hard and i miss you.
you replied to one message, thanking paige, and letting her know you appreciated her reaching out. you would text nika back later.
you didn't.
instead, you got one too many drinks at dinner and ended up calling paige. you didn't do anything too wild, just, you know, told her everything you had been feeling about nika for the second time. which, wouldn't be an issue had you let her talk when she first picked up. but, because someone is praying on your downfall, you hadn't been made aware that paige was currently with nika.
and nika heard you.
not that big of a deal.
-
it had been almost a week since your horrible phone call with paige. it was friday night, you were trying to wind down for the night, choosing to watch a random movie.
you had done everything to prepare for your swim meet the following morning, it wouldn't be particularly hard, the team not having the best stats by any means.
you fell asleep early that night, missing a text from paige.
"see you at the meet tomorrow morning, bright and early!"
-
you wake up the next morning by putting your phone directly on do not disturb, not bothering to check any messages. you needed to be in the right head space.
you arrived at the pool at 7, getting your events and warming up. your first event was at 8:15, 200 butterfly, it would be easy.
standing on the block, you look up to see paige and nika.
holy fuck. 
the whistle blew almost directly after, and you had a delayed start, causing you to start behind. the whole way back and forth you were thinking about paige and nika.
there was no way you had just seen them, they had a game later, they should be practicing? your thoughts had clouded your mind, and you were lagging behind on the last lap. you caught up quickly, barely pulling through in the last few seconds.
getting out of the water in a huff, you walk over to your teammates, taking off your cap and goggles. as you chat with one of your closer friends you see them again. no way it wasn't them.
you quickly excused yourself to go talk to them.
"paige?" she turns around with a smile on her face, nika not far behind. "hey! we decided to stop by and see what all the hype was about," you nod, looking to see nika holding what looked to be a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
"hype is a reach, but thanks. um, so you watched that?" you flustered thinking about nika watching you struggle so much in a simple 200. "yeah, you were really good, and like super fast. i had no idea it was so complicated, i think you swim faster than i run." you looked as nika stunned, you hadn't thought you did good, but to her it was amazing.
"really? that was like, my slowest time ever, i sucked." you laugh a little, noticing paige slowly slip away to find people she could befriend. "seriously?" you nodded, smiling at her shocked face.
"listen, im sorry about what i said, i was embarrassingly uneducated on this, seriously i thought you just did a little free stroke and left. oh! and here, these are um, for you." you watched as she held up the flowers, taking them with a smile on your face.
"thanks babe, they're beautiful." you take them from her, smirking as you see her cheeks flush. "um, i have another event in like twenty minutes, but if you want to come with me to put these in my locker you can." you guys chat the whole time up until your event, and then the whole time after.
"oh my gosh, what time is your game? and where the hell did paige go?" you grab her wrist as you get on your tippy toes to look around, causing her to laugh. "our game isn't for another two hours, we'll be fine, thought we should get going soon."
you nod, upset that she couldn't stay for the whole day, but understanding that she stayed as long as possible. she found paige a few minutes later, mingling with some other girls on the team. you rolled your eyes as you heard her complain about being in the middle of a conversation, smiling to yourself.
"okay, ill see you guys later. oh and hey, text me when you're done with the game, we can get dinner." you smile, kissing nika on the cheek and hugging paige goodbye as you watch them leave.
you guys would definitely be having a talk at dinner.
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Hiiii bonten Rindou hc???? Pleaseee. Love him frr
To be honest, I intended for this to be almost exclusively for haikyuu… BUT FOR YOU MY FRIEND! *pounds chest* I SHALL GIVE YOU THE RINNY OF YOUR DREAMS. Also you didn’t specify what kind you want so ima give you my finest shit, which happens to be my head cannon prowess. (Totally not because I hate writing dialogue, no,no, that’s so stupid 😳) Also important side note: I aint spend days finishing the Tok rev manga not to use it tf outta here. Tokrev and Jjk content is welcomed proudly.
idk if I’ll make a part 2, but on the off chance I do, look foreword to girldad Rinny content.
status: unedited
warnings: cursing, slightly sexual situations (but no smut), mafia bs, blood? Fluffy bullshit, Rindou being a dick hole, the ick, my bad Spanish
💜Bonten Rindou Hataini. Headcannons~💜
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The first thing off the bat, I definitely think he is on the demisexual spectrum. I know everyone else be saying that he would be all about just sleeping around like that, but to be honest, I think that that’s more of a Ran thing. I feel like the only reason he would go to strip clubs and shit like that for work, and would actually be really grossed out when people would coddle him. If he was to have a significant other, it would have to be someone he has known for a long time, or from his old delinquent days. My best idea would be a calm friend who would give him the notes from his skipped classes. And in return he’d take them out for food or some shit. Somewhere along the way y’all would just be like, “we’re totally together right?” “Duh, why else would I put up with you.” Yeah he a lil bitch.
