#well HI THERE!!! it HAS been a minute! :D hope youre doing well!!! i'm hanging in there!

[queenofbaws]

well hello there your majesty

very long time no see no hear. how are you doing? Can you write nr 5 from the bedsharing prompt with jossam please? and with hannah and beth mad at them

thank you bye bye 👋

definitely more than six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

“Let me ask you this,” Josh said, insinuating himself between his sisters as was so often his wont, throwing an arm around either of their shoulders and settling his weight on them such that both groaned as their knees threatened to buckle. “Would the situation be less awkward for you two if I told you it wouldn’t be the first time we’d done it?”

“Oh God, oh no, oh God, oh geez, oh ew, ew, ew, ew, ewwwww-uh!” Hannah didn’t push him off of her as he might’ve expected. What she did instead was cover her ears with both hands (“A little too late for that, Hanners, don’t you think?”) and pull her entire body in on itself like she was trying to implode. When the universe didn’t suck her into a black hole, she wriggled out from his grasp in one hard spasm of disgust.

Beth, on the other hand, ever the level-headed one, just narrowed her eyes and proceeded to give him the hardest pinch of his life right in the meat of his arm. “Why the fuck would that make things better, you pervert?!”

Joining Hannah in a chorus of sounds (“Ew, ew, ew” vs. “Ow, ow, ow!”), Josh tapped out of the conversation, doing his best to shove Beth off of him. It didn’t work, but he tried, and that’s what mattered.

Still standing in the doorway, Sam just…well, she watched them is what she did, her arms folded over her chest and her eyebrows about as high as they could go. “Guys,” she started, only for both of the twins to whirl on her with very, very different looks of betrayal on their very, very similar faces. “I – wow, okay, geez. I think what Josh was trying to say just now is that we’ve all been friends for a really long time, and we’ve had enough overnighters where, yeah, all right, we’ve definitely – ”

Seeing there was no reality in which Beth was going to stop pinching him like that unless he did something drastic, Josh buckled down and did just that: something drastic. He quickly scanned through his mental collection of all the worst words a human being could use in any given situation, and grabbed the first one that occurred to him. “Porked.”

“Oh God!” Hannah groaned, her handy-dandy earmuffs clearly doing nothing to protect said ears. “Shut up, shut up, shut uuup!”

Beth did stop pinching him, though, which was a plus. She pushed him as hard as she could, yeah, but at least the pinching was done with. “Eugh!”

That left Sam between a rock and a hard place. See, if she laughed (which she really wanted to do), there was no question in her mind that both Hannah and Beth would turn on her, and that wasn’t exactly her idea of a fun weekend getaway. If she didn’t laugh, Josh’s feelings would be hurt, and she’d be the one to pay for it later; there was nothing worse than almost falling asleep only for the person next to you to slide their icy fucking feet and/or hands right against your bare skin. Literally nothing.

Except…except maybe Hannah and Beth tearing her face off and eating it for siding with their brother. Okay, her decision was made.

“Hey. Hey! Time out, huh team?” she joked, making the appropriate gesture with her hands. “Look, you guys said it yourselves, okay? This place is great, but the fact of the matter is, everyone’s gonna have to sleep two to a bed! Everyone else already has their buddies, neither of you two wants to bunk with Josh, so…”

“So we’ll make everyone switch up,” Beth said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world and not grounds enough to start a new Civil War. “Since when does Chris bunk with anyone but Josh anyway?!”

“I think we all know the answer to that question,” Sam responded flatly.

Clearly having the worst day of her young life, Hannah pressed her palms even harder to her ears. “EW!”

“Okay, I…Han, I didn’t even say anything there.”

“You suggested!”

Sam heaved an exhausted sigh. Was this what the whole trip was going to be like? “Okay. Look. Here’s what I think.” Taking a page out of Josh’s book, she got up from where she’d been leaning, gathering Hannah and Beth under either of her arms. Given how small she was, Sam had a little more difficulty with it than Josh had, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Hannah was still squirming, but Beth wasn’t pinching her, so she took it and ran with it. “I think,” she continued, slowly and subtly leading them towards the door. “Everyone’s just a tiny bit stressed from the long drive. We all need to just, y’know…get some fresh air, and stretch our legs, maybe take a nap or have a snack, and then we can – ”

Acting before either of them could realize what was happening, Sam shoved the twins with all her might, slamming and locking the bedroom door shut behind them. There was a moment of silence…and then the furious knocking began, both of them yelling like what she’d done was tantamount to high treason.

“You just gotta get used to it, that’s all!” Sam called through the door, cupping her hands to her mouth. “You’ll see! It’ll be fine!”

And then, because the threat of future pinches obviously wasn’t enough to deter him, Josh joined her there are the door, similarly cupping his hands to his mouth. “Yeah, ladies, it’ll be fine! Like your good pal Sammy here! Who I will be taking to the bone zone later!”

“Josh,” she snickered, giving him a pinch of her own. “They’re going to kill you the second we step out there, you get that, right?”

“Guess it just means we can’t leave, Sam,” he grinned. “Oooh, what a fun vacay this is going to be…”

#save-the-dandelions #six sentence weekend #queenie writes supermassive #jossam #well HI THERE!!! it HAS been a minute! :D hope youre doing well!!! i'm hanging in there! #better now that ive got some jossam going ;P heheheheheh

[gatitties]

hi so can you do a fic where The straw hats thought we died but when they retuned to scabaody we also come back?

Like the straw hats are like

WAIT YOUR NOT DEAD? HUH

─Strawhats x reader

─Summary: Everything seems to fall apart before their eyes when you die, only to find out that you were enjoying yourself in Sabaody and not in your grave.

─Warnings: none

lmao this was fun to write for no reason 😭🤌🏻

The loss of a loved one is a difficult battle, everyone on this crew has experienced at least one death of a family member or someone close to them to call them family, they hoped that pain would not damage their hearts again, unfortunately, you shattered their hearts when they found your limp body on Sky Island when you decided to go your own way.

With their hearts in their throats and their eyes red, they had to say goodbye to you bitterly, burying your body in a cluster of soft clouds, they were silent for a minute until Luffy was the first to give the signal to leave, he knew you would have liked that they were not so sad and that their adventures had not yet ended like yours.

They lamented your lack of presence, you always made everything a little more enjoyable with your nonsense, you managed to fit in perfectly with each of them and although you were not the smartest, most cunning or powerful on the team, they did not expect your early departure.

It was when they arrived at Sabaody for the first time that they thought they were going crazy, thinking that they had gotten over your loss, someone strangely like you seemed to be hanging around that island.

Luffy could clearly see how you were riding some attractions, Nami was confused when she saw you trip over a huge root, Chopper thought that the smell of disinfectant had made him hallucinate and see you eating cotton candy, Usopp simply thought he saw a ghost, Brook thought you came back from the dead to exact revenge when he saw you beating up a couple of guys who seemed to bother you, Franky could only catch your laugh, but it was so similar that he thought his brain was playing tricks on him, Zoro and Sanji bumped into you, but neither you nor they were paying attention as something bigger was catching everyone's attention and practically everyone was jostling each other.

While, oblivious to all the suffering, pain and coping that your companions had to do, you woke up buried in clouds a while ago, managing to get down and reach Sabaody miraculously like a stowaway on another pirate ship, you had planned to look for them and scold them a little for thinking you were dead, but your plans were thwarted when you found the island too much interesting, well, you had been 'dead' for a while, it was okay if you enjoyed a little time at the attractions before looking for your companions.

The thing is that you got so distracted and forgot to find them, if it weren't for the fact that, coincidentally, Jinbe ─who you didn't know since you didn't get to know him─ recognized you from the brief conversations they had with him about you, he was waiting in the queue to buy something and you were just behind, you started a chat to kill time.

"You look terribly like a person who died in the crew I'm part of now, I mean, because of the descriptions they made."

"Oh…"

The blood on your face disappeared at his words, remembering now that you had a crew to return to, and that in fact you were that supposedly dead person, you laughed nervously, wanting to resume your search, although there was no need.

"Hey, Jinbe, here! We were looking for you."

You blinked like an owl as you saw Luffy greet him with his characteristic smile, calming down as you saw the others walking a little further behind calmly, you smiled fondly when you saw them, making eye contact for a second with your captain as you sipped the drink you had gotten before, he casually greeted you by saying your name and you waved back, focused on finishing your drink.

"Wait a moment, you…" he narrowed his eyes looking at you again, drawing the attention of the others "Are you the twin of our dead comrade!?"

You choked on your own drink, Chopper patting you on the back.

"No uh- in fact it's me, the original, only and loved-"

"WEREN'T YOU DEAD!?"

You covered your ears when you heard Nami's scream, your tongue went dry and your body seemed to get smaller when you saw her gaze, everyone had different emotions reflected ─Luffy and Zoro were still a little confused because they really thought you have a twin─ but Nami was the most furious, she started hitting and pushing you.

"GIVE ME BACK THE TEARS I SHED FOR YOU!"

"AW, OH, SORRY!? YOU LEFT ME FOR DEAD!"

You ran in circles avoiding the navigator, protecting your head from her light blows while you apologized for not having warned that you 'rose from the dead'.

"Well, who knows, maybe it's a zombie."

"Robin, you're not helping me."

You whimpered, hiding behind Sanji and Franky, waiting for Nami to calm down, it wasn't a reunion like you planned ─you didn't plan anything─ but everyone felt a little relieved, leaving behind the bitterness of losing a partner and enjoying your company now that you were with them again.

#op #one piece #one piece x reader #strawhats #strawhats x reader #request #reader insert #sfw

[safination]

Partners in Death…And Life

Part 4: The Radio Stars’ Co-host Just Wants To Do The Dishes

|Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From the Radio Should be Trusted| Part 5: Glimpse of Me and You| |Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Parings: Alastor x wife! Reader. Tags: fem!reader established relationships, hopefully not but just in case ooc!Alastor (I'm trying my best, guys) Reader is in hell for a reason, Warnings: Very brief dissection of the human body. Kidneys Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem. It’s me. I am sorry :D. These past *checks notes* three weeks (yikes) have been really busy for me. But I’m finally posting?

The light from the bus stop illuminates Alastor’s block handwriting. Smiles are drawn on the edges of note with different colored ballpoint pens. Dear God, it was like looking at kindergarten art, but you appreciate it nonetheless. Alastor’s instructions tell you that his house is a ten-minute walk from the bus stop.

You flip the note, studying the map Alastor drew.

A bird caws from the patches of trees across the road. There’s no living soul out here besides your own for miles.

You tighten your grip on the straps of your bag, and walk until you find yourself standing before a wooden gate. The hatch unlocks easily, and you hike up the path until you’re stepping on to the porch. Alastor’s house isn’t much—well, it’s much more than the tiny apartment in the city that you call home, but besides that, he has a very normal looking house. You don’t know why you expect anything different. The flowers on his windowsill brighten the place, and the rocking chairs by the edge makes it homier.

