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#this one is a bit on the short side but I hope you like it!
ambrosiagoldfish · 2 days
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Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️
like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea
Benifit of the doubt Pt.4
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
Request Box: Open
Word Count: 4617~
A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)
Reblogs are always appreciated!
Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.
Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)
Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.
To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.
A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.
Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.
How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.
You never returned to any of the follow up meetings
But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.
“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.
“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”
Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”
You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.
“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”
Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”
You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”
-
That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.
You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.
Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.
“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”
Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.
Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”
“What!” Both your voices raise in shock
“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”
“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly
“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”
“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”
“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”
“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”
With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.
The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.
On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.
The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.
“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”
“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth
“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.
“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.
“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.
“When should she be arriving, Lute?”
“Within the hour.”
-
Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.
But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.
“She can’t see us?”
“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”
The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.
“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”
You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.
You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.
Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.
She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.
The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.
“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”
Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”
“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.
Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.
So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.
“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.
You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”
Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”
“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”
Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”
“But-“
“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”
“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”
Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought
“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg
Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”
Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.
Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.
-
A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!
“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding
“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”
You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”
She shakes her head
“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”
Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”
“Thank you.”
-
You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.
A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.
“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.
“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.
“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”
Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”
You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”
Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”
“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”
He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.
Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.
-
Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.
“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“
You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”
He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-
You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”
He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”
With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’
You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.
The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.
You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.
“Hi! I’m-“
The door is slammed shut, Before opening again
“Be not afraid-“
It shuts again…
Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.
“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.
“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”
You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.
“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…
“Wait, you are-“
“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”
Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.
“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”
“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”
Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”
Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”
She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”
You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.
“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.
“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first
“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.
“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”
“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.
“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”
The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch
“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.
He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.
The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.
“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”
The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.
“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”
The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”
“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”
Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.
“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”
“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”
“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”
“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs
She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.
You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.
You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.
*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*
Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.
Dixkmaster69
Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left
You there??
Fucking answer
You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.
Sweetcheeks
Hey love
Everything’s fine, I’m ok.
Aside from not having you with me :’(
Dixkmaster69
Fucking finally
You know you don’t have to do this
If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow
Sweetcheeks
Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.
I promise I’m going to be fine
I’ll be back before you know it.
Dixkmaster69
I know
This shit just worries me
Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)
You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.
Sweetcheeks
I already miss yours too <3
Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?
Dixkmaster69
Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3
You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.
“Sup”
You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”
You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”
You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”
“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”
You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…
“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”
More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”
Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”
Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.
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dollfacefantasy · 1 day
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hiii i’m not sure if you particularly like writing hybrid!reader but can i pls request something with leon where he tries to feel out his bunny/dog hybrid gf’s kinks by seeing how her tail moves in response to them. like something she really likes she’ll wag her tail real fast and he finds it adorable
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!puppy-hybrid!reader
summary: leon plays with his precious puppy girl by watching her tail
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, humping his boot, daddy kink, praise kink, breeding kink, scent kink, dacryphilia, and size kink
word count: 2.6k
a/n: no because i love this idea so much. it's been in my head since i got it. i hope i did it justice because i think it's so cute. thank you for sending it and i hope you enjoy <3
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Leon’s eyes rested upon his favorite sight in the whole world. His precious puppy girl kneeling at his feet. If he had to guess, he’d say it was your favorite place to be too. All signs pointed to that conclusion. Your eyes were wide and locked onto his face. Your body vibrated and squirmed with the urge to jump into his lap. And of course, the way your tail wagged back and forth.
Swish. Swish. Swish.
The fluffy appendage moves in a lazy rhythm right now. You were excited Leon was home and wanted to play, but you weren’t thrilled enough for it to turn to a blur. He chuckles and reaches a hand forward to rub your head. That gets it to speed up a little bit.
“You have a good day, pup?” he asks.
You scoot the slightest bit closer while nodding. You tilt your head to the side, squishing the flesh of your cheek against his knee.
“Yeah? What’d you do today?” he says.
“Took a nap. Watched the tv,” you answer, “You look tired, daddy.”
He smiles at your observation and scratches at the base of one of your ears. Those ears, which were perked up at the moment, were so sensitive to everything. The wind knocking something over outside, his car pulling up on the driveway, and of course, small changes in his inflection. 
Though he sometimes wondered if that’s all it was. He sees the way your tail picks up a notch when his lips curl upwards with that smile. He wondered, if not hoped, that it was something more than just your heightened physical capabilities. If maybe, there was something within you, something deeper, some instinctive emotional connection that bound you to him. That was probably wishful thinking. Someone who understood him implicitly. Still that was how he felt sometimes, and it was always lingering in the back of his mind when he watched your cute little ass wiggle back and forth with the movement of your tail.
“A little. Had a long day at work,” he tells you, continuing the conversation.
“Oh. Was it boring?” you inquire.
“You could say that,” he says.
“I get bored sometimes when you’re not here too,” you say.
The short, curt way you speak drives him up the wall. His hand on top of your head trails down to your cheek and gives it a little pinch before his thumb lands on your lips. Your tongue darts out to give the pad a small lick.
“Cute,” he murmurs as his fingers descend to your jawline and then your throat, “Why were you so bored, puppy? You have the whole house to yourself. You have enough toys to fill a room.”
“But I was missing my favorite toy,” you say, nuzzling against his leg.
“Oh, your favorite toy, huh?” he says. 
His fingers tease the edge of the smooth material that was wrapped around your neck. In place of a collar, you wore a pink satin ribbon. It bunched around to the front of your neck where it was tied in a pretty bow. Leon’s own handiwork. He never saw a reason to collar you. You were the most loyal little thing on the face of this Earth. Even if he kicked you out, you’d probably just take up residence on the mat at the front door. He’d rather you look like the spoiled princess that you were and dress you in the pink ribbon to match the other pink items you wore, your camisole and panties.
You nod at the question he asked, the ends of your bow swaying with your motion.
“Yeah? Well, tell daddy. What’s your favorite toy?” he prompts you.
Your hand snakes up to the front of his jeans and paws at the area where you would soon feel the outline of his hardening dick.
“That’s your favorite?” he asks, feigning ignorance, “Wow. If I'd known that, I wouldn’t have bought you all those stuffies. Coulda saved me a ton of money. Just let you sit on my cock most of the time, and you’d be satisfied.”
You shrug, not caring to roll that proposition around in your head for actual consideration. Sure you loved your toys, but they didn’t come close to one tucked away inside daddy’s jeans.
He grins not only because you’re so fucking cute, but also because he can see your tail starting to go faster. As much as he wants to pull you onto his lap and breed you till you’re a mess of drool and tears, he wants more tonight. You were nothing if not eager, and while he loved that, it meant that it didn’t take much effort from you to get him to cum in minutes. You’d just get so tight, you never suppressed any of your moans or whines, your face always scrunched up into needy expressions of euphoria…
Anyways. He just wanted to tease it out tonight.
“You have been a good girl today. I think you deserve some time with your favorite toy,” he says, watching the specific twitch when he said the two words of praise, “You wanna play with it right now?”
You nod almost as quickly as your tail wags. A sonorous laugh echoes from him. His eyes hold that glint that lets you know there’s more.
“What’s your favorite way to play with it, baby? You like bouncing on it?” he asks, his voice gaining an amused lilt.
You don’t respond with words. He knows your nodding, but his focus is on your backside where he’s getting the only response he needs.
Swish.
“Maybe you like taking it face down, whining into the pillow?” he continues.
Swish Swish.
“Or maybe you like being on your back, legs over daddy’s shoulders?”
Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish.
“I think that’s the winner,” he chuckles, “Why is that your favorite, pup?”
“It gets deeper,” you say. He watches as you try to be subtle about scooching closer. He wasn’t going to stop you though.
“Oh I see,” he says, nodding his head in mock realization, “You want it as deep as possible, right? And to do that, I have to pin you down, keep you underneath me where I can just fill that pussy up over and over. You like being helpless, princess?”
As his tone becomes more husky, you take your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Your hips fight the urge to squirm, but your tail can’t stop flinging itself back and forth. A tingling flame had been lit inside your belly, one you desperately wanted him to put out.
“Yeah. You love when I’m in charge. You love when all you have to do is take it like a good girl, and you can just let that little brain melt away,” he taunts. With each swish of your tail, it’s like he can hear a game show buzzer ringing in his points.
You wrap your arms around his leg that was nearest to you and pathetically whimper out “daddy.”
“What is it, puppy?” he coos.
You look up at him and give him the definition of puppy eyes. “I want it. No more teasing,” you whine. Despite your demanding words, you stay put. You were a good girl after all, and good girls wait for permission.
“What? You want it?” he mocks, “What’s the rush, baby? You don’t like daddy’s voice anymore? You sure were liking it last night when you were all sleepy. Just whining and clinging onto me, begging me not to pull out.”
The movements of your tail start to become blurry as you remember the previous night. He’d fucked you so good and talked you through it the whole time. The main difference between now and then was that then you had his cock stuffed inside you while he spoke.
“I do like it,” you defend with a pout, “But I just want it, daddy. Please. Wanna be full of you.”
“Full,” he repeats, “Does daddy stretch you out? Make you feel like there’s no room for anything else?”
You nod again, but you can’t take it anymore. You scoot forward more so your knees rest on either side of his boot. His knee kisses the space beneath your chin while the rest of his leg is flush up against your tummy, going straight between your breasts. He knows what you’re about to do, but he’s fine with it. Tilting the tip of his boot upwards, he gives you silent permission to start rocking your hips.
That was all you needed to close the gap between the top of his shoe and your clothed cunt. Lowering yourself slightly, your puffy clit brushes the leather. You let out a tiny mewl. Your face was already starting to scrunch up into a cute little look from such a simple touch.
“That feel good, sweetheart?” he teases.
“Yeah, daddy. Thank you,” you whimper.
Your hips move back and forth as if on a pendulum. The rhythm is consistent like the pacing of your tail. Back and forth, back and forth.
“I think you soaked through your panties, pretty baby. You gonna get daddy’s shoe all nice and shiny? Make it smell like you?” he says with a smug grin.
“Uh huh,” you mumble. 
But when Leon mentions scenting his boot, your tail starts going crazy. Absolutely buck wild. He wouldn’t be shocked if you sprained something from how hard it was moving. God, he was getting hard. A solid tent had formed in the center of his lap from watching you. So precious, so adorable. Those pants and whines of pure lust. The way your fingers were digging into the leg you held onto like you needed it to survive. The nonstop rutting of your hips matching up with the wag of your tail.
“Woah woah. Think my girl might be a little possessive,” he says as he watches you. He keeps his tone light. He wanted this to play out before he let himself have any. To stave off his desires, he palms himself over the rough denim.
Your eyes catch that, and it’s almost comical how you nearly drool. “I just want everyone to know you’re mine. You're my daddy. They can’t have you,” you say, nestling your face against his legs.
Your own pleasure builds in the pit of your belly. You’d found the perfect amount of pressure on his boot. You just had to keep grinding your aching cunt into the leather.
“Poor baby. No one’s gonna take me from you,” he croons and strokes your head. His hand moves so much slower than any of your body parts and the contrast intensifies the pleasure further.
“Good,” you say.
“Mhm. Trust me, you keep my hands full as is,” he jokes.
He watches as you keep whining and humping his boot. Your hips move like you’re on the clock. He can feel drool starting to drip on his jeans and dampen the fabric. If only he could see your eyes. He knows they’re getting glossy, hazy with the bliss coming from between your legs. Lucky for him, a particular jolt of ecstasy pulls your head back and ends with your face looking up at him.
“You’re getting to daddy’s favorite part, honey. Keep going, Keep being a good girl,” he says. Again, your tail jerks when it registers the magic words. You snap your hips with renewed fervor, chasing the elusive high. His fingers press down harder against his cock as he sees the gleam of saliva coating your chin and lips.
“When do we get to my favorite part?” you babble. Your voice was starting to give as the warmth of carnal pleasure encroaches on your mind.
“And what is your favorite part?” he asks, knowing what your answer would be.
“The part when I actually get your cock,” you whimper.
He shakes his head. “Look at you. Trying to be smart while you’re going dumb,” he teases, “Quit complaining. You’re still getting to feel good, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” you whine instantly.
“Oh really? It looks pretty similar to me,” he says.
You make a small sound that’s halfway between a whine and a growl. Even with your frustration though, your hips don’t stop.
“I’m just teasing you, pup,” he says, stroking your jaw with his free hand, “I guess it is different. I don’t see you crying like you do when I’m buried inside. I don’t get to see those pretty eyelashes all wet from tears.”