Any way, as for him as an adult, all I gotta say is “Mmmm Papí ¿quieres una besito?~”. Like Jesus Christ man has no right being this freaking fine. Sexy Jellyfish ass boy
Yakuza Daddy🥵. This man will spoil the everlasting shit outta you, and go to Walmart for his own shit. But had does it in the most obnoxious way possible. He gets you a necklace? “Hey babe, gotchu this, your old one was musty af, take better care of your shit.” Awww you want a new dress? “Sure babe, but just know that thing barely covers shit, and will be gone by the end of the night.” You want something just random? “Wtf am I a walking ATM? No, pick it tf up, I’m buying it, you can’t stop me. Quit arguing before I buy you 3 more.”
But when it comes to himself? Yeah he only indulges in suits and Jordan’s. Other than that, he has an avengers shirt he had since he was 12 and a pinball machine. That’s the extent of his possessions. Well that and the watch you got him for his birthday, but shhhhh he can’t let you know he cares ewwwww.
Man is literally the biggest (for lack of better word) Tsundere. Like Top three in anime. Like you got 1.Kageyama 2.Sasuke 3. Him. Like manz would rather die than say he cares. His love language is quality time and gift giving, so he’s more show you he loves you, but won’t say it first. The kinda mf that when you say I love you to them say, “Yeah I know, I love me too if only there was someone out there who loved you.” Like manz is so obvious I wanna kiss him to shut him the fuck up. (I think I have a type.) like bro the me love you tf?
In terms of icks there is one thing I no for fact. This mf wears socks to bed. And not the cute fluffy kind. The musty ass crusty socks he wore all day, then stepped in water, and now you gotta deal with it while yall cuddling. I hate this mf.
On a more serious note, because of his Bonten Bs, he doesn’t have a lot of time for us. So we make time. His time. We just barge in during his meetings, lay across his lap, watch TikTok’s, while everyone (him) are just looking like “is this bitch serious!?” >:|
Anyways, because he’s so busy all the time, the majority of what he wants to do when he gets home is just to sprawl out on the couch and just stay there. You can cuddle with him too or whatever he doesn’t mind🙄. But fair warning, he’s the kinda dude who is only ever in the mood for either ww2 documentary’s or like deep sea documentary’s. Like mf has the same movie taste as my dad, I can’t with him. It’s a good day when you can convince him to try something actually entertaining. And you know what he picks? The Fucking exorcist. He’s an asshole. The kinda dude to pretend he’s unfazed, but his left leg physically won’t stop shaking.
speaking of movies, I know I say this every time, but scream Halloween costumes. Yes. Give me Rinny as ghostface please, I’ll freaking sell my soul. Especially if it’s not the robe but one of the like dry fit and leather harness- *incomprehensible pterodactyl noises* 🥵
anyway back to cuddling, his go to position is literally the Hakari and Kirara thing. Like this mf will always have a hand on your ass. He doesn’t like PDA but this? Yeah you can’t stop him. He is an ass guy, it’s just where his hand naturally gravitates.
I cannot explain the urge to play daddies home by usher every time I see him. Like he and my baby daddy Gojo have partial custody over that song. Like bro. Yes.
Tbh I don’t see him having a big wedding. Or any wedding. I think his thing would be just handing you his debit card and saying “pick some shit out. No, don’t worry bout the price I’m rich for a reason.” And after that yall just elope to some tropical place across the planet for like a month.
speaking of travel it’s a pretty common thing for you. Just that it’s always last minute. Like bro don’t even give you time to brag to the your friends. Man just pulls up 10 minutes before y’all need to go to the airport and says, “get ready, we’re going to France. How long? Idk a month? Boo hoo bitch. Stay home then. Mhm that’s wtf k thought”. Manz is such an ass but you gotta love a walking wallet.
My last thought I’m gonna share is how he physically won’t use nicnames. Like babe is the physically most he can bring himself to do. Maybe baby. He gives himself the ick every time he thinks of doing anything else
all in all, he’s the one who is always there for you, and expects the same. He’s a great guy, under all the stress and yakuza bs. Treat him well, or I’ll treat him better😤
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ sorry this took me so long to write, I’m working on another request too, and more importantly, my final exams for collage, love that. But even do, if you liked this, please like and request something, and I will definitely be posting. Love y’all so much, I’ll see yall later.
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Promise
We will pretend it hasn't been 3 weeks since I made this post asking for writing ideas.