You smoothen your hair, fiddling with the note. A deep inhale, and then another deep inhale, and then another deep inhale, and then another deep inhale, and then another—

Fuck it. You knock on the door.

A beat passes, and then another beat passes, and then another. Oh God, did he not hear your knock? Should you knock again? Your father always said that it was rude to knock twice, but you’re sure the knock should have been heard. Alastor was probably at the back of the house. You’re just going to knock again.

Alastor swings the door open, smiling at you. “You are right on time!”

Soft music plays behind him. The lights inside make his living-room look warm. “You said to be here by eight … so … Here I am!” you say with a light laugh. It doesn’t come out as you hope. “I’m very fond of being punctual.” Okay…hmmm…why did you say that?

You smoothen your hair, and fiddle with the straps of your bag.

 “I admire punctuality.” Alastor smiles at you.

You smile back.

He opens the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”

‘Yes.’

‘Right.’

‘Of course I would!’

All proper responses to his question. It’s a shame you don’t say them. You reach into your bag instead, and shove a paper bag into his arms. “It’s raw.”

Alastor lifts the paper bag, studying it with careful eyes until they flicker to the wet patches at the bottom. “…I’m almost afraid to ask who it came from.”

You step through the door, and take off your coat. “My father, actually.”

Alastor tilts his head. “This is your father—am I supposed to cook him or something?”

“It’s venison!” you say, and run your hand through your hair. “Dad went hunting last week, and he gave me a bunch of meat and well…well, I thought you'd appreciate it more than I do. There’s too much for me to eat alone. And it’s always polite to give a gift when you’re visiting a home.”

Alastor secures your gift around his arms, and takes your coat. He’s smiling. You think he’s being genuine—you can’t really tell. “Thank you.”

He hangs your coat on the rack, and ushers you deeper inside his home. Alastor disappears into what you think is his kitchen, but you stay planted in his living-room floor. His house is nice for someone who lives alone. Things all have a place, they’re not necessarily organized, but it’s neat. It makes you smile.

It’s easy to see Alastor between the walls.

This is a home that’s been lived in. You count at least three portable radios in the living-room alone. There are books on the coffee table by the window, and the spines are creased as if it’s been read over and over and over again. There’s a chair next to the window as well. It has stains, and the cushions sink as if they’ve been loved for decades. You can practically see Alastor in that chair, a warm drink in his hand. He’ll reach across, and twist the knob of the radio that already has his favorite station tuned.

Alastor strides out of the kitchen, your gift probably inside his freezer. “Follow me,” he says with a wave of his arm. “I have something to show you.”

“Oh…okay.”

There are photo frames lining the wall of his stairs. You observe it as you follow deeper into this house. Some are photographs of what you’re going to assume is Alastor, and some are certificates. You don’t have time to poke around and read each and every one of them.

Alastor opens his arms, shaking them as he presents you with a door.

A single door…One door at the back of the house. A door you don’t know where it will lead.

You stare at him, and take one single step back. “You’re not going to kill me in your basement, right?”

Alastor laughs at you, wiping a tear for the sake of showing you. “Good heavens no! Why would you ever think that?”

“Because I’m inside a man’s house, and he’s currently leading me to the basement. A man, might I add, dumps bodies in the forest,” you tell him with a wonky smile. “I hope you don’t go around asking every lady to your murder basement.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“My goodness, you really know how to make a lady feel extra special.” You fiddle with the straps of your bag, tightening your grip to stifle the urge to smoothen your hair. “So, how do you want to do this?”

Alastor tilts his head. (It’s kind of cute.) “Do what?”

“You know…uh…. You’ll  tell me to run,” you say, then motion to the china vase behind. “Then I’ll grab this really nice and expensive looking vase and smash it over your head.”

“Please don’t.”

“And then I’ll make a run for the door.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You weren’t interested in running last time.”

“And I’m still not,” you say. “So there’s no point in killing me.”

He chuckles a bit and his glasses slide down his nose. He pushes it up. “Think of this as a gift! Or more like an offer of partnership.”

“A gift of death?”

“I've already told you I wasn’t planning on killing you anymore,” he says, sighing. “Just…just follow me, and you’ll see!”

You huff and cross your arms. “I detest being lied to.”

Alastor opens the basement door. The hinges creak. It appears as if darkness itself lives inside, swirling and eating up whatever light that passes through. “Yes, that’s good to know.”

You take another step back. “That’s a really creepy basement.”

“You haven’t even been inside yet,” Alastor says. He places a light hand on your back, practically pushing you down. “Now, now, don’t be so stubborn.”

You grab the door frames, and push against him to resist. “I’m not going without knowing what’s down there.”

Alastor presses on your back. “If you go down there and see what I’ve prepared, you will feel very silly for causing such a ruckus.”

You push back harder, using the door frames as support. “As first dates go, this is giving really mixed signals,” you say, trying to smile. “I hope you don’t treat all ladies like this.”

Alastor rolls his eyes. “Just the stubborn ones.”

You and Alastor are at a stalemate. He pushes. You push back. The classic dilemma of an unmovable force versus an immovable object. “If you kill me, I will haunt you,” you say, digging your feet into the wooden floors. “I will haunt you, and hide all your tacky bow ties.”

Alastor stops pushing, and you fumble backwards from the lack of his opposing force. He points his nose to the air, straightening his bow ties. “It is not.”

You frown at him. “Oh…I’m really sorry.”

“You should be.”

Taking this opportunity, you press against the wall like a hissing cat. “I’m sorry you actually believe that!”

Alastor pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes one deep breath. He strides to you, and the world goes upside-down when he flips you over his shoulder. Alastor carries you like a common sack of worthless potatoes.

“I really don’t like this!” you shriek, angling your head to glare at him. Alastor has a surprisingly really nice back. Like…a really, really nice back.

Alastor meets your eyes and smirks. “You’ll like it in a second.”

He tightens his grip around your hips, and his boney shoulders dig into your stomach. You keep your eyes ahead. “You have a really flat butt.”

He pauses for a second. “Stop looking at it.”

“I will do as I please,” you say with a huff, and go limp in his hold as you accept your fate. “It’s just all pointy. Maybe some squats will be helpful?”

“If it’s such a horror to you, stop ogling my buttocks like a pervert.”

“Now you’re just putting words into my mouth,” you say with a weird giggle. “These pants suit you well.”

He shakes you like a wet noodle. “I will drop you.”

“Please don’t.”

Alastor flips you, and your feet land safely on the ground. His basement is totally not creepy, totally not creepy at all. The fluorescent light bulb swaying around totally does not add to general horror. The blacked-out windows, and the spiderwebs on the wood make you not want to sprint to the top.

The cadaver bag on the table makes you stay.

It’s filled. You walk to the table, and observe the lump. Grasping the zipper, you pull it until the face of a dead man greets you. He’s fresh. Killed less than a day ago.

Alastor opens his arms, wide, as if to present to you. “Your studying can all be done right here!”

You stare at him, accepting the smile that creeps on your face. “Really?” you say, and trace this man’s nose with your fingers—his skin is cold. He is cold and dead, and full of organs you can poke around and observe. “You’re going to just allow me to dissect this body?”

Alastor smiles at you. “See?” he says. “You were making all the fuss, and now your smile could light up this very room.”

The laughter starts as a soft giggle that builds into excited glee. “I could kiss you right now.”

Alastor takes a step back. “Please don’t”

You roll your eyes then observe the person lying on this table. He wasn’t as big as the one before. This man still has the colors on his face, a bit pale, but he looks like he could just be in a sickly sleep. “Did you like this person?”

“Not at all,” he says. “He’d be alive if he was.”

“Then do you like me?” you say with a grin, placing a hand on your hips. “All this to get my attention, I see. I prefer being dined first, but not the worst first date I’ve ever been on.”

Alastor glares at you as he makes a face. “Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

“So quick to answer that it’s almost insulting,” you say. “Well, it was your decision to keep me alive.”

There’s a glint in his eyes that pierces your very core. The lightbulb makes a shadow pass over his eyes, and you swear his eyes glow. Every single cell in your body screams as Alastor looks down at you from his glasses with a smile and darkened brown eyes that match his well-kept brown hair. “And I’m currently debating my choice,” he says. “I do not like being mocked. I can still change my mind if I find you a weak link.”

“Oh…I…oh….,” you say dumbly, coughing a little bit.  The words aren’t doing their job.

“Do you understand me?”

Basements are supposed to be cold—you definitely don’t feel cold right now. “I’m sure you can—I don’t doubt that at all.” To break your gaze on him, you turn to the dead man between you and Alastor. “This man didn’t suffer.”

Alastor’s eyebrows raise. “And?”

“I’m not a total idiot when it comes to… uh… hunting,” you say, tilting the dead guy’s chin to see his neck. It was a bit stiff. “There’s a single deep slice on his neck. He was probably still high on adrenaline when you killed him, but with the other body, you took your time. That guy suffered—this one didn’t”

He crosses his arms. “I don’t see your point.”

“Nevermind…just…,” you start and smile a bit. “Thank you for preserving this body so well, but unfortunately, I think I’ll have to refuse.”

Alastor’s eye twitches as he takes a step closer to you. His shadow towers over you. “You’re refusing?”

You zip the man back into his bag. “You don’t need a partner,” you say. “If anything, bringing him back into your house is risky. If it’s my silence you want, you already have it. There’s no need for all this.”

“I never asked for your silence.”

“Yet it’s yours nonetheless,” you say. “Thank you for the gift or offer for partnership, but I’m not interested in going into business with you.”

“Is this not beneficial for you?”

“It is…it really is, and every fiber wants to give in but it’s not wise for me to get mixed up with you,” you tell him. “I think you’re mistaking my sin for gluttony. I know trouble when I see it, and I’m not afraid to flee from it.”

Alastor’s face twists as his smile turns into a snarl. “All you could ever want right here.”

“You obviously want something from me,” you say. “I know you’re not above using tricks to get what you want. Although, I don’t understand why you take such time out of your day to do such consuming things.”

He glares at you. “There’s always the chance that you’d say no,” he says. “And I can’t have that happen.”

“I decide if something is worth my time or not,” you say. “I will only ask once: what do you want from me?”

Alastor exhales, and pushes his glasses. “I’d like to watch you work. There’s something I want to confirm.”

You study him for a second. “That’s all?”

“Yes.”

“Then hand me a pack of gloves please,” you say. “I can show you all the things I’ve learned.”

Alastor tosses gloves to your face. It whacks you and lands on the table. You curse at him, and roll your eyes.

There’s a large container of formaldehyde under the table. You don’t know where he got it or how, but still, you take a stray brush forgotten on one of the tables, and brush the skin with chemicals. The sharp smell stings your eyes, but you’ve learned to tolerate it. Alastor scrunches his nose, taking a step back.  