Your eyes roll back at the mention of being so fucked out you cry. It was one of your favorites, and Leon knew it. Being reduced to a crumpled mess of sobs against the heat of his chest got you like almost nothing else.
The reactions etched across your facial features are cute, but he can’t tear his focus away from your ass moving against its will through the force of your tail.
“But that’s not the big difference, is it?” he continues, “No. The real reason you want my cock is cause you want daddy to breed you, huh?”
As soon as it leaves his mouth, it’s like his mental buzzer is letting him know he’s won the grand prize. Everything about you goes haywire. You lock around his leg while your hips rut like you’re in heat. Your tail whips around so fast he thinks it could create a breeze.
“Uh huh, daddy- ah! Mm… just wanna be bred. Need it,” you ramble.
He feels his cock twitching in his pants. He’s sure when he actually does get it in you, he’s not gonna last too long. It’s straining against the zipper as is, and he can’t stop rubbing it. He’s almost as bad as you on the boot.
“I know you do. Silly little puppy. That’s always what you need,” he coos, “Just need to be pumped full of cum. My sweet girl.”
Your tongue is half lolled out of your mouth by this point. You’re past going dumb. Your head is swimming around in absolute thoughtlessness. Not a care in the world besides getting yourself to cum all over daddy’s boot.
He nearly groans out loud from the sight of it. He can feel the warmth of your pussy all over his shoe, the plush of your thighs clamped near the sides.
“You’re doing perfect, baby,” he mutters, “You’re gonna get your treat, I promise. Just let daddy watch you cum, and I’ll make sure you get your fill.”
You want to whimper “ok, daddy,” but your mind is too far gone for words. All that comes out is a strangled amalgamation of sounds accompanied by your head wobbling up and down. And the whole time swish swish swish.
Your swollen little clit had more than enough stimulation to get you to burst. Pants turn to gasps and fluid movements sharpen. You mumble against his leg, your lips squishing all over his pants and wetting them even more with your spit.
“That’s my good girl,” he purrs, which is enough to get another loud moan out of you. He chuckles and continues watching with his half-lidded, lustful eyes.
As the movement of your hips slow, your tail’s swings weaken. He still strokes your head as you catch your breath. Your chest puffs in and out while you feel your skin cooling down. It was hard not to get sleepy after you came, but before you have to worry about falling asleep at his feet, Leon scoops you up and holds you on his lap.
Rubbing your back, he presses some kisses to your forehead and temple. “There’s my girl. How’re you feeling, baby?”
“Good, daddy,” you mutter against his shirt.
“Yeah? You think you’re up for daddy breeding you for real now?” he whispers.
And suddenly, you’re not so sleepy. You sit up straight in time with your ears perking up. You nod and give him a lazy smile. He can’t see it, but he can feel that tail already starting to wag again.
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slytherinshua · 2 days
Text
HOLD ME CLOSE
genre. comfort. warnings. reader had a really bad day (unspecified reason). pairing. best friend!anton x fem!reader. wc. 417. request. no. a/n. kinda wrote this randomly like 2 nights ago i think?? it's rly short and im not sure if it's any good but it's here anyway lol
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“Can I hug you?”
You had just gotten back home from possibly the worst night of your entire life, and seeing your roommate in the kitchen in his pyjamas and hoodie pulled over his head made your heart clench in your chest. The question slipped out before you had time to think about what you were about to say to your best friend who you’d never had any amount of prolonged skinship with in your entire 4 years of knowing him (though not for a lack of wanting to).
Anton was silent for a second, slightly shocked by your question, and still holding a spoon in his hand from his long empty bowl of cereal. His brain couldn’t exactly process your question before his eyes flitted to your face and he was nodding quickly. He probably would’ve interrogated you or even teased you about it given how unusual it was, but you looked like you desperately needed to be held tightly, and all Anton cared about suddenly was making sure you were okay. 
You were glad he didn’t say anything, because you probably would’ve burst into tears if he had. You weren’t ready to talk about why you felt so awful— all you craved for was silent comfort. Relief flooded through you as soon as Anton wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you close to his chest.
You closed your eyes and hugged him back, focusing on evening your breath to his in order to calm down. The right side of your face rested over his heart, and you could hear it beating steadily, maybe a tiny bit faster than usual, but you didn’t focus on it. 
You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that. It felt so comfortable, so right, in his arms that time seemed to slow. It felt like even breathing too loudly would completely break the moment, so Anton worked extremely hard to keep his breath soft.
He wasn’t sure what or who had made your night turn sour, but he was determined to be there to make it better; not just now, but in the future as well. He hadn’t realized it before, but as he held you close in his arms, noticing how perfectly you fit in them, as if you were made for it, he realized you had been the only one in his heart for some time. And he hoped you would be the last person he held, and the last to fill every corner of his heart.
↳ riize taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,,
@blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @evalevaeva,, @lecheugo,, @wccycc,,
@seunghancore,, @planetkiimchi
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Hey I saw you have a titanium ankle - how does having that kind of implant feel? Obviously not the same thing but my dad's getting a hip replacement soon and I wanna know more beforehand
In my case it's a bit different, if I understand hip replacements correctly - rather than anything being replaced, I got... bolt-ons. Literally.
(Basically, to keep a boring story short, when I was 24 I walked down some stairs, an act I have performed my whole life without incident. This, I suspect, was the problem. I forgot to Respect The Stairs. So one moment I was moving smoothly and one might say procedurally downwards from one step to the next using both feet in an alternating fashion (that being the style at the time), and then the next I was falling.
And I caught the bannister! I went maybe three steps at most. But unfortunately, when I tried using my right foot in my usual manner (i.e. to support my body's weight in an upright position), I apparently placed it sort of... on its side? With the sole of my foot angled outwards to the right rather than directly down.
So when my weight came down I literally snapped my foot off. Those are not my words, you understand. Those were the words of the medical professional who looked at my x-rays, closely followed by "Your skin is holding it on.")
Anyway it took three operations over two weeks to bolt it back on, so what I have is an extensive and beautiful Mechano-like construct made of plates and screws holding the bones together. I have naturally slim ankles, so if you pay attention you can see that one is a bit wider than the other now (which does affect boots); also I can feel the edge of one of the plates if I press with my fingers.
But actually other than that, there's no difference. I can't feel a weight difference at all. I can't point that foot as well as the other, but that's the injury rather than the plates. The doctors at the time told me I could eventually have them removed if I wanted, but only after five years; but honestly, I haven't been affected enough to care. It's actually a stronger ankle now than the bio-one, so eh.
Also I did try magnets. Didn't take, titanium is not magnetic.
OH - it also doesn't get picked up by those walk-through airport metal detectors, but it does if they have to use the wand on you, because that's more powerful. I imagine that will be the same for your Dad. So it shouldn't affect travel or what have you.
In any case, I hope any of that was helpful, and good luck to your Dad! They're supposed to be magical things, hip replacements, so fingers crossed he gets his smoothly and without complications.
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pomefioredove · 13 hours
Note
Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…
So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse
Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good
Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!
ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3
summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it
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Jamil Viper
Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.
That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.
Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.
It's a bit strange, isn't it?
Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.
He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.
But that sense of unease doesn't go away.
He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.
And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.
"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."
You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.
"Thank you," you mumble.
You can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.
"I'm fine,"
Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.
"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.
"I've... had a rough day,"
Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"
He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.
"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"
It.
What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.
"Did something happen?"
You hesitate.
"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"
Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.
He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.
But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.
"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"
"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."
He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.
He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.
"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"
Unlike me, he thinks.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"
Like me.
You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.
A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank you, Jamil,"
He hugs back. "Of course,"
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Ruggie Bucchi
It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.
You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.
Ruggie included.
He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.
He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.
And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.
Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?
He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.
Sigh.
"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"
"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."
The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.
"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.
"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"
You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.
You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"
"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."
The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"
"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"
Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.
"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"
"Did you find it?"
"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"
You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.
After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"
"What?"
"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"
You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.
Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"
"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"
"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"
He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"
"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"
You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.
And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He struggles to respond for a moment.
"That's rough,"
Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.
"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."
"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."
He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"
The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.
"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.
Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...
But that didn't bother him. Not at all.
As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.
That plan lasts about five hours.
"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"
That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.
And it's getting closer.
"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."
Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.
"I'm trying,"
This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.
"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"
Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.
He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.
"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."
"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"
This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.
You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"
"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"
"This is-"
"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.
"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"
Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"
"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?
"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.
"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"
"Your... offer...?"
Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"
"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"
He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."
Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.
"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."
Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"
"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."
"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.
As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"
"Are you alright?" he asks.
Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"
"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"
"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"
Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.
"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"
You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"
He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"
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Floyd Leech
Of course, he can tell something's up right away.
Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.
His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?
Now this catches his attention.
"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.
"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."
"But you're not,"
"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"
Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"
"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"
Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.
"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"
"Why?"
There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.
"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"
He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"
"FLOYD!"
He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.
When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.
"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."
You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"
"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.
Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"
"Are they ill?"
You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"
"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"
Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"
"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.
Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.
"Now will you tell me?"
"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"
Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"
"Tell me about it,"
"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"
You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"
"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."
"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.
His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"
His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"
"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"
"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"
His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"
"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"
You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"
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Rollo Flamme
Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.
The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.
The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?
They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.
He loathed being talked down to.
Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.
And now you're just quiet.
"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug.
"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"
No response at all.
Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.
"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"
"No,"
A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.
"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"
That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"
He struggles for the right words.
How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.
Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.
Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?
He couldn't quite come up with an answer.
"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."
"It's not your fault,"
"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.
"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.
Another pause.
"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"
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destructive-poet · 2 days
Note
Your post about Tav helping Astarion with his hair and post bath cuddles sounds so adorable 🥺🥺 Could I request a full fic for that idea? ❤️
oh of course! I was actually already wanting to write it a bit ❤️ I hope you like it :)
Spa Treatment
astarion x gn! human tav fluff drabble (~400 words, short and sweet.)
“Hold still,” they say, wooden comb gripped in hand, gently detangling the Vampire’s silver locks.
rating: mature
tw: none? (I mean I guess just the smallest bit suggestive for a second.)
minors dni!
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The bath had been an undoubtedly fantastic idea.
For the first time in what felt like ages they had been able to have a large, private, warm bath at their whims. And certainly, the two were going to take the fullest advantage of it.
“Fuck,” he said, lowering himself into the water with a groan. “Gods, I haven’t done this in… Well, as long as I can remember.” The human at his side simply slides in, sitting down completely in the stone pool, up to their chest in water. “It’s nice.” They say, simply, though the blissful look on their face suggests it is far better than nice.
“Come here,” they say, reaching towards Astarion to tuck his hair behind his ears. “Look at all of this,” they muse, gesturing to a wide variety of soaps, lotions, and cosmetic concoctions. “It’s beautiful. I could live in here.”
The vampire adds, “As nice as that sounds, I think you would prune up. And I can’t drink from a piece of shriveled fruit, my dear.”
“Oh, so that’s what I am to you? Only a free meal?” They say, turning away and crossing their arms, pretending to be upset. Quickly, a solid figure pulls their own against it’s chest, drawing them back into it. He begins kissing down the back of their neck and across their shoulders, hands settling into their hips. “Not at all, you sustain me in more than one way, dear.” He teases, and the human whips around to kiss him, tasting clean and warm, their arms wrapping around him. It lasts a good while, before they break away, hand trailing across his arm, moving away to look at the jars and bottles lining the side of the bath.
Hours later, they sit on the ground, perfumed in a variety of exotic scents, scrubbed and lotioned and damp. A fur rug separates the two lovers from the cold, tiled floor. The fireplace in front of them warms them, wet hair now almost dried. “Hold still,” the human says, wooden comb gripped in hand, gently detangling the Vampire’s silver locks.
Their eyes seem to drift closed throughout the process, and when it’s done, they set the comb to the side, laying down onto the rug. Astarion is quick to follow, resting his head on their chest and curving his body to cradle his companion’s. “Dearest,” he whispers, and they pull the thick towel over his body, wriggling closer, as if they could live in his skin. “Goodnight, Astarion,” they yawn, half lidded eyes adoringly gazing up at him, before succumbing to the darkness.
He kisses their lavender and jasmine tasting hair, soaking in the warmth of his love, the fire, the fabric. “Goodnight, darling.”
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lieslab · 2 days
Text
Teacher's pet
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꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎
Pairing: Chan X gn reader
Summary: Chan finds you late at night struggling with the realization that your high school teacher groomed you.