Anyway, @wangxian-stan here's the idea you suggested, I hope you like it and sorry for the delay!
Here's the prompt:
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It is so quiet in the jingshi that, if Lan Wangji tried, he would even be able to hear the sizzle of wax melting under the gentle flames of the candle wicks. The silence rings in his ears – and not even the sounds of the night outside are doing much to fill it.
It’s unnerving. Such undisturbed silence reminds him of times he would rather forget. Of loneliness, pain and the discordant notes of songs ending in tears, the bitter taste of alcohol and regret.
The dull sting of his wounds being cleaned adds on to that – especially since the claw marks on his back cross over the faded scars of the discipline whip. It feels almost uncanny, some kind of déjà vu – except it is not a healer or his brother that is helping clean and bandage his wounds, but his husband.
However, for all the teasing and talking Wei Wuxian does, the energy and the liveliness that Lan Wangji loves him for – he is being unsettlingly quiet as well. He has been this way ever since Lan Wangji returned from his night hunt with the back of his robes torn into, red painting the edges. The injuries do look worse than they feel and Lan Wangji made sure to tell his husband this much from the start – but Wei Wuxian seemed a bit too shaken by the sight to really listen, his expression darkening and his voice waning until he decided not to speak anymore at all.
And so, he is now tending to Lan Wangji’s wounds, with the gentleness and care of someone that has known far too much pain, his fingertips trembling on the washcloth as he cleans the injured skin. The beast had hurt him not out of an oversight, but rather, as a choice – he had not thought much about it, intercepting the hit in place of Lan Jingyi more out of instinct than anything else. Whilst a hit like that would do little more than inconvenience him, someone as young as Jingyi could have been incapacitated by it for a long time – so it was a small price to pay, in hindsight.
But it does make Lan Wangji’s heart squeeze to see his beloved be so affected.
The ointment Wei Wuxian uses on him next smells of herbs and the faint scent of disinfectant – again, much too familiar. A very effective cure, developed by the Lan healers long ago, though unkind to the touch. It stings terribly being placed on an open wound, Lan Wangji knows it better than anyone.
Which is why he’s tried to keep his reaction contained, not wanting to worry his husband any more – yet  a faint hiss does still leave his lips as Wei Wuxian applies some of the medicine to his wounds. His fingertips lift off the sensitive skin, and a gentle current of cool air blows over the sting to soothe it. The knowledge Wei Wuxian is so gentle moves Lan Wangji to finally speak.
“Wei Ying…”
The other makes a questioning noise, continuing to gently blow over the wound and alleviate the sting.
“It is alright. I feel fine.”
“It’s important to make sure you heal properly. Do you know how easy it is to get an infection from something like this? Open wounds must be treated seriously even if they’re not bad.”
Lan Wangji feels like those words are not Wei Wuxian’s own, rather repeating what he himself has heard a long time ago, a lifetime ago, from somebody that had been too good at her craft to die the way that she had.
“You need to be more careful.” Wei Wuxian adds, the tone of his voice softer, worried and loving all the same.
“I am.” Lan Wangji replies, and he’s being truthful in this simple, confident reply. He is careful, calculated and precise – but not when it comes to protecting the people he cares about. There is no time for him to weigh his options when danger befalls somebody he considers part of his family, and he knows Wei Wuxian cannot blame him for it – because he does the same.
Wei Wuxian carefully covers the wounds in bandages, his touch light. “You know what I mean. You got off easy now, but what if it won’t be like this next time?”
Lan Wangji sighs, fondly, warmth blooming in his chest at his husband’s worry. “Wei Ying…”
“I know, you’re the great, peerless, undefeated Hanguang-Jun…” he smiles as he says it, “…but you’re not immortal.”
“Not yet.”
That pulls a light chuckle out of Wei Wuxian, and it is the first time that night that the heaviness in the jingshi lifts. “Well, since you promised me forever, that means you have to make sure you get there in one piece.”
A smile tugs at the corners of Lan Wangji’s lips. “I will. I promise.”
He feels a soft pair of lips at the nape of his neck, Wei Wuxian’s lips whispering into his skin. “I’ll hold you to that.”
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web-kindle · 2 days
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!MASSIVE FOOLIVERSE RAMBLE! Read at your own peril!