Opening the window would probably be wise, but you could do that later. Your father always did hope that you’d grow out of your bad habit. But with such an exhilarating opportunity, caution is at the back of your mind.

The scapple fits into your palm as if it was made for you. Throughout this Earth, no… not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.

Alastor laughs, not the breathy and light kind, but in a loud and triumphant way. His eyes bulge out, looking like they could pop out any second “It seems I was not wrong,” he says. “You have the most precious smile I have ever seen.”

“Okay?”

Alastor leans closer to you, jerking your chin to face him. “All this time I’ve seen you; I have never seen your smile as true and honest as now.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The bristles of the brush tangle on your feathers. It’s a struggle to smoothen the feathers at the back of your head now that you live alone.

The clock strikes an hour past noon, and work will call for you soon. It would be nice to be one time if this motherfucking brush would do its fucking job! You tug on the handle, cursing when it jerks your scalp. The smack of your forehead on the vanity table echoes around the room. The feathers bundled on the floor make you screech. That’s it. It’s over. You are not taking another second of this.

Discarding the brush, you head to the kitchen.

You grab two mugs, and take two spoonful of coffee ground and feed it to the coffee machine. With only a press of a button, you make the most perfectly perfected perfect cup of coffee. You take both mugs and take a seat on that little side table inside the kitchen.

The second mug steams with coffee.

You plop your chin on the table, unable to draw your eyes aways as you stare at it. Making a second cup is a waste of your money. Deep down to your very core, you’re aware that it’s a waste. It strikes you with the gentleness of a plane crash every single morning you make it, and every single night you have to throw it away.

Silence is your companion in this empty house. Where are the days when soft music plays on the radio? Where are the days where light footsteps walk around the carpeted floors? Where are the days of stories over dinner?  These days watching television is the only way to fill that silence.

A knock breaks your pathetic moping.

The knocking starts out soft and hesitant, until it’s replaced with loud banging.

Swiping your mug from the table, you stride to the front door and swing it open. Charlie and Alastor stand in front of you, big smiles on their faces.

Your husband pushes a small ugly statue right up your face, presenting it to you with a self-satisfied smile. “I was told it was polite to bring a gift to a person’s home,” Alastor says. “Do you like it?”

“Oh no…,” Charlie says, frowning a bit. “I didn’t bring anything.”

Alastor places a hand on her shoulder. “No worries then! This gift shall be from the both of us.”

The mug slips from your hold. Charlie catches it, not a single drop spilling, and plops it back on your hand. You blink at Alastor and frown. “Why are you knocking?”

“We’re here on super serious business talk,” he says, wrapping an arm around Charlie’s shoulders to bring her closer. “Charlotte here has something to ask you.”

Charlie smiles. “Just Charlie, actually.”

You shake your head, tightening your grip on the mug. “No.”

Alastor tilts his head. “No?”

“No, this is your home,” you say, opening the door wider. “There’s no need to knock.”

Alastor and Charlie step inside, and you take a sip of your coffee—a long, drawn out sip. Alastor walks to the shelf nearest the door, placing your ugly little statue on the shelf that’s meant for all other ugly knickknacks. It blends in with all the other gifts Alastor’s given you.

Charlie’s eyes bounce around the walls, eyes wide as she looks around. “Wooooaaaaah,” she says. “This is a really nice house you guys have!”

Alastor glares at the television. “Why, thank you!” he says. “I put in a lot of care into how it looks. It seems you’ve redecorated—I don’t like it.”

“Oh, you never do,” you say. “Let’s move to the kitchen, shall we?”

Alastor’s ears straighten. “The kitchen?” he echoes. “Oh yes. Let’s go the kitchen.”

Alastor hooks his arms around yours, pulling you to the kitchen. There’s determination set in each step. You and Charlie take your seats by the kitchen table. Charlie continues to look around. You see it in her eyes as they flicker around to count each radio.

It seems you’ve made a mistake.

Alastor goes straight to the refrigerator, and swings it open.

With horror, you watch as his gaze observes each level meticulously, humming as he does. There’s not much to look at, considering the only thing inside are a couple of eggs, empty plastic containers that you’ve been too lazy to wash, last week’s takeout, and a couple of sauces and condiments.

When he finally closes it, your shoulders sink as you exhale…until, of course, Alastor wraps his fingers around the freezer’s handle.

“Would you like anything, Charlie?” Is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. “I think we have juice or lemonade—”

“We don’t have any of those,” Alastor says, and his gaze bears down on you. “It makes me wonder what will be inside our freezer, my love.”

Charlie smiles brightly. “I don’t need anything,” she says. “I had tea with Rosie this morning, and Alastor and I had lunch on the way here.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” you say, chuckling nervously. “You know what? It’s such a hellish day today, and it would be a waste to spend it here. Why don’t we move to the garden?”

“No.” Alastor crosses his arm. “We are staying right here.”

You sulk in your seat, drooping a little. “…okay.”

Finally, Alastor opens the freezer door. His twitching eyes and pursed lips tell you everything you need to know about how the next fifteen minutes will go. Carefully, with the tips of his fingers, Alastor pulls out one of those microwave meals you buy at the grocery. He glares at the frozen chicken nuggets and pork cutlets, and all the processed frozen food you store there for easy meals.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you say, giving him your most innocent smile. “And I barely eat those anyway. Those microwaved meals are just there for the occasional meal, I swear!”

Without uttering a single word, Alastor opens the cabinet under the sink where the trash can stays, and pulls it out. Empty microwave meals fill the brim. He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Oh dear…” Charlie winces. “That’s a lot, even for me.

You sulk deeper into your chair.

Alastor inspects the cabinets above the sink. The only things that greet him are a bunch of pots and pans. Relief pours into you…until of course, Alastor grabs the largest pot at the back of the cabinet and opens it, smashing any sense of relief with a metal bat.

Alastor pulls out a large pack of instant noodles. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he asks. “I remember telling you that I don’t like you eating these.”

“But they’re delicious,” you say, pouting a bit.

“These aren’t healthy,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They’re full of chemicals!”

“Everything is full of chemicals!” you counter. “And I only had a few. The dosage makes the poison.”

Alastor opens the trash can and tosses what was supposed to be your dinner. “The plastic said it was a pack of twelve?”

You cross your arms. “And? I don’t see your point.”

“There’s only two left.”

You fiddle with the handle of your mug. “I…I was busy…?”

“We’re all busy,” he says and you could pick out the faintest sound of static. “Not a single fresh fruit or vegetable, or any proper meats. Have I taught you nothing?”

Your pout deepens. “Do we have to do this in front of Charlie, my deerest?”

Charlie raises her arms in surrender. “Don’t look at me,” she says. “Aren’t you a doctor?”

“Yes, one would think….,” Alastor trails off. His eyes land on the second mug of coffee on the table, and his neck tilts to angle until it snaps. Static scratches that air until it warps. His eyes darken to reveal radio dials. “Expecting a guest today?”

You blink at him a bit dumbly, and take a long and drawn-out sip of your coffee to try and compose yourself. It doesn’t work. “I don’t make coffee for guests.”

Charlie panics a bit. “There, there Alastor,” she says. “No need to get all crazy!”

Alastor’s antlers grow. “I’m aware you don’t. So, who is it for?”

“Oh….” Dumbly blinking at him continues, and the words don’t seem to be doing their job.

Alastor leans closer, his voice morphing a bit. “I’d appreciate an answer, my love.”

“It's yours,” you find yourself saying. “…If you want it, that is.”

He blinks at you. You blink at him. Charlie blinks at the both of you.

Gone are the growing antlers, and the static that buzzes your skin. Alastor stands before you with that never ending smile, perfectly normal—well, as normal as he can be. “You weren’t aware I’d be visiting.”

You frown at him. “It’s not a visit if it’s your own home.”

“I didn’t tell you I’d be coming home,” he says. “Why make one for me?”

The heat on your face makes you turn away. “Just take it, deerest.”

“Taste lovely as always!” he says, taking a swig. Your frown turns into a soft smile as your watch him drink. “But don’t think you’re getting away from this conversation.”

“It really isn’t my fault.”

“Oh, really now?” Alastor raises his eyebrows. “I’m positive I taught you how to cook nutritious dishes.”

You flick the mug, and a soft clink echoes a bit. “I still cook proper food for myself,” you tell him, showing him your saddest smile. “But…I find myself hating the dishes.”

Alastor twirls his microphone, and it strikes the ground with a soft thunk. “And you think saying this will get you off the hook?”

You stick your tongue out. “Is it working?”

Alastor sighs at you, and turns to the ticking clock. “We’re wasting time—go talk to Charlotte.”

Charlie smiles awkwardly. “Just Charlie, actually.”

With a triumphant smile, you turn to Charlie. “So,” you begin, “what business are we going to talk about today?”

It’s Charlies turn to sulk into the kitchen chair. “Extermination is a month away,” she says. “And Adam is heading straight to the hotel first! It’s just one bad event after another because Heaven refuses to listen, and I’m running out of options.”

Alastor steps behind you. Suddenly, a brush combs through the back of your feathers, smoothing those parts of your head that you’ve never been able to reach by yourself.  Sometimes, you think Hell gave you feathers so someone could brush it for you. A part of you warms at the fact that you didn’t even need to ask your husband to smoothen your feathers. It’s a job he’s been doing since you first spawned in hell, and it seems it’s work he’s keen on continuing.

“Extermination,” you echo. “I love the extermination. There are so many desperate and poor souls who want to keep their limbs. I get rather busy—prime deal making opportunities right there.”

Charlie winces a bit. “Oh dear…um…okay. That sounds fun? And a little violent.”

Alastor speaks up from behind you, still running a brush through your feathers. “We can from Cannibal Town! Charlie was able to convince Rosie’s people to take arms.”

“Then, what brings you to me?” you ask, stiffening your back as you try not to lean into the brush that combs through your feathers. Alastor always was better at preening you. “I’m not much of a fighter.”

“Alastor suggested that I ask for your help,” Charlie says. “He said you’re one of the few people who knows how to fix wounds that come from Angelic Weapons.”

You bat your eyes at Alastor. “Spilling all my secrets, I see.”

Alastor glides the brush over your hair, leaning close to your ear. “Oh, not everything.”

You laugh and glance at Charlie. “In front of a guest, my deer?”

Charlie cringes with the most hilarious frown.

“It’s just a matter of counteracting the holiness of their weapons,” you say, clearing your throat. “After that, it’s purely medical.”

“How is that even possible?”

Alastor trails through your feathers, and it tingles and flutters. You keep your expression emotionless. “I’m surprised you don’t know this,” you say. “Did Belphegor never tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Well, eons ago, Belphegor found out that angelic weapons are considered holy, and that’s very bad for a Sinner,” you explain. “So, she and a bunch of her team found out that if you cut off the holy site or embed a large amount of Sinner energy, one will be able to treat it.”