Genre: Angst with comfort/hurt
Word Count: 3.9K
Trigger warning: Grooming, pedophilia, abuse of power via manipulation, mentions of sex, rape, and sexual assault.
A/N: To the requester for this one, I tried my best while writing this. I did quite a bit of research with this topic. This is incredibly heavy stuff. I'm sorry that this happened to you and to the rest of you, if you've ever gone through something similar, I'm so sorry. Grooming is horrible and I wish it was one of the many things that didn't exist in the world. I hope this can provide, even if it's just a sliver, some sort of comfort <3
_ _ _
When Chan came home from work, you were missing. The two of you had shared an apartment for quite a while. You both went half and half for everything. Living with a roommate made everything cheaper. 
“Where are you?” Chan called out. He let his knuckles fall against your bedroom door, but there wasn’t a response. Holding his breath, he turned the knob and pushed the door open to reveal nothing. 
Your bed was messy and unmade. Your favorite color of bedding was twisted and one of your pillows was nearly tipping onto the floor. A half-smile came over Chan’s face as he picked it up and placed it back in its proper spot. 
It seemed like you were missing, until he realized your bedroom window was unlocked. So you must have climbed out onto the roof. This late at night, it was a treacherous and dangerous task, but you still managed. 
You managed to find the footholes in the darkness. In your worn sneakers, you scaled up the two story building and sat up on the fired clay. It wasn’t the best idea, but the roof was where you could breathe. 
You and Chan came out here at night all the time. When life became too heavy and you needed fresh air, this was where you went. He came out here to come up with new lyrics and song ideas. 
It wasn’t often that the two of you crossed paths on the roof. When you did, the two of you sat in your respective spots. Chan sat on the left and you sat on the right. Your legs dangled over the edge and the moon hung high up in the sky. 
Dotted with freckled constellations and the occasional shooting star, you were at ease up here. The air smelled faintly sweet and floral from the cherry blossom trees. In your opinion, they smelled better up here.
The busy traffic of Seoul slowed to a crawl late at night. Most of the time, there’d barely be anyone out here. When they drove by, the faint hum of the accelerator and the occasional huff of gasoline or diesel drifted by. 
This time of night, it was wondrous. The grass was starting to grow again and this was the first time you had been up here since winter. The iciness and chill made the roof tiles too slick to climb. 
On the roof, you let your legs dangle down and your ankles hung off the edge. Chan pried his fingers beneath your window panel and pushed it up. He stuck his head out and reached up.
You stayed still at the sound of stirring from below. Chan climbed up the side of the building and onto his side of the roof. With a groan, he dropped his body onto the cracking tile. 
Your eyes briefly darted towards him before they went back and refound the distance across the way. He must have just got back from the studio. He was still in a pair of black basketball shorts and a matching zip-up hoodie. 
His calves were illuminated by the white moonlight. He rubbed them a few moments and curled his legs up while mimicking your own posture. 
Your legs were tucked to your chest and your arms wrapped around them. The natural line of your mouth drooped down a little more tonight. There was a glassiness to your eyes, as if you were holding back tears. 
When Chan realized it, he frowned, but he didn’t want to pry. “Rough night?” He offered weakly. 
All you could do was nod without a word. Sometimes reality was like a shard of glass. Swallowing it left your throat hoarse and mangled. It shredded the slippery sides of your esophagus and tore all the way down. The ache and burn left behind was embedded in your brain and it’d always linger like a shadow. 
“Wanna talk about it?” Chan offered. 
You shook your head and kept your gaze to the distance. If you looked at him, you’d break down and you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to forget about this dark period in your life. You wanted to toss out the memories and let them drift away in the wind; never able to hurt you ever again, but memories are not like dust, they’re much more like syrup. 
You can scrub and scrape, but there will always be sticky parts left behind and between the intricate folds of your brain. You can dig and claw, but some memories will be there until the end of time; small annoying bits that are just out of reach. 
“Hmm, okay.” Chan slung a hand over his opposite wrist. The two of you sat for a few moments until a dimpled grin stretched across his face. “What if I offered you your favorite popsicle?” 
You glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. He let out a small giggle and reached into the pocket of his hoodie. When he pulled it out, he was gripping the familiar packaging of your favorite popsicle flavor.
That must have been the reason why he came up here to begin with. Sometimes the two of you would get things for one another. He must have been unable to wait for you to come down, so he went up. 
“Thank you,” you managed to mumble as you gently pulled it from his hand. 
“You can thank me by telling me what’s got you so glum.” He pulled out another popsicle from his other pocket and began to unpeel it. “You know me, I won’t judge you.” He flashed you a reassuring smile before he tore open the wrapper. 
“I know.” 
“Then what is it?” He couldn’t help himself. He was so curious and he was dying to know. It was an itch that couldn't be scratched enough. “What’s on your mind? Hmm?” He shifted closer to you and took a bite of his frozen treat. 
Your lips pressed together and you debated on telling him. The topic was one you had never told him about and it would be a tough conversation for the two of you to have. You sucked in a deep breath before you released it. 
“It’s um…it’s quite a conversation. It’s a lot and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 
Chan laughed, “how bad could it really be?” 
“I loved him,” you mumbled. Your eyes stayed on your treat while you slowly began to unwrap it. 
“Who?” 
“My teacher.” 
It was slightly melted from where it pressed against the warmth of Chan’s skin. You remembered how warm skin could be. After all, you felt the contact of another human far more than you wanted to when you were younger. 
Chan snorted and rolled his eyes. “I loved some of my teachers too. My favorite one was my second grade teacher. What’s the big deal?” 
“No,” you shook your head, “I loved him.” 
“Like…crushing?” 
You sucked in a deep breath and shut your eyes. “It was more than that. It was so much more and there’s a whole story involved. It’s a messy situation that still has me pretty screwed up. I wish he didn’t control me anymore, but…” 
You bit your lip trying not to cry. Ever since you found out that the high school teacher, who had groomed you, had gotten married, it was killing you. That was supposed to be you. You were supposed to be the one who married him. He talked about it all the time. 
Chan pulled his half-consumed popsicle away from his mouth. With furrowed eyebrows, he took in the distress on your face. His lips puckered together before he went on. “Did something happen?” 
“I fell in love with him.” 
“Your teacher?” 
“And you know what the worst part is?” Glossy tears began to fill your eyes. “I really believed he loved me back.” 
Chan stayed silent and attempted to put all the pieces together. The things you were saying weren’t adding up. There was no way you had a thing with your teacher as a kid. No fucking way. He would have known and you would have told him. 
He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to speak. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about.” 
“It started at the beginning of high school. I had the most amazing math teacher. He was young and he was charming. He couldn’t have been much older than his late twenties. He looked like he walked straight out of Hollywood.” 
“The very first assignment he assigned was a get to know me project. He knew I lived with my mom because I mentioned that my dad had been killed in a car accident. I was a kid and that grief was still so new. I was grieving and so was my mom.” 
Chan nodded and let you continue. 
“And then not too long after that, he’d start asking me to stay after class, so he could help me with a few lessons. It was fine in the beginning, I was just a student who needed some extra help, but it escalated.” 
The popsicle was beginning to melt down your hand, but you didn’t care. It oozed across your thumb and caressed your wrist. If you paid too close attention, you could still feel his warm callouses brush against your soft skin. 
“And that’s when the touching began.” 
“The touching?” 
“It was innocent, I swear. He’d come up behind me and began to rub my shoulders while I worked on problems. He’d bend down and whisper his advice into my ear.” 
You squeezed your eyes shut. Involuntarily, your body was reliving everything. Goosebumps slipped down your arms and a chill swept across your spine. 
“Despite how weird it was, I didn’t mind it. Things continued and he made me feel wanted. Over time, he started to get permission from my mom to bring me home. He used to ask about my dad. Apparently, he lost his own dad when he was a kid, so he knew how it felt.” 
Chan felt nothing, but disgust. He wanted to plug his ears and he wanted you to stop. How old were you during that time? Thirteen? Maybe fourteen at the latest? You were just a kid. 
“I missed my dad so much and he was so kind. I loved the extra attention. During class, he’d brush an arm against me and mutter an apology. He’d let his hand drag across my desk a little longer than normal as he collected my paper with a smile.” 
“I-I don’t know. I just really liked how he made me feel and I know-” Your voice cut off. The lump in your throat sat there like a boulder. “I know it wasn’t right, but at the time, I adored everything about it.” 
You wiped an arm across your eyes and kept your fingers wrapped around the popsicle stick with the other hand. Your fingers had gone white around the wooden stick. Reliving all of it was like a knife in the chest. 
“There was one day where I was in his car. He started to attend all my sporting events to cheer me on. My mom was sick, so she asked if he could drive me there. I-I know how awful it is, but he asked me if I ever had intercourse.” 
Chan’s voice stuck in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He wished he could wake up from this nightmare. How could he not know about this? How long had you been burying this pain inside? 
“And then when I said no-” 
His heart dropped. 
“He said he could show me, so I knew what to do.” 
And then it shattered. His own tears began to creep up in his eyes. You were just a kid, at that age, you were practically a goddamn baby. How dare someone in such a privileged position hurt you like that. 
He was a teacher and you were his student. There was a position of power over you. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, and it was morally fucked. 
He wanted to throw up. The sweet burst of cold popsicle faded from his tongue. Now the artificial sweetness wanted to make him vomit. He wanted to bend over and throw up. 
After a few moments, despite it all, he finally got out the words he was afraid to ask. “Did he…you know?” 
When you didn’t respond, he already knew. It crushed his heart. His lungs were on fire and they had burst. An indescribable bright blue rage had ignited. It burned hot enough that it could melt towns and murder platoons of fully armed men. 
“Your teacher raped you,” he whispered. 
“It wasn’t like that, I said yes and I-” 
“You were a child!” His voice flew out stern. “You were a child and he was a teacher! He should have never put his filthy hands on you! That goddamn bastard, I’ll fucking kill him!” The tears in your eyes slid down your cheeks faster. “How long did this go on for?” 
“Years,” you weakly got out. “It stopped a few months after I graduated. He said that he needed space. He said it wasn’t working out. He said I-I wasn’t good enough anymore. He said so many things.” 
Chan silently did math in his head. He remembered that when he met you, you had graduated nearly a year prior. The two of you were around the same age at the time, but that was years ago. It must have been shortly after the fact. 
“And where is he now?” 
“Still teaching.” 
“I- Huh? What?” 
“He’s still at the same school and teaching the same grade. He just recently got married to a girl that graduated a few months ago.” 
Chan closed his eyes and tried to focus on calming his raging blood pressure. It wouldn’t help either of you, but he was furious. He probably did the same thing to that girl that he did to you. He probably groomed her too and it made him want to scream and throw something. He wasn’t okay with people taking advantage of others and, specifically, more younger people. 
You sniffled and stared out at the distant neon lights. A silence grew between the two of you and you knew you hurt Chan’s feelings. You didn’t mean to, but you needed to get it all out. 
“How do you feel about it now?” 
You paused for a moment thinking about his words. “I feel so ugly. I feel like I was used and then tossed to the side. I know it sounds bad, but I wish I still had his validation. I still crave it even though it’s been years.” 
“I’m really sorry you went through that. It’s a tough situation and you were a kid. You don’t have to beat yourself up over it. You didn’t know and I-” 
“But I did know. I knew what was going on and I wanted it to happen. I liked him and it made me feel good. It made me feel loved, so he didn’t groom me and it’s my fau-” 
“Don’t make excuses for him!” Chan’s voice went shrill. “He was a grown man and you were a child! You were a baby! You were just growing into becoming your own person and starting high school!” 
“Don’t you dare give him another excuse. He knew what he was doing and he knew it was wrong. He should have had the intelligence to stay away from you and never pursue you like that. He’s sick!” 
“Y-You don’t get it.” 
“You’re the one who doesn’t get it. You’re letting this man get away with this disgusting behavior. What about that girl, huh? What about that girl he married? If another teacher was sleeping with a fourteen year old, would that be okay?” 
“No! No! Of course not, but things were dif-” 
“You were groomed,” Chan cut you off. Tears streamed down his face. The popsicle was long gone from his hand. Instead, it melted into a puddle on the warm roof tile. “You are a victim in this whole scenario.” 
“But I-” 
“You are. You are a victim and I will not stop saying it because it’s clear you’ve been brainwashed. You were a child and you didn’t know any better. You were put in an adult scenario when you were a child. You were taken advantage of by a pedophile. Do you hear me?” 