Congratulations Erik! 🎊🥳🎊
You have successfully made me care more about the Fooliverse than ANY canon storyline you've currently got going on rn (Except for Hush and Vega, I'm still very invested in that). Forget the Balance, forget Sovereign State, forget the currently kinda stagnant DAMN storyline, I need more Fooliverse Lore! (Note: mildly hyperbolic, I do want Erik to push major storylines, but with the new schedule they're gonna take ages)
Like each character we've gotten so far have been so fun, but with them comes so many questions about the universe around them. For example (this is your final chance to escape, its a long one):
What's the rest of the DAMN crew like? Are they all complete opposites of their canon counterparts, and if not what stays the same. Gavin although quiet and submissive, still very much enjoys sex and partaking in it when he wants like in canon. So what about the others? Is Huxley less friendly in this AU, is he rude or just an actual loner that gave up on making real friends? Is he smarter or still a bit goofy? What about Lasko and Damien, what are their differences? Is Damien a member of staff or is Lasko a really extroverted student? Where's Kody in all this? Is he still a mild extremist or is he actually a cool dude? Maybe he's a jock unlike Huxley??? Like I'M SO INVESTED!
What's going on with the rest of the Rebaine Clan? Where was Marie when Milo's dad drunk himself to death and Milo got lost in the system? Was she an absent mother or was she just not related to Milo at all? Is she in the Rebaine Clan or is she the Queen of a Clan of her own? Where. Are. The Solaires?!?! I have to know if Vincent is still a human who survived The Surge and is just living life, or never got on in the first place. Did he ever meet Lovely, did he die on The Surge and not get saved? Was he born a Vamp, turned by William still, or someone else? Is William a minor Duke or something or still a King but not as important? What about being one of those High Council Vamps Milo mentioned? Is he even around? We know Porter is, like did Demetri save him, get Porter indebted to him, or was Porter born a Vamp and just joined the Clan??? And how close is the Clans relationship with the Talbot Pack. Like yeah their friends of the Clan, but to the same level as in canon, or more? Or less? We know Asher is more serious in this AU being the Alpha, so what's his relationship with Milo??? Are they close friends, or reluctant allies on a personal level? IS MILO STILL SHORT?!?! These are the questions we need answered
James we know is a stoner and that he doesn't see himself as a good person. Is he still part of ETS, doing stuff that doesn't sit well with him to the point he smokes to get away? Does he even have a job currently? Why does he feel like he's not a good/kind person? What did he do? Maybe it's just his personality this AU... But if James isn't part of ETS and Anton is in the Pack, who's running Project Meridian? Is the project even needed, cause if the Miridian is OK in this AU, maybe the company that would do it is just sticking to normal science projects (whatever that means). Where's Marcus in all this, is he still a weirdo, but in a different font? Maybe he's just a dude too, living life, or maybe Asset is just a person and they actual love Marcus and they live together with no issues... GOD this is so unfair that I don't know 😫
And more on Anton, we know he is a member of the Talbot Pack. It's cute he's so fun and carefree, not wondering when he'll see his Love again. He's flourishing in the Talbot Pack! I'm guessing he's just an ordinary member, but is he part of security (if the Pack still does that) or does he do his own thing. Maybe he's a stay-at-home partner, I wonder if he's still responsible somewhat to maintain the house easily or if he's completely a menace on that front.
What. Happened. To. Guy??? Cause why's my Guy so depressed? Is he still sharing an apartment with Mikayla, but Honey isn't there, so its sapping him of all his happiness? Did he confess but Honey was like "nah" and he's completely defeated in life. Maybe Guy tried to do more with his writing degree but it's not working out and him delivering pizza on the size is really knocking his motivation? What if he's just like that and things are a-ok overall. Maybe he barely reacted to Anton' wolf for cause he knows about magic (accidently or not) and is completely disillusioned about life cause "why are things still shit if magic exists" so he just doesn't care??? You can't leave me hanging like this Erik!!!
More on the Pack, DAVID IS OPENLY CALLED DAVEY! First, that's so fucking cute as hell, but I gotta know is it an inside joke, did Angel push for this, or maybe is naturally evolved and David doesn't mind anyone calling him that. Curious to see which one it is. We at least know based on his personality he's not highly likely to hate on it. Secondly, HIS DAD'S ALIVE (and seems to call his son for tech help lol). That's so sweet! ☺️ Shows how different he would be with his dad still around. And finally, damn he's such a sweetheart, and Angel is still a menace but a grumpy one instead. Its hot how he wants them to take the lead, begs for it even.
Overall love how cute he is in this, makes me question what his dynamic would be interacting with Milo in this universe. In fact, I wanna see more of his and Asher's best friend relationship in this AU. With their personalities, I feel like it would be really chill. Anyway, who is the Beta? It's not Davey and it doesn't seem to be Anton, so who is it? Maybe, it actually is Darlin like some people have been theorising. (Oh god Where's Sam in all this???) Or maybe Christian, which also makes me guess what the dynamic between him and Asher is like. Maybe it's not so different to his canon interactions with Alpha David.