Alastor leans closer, butting into the conversation. “I prefer it when you cut it off.”

“Of course you do,” you say with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“Embedding the wounds with your magic takes too much energy from you, and because of that you always come home to me with sunken eyes. That is, if you don’t pass out before you reach the front door,” Alastor tells you. “I don’t understand why you go out of your way when they’re not worthy.”

“Worthy?”

“Yes, worthy,” he says. “Had they been competent, they wouldn’t need to go to you in the first place. It only proves that they’re weak.”

You smile at his words. “I guess I never thought of it that way.

Charlie rolls her eyes at the both of you. “So, you could help us?”

You twist, turning to Alastor. “I think you’ve gotten all my feathers straightened out,” you say. “My love, can you do me a favor?”

Lightly, Alastor taps your head with the tip of his cane. “Of course, how can I help?”

“I think the plants need some watering.”

The brush on Alastor’s hand dissolves with a poof. He leans closer once again, trailing your cheek with his finger until they hook on your chin. He captures you with his stare, and you allow him to trap you. He presses his lips on your cheek, and disappears into his shadow.

You take an even longer sip of your coffee.

Charlie massages her forehead, eyes twitching. “Dear Satan, it’s like watching my parents all over again! I can leave, you know,” she says, snorting. “Give you two a little privacy?”

“Oh, don’t bother,” you tell her. “There wouldn’t be enough time.”

Her brows furrow. “Time?”

“After all, extermination is in a month,” you say, brightening your smile. “We’re going to need at least two.”

“What the fuuuuck,.” Charlie whispers underneath her breath, her voice a pitch higher.

“Every couple of years, there will be certain seasons where it takes six!” you say. “Sinner bodies are just so exhilarating.”

Charlie chokes on her spit, and her eyes bulge. “Are you serious?”

“Hmmm, I could be—who knows?” You raise your mug to toast, and take a drink.

“You’re joking,” Charlie says. “…Right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“My dear, is that a question you would want an answer to?” you ask. “Would you be prepared if the answer happens to be no?”

Charlie sinks deeper into her chair. “Okay, then! Moving on, now.”

Leaning on your palm, you laugh. “My deerly beloved husband wouldn’t give all this information for free,” you say. “What did he ask for?”

“We made a deal.”

Your hands drop to the table. “Oh Charlotte,” you say. “That was a foolish mistake. You don’t know what Alastor does to the so—“

“I still have my soul!” Charlie exclaims, balling her fist. “From Vaggie! From you—his own wife! I did what I needed to do to keep my people safe…Sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be so reliant on Alastor,” you tell her with a small smile. “You can’t trust him.”

“He’s given me no reason no to trust him, and…,” Charlie trails off. “And Alastor is my friend.”

Your smile brightens a bit. “Friend?”

“Yes?” Charlie says. “Everyone at the hotel is my friend, and he’s been a tremendous help.”

You place your hands over Charlies and give it a squeeze. “Convince me to help you.”

“W-what?”

“Alastor isn’t asking me to go play medic in the middle of a warzone.” Your brush your feathers out of your face. “If he was asking, I would say yes without a second thought because that’s who we are, but he isn’t asking me, Charlie, you are.”

Charlie hums, placing a finger on her lips as she thinks. “I heard from Angel that you and Alastor got married whe—“

CRASH!

She grips the table, eyes wide as she looks around. “What was that?”

You take a long and drawn-out sip of coffee, contemplating your choice for marriage. “Nothing to be worried about,” you say. “That was just my television.”

“Your Tv?” Charlie frowns a bit. “Did…did Alastor just throw away your Tv?”

You laugh, swatting your hand in the air. “Not at all!” you say. “It probably tripped out my window—those picture boxes are always so clumsy.”

Charlie raises her eyebrows. “You’re saying that your Tv…just tripped out the window.”

You smile at her. “You were saying something?”

She sighs, massaging her forehead. “You got married when you were alive, but continue to stay together. It’s very rare for Sinners to do such a thing,” she says. “And with all of that…uh…Alastorness.”

“It’s alright, you can just say bat-shit crazy.”

“I’d prefer not to,” she says with an awkward laugh. “So, how were you able to stay together for so long

“Are you…,” you trail off, blinking. “Are you asking me for relationship advice?”

“A bit? If that’s okay,” she says. “Rosie already helped but, well, she did eat her first husband.”

“I don’t think I can be of much help.” Your lips purse. “Alastor and I don’t exactly have the most conventional marriage.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

1927

“Do you like it?” Alastor offers you a spoonful of the simmering sauce.

You lean closer, shifting from your seat on his kitchen counter. Alastor dips the spoon in your opened mouth. “It’s spicy,” you say, lips twisting when you cough. “Is it supposed to be like that?”

Alastor tilts his head. A lock of his hair falls to the side. “No…it’s not.” He takes back the spoon and dips it into the pan. Alastor coughs as soon as it hits his tongue. “How many peppers did you add?”

Your legs sway, and the heels of your foot tap the cabinets below you. “I added what was written on the recipe! Exactly twelve peppers.”

Alastor twists the stove’s knob, killing the fire. “Take a look at the notebook again,” he says and reaches over your legs, grabbing his book full of recipes. “If you use these things called ‘eyes’ and ready, you’d be able to see that it says, ‘one to two’!”

“No, it does not!” you huff, grabbing the notebook from him. You read through the list of ingredients. There, near the bottom, pass the four cloves of chopped garlic, half a shallot, and a pinch of pepper, ‘one to two peppers’ is scribbled with blocky letters. “Oh…that’s my bad. Yeah, that’s on me.”

Alastor adjusts his sleeves, pulling it back up his forearm. (Hmm, not a bad look.) “There’s no point in teaching you how to cook this if you don’t know how to read!” he says, eyes twitching. “Go…Just go over there and let me fix this.”

“I already said I was sorry!”

“No, you did not!” Alastor says, throwing his hands into the air. “What you said was,‘Oh…that’s my bad. Yeah, that’s on me’, actually.”

“Yeah, that’s on me,” you repeat with a snort. “That’s my bad.”

“Get out of my kitchen before you ruin dinner.” He leans on the counter, crossing his arms. You hum to yourself. Alastor should pull his sleeves up more. “Go set the table or something. And wash your hair when you get home—it smells like chemicals.”

With a huff, you do as you're told.

You slide off his counter, opening the cabinet and grab two bowls with one arm and reach for the table placemats with the other.

Two sets of utensils, glass cups, and paper napkins. It’s one more set than what you prepare when you’re at your own home. Two…Two. It’s becoming quite the word in your vocabulary.

There’s a proper table waiting to be used in the other room, but this smaller one you’re setting, with its fraying edges and turmeric stains suit the both of you much better.

Three ice-cubes bobble at the top of Alastor’s water. It’s how he likes it. It’s funny. You don’t remember Alastor disclosing this particular information. It’s just something you noticed one day, and you’ve never stopped noticing. What else have you unconsciously learned about him, and what have you unconsciously taught him about you?

Alastor walks to the table, a large steaming bowl in his hands. He places it between the bowls, and you reach into the drawer for a ladle.

The taste tingles your tongue. It’s good. Better than anything you could possibly make for yourself.

You reach into your pocket and toss a handkerchief at Alastor’s face. It lands on between his hair. He tilts his head, shaking it, and the cloth slides on the table. “It’s yours,” you tell him, taking a spoonful of your food. “Thanks for dinner.”

Alastor studies how his name is embroidered in near letters, thumbing the music notes framing it. “Dinner was a way to thank you for this week’s meat.”

He tosses back the handkerchief. It smacks your face.

You peel it from your skin, and trace the letters you’ve threaded during your very scarce free time. “I can’t go around with a handkerchief that has your name on it.”

His smile widens. “Why not?”

“People would think I’m a fan.” You hand Alastor the handkerchief this time. “Just take it as a gift then.”

Alastor takes it from you, and places it into his pocket.

You hum into your spoon with a pleased smile. “Hey Al,” you say. “Tell me what you did today.”

Alastor takes his time chewing and swallowing his food. “As you can see,” he tells you, “I’m eating.”

“I’m bored,” you say. “Eat while you talk.”

He reaches across the table, and his fingers catch on the knob of the radio to turn it on.

Classical music plays out of the speaker. It was correct to assume that Alastor pre-sets radios to play his favorite stations. Although, you didn’t imagine that each of his many radios would have their own specific station. A different radio for different stations. You questioned Alastor about it, but he didn’t say much.

Once the bottom of the bowls has been scraped into your stomachs, you take the dishes and go to the sink.

Your nose scrunches at the sight of the piled dishes. Alastor watches you with a smile. You turn away when you notice.

Alastor takes a container from the cabinet above your head. He’s warm. Always warm.

He takes two containers, placing the leftovers inside. And there it is again, that word—Two. Not one, but two. One for him. One for you. You didn’t ask for leftovers. You’ve never asked at all. Alastor will just hand you the container like it’s the most automatic thing in this world for him to do.

You take the first of many bowls, and rinse the stubborn pieces with your hands. “There’s too many dishes,” you say. “It’s like you have one for every ingredient. Did you really need to use separate ones for each and every ingredient we used?”

He leans on the counter, slotting himself next to you.  “I don’t like mixing the flavors until it’s time to add them.”

Alastor adjusts his pulled sleeves and crosses his arms.

The bowl slips from your grip.

“Oh…I…uh…sorry,” you say, picking up the bowl. “I mean, you really didn’t need one for the salt and pepper. They already come in containers—why couldn’t you just, I don’t know, eyeball it?”

“Eyeball it?”

“Yeah, or feel it with your soul or something,” you say and pick up the measuring spoons to show him. “You had to measure three pinches of salt instead of actually just pinching it.”

Alastor laughs, and strands of his hair slide down to his eyes. “And how did it taste?”

Your shoulders slump when you sigh. “Good.”

He bumps his shoulders with yours. “That’s just the way I was taught.”

“Well,” you start, “your way creates more dishes for me to clean.”

Alastor pivots from the counter, and takes his place in front of the second sink. He grabs the dish you’ve already rinsed and sponges it with soap. It’s quite the system you’ve created. You grab a dirty dish, rinse it, and pass it on to Alastor who cleans it with a sponge.

The next minute goes something like this:

Alastor flicks water at your face. You ignore it.

Flick. Ignore.

Flick. Ignore.

Flick. Ignore.

The water damps your hair. You kick his leg. “Stop that.”

Alastor drenches his hand under the faucet, letting his fingers accumulate water. He flicks it at you.

The grip you have on the plate tightens. “I am going to smash this on your head.”

Alastor raises his eyebrows. He glares. You glare back. He cups his hand under the faucet like a bowl. The water pools between his hands. He throws the water at you. It hits your eyes, blinding you. That does little to stop you.

You grip the plate, swinging it in his direction.