Angry tears of frustration poured down his cheeks. He hated that you were blaming yourself for this situation. He hated that you couldn’t see the situation like he could. The grooming had worked on you. So blinded, the truth was skewered in your eyes. 
“I will never shut up about it. You were sexually assaulted and raped by a pedophile. You were a child and I don’t care how nice he was. I don’t care if he bribed you with compliments and the affection your life lacked.” 
“If you had a fourteen year old kid now, what would you think? If this same thing happened to them? If they came home and announced they had sex with their high school teac-” 
“Stop!” You cried as you squeezed your eyes shut. “That’s different! It’s entirely different! Stop it! Stop it!” 
“Then tell me what the difference is.” 
“The difference was that it was me! I was mature for my age and I-” Your eyes reopened to look at Chan.��
The way he was looking at you now, it was killing you. The glassy eyes and the furrowed eyebrows. There was anger looming in that russet brown. The moonlight reflected off them and bounced it back towards you. 
You couldn’t help it as your exterior began to crack. Like an egg, pieces of shell were ripped away. Your bottom lip trembled and you struggled to get out the next few words. 
“T-The difference is that I just wanted to be loved by a father figure. I-I missed my dad so much and I-” You didn’t get a chance to finish because you burst into sobs. 
It was overwhelming as you cried. The stickiness still stuck to your hand. The liquified popsicle drizzled down the clay tiles and dripped off the roof. This hurt buried inside was killing you. You remembered all of it. 
You remembered how uncomfortable you were when his chapped lips met yours. You remembered the way his fingers tightened against your hips. Puberty was still relatively new to you and you were trying to grow more into your developing body. 
Your limbs were a little longer. There was more weight in places there hadn’t been before. It was only the start of freshman year. You were new to high school and things were much different. 
You remembered how much it hurt the first time. How you were left to fend for yourself in a puddle of your own warm blood. A little fearful, you remembered the growing disgust you felt deep inside yourself, but you thought it was normal. 
You couldn’t get your innocence back. Society was cruel when it came to such a thing. You weren’t pure anymore, you were infected and diseased. You were as filthy as the rest of them. A fallen angel who had lost their wings. 
If your mother ever would have known, she would have lost it. You always grew up being told sexual intimacy was something that happened a lot later in life, but you were so mature for your age. At least, that’s what your teacher said. 
He liked the way your body looked. You were young, you were fresh, you were nothing, but a docile little lamb. With your sparkling doe-eyes, you were nothing, but a toy for him. 
Your skin was unmarked by anyone before him. You were so young and naive. You were malleable and pliable; perfect for a hungry wolf like himself. The young lambs always have the cleanest and purest blood; they always taste the sweetest. 
You wanted love, he wanted pleasure. You wanted affection, he craved attention. You wanted a father, he wanted your freshly ripened body; straight from the vine, you were plucked for him and him alone. 
What a perfect and sweet peach that you were. So ripe, so delectable, not a bruise detected on your delicate flesh. And your juice, how irresistible you were. 
Plucked from the vine, yanked from the others, and taken a bite out of. When you were old enough, you were tossed to the ground. It was there where you rotted with the other withering peaches.
You fermented a soft sweetness for the flies until you withered brown and green. You withered away in the scorching sun. Your once soft skin writhed and squirmed until you decomposed into the dirt to be walked over again and again and again. 
You had never felt quite right since then. You searched for love in the wrong places. You fell to your knees and begged for an ounce of love. Nobody could fill you and supply you with enough love as your teacher had. 
He told you just enough to keep you happy. After a while of teaching a dog a new trick, you don’t have to teach them anymore. You grew to learn what he liked and disliked. It was a toxic tornado filled with an improper power dynamic. 
He didn’t care about the sticky hands and half-melted popsicles anymore. Chan gently grabbed your forearm and pulled your body towards him. Your shoes scraped along the cracked tile. 
Beneath the moonlight, you fell apart as Chan’s hands wrapped around you. Unlike your teacher, his hands didn’t roam your body. They didn’t search for sexual pleasure. He didn’t use your body for his advantage. His arms wrapped around your back and they stayed there. 
He soothed you softly and rocked you back and forth trying to comfort you. He had no doubt that you were exhausted. This was a lot to share with anyone and that included him. He continued to rock you and placed his chin on the top of your head. 
He’d sway all night if he had to. He’d sing you a soft lullaby and lure you to sleep. He’d keep away anyone who dared to lay a rotten finger on you. 
In a few hours, the moon would be replaced with sunlight. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. Your sobs began to turn into quick hiccups. He kept his arms around you and quietly cooed. 
He needed to find you someone to talk to. Your perception of everything was still warped. The past still had its claws on you. You were still under the illusion your teacher had created. You were a victim, but he was determined to help you become a survivor. 
You were so strong. You had hid this from him for years. As your hiccups began to fade away, he gently placed his lips on the top of your head in an attempt to comfort you. 
No matter what happened tomorrow, he’d remind you how much he loved you over and over again. He’d continue to show you what real love was. Again and again, he’d show you until one day, you realized what healthy love truly looked like.
| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |
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82 notes · View notes
urhoneycombwitch · 1 day
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i think Steve needs a bitch lover. like they need to be bitch4bitch. maybe rival coworkers who butt heads and are trying to get Keith's managerial spot and are so snarky and huffy around each other and then when they lock up, they defile the workplace counter <3
I also think that S3 Steve looks like that, all dreamy and glossy lipped, is because post-Nancy breakup, he went out and got absolutely strapped down by some (bitch possibly...) college girl in the city and hes been chasing that feeling ever since. Absolutely devasted when she left and took the flesh colored plastic with her. Thats why I think he was practically throwing himself over the counter at Scoops because he was hoping that if he bats his long lashes to the right one, they might just take him home, pull down his slutty little shorts, and play eith his hole, but alas :(
you get me.
yeah see that’s how I feel about s3 Steve too. just begging to be bent over. doesn’t care how or why. and then s4? that stubble, that rumpled dishevelment… he doesn’t care any more cuz he met god. and she was on the other end of a strap.
bitch4bitch coworkers absolutely unbeatable combo. like Steve needs SOMEwhere to put all that pent up flirting, certainly not wasting it on Robin and striking out with all the babe-customers recently. you’re his second-favorite Family Video employee and his first-favorite flirting target.
but he learns quick that he gets a bigger reaction when he’s just a bit mean. tugging the ends of your hair to get your eyes to snap to, poking you in the side whenever he passes behind you- sure to be met with a hit he does his best to dodge, silver ring clipping his ear all the times he’s too slow. he gets a sick thrill out of your wrath, like a teenage boy that clings to negative attention as a coveted form of any attention.
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vqnrouged · 11 hours
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When i saw that you write hsr now i smiled like an idiot- anyways for the request could you please do natasha or serval(or both👀) with a reader that's the complete opposite of them? Like with Natasha the reader is more energetic, goofball and rowdy/loud. And with Serval the reader is more reserved/introverted, quiet, calm/stoic. Take your time and thank you in advance if you write this request!! Also i forgot to tell you, but its supposed to be headcanons^^ (sorry if this is long, i'm just really happy you write hsr bc this is my first ever request on someones blog (╥﹏╥) )
𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 & 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐋 ── ᡣ𐭩
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↳ 1k words
↳ romantic . ݁₊ ⊹ .
↳ content | opposites attract with our favorite guitarist and our favorite doctor, serval and natasha!
↳ first of all, MY GIRLSSSS!!! second, hi kyo! glad to be your first request! sorry that serval’s part is a lil bit short lmao. hope you enjoy. <3
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↳ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀
✿ ˖° natasha is a very patient woman, so it’s no surprise that she can handle your rambunctious behavior rather well. having dealt with many a children in her orphanage that were, and are, just as energetic and free spirited as yourself makes it easier for her to know what exactly you want or need. just like she can tell that you’re going to burst if you don’t get up and go do something, she can see right through you. and of course, she’s willing to go out somewhere with you if you really need to. but, please let her rest beforehand.
✿ ˖° since you’re very energetic, natasha makes a point to go on dates that are more on the… high energy side! she believes that they help you let off more steam and tire you out quicker, that way when the two of you get home, you can just cuddle in bed before natasha has to go back to work the next morning. these are the best dates because natasha enjoys seeing you have fun with whatever hobby or activity she or yourself found to do together, it warms her heart to see you so happy. and don’t worry, she loves doing these activities with you too! getting to know someone through their likes or dislikes, the way they react to certain actions or words; natasha pays attention to it all. and she loves you for your unique personality, it truly makes you stand out from the crowd.
✿ ˖° she’s more than willing to patch you up if you get into a fight or manage to hurt yourself on a mission, but that doesn’t mean you’re not let off without a scolding. it’s only because she worries greatly about you, the thought of you getting severely injured is one of her greatest fears. ever since you came back from saving belobog with the trailblazer, a broken arm held tenderly in your hand as you bit back grunts of pain in tow, she does not want you to risk your life like that again. her heart broke once she saw how much pain you were in, and quickly rushed you to her clinic. even now the memory makes her feel like her bodies on fire with woe, she couldn’t prevent your pain this time. so please, do be careful not to get too hurt or you’ll have to face your girlfriends more serious, saddened side.
✿ ˖° she also really appreciates it if you help her out at her clinic, being up all day to patch up and diagnose patients can be quite taxing at times. but, with your high energy and silly nature, you can manage to calm down and entertain patients while she grabs their medicine. so, she likes to have you at the clinic as long as you’re willing to help her out. with this also comes the cute interactions you have with some of the children patients that frequent natasha’s clinic, such as hook and the moles. hook is just rambunctious as yourself, if not then even more than yourself and can at times overwhelm natasha. but, with your help you get along just fine with hook! in fact, natasha thinks that the little girl gets scrapes and bruises on purpose just to see you. one time she even faked a bruise, to which she got a firm scolding for from the doctor. as much as natasha finds it cute, the trouble you get into with the little underworlder can make her feel uneasy. she doesn’t want either of you to get hurt, but she can’t always stop your shenanigans. so sometimes all she can do is patch the two of you up and scold you, but you two do make quite the cute duo.
✿ ˖° someone give this woman a reward for dealing with your shenanigans (๑-﹏-๑)
── ᡣ𐭩
↳𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐋
✿ ˖° serval can be very high energy herself, hence why she’s perfect for performing. but, your quiet and calm nature is her favorite thing to come home to. her concerts can get loud very fast with how much instruments her and her bandmates are playing, so coming home to such a quiet and loving home is music to her ears. though, her favorite is listening to your heart beat. it’s so soothing, never missing a single beat as it continues to calm the rockstar down. she could just cuddle and listen to your special song for hours if she could, which is exactly what she immediately does whenever she arrives home.
✿ ˖° adores teasing you, but if you ever get uncomfortable she will immediately stop. the last thing she wants is for you to feel uncomfortable when you’re with her, so she’ll keep the teasing to a minimum. however, if you don’t mind it, then you’re in for a lot of it, my friend. she will absolutely call you silly pet names or randomly give you a hug while you’re out together, it brings her joy to see you so flustered by her.
✿ ˖° she invites you to every one of her shows, but she will never force you to go if you don’t want to. she understands that her shows can get really loud with how much the crowd is yelling and the music, so she gets it if you don’t want to be involved with that. but, if you don’t mind the loud noises then her face will light up as soon as she catches a glimpse of you in the crowd! she may blow a kiss or two during the entirety of the concert, it’s just her way of showing you she loves you even though she’s like fifteen feet away from you.
✿ ˖° serval is, more often than not, always tinkering and fixing broken instruments or other various mechanical paraphernalia in her workshop. at times, it can get a little too quiet while she works so she loves to have you sit in with her and just talk. all of the things you have to say are all interesting to her, your takes on certain topics are interesting to say the least. in public, you don’t tend to talk that much unless you’re spoken to first, so when you’re willing to say just about anything to serval, it makes her incredibly happy.
✿ ˖° and the best girlfriend reward goes to… serval!
ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ
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@𝐯𝐪𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐝 ✿
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fili-urzudel · 3 days
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A Kiss Hello - Fíli x Reader
Hey guys, look who keeps overcommitting :D
Anyway how about instead of any of the requests I have in my inbox you read a short piece I wrote in November 2022?
Word Count: 0.7k
Warnings: none
Fíli had always thought it was a bit of a strange greeting and goodbye. One kiss to each cheek, your hands easily resting on his shoulders to pull him in. You told him it was normal where you came from, and he supposed he wasn't one to tell you you weren't allowed to practice your culture near him.