And a side note, Alpha Asher just can't catch a break, it's like being the Alpha of this Pack curses you to be gruff and broody no matter what universe it happens in. At least no one close to him has actually died or something like in The Imperium. Unless if one or both of his parents died for him to become a grumpy Alpha!!! Who knows, its up for headcannon to decide. Mildly bummed out that we don't get a full vid or even an Asher cameo in this AU. A few references on his seemingly responsible lifestyle and kinda gruff character by other people is not enough. GIVE ME MORE OF THE FOOLIVERSE PUPPY!!! (Respectfully)
If you got to the end I sincerely apologise, you shouldn't have done that, but know you know the thoughts that have plagued my brain about this AU. Whilst there were some lighthearted demands in there just know they were all made in good faith and is just an indicator of how much I've enjoyed this AU. Its honestly been so fun and I hope it gets a comeback in some way.
Now it's time to bet on who the BAs gonna be about next month!
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So I thought I'd make a post on this as it's been a minute since the season 3 trailer dropped and what I'll be talking about was something that was making the rounds and I thought I'd say something when the craze had died down; but amongst the various topics of conversation, weirdly Colin's virginity seems to have come up, along with the general nature of his sexual experience. So be warned I'm going to be referring to spoilers at points from what's been posted by others on here and on Reddit, I'll leave a gap between this paragraph and the next so there you go, read at your own discretion. (note: post may be long, whoops)
So even if you've remained away from spoilers and seen only the trailer and other official promo stuff, it's clear that Colin has returned from his travel's more experienced this time in more ways than one, namely it is clear that he has been deflowered (kind of hate this term but I couldn't think of something else), and beyond that he's then also become particularly experienced in the bedroom and in the ways of charming women and such. I've seen some people say that they wished he'd still been a virgin more so because they would've found the dynamic of both him and Penelope being virgins something interesting to see as a shift from dynamics of previous seasons, and whilst I don't necessarily hate that, what's disturbed me is the way other people have had such a visceral reaction to Colin having any involvement with any other woman ever and getting ridiculously angry; which is funny when really they should be seen as interesting points of character development. In episode 1 of season 3 he returns home obviously looking as he does now and there's the whole sequence of the dropped glove that he picks up and kisses the hand of the lady in question it belongs to, Colin has returned feeling he has a solid sense of himself but also thinks himself untethered to the necessity of connection in order to engage in sex or even just flirtation, but this is important as the season progresses. In episode 2 from what I've read, he visits a brothel in which he pays for the services of a woman who works there, everything goes fine, I don't know exactly how much we will see of that encounter but it'll probably be enough; also to note, the source of this information stated very clearly that this interaction and a following one in episode 4 do not bear significance or even compare on what we will get with Polin in terms of an array of content that this season delivers.
Speaking of episode 4, reportedly he goes again but this time he's unable to engage as well as he did before and without a doubt this is due to Penelope. Additionally, this is an interesting look at sex in terms of it just being for gratification, and sex in terms of connection, a means to an end versus an act of love. In previous seasons, the depiction of brothels/sex work establishments doesn't really bear the same importance plot wise (side note I am not nor should you go shaming these people in that line of work as it's one that deserved respect like any other, it is simply functioning as a part of the conversation here), unlike here where I think that it's really important as it show's Colin's inner need for connection in order for it to work, because when he was away he probably had no issues getting his kicks because he convinced himself this felt right and back home would be no different, but that only lasts briefly and why you may ask? because the friend who he'd left and returned to transforms from a woman only in name to a woman in fully realised form, from a wallflower into an Emerald, and this kicks into gear the real maturity he needed to gain, realising from not just her appearance but the other qualities she possesses and the ways in which he is both attached and attracted to her, that she is who he has truly loved this whole time, he just needed to get out of his own head. It should also be pointed out that in the show, Colin has always drifted with finding himself let alone sorting out his feelings, so it is highly likely whilst he was technically violating polite society rules with his interactions with Penelope and this should've fired something off in his brain, that it caused him instead to think this is simply something that someone does with a friend they value highly versus being a by-product of his underlying feelings that he has with no one else. And as such, whereas Penelope was the one pining before, now he will be the one doing so and he's no longer on the pedestal he was previously so they'll be on even ground to start something real.
On a quick note, this is a friends to lovers ship but I want to make it clear, especially with men and women dynamics, that not all friends are going to have this trajectory whether we're talking about characters or irl people; friends to lovers tropes should be understood as two people who's connection starts with friendship and there's always a sense it could be something more whether or not both parties are consciously aware and it's to do with how they explore that, and is NOT in any way the case that these friends can somehow never be just friends with a strong connection, case and point Penelope and Morgan from Criminal Minds, close friends and nothing more and they're great.