The plate doesn’t connect with anything… Sadly. You rub the water out your eyes, and find Alastor kneeling on the floor with a triumphant smile.

Alastor stands up, brushing dirt from his pants. “You missed.”

“You ducked.”

“I can’t believe you actually did that,” he says. “What if you actually hit me?”

You pass the plate to Alastor before you scratch the urge to swing at that smug smile of his. “Hey Al,” you say. “Tell me what you did today.”

Alastor closes the faucet. “You always ask me that.”

“That’s because you say it in entertaining ways,” you say. “It’s boring to wash the dishes without something to distract me.”

Alastor soaps the dish. “Your lessening attention span worries me.”

You roll your eyes at him, and flick water at his face. “Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says. “I find myself having no reason to deny you.”

Alastor’s glasses slide down his nose. He leans close enough for you to smell his perfume. He’s warm—always warm. It takes a second for you to understand. You dry your hands on a stray towel, and fix it in place.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

1928.

The metal bench cools the back of your neck.

The sun blinds your eyes, but you keep a steady gaze on the afternoon beams. When was the last time you felt the heat of the sun kiss your skin? As the seconds tick by. As the birds fly above you. As the leaves fall from their stem, melting on this bench seems like a heavenly idea.

But as the clock will eventually strike. But as the birds will eventually find their nest. But as the leaves will eventually land. So, too, must you eventually go back to work.

A shadow blocks the sun.

It takes a second for your eyes to adjust. Alastor’s upside-down face smiles at you. “Good morning to you!”

With a yelp, you swing your forehead forward.

Alastor leans backwards, narrowly missing your head by centimeters. “Not the greeting I imagined, but hello to you as well,” he says. “The receptionist said I could find you here.”

You twist, turning to him with a frown. “Are you okay?”

Alastor slides over the bench, and takes the free seat next to you. His legs cross. “Why would I not be, okay?”

There’s some bag slung over his shoulder, but that’s not important right now. Your eyes trail his body. Hair? Fixed. Smile? Wide. Clothes? Perfect. “You’re at a clinic.”

Alastor swats his hand. “I was in the area.”

That classic city stench attacks your nose, but it’s just nice to feel the way your hair sways from the breeze. “You’re not going to kill me, right?”

Alastor nudges his leg with yours. “You say that every single time!”

Your smile turns smug. “I’ll stop saying it when it stops becoming funny.”

Alastor rolls his eyes, showing it off to you. “It never was.”

“It is to me,” you say and wave your hands in the air. “Just imagine this, the great Alastor had to stalk me!”

“I am great, but remind me again,” he begins, propping his arm on the bench to lean on it, “how long did you have to follow me?”

Sighing, you lean your head on the backrest to count the clouds. It’s nice to be able to see actual clouds for once instead of the drawing of children who wait. “…Three months.”

“Exactly,” he says, and you hear the smugness in his words. “And I didn’t need to do any stalking—you led me straight to your house.”

You blow a raspberry at him. “Why are you even here then?”

Alastor props his legs on your lap. You push him off. He brings it back. It’s not worth fighting him right now. “I actually was in the area,” he says, and hands you the bag slung over his shoulder. “The director thought it would be a grand idea to bring the staff out to lunch.”

You unzip the bag, and packed lunch greets you. And there it is again. Two. Two. Two. One for you. One for him. Maybe both for you? “Al, tell me why I’m currently looking at two packed lunches?”

Alastor beams at you, and slides his legs off your lap. “I accidentally cooked too much today,” he said. “I thought it would be a grand idea to share.”

Your frown. “But…you already ate.”

“Oh…I was already planning on dropping by,” he says. “It was quite the stroke of luck that you’re only taking your break now, and that we happened to have lunch nearby. I thought I’d bring you a treat.”

Questions bubble on your throat. “Thank you, Al,” you say instead. You open the container and take a bite, savoring the taste. “It’s delicious.”

Alastor leans closer, and picks a leaf off your head. “That’s because I actually followed the recipe.”

You point your spoon at him. “That was just that one time!”

He smiles at you, chuckling softly. “Three actually.”

Before the clock strikes, it will tick. Before the birds find their nest, they will fly. Before the leaves hit the ground, it will fall. And before you eventually go back to work, you will eat on this bench, Alastor to your side.

He stares ahead. As you eat, you watch his eyes flicker. It goes from the kid then to a plant then to an old lady. This, you don’t question. You’ve stopped wondering what he could possibly be thinking years ago.

Alastor leans closer to your ear. “Do you see that lady?” he asks, voice low. His breath tickles your skin. “That one over there with the feather on her hat?”

You scan the people around the area, spotting the lady old enough to be your grandmother. A scarf wraps around her neck, despite the sun beaming with the afternoon heat. She lazily walks around. “What about her?”

“Do you think her name could be Edith? She looks like an Edith,” Alastor says. “She probably had three children, and married young when her parents forced her to marry this ugly but rich man she could never love.”

Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. It’s like a mantra that plays in your head. There’s no reason not to play along whatever nonsense he’s spouting. “Sure, why not?”

“But no!” he exclaims into your ear. You jerk away and shove him with an elbow. “Oof….Edith just had to defy all expectations, and she chose to elope with her childhood sweetheart. He’s not the richest man, but they survived.”

“That’s sweet.”

“And to this day,” he says, “everyone still calls her, ‘Edith the Penguin’.”

“Edith the penguin?” you echo. “Now I’m just confused.”

Alastor’s eyes shine. “Because she walks like a penguin with their ass on fire,” he snorts. “Your turn, now.”

Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. And you would love to be brought lunch again.

“Fine.” You place your spoon down, and look around to the first person who grabs your attention. “That little kid over there—His name is Thomas, and he likes balloons.”

Alastor blinks at you. “And?”

You take your time chewing and swallowing your food. “That’s all.”

He gawks at you, and rolls your eyes. “It must be so boring to be you.”

“It is not!” You huff at him, and kick his leg. “I am a very interesting person, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh really, now? Thomas, and he likes balloons?” Alastor says,and points at the kid with twitching eyes. “He’s holding a balloon!”

You wave your arms, the spoon still in your grip. “So, he probably likes it!” you say. “Thomas wouldn’t get a balloon if he didn’t like it.”

“I pity your sense of imagination.”

Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. And you would love to be brought lunch again.

You swallow what remains inside the container, and pack it up. “Is this what you do when you zone out as I’m tal—and you’re doing it again, aren’t you?” you say. “You are an incredibly judgmental person.”

“It’s called using my imagination. Something you apparently don’t have,” he says with a snort. “So…tell me what you did today.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “That’s my question.”

Alastor shrugs, taking the closed container and zipping it inside his bag. He hands you a tissue. “Well, I’m asking it now.”

You prop your arm on the bench, leaning on it. Alastor’s hair spikes out in odd places today. It must have quite the trek to the clinic. “I’m not as good a storyteller as you are.”

He props his arms on the bench, mimicking your pose. His eyes stare straight into yours. “ I don’t need a story,” he says. “I just want to know what you did today.”

You press your palm on his face, pushing him away from your face. The sun’s heat is really getting to you. Alastor’s nose crinkles as he rubs it. “Why would you even want to know what I do?”

Alastor props his elbows on his knees, observing the people around him. “You always ask me what I did,” he says. “I want to know if there’s something special about it.:

“There’s nothing special about it,” you tell him. Was there actually? You’re not sure. “I just like knowing, and it always entertains me.”

Alastor meets your eyes with a wide smile. “Then tell me what you did today,” he says. “Entertain me.”

The clock ticks closer. The birds are already close to their nests. The leaves are already floating to the ground. You are already close to going back to work, closer to this moment becoming nothing but a distant memory. “That was my first meal of the day.”

Alastor’s eyebrows furrow and his lips twist into a hard scowl. “That’s not healthy.”

You shut your eyes and sigh. “I never said it was.”

“How would you live without me?”

Remember, Alastor brought you lunch, and it would be nice if he could bring you lunch again. “I’m going to hit you.”

Alastor bumps your knees with his. “Lovely,” he says, and you can hear the smile he’s wearing. “I’m sure it will be very painful because you’re so full of energy right now.”

Eyes still shut, you bump his knees back. “I’ve been busy,” you say. “And don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Alastor hesitates for a second. “First of all, we’re all busy,” he says. “Second, I didn’t roll my eyes.”

“You did—it was audible,” you tell him with a soft chuckle. “Anyway, there’s nothing new with my day. It’s just the usual, people to see, files to file, blood to draw, pee to get on me.”

Alastor digs his finger into your cheek, twisting it as he presses down. “Wow, you really are a horrible storyteller.”

You know what, maybe you don’t need Alastor bringing you lunch. You peek open an eye to stare at him. “I’m going to smash a plate on your head once we start doing the dishes.”

Alastor mashes your cheek like some button. Over and over and over and over again. You swat his hand, and he rubs it with a grimace. “Were you planning on dropping by today?”

You place an arm over your eyes, blocking out the sun. “Will I have to do the dishes?”

“You don’t have to specifically do the dishes.��

You comb through your hair with your fingers. “That wouldn’t exactly be fair to you.”

“If you're so insistent, we can find something else for you to do,” he says. “I mean, if you hate it so much you don’t have to do it.”

“I don’t hate it,” you say with a sigh. A church bell sounds. It echoes through the buildings and through the trees. “Al…I’m tired.”

“I know,” he says, and you hear how softly he chuckles. “Your eyes are drooping so low I could fill the entire ocean in them.”

“I want to sleep, Al.”

“I know.”

“I hate this job.”

Alastor pauses for a second, and he bumps his shoulders with yours. “You don’t.”

The clock hasn’t struck yet. The birds haven’t flown to their nests. The leaves haven’t reached the ground. And so too will you stay in this moment of time.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

1929

Footsteps creak on the wooden stairs. The sound is ignored, just like every other thing that isn’t relevant to you.

The dead cadaver under you has weird kidneys. The one on your palm is too small for a kidney that belongs to someone of his size. You take your scalpel, slicing it to observe the cross section.

“It’s time to stop,” Alastor tells you. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Him and his smile is not important right now. “You’ve been here all night.”

“Leave me alone,” you mumble. The human body continues to be amazing. The medulla is clearly outlined. The colors of its cells were so different from the cortex. “…Kidneys, Alastor. He has weird kidneys. Hehehehe weird kidneys…”

Alastor says your name in a way that forces you to listen.

“…Oh…yes?” you say a bit dumbly.

“It’s nightfall,” he says, and the tone of his voice buzzes your skin. “Come on now, do as you're told. Be upstairs in fifteen minutes.”

It’s not an easy task to do as Alastor says, especially when this man’s left kidney is a whole different size from the right. However, with a frown, you slot the kidney from the opened chest cavity, and pack up the body.

You step out of the basement, and walk to the kitchen.

There’s a plate waiting for you on the table. It’s still hot. Muffled music plays from the porch, and you see Alastor’s outline through the windows. Taking your plate, you step out the front door and into the outdoors. (Something you really need to start seeing more.)