It helped that he didn't exactly mind. You had lived with them under the mountain for years, and he was still the only one left with a burning face and butterflies in his stomach once you were out of sight.
"Fíli, this is getting ridiculous," Kíli sighed goofily as they traversed the halls of the mountain, trying to find the longest and most time-consuming route to their meetings. "I can see hearts in your eyes whenever she's around, why don't you just... confess?"
"Because I'm not you, Kíli," Fíli said, a bit agitated. "It's expected of me to find a nice dwarrowdam and settle down, keep our people happy. I can't just... just..."
"Just be happy with the woman you so obviously love?" Kíli interrupted, seemingly unfazed by his brother's sharp words. "You're free to make your own decisions, but I can promise you will live with regret forever if you don't do something. And soon."
Fíli looked slightly up at his younger brother. "What is that supposed to mean? What do you know?"
Kíli shrugged, eyes trained on the path ahead of them. He wasn't smiling anymore.
"Kíli!" Fíli felt his frustration rising, and with it, panic. What was happening? What were you going to do? "What, is she going to leave?"
Kíli only looked at him.
The golden prince's heart sank.
Was it his fault?
Fíli paced, wringing his hands, in the marketplace you always seemed to find yourself in, sometimes to sell, sometimes just to shop—oh, how he loved how vibrant you were when you shopped with him.
At this point, his heart was no longer in his stomach, but his feet. He couldn't stand it if you left, all because he chased you away, all because he was stupid and didn't know when to admit it—
"Y/N!" He interrupted his own thoughts, seeing you draw near. You held the basket you always used when shopping, the one he bought you in one of the towns you stopped at, before Erebor had even been won. It was looking a little worse for the wear, but you refused to give it up.
"Fíli!" You called back with a smile, but your eyes looked strained.
He wrestled with his brain, trying to figure out what to say first. His words became an incomprehensible knot. "Are you leaving?" He blurted. He just... he just really needed to know.
"Yes, actually, I am," you admitted, gazing at the floor. "I figured... I don't know, I think it's just time," you nodded, mouth twisted in a sad smile. "I hope you won't miss me too badly."
Fíli's heart raced. "Actually, if I could—"
A voice called out to you, and from the looks of it, it belonged to the head of a caravan you were looking to travel with.
"I'm so sorry, it looks like I have to go," you apologized, moving forward to bid him goodbye.
First, it was the right cheek, and as you moved to kiss his left, he turned, catching your lips with his.
The contact was fleeting, you startling back, flustered. "Oh, goodness, I'm sorry—"
You were still only centimeters from him. "Don't go," he murmured, moving to kiss you again. He didn't want to leave any doubt in your mind—that was not an accident.
His heart fluttered as he felt you kiss back, tilting your head as his hand rose to cup your face.
"I won't," you said as you pulled away, hot breath fanning across his face.
He felt eyes on the two of you from all sides. There would be no hiding this, no killing rumors or trying to keep a secret. "Good," he said, his lips still almost touching yours.
He had always liked your goodbyes, but this new beginning was much better.
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baby-jaguar · 1 day
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Lust by Nature {Part 4}
Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Read on ao3
Pairing: Captain John Price x fem!Reader
MDNI: 18+!
Warnings for this chapter: Drugging, hinted non-con but just a hair
Word Count: 5,777
Summary: He’d been used to the small messages telling him to make you simmer down, something not uncommon in the scope of you being, well, you.
A/N: There are a few POV Shifts and time skips in here, denoted by the "---". Work has been kicking my butt so sorry this is late. I hope ye enjoy
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Waking up, you almost bit a medic’s hand off.
Wild and afraid. It was sudden and the place was seemingly so new that it triggered your fight or flight. You did not want them anywhere close and for far too long than you deemed necessary. Insistent on them leaving you to heal on your own even if you’re sucked dry of any magic at this point. Snapping your teeth like a wild animal when one medic tried taking your shirt off to get to the gouge on your side, before snarling as two were tag teaming you to keep you down. 
Something about their hands not feeling warm enough, not having the smell of tobacco leaves stained into their skin to leave a trail of smoke. Yet there was something lurking in the air. Something different; You knew the scent was familiar, it felt like it belonged in the medical ward yet it shouldn’t be here near you. It screamed danger, something clawing and scratching at your mind to remember.
The scent trails around the room like the smell of burnt clover, making your stomach want to recoil and throw up its acid with the lack of any substance in it. 
The lab.
Neurons fire off, and your hackles are raised. Literally. Hissing and ignoring the medics around you, yowling like a damned animal in pain when you realize what you’re smelling. Stuck in fear, now grappling with the sheets as your hands grab onto the bed rails, shaking the bed as you shift in short and shaky bursts.
---
Somedays Price’s office felt like a sanctuary, while others, it feels like his own jail cell. Head down, furiously scribbling his memories onto paper to prepare the after-action report while leaving a separate sheet blank and off to the side with your name at the top.
God, he had it in his head that he needed to be so fucking pissed at you. For the dream, for disobeying orders, for getting hurt. But he knows it’s irrational and can at least objectify his emotions enough to see them from a third-person point of view.
His head’s in his ass and he’s acting like a fucking boy.
Even Soap had earned a scolding from the Captain, taking it in strive to only break the berating with a smirk on his lips. He knew. Johnny knew, Ghost knew, and even fucking Gaz knew that you were getting underneath Price’s skin. Something no woman had ever done so easily and successfully before.
His cell rings, not his personal mobile but rather his work flip phone. One that either means business or trouble.
“Laswell.”
The number was unsaved, as all are since this was the one he toted around everywhere while deployed. 
“Captain. I’ve got some news for you. Now a good time?”
Leaning back, he takes this saving grace as a moment to rest his eyes and hand from writing. “Of course. Wha’s goin’ on?”
There’s shuffling on the other end of the line, sounding like she’s standing up to walk somewhere. Price presumes it is towards a window. Dramatic woman.
“We’ve gotten word that there's some unrest back in-”
Her statement is cut off when the phone begins vibrating again. “Laswell, hold on. I’ve been expecting this call, can I catch you in a moment?”
A scoff is his answer before cutting the call and switching to the new one.
“Yes?”
“Need you in Med, stat. Saint’s going-”
“On it.” Snapping his phone shut while moving to the door. He’d been used to the small messages telling him to make you simmer down, something not uncommon in the scope of you being, well, you. 
He can hear the commotion at the end of the hall before he’s near the door. Opening the door in a flurry, he finds you in a state he’s never seen before; Wide-eyed, backed into the back of the bed, and curled up to shield yourself. A second sweep of the room makes him realize you’re not protecting yourself from the medics. No, you’re looking towards him, but seemingly not at him.
“Saint.” The growl catches your attention, focusing on his mustache twitching as his eyebrows furrow. “Care to tell me why the medics said you need to leave the infirmary before you make one of the staff go to inpatient?”
“It's wrong. Doesn’t smell right.” In return, your head only snaps in his direction, eyes only keeping on his for a moment. “Don’t take me back, I don’t want to go back.”
The blatant stare you receive is more than enough to let you know he’s lost in whatever this whirlwind of emotions is. “You need to settle down, and behave.” The whisper is a promised threat, entirely off-kilter from what you need right now.
“I don’t want them touching me!” You hiss almost petulantly, being sure to restrain your voice for only him to hear. “I have to leave. Just let me heal myself, please-”
His hands move out of sight from your narrowed eyes as you beg; Coming up to capture your jaw with one hand as the other holds your shoulder. He steadily leans in to hold your face still.
“You need to stay and get checked out. You were hurt, sweetheart.” The harsh command battles with the softness of his palm cupping your jaw as his thumb stroking your cheek.
That’s when you saw him through the window. 
A man, dressed in square glasses and a white coat that seemed cheap and fake in material. A scam of a man. Dr. Deidrick. 
This man knows you well, as you know him. He was a constant in the lab, the person who oversaw all testing of blood, vitals, but most importantly testing the magic inside you. A large amount of scars on your body were because of him, always measuring your healing capabilities depending on your energy levels and what you had used as energy prior to the test.
Locked in a stare-down, Price only registers your change when you stiffen and stagger a breath. “What’s wrong?”
Looking at where your eyes are, he finds the man looking in through the small door window, glaring at your face, seemingly at where Price touches you gently. When he moves to glance at Price, he gives a small nod before entering. 
“Everything okay, Captain?” His tone is polite and neutral, speaking to Price while his gaze remains on you. “Is she having a little fit?” 
The clicks of his dress shoes make more noise of his entrance, your hands latching onto Price’s forearms.
“And you are?”
The doctor laughs, giving a smile more than forced. This you know for certain.
“My apologies, I am Dr. Deidrick. I came to visit once I heard our little demon was wounded.”
His possessiveness in the phrasing alone ticks off the Captain's mind, raising questions as to what in the fuck is going on. He can feel the slight tremor of your hold and, for more decency, the hand cupping your jaw moves to hold onto yours.
“So, you’re from the facility?”
“Yes, I was her previous caretaker in medical for the last several years.” Cockiness evident when his attention shifts to grab the chart at the end of the bed. “I hope you do not mind I came to check in on her healing and progress. Just a simple evaluation and report.”
He reads over the chart for a moment; Flipping the page while moving closer to your side, opposite of Price. 
“How are you feeling, Devil?”
Instead of quiping a sharp or actual answer, the response is enough to shock the Captain.
“Hello, Dr. Deidrick.” Speaking softly and politely, as if you were some nobel greeting a high priest. Don’t misbehave.
You’ve learned this lesson with him.
“Hello. Now, how are you feeling?” He digs in further with the question, eyes moving up from the paper with a weighted look.
“I’m fine. Sore. Tender. I told them I could heal on my own.”
"Mm..." Dedrick watches as you speak before moving to place the clipboard down, grabbing a pair of gloves.  "And you believe that you can heal yourself easily?" His voice remaining calm and civil.
That's one thing you’ve always hated. Even in the cruelest and inhumane moments when studying creatures and hybrids alike, he had the calmest voice.
“Yes, I’ve dealt with worse.” Spitting the answer at him in a quick snap, you can't help but let anger flare. “You of all people should know that.”
Dedrick's expression changes for the first time. His eyebrows raise and jaw tightening in warning with a sharp look.
"I know that you can heal, but that doesn't mean that you should." A hint of an edge to his voice bleeds through. "Your injuries are still serious. If you leave here before fully healed, that would be highly irresponsible."
“The medics already cleaned and sutured it. There’s nothing more to do.”
You can see the game he plays, yet you’re playing it too. Price doesn’t know, the entirety of your team doesn’t know. If for their sake or the sake of keeping yourself alive, it's not certain. 
Telling Price would solve this problem right here, right now. Screaming the horrors Dr. Deidrick has committed to others and to you could easily raise alarm bells through the whole base, yet you remain a perfect little actor. Just as you were trained.
“I’ll determine that for you, not you.” Deidrick retorts shorty, gaze shifting from your body to Price. “I will have to do an exam of the wound and her damage. Just to make sure there are no outliers to her magic or health.”
There isn't room for argument here, seeing as Price is a Captain and not a fucking Doctor over mystical creatures and beings.
“Well, I can be in the room with her. That be an issue?”
The most Deidrick can muster is a forced grin, narrowing his eyes to Price’s presence. “Yes, that is perfectly understandable for you to oversee the process, Captain.”
A swift silence ensues as Deidrick walks to the medical cabinets and the end of the room, looking over his clipboard and grabbing medical tools- the kind that isn’t even needed but instead for show. All for the sake of Price.
The velcro cuff of the sphygmomanometer wraps around your arm before the manual pump begins from Deidricks hands. The cold stethoscope in the crook of your elbow, silence as he measures your blood pressure. Just as he is about to speak, the sharp ringing of a dial tone sounds out.
“Shit- I have to take this.” Price’s hand retrieves the phone from his pocket, confirming the caller. “Be right back.”
“No… No, please.” Unabasidly begging, your hands on your Captains arm to try and anchor him to you. “Don’t go.” It's a quiet plead, begging if that, but the wild look in your eyes makes him stiffen for a moment while caught between two choices.
“I’ll be right back. Be good.” The faint squeeze of your hand registers in tandem with him leaning down to place a reassuring kiss on your head. Before you can beg again, he’s out the door.
---
“Laswell.” Price speaks quietly into the phone, moving into the hallway near the medic’s station, a few idling around on their computers to input vitals.
“Said you were gonna call me back, John. Got worried your old mind forgot about me.”