Something also to say is that the obsession with Colin's sexual experience is just as bad as they way women are treated for their sexual experience, it creates this weird value and attributes a weird rating system of respect to something that's not our business, as well as fetishizing what people do or don't do with their bodies and making assumptions about their activities, so you know maybe we should agree to not do that. Beyond that, how about we actually watch what happens instead of spiralling out of control about this stuff. Also, if I see anyone who aren't fans of this ship to begin with, just leave, you're wasting energy on something that you literally don't need to be, do what the rest of us do and exit out and invest your time in what you actually enjoy instead of festering hate.
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beautflstranger · 3 days
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A Tumblr follower sent a note to me, expressing their desire to share all the love in their heart, but the frustration of what seems to be limits in their situation.
I'm sharing my reply, below - it might be relevant for someone else.
"49 is a great age to be. I will say that your 50's will be an amazing decade for you. Even though you are in a rural place, there might be the perfect person for you in your area. The internet is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand it brings people worldwide together, on the other are the realities of distance. Unless one or both have the flexibility to literally leave and start a new life together, it's very difficult to sustain. The ocean always seems to get in the way. That's the sad reality of it. If it's possible for you, perhaps you could meet a lovely person in town. We all want love in our lives. You will certainly find it. Have trust that person's out there wanting the same."
I started to think about the film Last Christmas. Emilia Clarke's character, Kate, is making some wrong decisions in her quest to find love. She views her life as a mess, and her decisions are adding to it. It's only until she's shown that she can find love through other pathways, does she find peace, acceptance and what will be a happier more fulfilling chapter in her life. The final scene in the film is of her writing in her journal - happy, healthy, positive and peaceful.
There are so many times in life when we've all felt the frustration of being single.
I've said it before and will again:
"Trust the process. Life is merely shaping you and in doing so, adding something incredible to you. Have faith. Life will open a gift for you."
That famous adage still hold true.
When one door closes, another will open.
Trust. Hope. Faith.
Here's the most important part:
Reach for what you desire to help that door to open. Keep reaching until it does.
It will come to you.
- beautflstranger
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Note
Is Luisa going to make it home in time? We can't lose Mirabel!
Luisa had only arrived back for some minor thing she had forgotten. Half of her considered not bothering and just waiting until lunch later, but she just decided to get it over with.
She would never have forgiven herself if she hadn’t returned when she did, but she didn’t know that at the time.
Casita’s front door was left ajar, not fully open but not closed and locked like it was nowadays. That was the first sign that something wasn’t right. She barged the door open, which wasn’t as easy as she remembers it being, but it only took a shove to force it open. Revealing the destruction that filled the courtyard. Some piece of furniture, maybe once a cabinet, had been broken and left blocking the door, covered in soot and thorns. Her heart dropped in her stomach.
There was no sign of anyone and no hint of coppery blood in the air, which did calm some of her fears. But she knew Isabela was here. And she had attacked the family, while she had been away.
As she bounded up the stairs, calling out for her family, she noted all the doors were all tied closed with vines - especially Antonio’s. The nursery door had been torn off its hinges and the entire room was torn to shreds. Only the sewing machine looked to still be in one piece, albeit dented and paint-chipped. Luisa’s own door was similarly broken. The trap of weights were still in place. It was clear they had worked, the bottom half of her door still stuck between them. The top half had been broken, indicating that someone had easily climbed through the gap she had made.
Luisa climbed over the weights and remains of the door, into her room. It was pitch black, but from the daylight pouring in, she could make out the wildlife that sprung from every possible crevice. The entire room was swallowed in greenery, it barely looked like a bedroom at all now. (And considering Madrigal bedrooms were barely bedrooms to begin with, that was saying something).
This was something straight out of her nightmares.
She squints, stepping deeper into the room. After a moment of fiddling, she pulls a torch from her pocket and switches it on. She hears it first. Isabela’s voice, distantly, but it’s there - Isabela has never been one for silence. Luisa strains herself to hear another voice, one far more important to her, but she can’t. And then she can see the slight outline of a moving figure in the far corner. When she shines the light over that way, it’s confirmed to be Isabela.
In an instant, she rushing that way, feet crunching against the leaves and vines and whatever else covers the floor. Isabela turns at the sound with a frustrated noise. The light illuminates the white in her eyes and her teeth, stretching into a gleaming smile as she realises who is here.