And oh…he’s not listening to the radio. Alastor plays the recording of his show. It was a present you got him a few months back.

You take your seat on the matching rocking chair.

Alastor watches you settle into your seat. He turns the volume down. “Tables were invented for a reason.”

The chair rocks when you swing your legs. “It’s nice out here,” you say, and take a bite of vegetables. “The sky is much clearer. It helps that there’s no stench of piss.”

He turns to you with a small smile. “That’s because you live in the city.”

The wind blows your hair into your face. You push it out of the way. “Hey, Al,” you say slowly. “Tell me what you did today.”

“Why should I?”

You lean back into the chair, letting the rocking sway you. “Well, you got home late,” you say. “I had to use my keys.”

Alastor leans back on the chair, using the tips of his shoe to rock himself. “Yes, that was the point of the keys,” he says, humming. “It would be a shame to come home to another broken window.”

The taste of the vegetables mixed with the meat makes you smile in delight. “Are you still holding on to that?”

“Always.”

“I paid you back, eventually,” you tell him, pointing your fork at him. “Why are you still holding a grudge for an honest accident?”

On his cheek , where it’s always been and where it’ll always be, his smile strains. “You expect me to believe that a rock smashing my window was an honest accident.”

You offer him your most innocent smile. “Yes.”

“Well, I hope your windows are much sturdier then,” he says, mimicking your smile. “One of these days, I might cause an accident.”

The stars twinkle in the sky. There’s a vast amount of knowledge those gassy balls hold. Maybe your life would be less horrific if you were interested in the stars instead. “In my defense, you were late.”

Alastor pinches the bridge of his nose. “You couldn’t wait fifteen minutes?”

You take another bite of your meal, and sway happily to do a little dance. “Just… okay? Just tell me what you did before I finish my meal.”

Alastor reaches into his pocket and tosses a keychain at you. It lands between your legs.

You set the plate on the coffee table between you, and hold the keychain to the light. It was a cute, little cartoon alligator. “What’s this?”

“It’s yours.”

“I can tell that much,” you say, twirling the gift between your fingers. “You never give me nice knickknacks. It’s always the ugly ones

Alastor huffs at you. “That doesn’t sound like my problem anymore,” he says. “I thought you would appreciate something that looks halfway decent one and for all.”

“I find the ugly ones really charming, actually. They’re very funny to look at,” you say. “So, where did you get this?”

Alastor clasps his hands, resting it on his stomach as he rocks himself. “Saw an advertisement. Went to the zoo.”

You scrunch your face. “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

“Go finish your meal.”

You pocket his gift, and grab the plate on the table. “Master of storytelling right here, ladies and gentlemen,” you say, barking a laugh. “I figured you would love the excuse of hearing yourself talk.”

Alastor ignores you, reaching for his notepad instead.

You watch Alastor as he writes on his notepad. The breeze sways a strand of his hair. His lips twist when he thinks, just like he’s doing right now

Your eyes fall on your plate, to where vegetables and meat were carefully tossed together. Alastor cooked today— he always cooks. When you finish, you’ll grab the plates, and begin the mountain of dishes. Even when dish soap stings your fingers, even when the feeling of wet food grosses you, and even when thousands of dirty dishes wait for you…it’s something you don’t mind..

Once this meal is finished, you and him will step inside. He’ll properly tell you about his day, and you’ll take the pan and scrub it.

Ah…there it is again. That word—Two.

But it’s not two of anything. It’s simply just two. You and Alastor.

“You’re frowning,” Alastor says. He stares at you from the corner of  his eyes. “Why?”

It’s weird.

Very weird.

You don’t…You don’t understand. How do you say the words you do not know how to explain?

It’s almost as if… “We should get married.”

Alastor’s laughter rings across the open land. “No.”

The inside of your cheek stings from how you bite it. You turn away to hide your flushed cheeks. “I…It just came out, okay?” you mumble. “I’m really trying not to be offended that you turned me down without a second thought, and with a laugh as well.”

Alastor turns back to his notepad. “Don’t be,” he says. “I’m nothing you want.”

The moonlight reflects off his brown eyes. “Sometimes…,” you begin, and a small smile appears on your lips. “Sometimes I wish you see yourself the way I see you.”

Alastor laughs at you again. “You’ve been having such thoughts about me?” he says. “What an absolute honor! I’m deeply flattered.”

“And then you say words like that, and I immediately know it’s not worth it

Alastor lifts his eyes from his notepad to peek at you. He fixes his eyeglasses. “You don’t actually think we should get married.”

To be infuriating, you take a bite from your plate, savoring each flavor with drawn out chews.

“I have no idea,” you say. “But…I mean, why not? There are many good reasons for me to marry you—it’s advantages for me, and everyone already thinks we’re dating.”

Alastor turns back to his notepad, shaking his head. “That’s the most absurd idea I’ve ever heard.”

“What, being in a relationship with me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s twice you’ve managed to offend me.” You laugh to hide your frown. “But that friend of yours. The feathery one from the lounge you like taking me to.”

Alastor tilts his head. “Mimzy?”

“Ah yes, her,” you say with a hum. “She asked me if you um…uh… well, if you liked vanilla or hot and spicy.”

“If I had to answer, Id say hot and spicy?” Alastor says, and you laugh at the confusion on his face. “I got a bottle of this pepper flakes infused with old. It was quite the treat.”

“That’s exactly what I figured you would say,” you tell him.“Unfortunately for you, Mimzy was talking about sex.”

Alastor scrunches his face.

Oh don’t make such a face, there is absolutely no need to be afraid of the prospect of such activities.” The final bite of your meal bursts with so much flavor that you revel it for a second. “Al, let’s get married.”

Alastor glares at you. “No.”

You place the plate on the coffee table. It can be  washed after this conversation. “Why not?”

He points his pen between you and him..“We aren't even dating,” he says. “And…I can’t express such passionate displays of affection.”

You rock the chair with your shoe. An owl hoots from somewhere beyond the trees. Huh, you weren’t aware owls lived in this area. “Don’t be a child—just say sex.”

Again, his face scrunches. “I will not.”

“It’s a really good thing,” you say, sighing, “that no one’s asking.”

Alastor searches for your eyes. He holds it. It was only ever his to hold anyway. “I’m not even sure I’m interested in romance.”

You look around, whipping your head. “I think I’m missing the part where someone asked.”

“Be serious.”

“Okay fine. This is me being serious because I am when I say that all I don’t need your romance—Al, you accepted me for who I am, and to me? That is enough,” you say with a soft smile. “You are all I could ever ask for.”

Alastor stares at the stars, his eyes capturing each one. “I can’t love you like a husband should.”

The stares are really beautiful.

Each shines in their own way. Alastor sees the beauty in them, but you aren’t going to be beaten by a gas ball. Tomight, you will be the only star Alastor should keep his gaze on. “Alastor, look at me.”

He keeps his eyes on the stars.

Huffing, you stride to his chair, and block his view of the night sky.

You plant your arms on the armrest for support, and inch your face so close that you are the only thing he will see. “Alastor,” you say his name, voice oh so soft, “look at me.”

Oh…his eyes are browner than you thought. It’s a deep and dark brown that pulls you in.

“You can love me in ways that matter.” You press your forehead against his, and close your eyes.

There are more words to be said, but right now you and him stay in this moment of time. Just…for…a second.

“I will never force you to love me in ways you cannot,” you whisper. The ends of his hair brush against your skin. “Alastor, I could never reject the type of love you can offer me. I can never deny you.”

Alastor caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers. “Friends don’t get married.”

Impulsivity was such a bad habit of yours. It’s a fact that makes you bear the consequences, but consequences be damned. You take his hand, holding it in yours. The pads of his fingers have different textures. Some are smooth. Some are rough. But the whole thing warms you to the touch. It’s unfair. He’s unfair. How could something as simple as taking his hand intoxicate?

Your lips hover over his skin, brushing it a little. Alastor doesn’t pull away. With a smile that Alastor always seems to put on your lips, you plant a soft kiss on his ring finger.

“We aren’t normal people. There’s no reason to force ourselves into a conventional relationship.” You meet his eyes with a smirk. Every word you utter brushes your lips yo his skin. “This marriage will be defined however we want. You offer me a partnership in death…This is me offering you a partnership in life.”

You press your lip on the back of his hand, one final time, and return to your chair.

Alastor doesn’t speak.

You rock yourself with your foot, enjoying the sway of the chair.“There is that added benefit that the police won’t be suspicious of a doting husband.”

Alastor scrunches his face. “Doting husband?” he echoes. “I thought we wouldn’t be having a normal marriage.”

“That doesn’t mean a lady doesn’t want to feel special,” you say, snorting. “I’ve always dreamed of a doting husband.”

Alastor rips a page out of his notepad. He folds it with his hands.

His vets match his shoes today. The hair on the back of his head sticks out and curls. Did he take a nap today? “I could be like this every single night,” you say softly. “You and me. The two of us under the stars until our hairs turn gray.”

Alastor’s gaze stays locked on the piece of paper he’s folding. “Why me?”

You stare at him with a smile, and lean your face on your palm. “Does it need to be said?”

Alastor glances at you with those brown eyes of his. “I’m asking.”

“It’s because…It’s…I…,” your trail off. How do you summon the words to describe something you don’t understand?

There’s a smug smile on Alastor’s lips. “What, is it because you love me?”

“Would it be so bad if I did?” you say, chuckling into your arm. “But…well, I don’t exactly know how to properly say this.”

“Just open your mouth,” he says, rolling his eyes, “and let the words do it’s job.”

“I wouldn’t mind doing the dishes with you for the rest of my life,” you tell him, and your cheeks tingle. “Maybe even past life. Can you imagine that? You and me in hell, doing our dishes together.”

There’s an odd look on his face. “Sure.”

“We can listen to the radio,” you say. “And I’ll ask you about your day, and you will tell me the wildest and most grandiose story while we clean a pot.”

Alastor smiles at you. “You hate doing the dishes.”

“I do not.”

“You do. I see it—I always do,” he says with a soft chuckle. Alastor taps his nose. “Your nose scrunches every time, yet you never ask for help.”

What expression are you making right now?

You bring your legs to your chest. “I’m willing to give up everything for dirty dishes if it means I have you as a companion for the rest of my life.”

Alastor turns back to whatever he was folding.

You hide your face in your legs, face flushed and warm. “Say something…please,” you say, whispering. “I just poured out my heart for you

You hear Alastor rise from his seat. He places a hand on your head. “Today’s dinner…,” he says, and his voice is the softest it’s ever been. “Did you like it?”

You smile even if he couldn’t see it, and lean into his hand. “It was one of the most delicious thing I have ever tasted.”