A small scoff out of courtesy for the woman's harsh humor, yet he doesn’t say anything back.
“Anyway, I need to tell you where your group has been assigned to. You’re headed out to-”
“Do you happen to know if any personnel relating to Saint's previous facility can be on base?”
Cutting off Laswell would usually end with a sharp reprimand akin to an elementary school teacher. Yet this question is well worth her thought. Even she can recognize that.
“Not without warning and an established confirmation of visitation. It’s the normal protocol for off-site visitors to that level. Why?”
He chews the side of his cheek, nodding in thought as he confirms what he previously knew. His eyes flit between your medical room’s door, the window to the outside, before settling on a whiteboard with various patient names.
“There’s a doctor in the med unit with her right now. Say’s he found out she was wounded and came to check on her… That’s just downright unnatural when she was wounded three days ago for fuck sake. How’d he even find out?”
Silence greets him in response, but it's a sign of her thinking. A tussle of paper sounds out before typing on her keyboard. “There was no agreement or discernment of their medical staff being on base. Only the executives and her previous commander. He shouldn’t be there nor even have access.”
It only confirms Price’s simmering anxiety, eyes stuck on your door from afar.
“What did you say his name was?”
“Dr. Deidrick. Said he’d be givin’ her an exam of the wound-” The words die in a sharp crumble on his tongue when you scream his name.
“Was that-”
“Send the boys my way, I’m dealing with it.” Hanging up the phone, his body already shouldering the door at a moment’s notice.
It doesn’t budge.
Looking through the window, he’s met with your wide eyes, brows arched up, while your body tries to scurry off the bed yet you’re not even moving. The sight of brown leather tied to your wrists becomes glaringly obvious. 
“Somebody get this door open, right fucking now!” The bellow echos in the hallway, sending a fluttering panic around the staff while he continuously tries to shoulder the door and get the handle down.
“John! Help me!” Your howling meets his ears to send a shiver down his spine. I should have listened, I should have stayed, I should be in there.
I should be protecting her.
Shifting his stance to the left, he can see Deidrick at the counters, holding up a small brown vial while extracting its contents into a syringe. Only after he deems it filled, pushing the air bubble out, does he look to Price. 
“It’s just to settle her down, not to worry.”
God, he wants to throw up. He wants to murder this man with his hands and rip each artery from his body to hang up as vines growing onto the wall. He wants nothing more than to soothe your crying face in his arms away from whatever torture is going on right in front of him.
“WHERE THE FUCK IS THE KEY?” He shouts again, sparing a glance towards the staff as five of them look in drawers around the main pod of their stations.
Movement from the room demands his attention, the footsteps ringing out in heavy weighted clicks on the floors. You can’t even look back to Price, struggling like an animal caught in a metal trap.
---
“They already know, just fucking run while you can.” The guttural hiss is uncontrolled as it leaves you, voice raw from lack of water in your mouth accompanied by the panting of your breath. Eyes only set on Deidrick, you can’t focus on anything but keeping the needle away from you.
“This is your exam, my dear. There’s no harm in that.” He chastizes, tsking you with a mocking voice. Fully seeing his old self alights your body and magic, trying to strum out of you like a whip, yet so dulled into yourself with nothing to thrive on.
“I can see how weak you are. Have they not been taking care of you?” The coldness of his hand dawns upon your face, grabbing roughly on your jaw to pull you towards him. “You know I can give you what you need.” The green of his eyes makes you sour, having only ever seen them as a rancid mix of piss yellow and barf green to match his existence.
“You’ll settle down and be a good girl for me, yeah? Just like old times.”
“I can’t wait to torture you in hell.” 
He laughs, a genuine smile lighting his face up as he leans in closer. “The sweetest promise of eternity, devil.” 
Moving back after giving your jaw a far too firm squeeze, his bony fingers bring the needle up to the light to double-check before gripping the meat of your bicep. “Dont. Move.”
You couldn’t hear anything over the commotion outside, thus, when the metal door slams open, you jump.
Right into the fucking needle.
A shocked cry leaves you, eyes now stuck in fear to watch for the amount he pushes through. 
Half of the dose goes into your arm.
It would have been more, save for the body that immediately pulls him and the needle away from you, throwing him onto the ground.
Price stands, heaving and shaking with a snarl lighting up his face while looking down on the man. 
“When I put you under, it will be six feet under the god damned ground.” His hands are on the man in a flurry of movements, checking his waistline for any other surprises, and when finding none, he throws a punch at him.
Then again. And again. And Again.
You don’t realize you’re stuck in a trance of watching him until warm hands find your wrist on the opposite side of the commotion. You’re startled until being met with warm brown eyes that match his skin, his smile calming.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?” Gaz’s hands work quickly on undoing the straps of your wrists, letting the sounds of the fighting echo in the room while rushing footsteps come from the hallway.
Ghost and Soap enter the doorway, a quick survey before getting to Price and doing god knows what to the man- you can’t see anymore as Gaz cradles you into his neck. Tucking the blanket around your backside before carrying you away in a bridal carry, he shushes you when his scent and warmth break you into a sob.
“Shh, it’s okay. We’ve got you now.” Vaguely registering his lips on your head, your eyes dim into a barely open gaze while the world moves too fast around you. Hot tears track down your face and onto his shirt.
“You’re with us now. Not gonna let that happen ever again.”
The sound of a whimper mixes in when you call out his name. Raising a hand to grasp his shirt in a weak fist as you register him moving you to somewhere through the hallways. Somewhere familiar; the team’s common room.
“Gonna make you nice and comfortable right here. Not gonna leave you, Saint.”
And in the most ironic series of events, for a second time, your world goes dark.
---
The sound of the TV playing a god-forsaken soccer football game makes you stir. Muscles stiff and tired, a feeling of something on the back of your hand makes you wince. Groaning, you move the other hand to paw at the intrusion, before someone else’s touch halts you.
“Hey now, none of that.” The soft voice from earlier speaks out, with an almost hint of authority as he moves your hands away from each other. “You’ve got an IV in you, Need to keep that in for a bit longer.”
Stirring, the world comes back into view when your eyes open slowly and try to blink the yellow overhead lights away. “Gaz?” His name is slurred in your drowsy speech, head lifting up to look around before finding him face to face with you.
“Good morning, Princess. How’ya feelin?”
Stiff, sore, like you just got run over by a train. 
“Not too bad.” Sitting in his lap, now in a pair of sweats and a shirt that you recognize isn’t yours, you both sit under a fuzzy blanket pulled from your room. “What happened? Where is-?”
“Hang on, let's focus on you first. Does your side hurt right now?”
It does, a constant stinging that radiates into a dull thrumming. It feels bulky, the firmness of tape keeping down what you presume to be gauze while it pulls at the peachfuzz on your skin. Your arm, the one that took the injection, feels sorer than after a full mission. 
“Feels fine right now, would like some meds maybe later.” Quietly responding before looking up to his brown eyes. While Gaz usually has enough snark to serve his entire country, his gently and nurturing tendencies highlight in the soft and intimate moment.
He holds the qualities of a leader, and possibly be concerning at his young age. But seeing as he’s grown under Price’s wing, being a favored candidate from the beginning, maybe his weight was a shouldered experience to lighten the Captain's load. Maybe he won’t be able to fully take his place until the gentleness withers away into hate and bloodborne desire to bark and bite under the pull of a leash.
Maybe he’ll get sick of it and decide to have a family, leaving this life behind when he feels his hands have turned far too dirty.
He turns his gaze to the TV for a moment, drawing a long sigh in before releasing, a small frown on his lips. “You remember anything?”
You’d rather not. Had you still been in a sterile environment, you’d have woken in a panic just as before. 
“Yes. The… yes.” Glancing away, you can feel the shift in your eyes focus. “I remember something happening when I saw Price’s face then you were there.”
You miss the look of worry on his face when the game on TV catches your attention as someone scores. “Where are the others?’
“Price and Soap dealing with the brass. Ghost was here a second ago but will be right back.” Gaz’s head tilts back behind him to check around before reaching up to the IV bag behind you two. “You’re just about finished, you fine if I take this out?”
Offering him your hand, he removes the tube and tape before placing a gauze square and bandaid over it. “Not supposed to take it out until you’re completely done, but you’ll drink your water, yea?” Inadvertently speaking close to your ear while he clamps the IV line shut, a chill runs down your spine.
“Mm, I will. Thank you.” Silent gratitude for him being sweet enough to let you off the tether, you take it as a signal of freedom and try to get up. Before being interrupted.
“Stay down, Saint.”
Ghost enters the archway of the common room; Dressed in baggy sweats and a T-shirt that shouldn't be as form-fitting as it is. A black gator mask hides the lower half of his face. He makes his way to a spot on the couch adjacent to you and Gaz.
“Your stitches are barely holding from earlier. Not allowed to be moving like that.” 
Underneath you, Gaz squirms while clearing his throat once you settle down. “Ah, actually. Ghost.” He starts, voice now sounding reluctant with trepidation. “You mind taking over for a bit? Haven’t eaten and need to piss.”
A mix between a laugh and worry crosses your mind as you pout when realizing he’d been here the whole time with you. 
“Sorry, Kyle.” Whispered as you give his shoulder a pat, looking to Ghost for whatever his plan would be. “How long was I out?”
The lieutenant scoots next to you, arms brought out to grab underneath your legs and back before gently transferring you into his lap. You can feel Gaz getting up behind you, a soft squeeze on your shoulder before he leaves. “Bout an hour ‘n half.” 
The difference between Gaz and Ghost is definitely in size, but the lieutenants body is firm and demands that you accommodate to him rather than how Gaz’s size lets his boldly mold to you. You’re still blinking slowly, sluggishly trying to reintegrate your mind into full speed. A grunt acknowledges the statement.  
“Didn’t know you had blond hair.” 
Ghost is pretty, not even in his own way, he is just simply pretty. Brown eyes contrast the lightness of his hair, some spots missing where scars trail over his scalp. His forehead also having lines from stitches done too messy, wrinkles from years of fighting, and a few freckles decorate the top bridge of his nose. A second scan shows a hairline scar over his left eyelid, a group of eyelashes being blond where the scar ends.
“You wouldn’t ‘ave known.” A huffed laugh makes his chest puff up, only looking down at you for a moment before watching the game. 
Before you can even ask another question, he voice muted. “That… doctor. He wasn’t supposed to be on base. Not even from what he did, but there was no agreement to have the facility’s medical here. Not even the command can get on here without clearance and a schedule.” 
The clench in your jaw halts your words, growing almost distant in the eyes as you digest the information. “So how did he get on base? Just lie his way through everything?”
Ghost sighs, watching one of the teams score a goal before turning back to you. 
“Yes. Fucking skunk lied his way through, altered some ID and got into medical. They say he was watching over your file and once he saw your name ping in as a combat injury, he was acting as your attending and case manager.”
It really should send more of a chill down your back than the small amount it does, rather, a sluggish feeling churning in your stomach. You’ve been through horrible things. Having eyes on you stopped phasing you a while ago.
Letting the conversation drop, you both turn your attention towards the football game to watch the halfway point. You find a place for your face to rest on his collarbone, laying yourself to use his chest like a pillow. He doesn’t react, yet in moments where the visiting team comes close to scoring a goal, his knee bounces in anticipation. 
“Did you ever play any sports?”
His knee settles before responding. “Hockey. Short time, but ‘s fun.” 
“Hm, was gonna take you for a rugby kinda guy.”
“Nah, that's more John’s style. The both of them.” The mental image of a younger pair of Johns conjures in your mind, a soft grin twitching the corners of your mouth at the thought. “Sometimes they’ll play when we’re together on leave.”
“Leave?” A pause as your eyes blink open slowly. You don’t remember closing them. “Like you guys just… Leave?”
The feeling of his large, warm, hand moving to hold your back comes when he shifts to look down at you. “Leave. When we get a break from duty.” It comes out as a question more so, his brows furrowing down.
“Oh.” Matching his confusion. “I didn’t get to have those. Nowhere to just, go.” You didn’t have a home, lost that long ago. Sadness was gaslit into happiness by telling yourself you didn’t have to pay rent, and bills, and not worrying about the economy.
Something shifts in his eyes, Ghost himself looking like a kicked puppy now as he takes in your implications. Softness emits subtly in his eyes and the way he slightly rests you on his chest when pushing you into him. 
“I’m sure you can ask Capt’ to fix that.” A soft scratch of your scalp leads you to settle down, and when you keep breathing in the smell of him, you fall asleep.
---
“... lost it by a point. Bloody coach looks like a muppet.”