“You’re too late, sis,” she says, lazily waving her hand. Mirabel is stood not far behind her. The wave of her hand pulls out a bloody branch that had impaled the girl. Without the support from the plant, Mirabel collapses.
Luisa brings herself to a halt, her mind going non-stop. Momentarily unsure of whether she should deal with Isabela or try to help Mirabel first.
Isabela just grins, dismissively. “It’s fine. She’ll probably go to heaven. She can embroider God a new sock or whatever fucking useless thing she likes doing.”
She doesn’t hear a word of it, shaking herself. Racing to Mirabel’s side and pulling the horribly limp body onto her lap. Mirabel looks up at her, eyes open but hazy and unseeing, pale and weak. Luisa tears off a piece of her skirt, pressing it into her side and soaking up blood. It turns black, quick. She yanks off more, pressing as hard as she can and getting a delayed wince from Mirabel.
“Mirabel?” She tries. “Mirabel, I don’t know if you can hear me, but it’s me, Luisa. I’m here, I’ve got you. Okay? You’re going to be okay. Just keep breathing.”
“You act as if she’s worth something,” Isabela mused, watching them from a distance.
“Because she is! And she’s worth a hell of a lot more than you, you fucking psycho!” Luisa snapped. She’s crying, which probably takes away from the sting of her words, but she can’t help it.
Isabela doesn’t look too moved by the statement. “Then I must be the bearer of good news, because you’re about to fucking join her.”
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kingwiltcher · 16 hours
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The Smiling Critters Take Real Life!
Episode 1: The Package of A Lifetime
(Synopsis)
When Angel saw the listing, it was too good to be true, eight whole, vintage plushies, in excellent condition, for that low of a price? It had to be a scam.
But Angel bought them anyway, and of course, when they arrived, there was something very odd about them.
They were all alive.
(Story Below! Or click the link above for the AO3 entry. It has better tags)
Angel sat alone in their living room on a cloudy summer morning. They’d already eaten breakfast and weren’t planning on doing much else with their day. As of right now the most they were doing was laying on the couch and eating leftover pizza from last night while waiting on their Amazon delivery.
About a week ago, Angel was browsing Amazon for some new plushies when they saw something very, very interesting.
It was a listing for a bundle of plushies…but not just any plushies, it was the entire Smiling Critters collection from Playtime Inc. Angel was absolutely floored when they saw the listing, and even moreso floored when they saw the pictures of each plushie, showing how good of a condition they were all in. And Angel thought it wasn’t possible to be any more floored than they already were at that time, but then they laid eyes on the price for all of those plushies.
$14.56. For 8 plushies that hadn’t been released since the 80s, and were some of the most sought-after collectors items ever.
Angel didn’t think twice about snatching them up from that listing, and once they’d given up their credit card details, they finally took the time to look at the description of the listing. Just in case they’d missed something important…
“I bought all these a long time ago for my son, Liam.” The blurb began. “But times change, things grow different, and even after he left I’ve just been sort of holding onto them. But as of late I’ve been convinced to give them up finally, so to whoever buys these, I hope they bring you as much joy as they did to my son when he was still around!”
After reading that, Angel felt really guilty for mentally calling the seller an idiot for selling the plushies at such a low price…but oh well.
And today was the day the package was supposed to arrive. Angel never trusted Amazon’s projected arrival time, but they would be pleasantly surprised when the doorbell to their house would ring, and a notification would pop up on their phone signifying that the order had arrived.
In an instant they shot to their feet and strode over to the door and swung it open. The delivery driver was seemingly already long gone. Angel took a moment to applaud that before taking the package inside. Angel sat it down on the edge of the coffee table in front of the couch, and once they did, they noticed a note taped to the top of the box…
Angel removed it from the box and squinted to look at it, as it was written in very old-style cursive that was almost illegible.
"These little guys just love to play, may these Smiling Critters bring some joy to your day!" Angel read the note aloud. They found it quite cheesy, but equally as endearing.
But then all of a sudden…the box began to shake…Angel froze up in startlement as their eyes locked onto the shifting box. It was as if there were several live beings moving around in there, trying to get out…Angel could even hear what sounded like muffled speaking from within it…no way these plushies could be alive like that…there must’ve been some kind of mix-up in the delivery.
Angel slowly and hesitantly moved over to the package and began to slowly peel off the tape…and once they fully peeled it off…
“HELLO!” A chorus of voices all rang out at once, all in a sing-songy voice as the package top burst open with all of the plushies jumping out at once.
Angel let out a horrifically loud scream and jumped back onto the couch in fear. “Wh-What the heck?! What in the- What?!” He sputtered out.
One of the plushies, that being Hoppy Hopscotch, looked over at Dogday, (Who was front and center in the box) with an expression of annoyance.