“I wouldn’t mind making it for you for the rest of my life…if you’re willing to wash the dishes with me for the rest of yours,” Alastor says, and you think this is the most honest thing he’s ever told you. “It’s yours. Even if you don’t want it, this is yours now.”

You peek out of your knees. Alastor’s smile is soft. He opens his palms and your eyes flicker to them. He shows you what he’s been folding. It’s the paper of his notepad folded into a ring—a paper ring.

“Do it again,” you say with a beam that could rival the stars. “Ask me again.”

Alastor caresses your cheek, the back of his finger brushing down your skin. “Doting husband?”

“Exactly,” you say with a laugh and lean into his touch. “You catch on very quickly.”

Alastor takes your hand in his, and his thumb brushes over your ring finger. Does he feel your skin the way you feel his? He kneels on one knee and the paper ring is presented to you. “Would you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

You insert your ring finger into the paper ring. “The honor would be mine, my dearest.”

Alastor stares at you.

You stare back.

 The moment your eyes settle on one another, laughter echoes across the land. It’s loud and breathy, and it echoes so far that the local wildlife gets disturbed. Alastor settles back on his chair, rocking himself.

Alastor calms down first. “Oh…uh…Should we share a passionate kiss?”

The stars shine above you. Not a single gas ball can beat the brightness of your smile. “Do you want to?” you ask. “Be honest, my dear.”

Alastor hesitates for a second. “Not particularly—Do you?”

“Maybe? Sometimes?” you say with a shrug. “I could live a happy life without such passionate kisses.”

“Really?” he says, and the surprise in his voice makes you laugh. “You would be fine without one?”

“Well, since you’re so insistent, I’ll allow a kiss.”

Alastor snorts into the air. “And where and when would you want such a kiss?”

You hold him in your gaze. There’s so much to learn, so much to figure out. It’s alright. There will be time. “Anywhere and anytime, you want, my love.”

“You’re going to give me control?” he asks. “Is this not something you would want as well?”

“I’ll make this easy enough for you to understand,” you tell him, tracing the paper ring around your finger. “I demand a kiss whenever you are completely and perfectly and incandescently happy.”

Alastor hums, looking away to study the woodcarving on his chair. He picks on them. “I supposed if you need anyone to fulfill your needs I only as—”

“Just say sex, my dearest,” you say, and Alastor sinks into his chair with a huff. “That will never happen. This isn’t a friendship, my love. I am entering a relationship with you. No matter how unconventional, it is still ours.”

Alastor locks your eyes with a pleased smile. “Good.”

The rocking chair rocks you into a small lull. “My dear.”

“Yes?”

“My love.”

Alastor sighs. “Yes?”

“My dearest,” you say. “Would you want to share a bed?”

Alastor stays silent. There’s hesitation on his face. You see it in the way his lips twist. You see it in the way his eyebrows furrow. You see it in the way he leans back on his chair to stare at the stars.

“Okay then, we can circle back to that later,” you say with a soft chuckle. “How about a room—Do you want to share one?”

Alastor raises his eyebrows, staring at you with silent judgment. He is a book that you are allowed to learn. There’s so much to read, and so much still left to be read. That’s okay. There’s time. No matter how long. You have time.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, we can share a room without sharing a bed,” you exclaim, throwing your hands into the air. “We can even have bunk beds. That would be cool. I’ve always wanted a bunk bed.”

Alastor rests his face on his palm to look at you. There it is again, the breathy and light laughter. “We are not sleeping on a bunk bed.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Charlie’s smile slowly morphs into a frow that you cannot decipher. It makes sense that you can’t. Afterall, she is not the book you’ve spent your life learning to read. “You…You don’t actually love each other?”

There’s a frame hanging on your kitchen wall that says otherwise.

It holds an art piece you embroidered for the sole purpose of giving it to your husband. The color of the wooden frame compliments the colors of the thread, as if it was carefully chosen to match. The one here in the kitchen is but one of many frames around the house. Alastor keeps every single item safe beneath the glass to to be admired.

There’s a shelf standing on the living-room carpet that says otherwise.

It holds ugly knick knacks that Alastor bought for the sole purpose of giving it to his wife. It’s a pain to dust the shelves, but not a speck of dirt touches its surface, as if it was carefully taken care of. The one in there in the living-room is but one of many shelves around the house. You keep every item spotless to be admired.

“We’re not heartless,” you say. “Alastor and I don’t have the same relationship you and your girlfriend have.”

Charlie sways in her seat, a hand rests on her chin when she hums. “ I am so sorry,” he says. “I think it’s great and all that, I’m just having trouble understanding.”

“It’s not exactly for you to understand.” You take a sip from your mug.

“So it’s not a relationship,” Charlie says. “Sooooo, is it like a really really deep friendship?”

“The lines between us are so blurry that it’s become deeper than friendship,” you admit with a small smile. “I just know that my soul is connected to him in ways I do not know how to tell him.”

“Is that really possible?” Charlie asks. “To just…love each other so differently?”

“Can our relationship not just…exist?” You lean on your palms. “Do you really think it’s so impossible for two people to just…to just look forward to cooking and washing the dishes together?”

Charlie’s eyes brighten. “I think I’m starting to understand,” she says. “So like—”

“Charlie…if I sit here and answer all of your questions, we’re going to waste time.” You play with the fiddle of your mug. “You didn’t come here for relationship advice.”

“Oh…yes.” Charlie sits there. Her smile slowly falls into a frown. “I’ve been thinking of how to convince you to help me, but…I can’t think of a single thing to say, and I don’t want to force you either.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You haven’t exactly asked for my help either.”

Charlie blinks at you. “…Huh?”

You raise your mug to toast to her. “If you want my help, just ask for it.”

Charlie grabs your hand with a tight grip. “Please, help me,” she says, voice shaking. “I don’t want to drag Cannibal Town into an all-out war without knowing there was a way to keep them safe.”

“Sure, why not?” You pull your hand away.

A loud squeal bounces off the walls.

Charlie pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve ever experienced. She hauls you with all the strength of a hellborn princess.  Your feet drag against the floor as she pulls you out of the kitchen and into the living-room.

Charlie drops you with a wince on her face. She stares at the broken window, and the obviously missing television.

You trip out of her hold.

Alastor wraps his hand on your shoulders, steading you against him until you find your balance. His touch lingers on you.

The television shaped hole on your glass window makes your eyes twitch.

Alastor steps away from you, twirling his microphone. It strikes the floor with a harsh thunk. “Oh, yes that,” he says. “It seems there was an unfortunate accident.”

“Oh, really now?” you say, placing a hand on your hips. “I would love to know exactly how that happened.”

Alastor’s smile widens, and his arms wave the air. “The clumsy boxed tripped right out the window.”

Your smile strains. “…That is rather unfortunate,” you say. “What a shame, I rather liked that television. It’s been a constant companion, and never has it once disappeared on me for several years.”

Alastor glares at you.

You glare back.

“I would love to help you clean this mess,” Alastor says with that triumphant smile of his.

Would a second broken window be worth trouble if it means there would be an Alastor-shaped hole?

“Perfect!” you say. “I’m sure you still remember where we keep the broom.”

Alastor boops your nose. “Unfortunately, the cannibals will be meeting us at the hotel,” he says. “I think it’s time we take our leave. Say goodbye to my wife, Charlotte.”

Charlie opens her mouth to correct him. She changes her mind at the last minute, choosing to sulk with a wave instead.

Alastor opens the door, allowing Charlie to step out first. She strides to the flowerbeds, kneeling to observe the plants.

Alastor stills by the door frame.

He inches close enough for you to reach him. The fabric of his lapels smoothen as you adjust its fit on him.

A breeze tussles Alastor’s hair. You swipe the stray locks, brushing his hair away from his forehead, until…until the x that marks the gunshot catches your eyes. Frowning, you thumb the mark, caressing it with oh so soft touches. There was a time where you believed that you and him had all the time in the world. Death laughed at you that night.

Alastor watches you, taking your wrist to pull it away.

He leans closer, and picks a feather on your head. “Will you indulge me?” he asks. “There’s just something I want to ask of you before I leave.”

“Say it, and it will be yours.”

Alastor pokes his cheeks, mimicking a smile. “Just one of these from you will do—Something to power me through the day.”

With a soft chuckle, you widen your lips to show him the brightest smile you can muster. “Is that much better, my love?”

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek. “Indeed,” he says. “You’ve been frowning for a while now.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Have I?”

Alastor boops your nose. “You have,” says. “What’s troubling you, my dear?”

“It’s nothing serious to you,” you tell him with a shake of your head. “It’s nothing worth listening to.”

Alastor taps his fingers across his microphone. “It’s not nothing. Especially when you frown like that,” he says. “If it’s serious to you, it is worth listening to.”

“Sometimes…I still find myself wondering how you feel,” you say, smoothening the feathers on your head “Even after being married for so long, there are times where I still do not know

“You’re not a mind reader,” he says. “If you want to know, you should just ask.”

“Alright then,” you say with a smile. “How are you feeling today, my love?”

Alastor caresses your cheek. The back of his fingers brush down your skin until it hooks around your chin. You tilt it to the side, offering your cheek, ready for him.

Alastor tugs your chin, adjusting your face until your eyes are drawn into his own. And oh…Has he always looked at you like this?

Alastor inches closer, his nose nudging against your own. Your heart thumps in your ear.

A minute has never felt so long as you stay frozen. It’s a whole minute  if his lips brushing inches above yours. It’s a whole minute of his finger stroking the skin of your chin. It’s a whole minute of feeling his breath on your skin. It’s a whole minute where inches of space separate your

Alastor tortures you with the simplest of sensation that intoxicated you to your very core. You don’t move away, not from him—never from him.

Your eyes close when Alastor presses his lips across yours.

The taste of this morning’s coffee is dizzying. The soft tickles of his breath make your fingers curl around the fabric of his coat. You were never a poet. It’s Alastor who was better with his words. You cannot describe the way he kisses you with sweet metaphors or soft analogies.

Alastor pulls away.

You inch closer to chase him, until self-control takes over. It splashes you with the warmth of a bucket filled with ice.

Oh…oh.

There are words to be said, questions to be asked. The heat tingling of your cheeks and the electricity buzzing your lips make it hard to find the words.

You bury your face into the fabric of Alastor’s chest, curling into him to hide how red your face flushes. The back of his coat crumples when you grip it.

Alastor wraps his arms around you, tightening the hug. His finger stroke your shoulder blade. “Does that answer your question?”

You inhale into his clothes. It’s warm. He’s warm. So warm that int transfers to you. “No, not at all,” you mumble. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Alastor leans back, pushing you away to search your face.He stares at you.

You stare at everything but him.

Alastor squishes your cheek, giving it a light shake. “Stop demanding things from me when you’re not going to remember.”

“I did no such thing.” You swat his hand away. “Will I be seeing you soon?”

Charlie catches your eyes. She quickly glances away before eventually looking back. You bring out your hand, folding your fingers to indicate the number two. Charlie cringes so deep she creates a double chin.