“Won’t be able to show his face for the next year. Damn bloke.”
The voice sends enough of a spark to take you out of your REM cycle, now taking stock of where you’re at. From the smell of it, you’re on the couch but now lay on it instead of a body. There's a few more steps of shuffling before it stills.
“How is she?”
The warmth next to you grunts, shifting to leave the couch. “Seems fine, but fell back asleep quickly once Gaz left ‘er with me.” The new set of footsteps have a distinct gait, trying to be silent but failing with the TV no longer being on. “How’d your side go?”
“Almost got me on excessive force.” The croaky voice makes your mind wake up more, realizing its Price. “Almost knocked the brass out hearing that. Had to make sure he saw the vials and needles he snuck in.”
“Was he going to… do anyth-”
“No.” Price cuts Ghost off immediately, something lying in the tautness of his voice. “I don’t know. I don’t want to know, else I’ll fuckin’ kill ‘em.”
Exhaustion covers your body and mind, fighting it to the point where it feels like you have to unstick yourself from the couch but tingling makes your body want to still. You pull on your muscles enough that Price notices.
“Hey, pretty girl. Can you hear me?”
The groan that leaves you is enough of a signal that you can. One of his hands moves to pet your hair down as the other adjusts the blanket on you. Footsteps elsewhere fade away, signaling Ghost’s departure. Your eyes open to watch Price squat down in front of you.
“There she is.” He coo’s in a hushed whisper. Part of you wants to cry at how good it makes your heart feel. All you can manage is a whimper.
“Still tired?”
“Mhh. Yes.” Croaking makes you realize how thirsty you are, somewhat regretting not staying up to drink your water like you’d promised Gaz. “Where were you?”
Blue eyes leave the depths of your red ones, tracing over your face to your neck, down to your body, and how you lay on your uninjured side. “Taking care of business. Nothing to worry about.”
His hand comes back to your arm, making you flinch as he presses onto the tiny spot of dried blood. The small twinge of pain from his softness makes you want to scream at him, cry at him while crying for him to hold you. To give any emotion clearly while silence eats away between you.
“Did I mess up?”
The white of his eyes shows a bit more when he widens them in surprise, fliting up to hold your gaze. “No… No, Saint. You did not mess up.” In a moment, he moves to his knees, crowding you onto the couch while bringing your face closer to his. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have left you in there. Should have fuckin’ listened to you.” 
In a twisted sense, the couch seems like his pew, and you are the body he weeps over. Wrapped in a blanket is a far-off notion from any white to be buried in, but your open eyes just feel so tired and dulled from the last few days. Rightfully so. His hands cup your face like they would hold a bible open, finding scripture in the features of your face.
Price doesn’t cry. How much would it take to make him? Has he had a family? Did he lose someone he loved because of enemies? Did he have a tragic backstory that granted him an almost immortal sense of luck?
There’s certainly no angel on his shoulder because you’d have fought and killed it on the first day.
“You didn’t know.” Starting hoarsely, swallowing the saliva in your mouth. “I didn’t want you to know.”
There's dissatisfaction from hearing your answer, a pull at the corners of his mouth. “I need to know, Saint. I have to know. That’s not goin’ to happen again.” Leaning down to press his chapped lips to your forehead. “I’m sorry.”
The feeling of his hair in your hands is surprisingly soft, almost as surprising when you realize you’re bringing him in to kiss you. 
It’s soft, languid, and slow, yet anxiety boiling at the bottom of your stomach. His lips part yours, leading you to taste the tobacco you tried days ago. His mustache and beard scratch your face, prickling your skin in an added sense of feeling to grapple onto. Dragging you closer with an arm wrapped behind your back, his tongue teases yours before diving in deeper.
“While this is sickeningly romantic,”
The voice makes you gasp like a whore in her lover's shared bed, the drawl sardonic enough to know it is exactly not that.
It’s so much worse.
“I rather prefer a different type of scene.” 
The woman stands against the doorway, arms crossed while she surveys the scene. Dressed in black pants and a turtleneck, her blue eyes light up with the white overcoat that shields her from the coldness of desert nights.
“Kate-” Price backpedals, separating himself from you enough to sit up straight from his place on the floor. Stuttering, he glances at you before back to her, a blush fading into existence on his aged skin. “I- uh. What are you doing here?’
Kate Laswell, smirks before looking at you with a slightly softer expression. She’s still cocky through and through from catching her prestigious ally making out with his little demon. 
“After the shit show got up the ladder, I decided to make a quick trip to check-in. And, you never called me back, Captain.” 
Ok, now it is starting to seem like a lovers quarrel. Feeling out of place, you don't move until Price takes a moment to clear his throat, leaning forward as if to obstruct you from her view.
“Well, I’m assuming it’s more serious than a phone call let it out to be.” Standing his hand brushes your shoulder before he crosses his arms. Laswell watches, moving forward a bit. Her eyes glance towards you, a subtle nod in greeting.
“Pleasure to meet you, Saint. Sorry to interrupt.” Absolutely no shame eludes from this woman. Continuing on, she holds Price’s gaze;  “A base just got accredited for their first hybrid operator. Similar to our situation with Saint.” She takes a moment to look over you, briefly checking out the remainder of the IV bag on its stand. “Need you to go do didactics for our friends.”
“And which friends are you speaking of this time.” 
She pauses, a flicker of her lips turning upwards if only for a moment. 
“You’ll be headed back to Las Almas.”
As if watching a dramatic TV show, your eyes flit back to take in his reaction. If you had the energy, you’d feel bad for Price’s stress levels. With the sigh he lets out, you know that he can never catch a break.
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slippinmickeys · 19 hours
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Happy Birthday to one of my favorite writers!! I hope it was a good one. If you’re still doing drabbles my one word prompt to you is “funfetti” because that is synonymous with birthday imo 🥳
Thank you so much!
Between them, William sleeps fitfully, his scrawny colt-like leg poking out of the covers and twitching into Scully’s ankle. He is almost as tall as she is. Mulder had moved a nightlight into the bedroom when the boy had come in at 2 am, complaining of a sore throat. In the weak light, Scully can see a sheen of fever-sweat over his brow. It’s almost time for Ibuprofen.
He’d shown no tell-tale signs of impending illness earlier in the day, was full of the boundless energy of 9, and had spent the morning holed up with Mulder in the garage tinkering with the old lawnmower. He’d asked for a triple-decker PB&J for lunch and then begged Scully to help him make funfetti cupcakes even though he still had grease under his fingernails. He’d somehow convinced Mulder to let him eat four. If anything she’d have guessed an upset stomach, but here they are with what is likely strep.
From William’s other side Mulder sighs in his sleep, shifting on the narrow bit of mattress not taken over by his son. A moment later, Scully hears the same gentle sigh from William. Then it’s a sniff, then a cough, and then a feeble “Mom?”
“Shh, it’s okay.” She reaches out to feel his forehead, then the soft, taut skin of his back. The fever is still there, but low grade. “It’s time for Ibuprofen,” she says softly, unable to keep herself from sliding her hand up his back to finger the ducktail of hair at the base of his skull.
“Okay,” the boy says. He’s old enough to take pills but still prefers the cherry stuff.
“I’ll get it,” Mulder rumbles, and slides out of bed, coming back a minute later holding the little cup. He clicks on his bedside light then throws a tee shirt over the top of it when Will squints uncomfortably at the brightness.
In the hazy, muted light, the boy sits up and throws back the medicine.
“I have Little League tomorrow.”
Scully glances at the clock. 5:45. He has Little League today.
“I’ll call your coach,” she says, already cataloging the other things she needs to do: schedule an appointment with the pediatrician, call the school, see if Barr can take her 9:00 am autopsy.
“But we’re playing the Blue Jays,” the boy whines. “They need my bat.” His last word is cut off by a short burst of coughing.
“It’s still spring ball, bud,” Mulder says gently. “You guys aren’t going to miss the playoffs if you miss one game.”
“They'll lose without me,” he says sullenly.
The boy is probably right, but arguing the statistical probability of a win or loss of the Farr’s Corner U-10 Tigers without William Mulder’s bat is not something she’s willing to get into before 6:00 am.
“You need to try to get some more sleep,” she says.
The boy settles back into the pillows unhappily.
Mulder turns off the light and pulls on the tee shirt that was covering it and Scully thinks about the bulb-warmed fabric sliding over his skin.
He comes around to her side of the bed and squeezes her elbow with a smile and then shuffles down the dusty hallway toward the kitchen.
Beside her, William turns over and sighs into her arm, his body going gradually limp with sleep. The clock beside her flicks another minute higher, then another.
She smells the warm tang of coffee and the boy beside her shifts and the sky turns the barest pink and the Earth spins, spins, spins.
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simplydannie · 1 day
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Hi, I have a few of "What if" list in Under Rageous: The Runaways, sorry if this might bit too long:
What if Velvet caught Cressida earlier trying to touch Veneer? The situation might get worse like these two might get into fight and I don't know who will win 😥?
What if the twins didn't manage to escape from her? All I can think of is in present day, Veneer's situation would be more like Beverly Marsh from 2017 movie IT, until he accidentally killed her as self-defense.
Not really a "What if" but, imagine, Velvet keeps really blame herself and cry for not saving her brother from Cressida's assault, even though he keeps saying "Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault, it's never be your fault"
Hehe, thanks 😁
You brought soooo many great ideas! Okay let me see if I can answer them in a really short story type of format. Here we go! I’ll separate them by bulletin points. Also, TRIGGER WARNING ‼️:
Red Handed:
Velvet grew concerned. It was silent… too silent. Something wasn’t right. Velvet throw the blankets off of her and quietly began to make it down to her brothers room. Walking by Cressida room, she noticed her door was open… she wasn’t there.
“No…no, no, no.” Velvet repeated to herself. Her pace quickened, she now bolted to her brother’s room. The door was closed…but it wasn’t locked. Velvet pushed open the door with such force….
…..Her heart sank. She saw her brother lying on the bed, her aunt hovering over him, attempting to slide her hands down his shorts. Veneer had tears in his eyes, attempting to hold her hand away from touching him any further.
“WITCH!” Velvet ran and jumped on Cressida. Velvet began hitting her, beating her. Cressida was twice her size, but Velvets furry and anger made her twice as strong. She put her aunt in a chokehold.
“HOW DARE YOU!” Velvet tightened her grip around her neck, she began cutting her air. “DONT YOU EVER TOUCH IM AGAIN!” Tighter and tighter she gripped.
“Velvet!” Veneer called out attempting to stop her. But she then turned around into beating Cressida l. She landed blow after blow on her face.
“VELVET!” Veneer grabbed her fist before she could his their aunt again.
“She touched you Ven!”
“I’m okay now. I’m okay.” Veneer hugged her tightly. He knew she was just trying to protect her, but killed their aunt would put her into trouble. He looked down at Cressida… blood was all over her face…but she was alive, barely. Velvet grasped his hand, she turned and spat at their aunt as she lay unconscious on the floor.
“HAG!” She cried as she pulled Veneer and bolted out the front door.
No More
The only happiness Veneer knew, was either being outside from home, or when Velvet was there. When his sister was around, Cressida wouldn’t dare touch him…. Velvet didn’t know, he didn’t dare tell her.
He was twelve when it first happened, now he was seventeen. Five years…. Five years of pain and disgust. It didn’t help that as became more attractive as he grew. It began with just touching, but by fifteen, his innocence was taken away… it only got more frequent after that.
He cringed at physical touch now. Velvet would reach to take something off his shirt, he’d flinch. She’d arch an eyebrow, but he wouldn’t say much. Veneer knew the furry that was inside his sister. He knew that she was capable of killing Cressida when she’d find out.
Many times it would happen in the middle of the night. Velvet would be sound asleep. When Cressida was in the mood she’d sneak over to his room… and lock it, then having her way with him. He’d close his eyes until everything was over, feeling disgusting at the end.
One day, Velvet was out far longer than normal. He began to panic as his aunt came home early. He locked himself in his room, hoping he’d be safe, hoping she’d forget.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
Veneer hugged his knees tighter.
“Come on sweetheart. Open the door.” He heard his aunts voice boom from the other side.
“No.” He said firmly.
“Open…. The door. Now.” Her voice was firmer as she began to jiggle the handle.
“No!” He covered his ears. The door shook harder and harder until she was able to bolt it open. Fear shot in his eyes as she made her way towards him.