“Great plan Dogday…now he’s terrified of us.” She groaned.
Dogday frowned in exasperation and looked back to Hoppy before responding. “H-Hey! I thought it would be nice t-to surprise him!” He whimpered.
Bubba Bubbaphant cleared his throat before talking. “It was a nice thought Dogday…but uh, we kinda warned you that it wouldn’t turn out like you hoped it would-“
Dogday sighed in defeat and rubbed his head, then looked up towards Angel, who was holding a pillow in front of themselves defensively.
“Um…sorry for scaring you like that, mister. I thought it would be nice if we all…jumped out and surprised you.” Dogday apologized.
Angel slowly lowered the pillow. “You…you guys are alive?” They questioned.
Dogday scratched the back of his head and hopped out of the box…jumping right off the coffee table and landing flat on his face.
“Ow…” He squeaked pathetically. Angel unintentionally let out a snicker at that.
Meanwhile, all the other Smiling Critters rushed to the edge of the box, all crying out in concern for Dogday. Buuut as soon as they had all crowded around the edge, the box tipped over and sent them all careening down to the floor. With a comical plop, they all landed in a pile, and the empty box fell on top of the pile of critters. Angel let out another snicker.
The critters all began to move around inside the box, all going in different directions and walking and crawling on top of each other.
“H-Hey, I can’t see!”
“HOPPY GET YOUR FOOT OUT OF MY FACE-“
“GET YOUR BUTT OUT OF MINE!”
Dogday quickly got back to his feet and shoved the box off of his friends, freeing them from their ‘prison’.
“Thanks Dogday!” The critters all cried out in thankfulness.
Angel had been watching the scene the whole time, and while they’d initially found it creepy and unnatural, considering they were all plushies that had just come to life…now, Angel was beginning to find it pretty adorable.
After making sure all his friends were good and well and back on their feet, Dogday turned back towards Angel and cleared his throat. “To uh, answer your question sir, yep! We’re alive!” The dog said, placing his hands on his sides in a proud stance.
“Uhh…how though?” Angel asked, setting aside the pillow they were holding.
At Angel’s question, all of the critters slowly turned their heads towards Bubba Bubbaphant (Except Catnap, who had fallen asleep on the floor under the table).
Bubba made a noise of annoyance and glanced around at the other critters before clearing his throat and speaking. “Well…you read the note you got with the package, right?”
Angel nodded.
“There’s your answer!” Bubba said, nodding.
“Huh…so you’re like…voodoo creatures?” Angel stated, for they had watched Night Of The Living Dummy last night.
“Well I suppose so. If…that’s what you’d like to think.” Bubba mumbled the second part of his sentence.
“Well uh…how is this like…possible?” Angel asked.
Bubba held his hand up, preparing to say something, yet no words came out, and eventually he just put his hand back down in embarrassment.
Angel began to look to each of the critters one-by-one to see if he could get an answer from any of them, but no answers could be found in any of them.
“Hey man, if Bubba doesn’t know it, we don’t either.” Kickin Chicken said with a shrug.
“Alllllright then.” Angel sighed and tried to lean back on the pillow they were previously using, but then they felt something much, much different than the pillow meet their arm. Angel scrambled backwards, and saw that Catnap had somehow gotten onto the couch with nobody realizing, and was now laying up against the pillow comfortably.
“What the hel- heck?? How’d you get up here?” Angel sputtered out.
Catnap slowly inched his eyelids open and signed something out in sign language. Angel deflated at that, as they couldn’t understand sign language at all.
Dogday seemed to pick up on this, and tried and failed to jump onto the couch. He quickly gave up and just decided to talk from the floor again.
“He said you have really nice pillows!” Dogday translated.
“Uh, okay, but how did you get up here?” Angel questioned Catnap again.
In response, Catnap held an index finger over his mouth and shook his head, indicating that he wouldn’t tell.
Angel sighed and just patted Catnap’s head in response. Catnap purred in response.
By now, all of the Smiling Critters’ attentions had wandered elsewhere, and they were now beginning to explore Angel’s living room.
“W-Wow…this table is really pretty…” Craftycorn, who was underneath Angel’s coffee table and looking up through the glass.
Meanwhile, Hoppy and Kickin had began racing to climb up a bookshelf in the corner of the room.
And in that very moment, Angel came to a realization.
They had just adopted 8 ambiguously-aged plushie beings into their home.
How the hell was Angel going to manage all of this?
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chirpsythismorning · 11 months
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Mike Wheeler and Will Byers… Run.
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bixels · 4 months
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I watched the original Muppets movies recently.
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