“You don’t EVER so no to me!” She yelled pushing him on his back. He struggled to get her off of him. Even after what she had done to him, he still didn’t want to hurt her… but she was making it harder. He wanted to leave this behind, grab his sister, and leave.
“Please just stop! I don’t want this anymore!” He begged.
“Stop being ridiculous.” She went to move down his pants.
“Stop!” He pushed her off and stumbled to his feet…. He was growing desperate. She tried pulling back by his feet. Cressida slapped him across the face, but this time Veneer didn’t submit, he was done….. no more, he wanted no more.
“Please! Stop!” He begged again. But she kept pursuing, ripping his shirt in attempt to pull him back. She kept striking him and hitting him…. Desperation was peaking, he reach for something, anything.
“STOP!” He turned, stabbing his aunt with a pair of scissors he was able to grab. She grunted in pain, a look of surprise across her face. It took her a moment, until she finally went limp and fell to the floor….her breathing stopped.
“…. Oh my god….” He covered his mouth with his hands. “…. Oh my god…. Oh my god….” Tears began to fill his eyes. What did he do? What would Velvet think of him?… he was a monster….. he was a killer. He shrunk down and hugged his knees…. He was a murder.”
I’m Sorry
Velvet sat at her vanity, staring at herself…it was an hour before the concert. She promptly did her make as victory rang across her mind… they did it…. They made it to the top. Them, some loser teens from no where. A triumphant smile spread across her lips.
“Who’s a nobody now.” She murmured as she gazed upon herself in the mirror. All those who told them that were now beneath her, like ants, she squashed them. The loosers at school, the punks down in the under city, their aunt….her mind faded into darkness.
Aunt Cressida. That hag. The one who…. Velvet went silent as those thoughts filled her mind…. The one who took advantage of her brother. All that time, and Velvet didn’t know. All that time Veneer quietly suffered in pain.
“….. it was my fault…” she glumly told herself. If she had noticed it sooner, the sooner the would’ve been safe.
“Vels! Are you almost done? It’s almost show….” Veneers words were cut short as he walked into her dressing room. Velvet was bent over her vanity in tears. “Vels?” He quickly ran to her side.
“Leave me alone Veneer!” She demanded as she felt his hand on her shoulder, avoiding his gaze.
“No. What’s wrong? What’s going on?” She was fine just a moment ago.
She wipes the tears from her eyes, “I said go away!” She couldn’t look at him.’she couldn’t imagine the filth their aunt did to him those nights.
Veneer attempted to meet her gaze, “Tell me!” He demanded.
She never met his eyes. “It’s my fault…”
“What?”
“What that hag did to you….its my fault.”
Veneer cocked his head to the side, “…Velvet…that was… that was awhile ago… why are you…”
“BECAUSE ITS MY FAULT VENEER! If I… If I would’ve known, acted sooner… and she’s still running free!” Velvet buried her face in her hands against as she felt the tears begin to form. There was no seat for him to sit, so he knelt down in front of her.
“How many times do I have to say it… no it isn’t. None of what happened is your fault, Vels. You were already trying to protect us…”
“But I didn’t Veneer! I let her do what she did to you! You suffered for so long!….. I’m sorry.” Her shouldered began to shudder as she began to cry. He knew there would be nothing he could say that would change her mind…Velvet was stubborn like that. Instead he embraced her, holding her close, making sure she felt he was okay.
“It will never be your fault, Vels…”
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robbybirdy · 2 days
Text
Boston Cream Cake Pt II
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Hey, every birdy. Now that you have seen the original recipe for the Boston Cream Cake. You will understand that I can’t replicate it. I was talking to Pop (my dad) about what I should do as a milestone marker for 1K followers, and he suggested that I share this recipe with you all and then do the math. For those of you who don’t know, math has never really been my strong suit. 
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So I have no idea how this is going to go. I am doing this post a bit differently. I am going to write up my equation and measurements that I got, and then I am going to bake the cake with the measurements and see if it is right. 
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Another reason why I needed to do this was because I didn't want to use a lot of eggs. In the whole recipe that I converted I am only going to be using 9 eggs, which seems like a lot but in contrast, really isn’t. 
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The equation that I came up with was:
Lbs = cups/ 100 = measurement then convert to grams = grams / 2 = measurement needed 
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This makes no sense written like this. But let me show you how I figured it out with the first ingredient of the cake shortening. 
The original recipe calls for 21 lbs of shortening. 
21 lbs of shortening are 43.81 cups. 43.81/100 equals 0.43 cups. 0.43 cups is equal to 93 grams. 93 grams divided by 2 is 46.5 grams or 3 Tablespoons. So it is a bit complicated but I want to see if my math works. 
I hope you all are still with me, and didn’t fall asleep with all the numbers. 
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So with that being said. For the cake this is my number and for the simplicity of everything. I am going to keep the ingredients in grams. 
47 grams shortening
136 grams of cake flour (All Purpose minus 1 tablespoon. And add 1 tablespoon of cornstarch)
84 grams sugar
1 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
1 tsp milk 
4 eggs 
43 grams water 
½ vanilla
½ tsp butter 
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The directions for the recipe will be the same. Put the cake shorting, flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and milk powder in a large bowl. 
Add water, vanilla, and butter slowly until ingredients come together, making sure to scrape down the sides. 
Next, you are going to add the eggs and mix for 3 minutes. 
Scrape down the bowl and continue until well mixed. 
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This is where it is going to be different. 
Instead of using the 1-pound 8 oz pans. I am going to be using 9-inch cake pans. Because I don’t want to slice the cake in half horizontally. I think and hope that it will work. Only future Robby will know that information. 
Now onto the filling. Using the same equation for the cake recipe. 
390 grams of milk
102 grams of sugar 
2 Tbsps Cornstarch
5 eggs
½ tsp vanilla
Put all the ingredients in a pan and cook until thickened. Ice the cake with frosting. 
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The frosting, using the same equation
113 grams sugar
½ Tbsp Karo syrup 
3 teaspoons water
½ Tablespoon Shortening
6 Tablespoons Cocoa Powder
¼ tsp vanilla
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Put all ingredients in a pan. Heat until smooth. Ice the cake on top only. Hopefully, my math is correct and it makes only one cake. 
Prediction: I think it is going to be a balanced dessert if nothing else. Because from the looks of it, the cake itself isn’t extremely sweet. It’s the filling and the frosting that is sweet. And I hope that it comes out looking and tasting good. I will always have my parent’s voice in my head “it doesn’t matter what it looks like, as long as it tastes good!”
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Result: 
MY MATH WAS CORRECT. 
I am so excited that it came out, and was edible. I can’t believe it. I mean I can, but I am a bit shocked. Because again math was never really my strong suit back in school. Even with saying that though one math class that I took in college was literally a math class called “Math of Cooking.”
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Everyone told me that it tasted really good. My only criticism about this particular cake and my measurements would be to add a little bit more flour to the cake recipe. And maybe even a little bit more milk. Because when I took the cakes out of the oven they kinda looked like pancakes rather than cakes. So if I were to make the recipe again (which I think I might because it was fun to make. )
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As we were going to bed, my mom told me that her only criticism was that she needed more custard in the middle. She said that it was good and she just needed a bit more. This was nice to hear. I had forgotten how to make a custard because I didn't temper the eggs before putting them on the stove. So there was a little part of me that was afraid that I was putting sweet scrambled eggs on my cake. 
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My dad told me that he really liked the frosting and how I put it together. You should have seen us at Walmart the three of us (Mom, Pop, and I) trying to figure out what in the world “royal fudge” was and he was the one who ended up figuring it out. 
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The moments when I am cutting the cake are sometimes the longest. Because some people have the dessert and they don’t want to say anything until I am in the room. To give me the results. Sometimes I don’t know if they are quiet because they are stifling a laugh about how weird it tastes, or if they are quiet because of how good it is. Thankfully with this cake, it was the latter. And I am so grateful. They all said that it was really good.
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It wasn’t overly sweet. This is something that I strive for when baking because a dessert that is too sweet is not something that I want to give my family. I don’t know. It’s just a personal thing. I just don’t like overly, sickeningly sweet desserts. 
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I am so over the moon that this worked. Thank you all for your likes, comments reblogs, and follows. You have helped me in more ways than one. And I hope that you continue to follow my journey. 
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Thank you once again for helping me get to 1000 followers. I love each and every one of you, and I hope to see you in the next post. 
Oh my gosh this was a long one. But, I had such a fun time putting this post together. I hope you liked it as much as I did.
Here is the condensed version of the recipe. Without the equation.
Boston Cream Cake
47 g shortening
136 g Cake Flour (I used all-purpose flour + 1 Tbsp of Cornstarch)
84 g sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp milk
4 eggs
43 g water
1/2 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp butter
Put cake shortening, flour, sugar baking powder, salt, and milk powder in a very large bowl. Add water, vanilla, and butter flavor slowly until the ingredients come together. Scrape down the bowl. Next, add eggs, slowly mix for 3 minutes, scrape the bowl, and continue until well mixed. I used 2 - 9-inch cake pans, (if you want them to come out more like cake and less like pancakes,) I suggest using 2 8-inch cake pans. Bake at 350 for 25 minutes. Spread with cream filling (recipe Follows)
Boston Cream Filling :
390 g milk
102 g sugar
2 Tbsp Cornstarch
5 eggs
1/2 tsp vanilla
1/4 tsp salt
Put all ingredients in a pan and cook until thickened. The next time I make this recipe I will do this part differently. I will heat up the milk and sugar first. And when it gets to simmer I will temper my eggs and cornstarch. and I will add the vanilla and salt when it is all done. Ice the cake with frosting
Chocolate frosting for Boston Cream Cake:
113 g sugar
1/2 Tbsp Karo Syrup
3 teaspoons water
1/2 Tablespoon shortening
6 Tbsps cocoa powder
2 Tbsps milk
1/4 tsp vanilla
1/8 tsp salt
Put all ingredients in a pan, and heat until smooth. Ice the cake on the top only. Or where it wants to go. And enjoy
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bytheangell · 7 months
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Hey I saw your plea for prompts!!! No pressure if you're not interested, but could I have a 54 for Thomastair fluff and/or hurt/comfort? "It's you and me against the world?"
(Read on AO3) "I'm going to tell them." 
Thomas says the words with a resolute tone and a small nod of his head. Thomas is sitting on the other side of the sofa, a notebook in front of him that’s meant to be filled with notes but looks far too empty for how long they’ve been sitting there. 
"Tell who what?" Alistair asks, looking up from his book with a cocked eyebrow. Despite Thomas making his declaration as if giving an answer to end a conversation, it's been silent between them for nearly half an hour. Alastair could tell that there's something on Thomas' mind but he's found that if he doesn't push it, Thomas is more likely to open up on his own.  
"Everyone everything," Thomas replies unhelpfully.  
Alastair purses his lips together, wondering if Thomas is being intentionally obtuse simply to mess with him. 
"About us, I mean," Thomas adds quickly at the sight of Alastair's expression.  
Alastair wonders where this is coming from all of a sudden.  Not that he isn't thrilled at the idea,  but… well, he knows Thomas' friends and he can't say he's eager to see their reactions.  
"Why the sudden change of heart?" 
"Because you've changed my heart." 
It's such a simple, sincere reply yet it sends Alastair's heartbeat racing with a giddiness he'd deny until his dying day.  
"And your friends?" Alastair can't help but ask.  
"They'll understand. They'll come around eventually.  And if they don't…" Thomas' newfound resolve waivers for the first time. He swallows thickly but pushes through without much hesitation. "... if they don't, then that's their loss. I love you, Alastair, and I want everyone to know it, even if it's you and me against the world." 
Alastair is so moved by that simple sentiment that he blinks a few times in rapid succession to make sure there’s no danger of unexpected tears being shed. 
“Every time I think I have you figured out, you surprise me in the best of ways,” Alastair says, placing his book down on the table in front of him. He shifts over to sit closer to Thomas, bringing a hand up to cup the side of Thomas’ face before kissing him the best he can through the impossibly large smile on his face. 
“So I take it you’re okay with me telling them, then?” Thomas asks when they finally pull away. “They may be awful to you, or- ”  “Hey, hey,” Alastair cuts Thomas off, shaking his head and taking Thomas’ hands in his own.  “However they react, I can handle it. We can handle it. Together. You and me against the world, remember?”
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sysig · 5 months
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Can we see the Charm bear please
Yes!!
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Look at her! She's so cute!
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It's a little hard to see, but her fur has that swirl-pattern to it that looks like subtle flowers, or in Charm's case, cotton candy :D She also smells like cotton candy!!
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