Alastor brushes feathers out of your face. “You wouldn’t need to ask if you accepted Charlie’s offer to stay at the hotel,” he says. “ I was given a room there. I think you would like it…but, there’s still thousands of unused rooms if you wish to stay somewhere else.”

“My deerest, are you asking me to stay at the hotel?”

Alastor’s silence makes you chuckle.

With the tips of your toes, you reach to press a kiss on his cheek. “I will see you soon.”

“You always will.”

Charlie and Alastor leave with a wave. You close the door before they reach the gate, leaning on the door. The wood does little to settle the way your skin buzzes. Demand a kiss? You would never do such a thing.

The clock strikes. It’s time to leave for work. You take your coffee mug, scrubbing it with soap. (If you drop it twice, then that’s your business.) You open the cupboard, placing your matching mug next to Alastor’s clean one.

Today…Today will be a good day.

For today, there’s no need to throw away cold coffee mugs.

Next Part: |Glimpse of Me and You: Part 1| First of all, you will never catch my Alastor cooking jambalaya. It’s a great dish, I know. But I refuse to fall into the curse. Part of the reason why this chapter took so long to publish, besides work getting in the way, was because I didn’t know how I would want Alastor and Reader to love each other. Like do I make it purely romantic?  But I like keeping this as canon as possible. And I know that Alastor is only canonically ace. This problem struck me until I realized that to be accepted is to be loved. So I decided to write a story that will make me happy to show you. There are so many other fics with pure romance, and I wanted to respect Alastor’s asexuality and everyone who relates to him. This is my love letter to him and to you. Also, I’m just going to put it out there, just in case someone might ask why there’s a kiss on the lips? This is a reminder that you can define a relationship any way you could want. I debated whether that kiss should be on the cheek or on the lips. A cheek kiss isn’t inherently romantic, so I could have just done this. The lip kiss just felt…correct. I wanted to showcase that the relationship between Alastor and Reader isn’t a conventional one, and that it’s fine to have one that differs from what is considered normal. So the best way would be to take something that everything thinks is very romantic and twist it in a way that it could mean something different. And thus, any kiss before and after this chapter really just means that Alastor is completely and perfectly and incandescently happy.

Taglist: @mybrainautocorrect @ray-rook @teavibesaf @valentique @qardasngan @tobyisher3 @amoraneuro @okay-babe @holymusicialmothman @lyralibra @alastorssimp @aestheticglas-blog @slaggylemon

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x wife!reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x wife reader #Alastor #radio demon

[solarmorrigan]

If you’re still taking prompts, could I ask for “please come get me” with Steddie?

I’ve read over all your other angst prompts and just about died this morning, you’re so good at the pain!!

Hello! :D Thank you for the prompt! I'm afraid this one is a little heavier on the comfort than the hurt, so perhaps not as much pain, but if you've been binging what I've written so far, maybe that's a good thing?? But anyway, I hope this is alright!

[Warning for implied child neglect/emotional abuse. Nothing really happens in the fic, but just as a heads up]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

Eddie shouldn’t be hearing this. This isn’t a conversation meant for spectators.

“I know you just got back from a trip, I just–” Harrington says into the receiver of the payphone, clinging to the handset as he practically wilts against the useless ‘privacy wall’ next to it. “I’m sorry, I was just hoping you could give me a ride home.”

All Eddie had wanted to do was cut the pep rally like any self-respecting social outcast would, except he couldn’t just ditch and go home; it’s Friday, and he has Hellfire after this. But the last thing he’d expected while loitering around outside, waiting for the pep rally to end, had been to stumble across Steve Harrington on the phone, practically begging someone for a ride home.

“No, I drove myself here today, I’m just not sure I can drive home.” Harrington pauses, then sighs. “No, Dad, this is a pep rally, I haven’t been drinking.” Whatever comes down the line next makes his posture snap straight almost immediately, before he hunches back in on himself with a wince and a hand pressed to his forehead. “No, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

This is weird. This is so weird. Harrington is meant to be cocky – confident and in-charge and at ease, not curled around a payphone in the same way a kicked puppy tries to protect itself even as it asks someone for more attention.

Someone who is apparently his dad.

It’s just – weird. It’s like how you know a lemon is a citrus fruit, just the same as an orange, but the second you peel off the rind, you feel like you’ve seen something forbidden. Lemons aren’t meant to be peeled that way, and Harrington isn’t meant to look close to tears while trying to get someone to drive him home.

“I – I’m sick. I mean, it’s – I have a migraine,” Harrington explains haltingly. “No, it’s not just – yeah, my head hurts, but if it was just that, I swear I wouldn’t bother you, I just – I’m dizzy, and my vision’s all blurry, so I’m not sure I can drive, and I don’t…”

Shit, that sounds kind of fucked up. Eddie frowns, leaning against the wall he’s been peering around, now definitely intentionally eavesdropping. Harrington is frowning, too, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face.

“Tommy and I don’t hang out anymore, we haven’t in over a year,” Harrington says, then carries on a little more quietly, a little more subdued, “and there isn’t really anyone else here I can catch a ride with, either.”

Eddie will admit he hasn’t been paying a whole lot of attention, but anyone who doesn’t live under a rock knows that Harrington’s popularity had taken a bit of a hit last year, when he’d ditched Hagan and Perkins and decided to be a bit less of a dick. And then this year – well, even if Hargrove hadn’t crowed enough about the fight between the two of them, the state of Harrington’s face back in November had spoken volumes. Still, Eddie hadn’t been aware the condition of Harrington’s social life was so dire.

“I’m not – I’m not making this up, the doctor talked to you about this, he– I’m not trying to talk back, I just– Dad, please, can you just – please, come get me,” Harrington stutters through what sounds very much like a losing argument before going silent altogether, pressing one hand over his eyes as he lets his head hang, the other still holding the handset near his ear. “I understand,” he says dully after a minute. “I’m sorry. I’ll – I’ll figure it out… Yes, sir.”

It doesn’t seem like there’s much left to say after that. Harrington hangs up the phone and leans up against the adjacent wall before sliding down and sitting himself right there on the ground, knees drawn up and face in his hands.

Shit.

Eddie ducks back around the corner, gnawing on his lip, caught in indecision. He shouldn’t have overheard any of that, intentionally or otherwise, but now that he has, he can’t just – not do something.

Can he?

He tries to tell himself it’s not his problem, that Harrington’s certainly never done him any favors, even if he’d never been a dick to Eddie specifically, but it doesn’t work. All Eddie can see is the defeated slump of Harrington’s shoulders, the helpless way he’d just sort of dropped to the ground, the way he’d quietly admitted there’s no one else he can ask for a ride – Eddie’s always had a soft spot for the lonely ones.

But when he rounds the corner, prepared to come up with some bullshit excuse as to why he’s out here and willing to drive Harrington home, he finds that Harrington is – gone.

Eddie glances around, but he doesn’t seem to be anywhere. Poof, vanished while Eddie had been too busy trying to decide what to do.

Well, damn.

Distantly hoping that Harrington had, indeed, figured something out, Eddie tries to put the incident out of his mind. The pep rally will be over soon, and that means Hellfire will begin, and he needs to get his head in the game.

He has no real reason to think on the incident after that, and he’s fairly successful at shoving it somewhere into the back of his mind until nearly two years later, in a setting so far removed from that spring day at the school that it might as well be in another life.

Eddie has to extricate himself from a few fans (actual fans; apparently, rumors of Satanism and returning form the dead will do wonders for the reputation of your metal band) in order to get up from the table settled near the back of The Hideout. Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver are all accounted for, enjoying their drinks and chatting with whoever’s descended upon them after their set, but Steve had disappeared ten minutes ago and has yet to make a reappearance.

Ten minutes isn’t all that long, Eddie knows logically, but after last year, after everything, it still feels a little too long. If he finds Steve and Steve tells him he’s fine, then that’s great, Eddie will leave him be. But he just wants to check.

The bathroom is a bust, empty but for one drunk swaying precariously in front of a urinal, so Eddie heads outside, where, around the side of the building, settled on the ground in a triangle of sodium-glow orange thrown off by a nearby streetlight, he finds his quarry.

Steve is sitting with his back to the rough wood façade of the bar, his knees drawn up in front of him and his head leaned back against the wall behind him. His eyes are closed, but there’s a little pinch of tension between his brows, and Eddie is abruptly reminded of that day, eons ago and not really that long ago at all, when all Steve had wanted was for someone to care enough to give him a ride home when he’d been sick.

Eddie finds his ass on the concrete right next to Steve before he even has the conscious thought to go over and sit down.

“Doing okay, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, picking up one of Steve’s hands from where it’s resting on his own knee (it’s safe enough right here, Eddie knows; someone would have to actively be looking for them to spot them where they’re tucked away).

If Steve is surprised to find Eddie beside him, he doesn’t show it. He turns to look at Eddie in the low light, offering him a fond little smile.

“I’m good. It was just getting to be a little much in there, so I came out here for a break,” he says.

Things like excessive noise and heat—say, the likes of which might be experienced at a concert in a crowded bar (or maybe a high school pep rally)—tend to be migraine triggers for Steve, so why he continues attending shows at The Hideout is beyond Eddie. He’s tried telling him that he doesn’t have to come, but Steve still insists he wants to make it to every performance that he can.

Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand. “You wanna head out?”

Steve shakes his head. “You’re having a good time. I don’t want to take you away from that.”

“I’m not going to be having a good time if you’re miserable.” Eddie reaches up and cups Steve’s cheek in his hand, keeping him facing in Eddie’s direction. “You’re a priority for me, you know that, right? Say the word, and we’ll go home.”

It doesn’t seem like Steve has anything to say to that; instead, he just stares at Eddie with something like wonder, as if Eddie’s just done anything more amazing than promise Steve that he’ll never have to beg for basic consideration.

“Besides,” Eddie goes on, if for no other reason than to shift the sudden weight of Steve’s reverence, “it’s not like it would be a hardship.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to Steve’s willing mouth before he continues, speaking so close that their lips are brushing. “Getting to take you home, take you to bed, lie there in the dark, just the two of us…”

Steve presses in for another kiss, long and lingering, before pulling away.

“Let’s stay a little longer,” he says. “Jeff owes me a beer, anyway.”

“Y’know,” Eddie pauses with a grunt of effort as Steve stands and uses their joined hands to pull Eddie up after him, “the only reason you knew the movie he was referencing—and, thus, the only reason he owes you a beer—is because I made you watch it.”

“And? What do you want, a medal?” Steve snarks.

“Well,” Eddie drawls, glancing Steve up and down, “some token of appreciation wouldn’t be remiss.”

Steve raises an unimpressed eyebrow at Eddie. “It would be if we did it in the alley next to a bar.”

“Wow, Harrington, mind in the gutter much? I only meant a beer,” Eddie sniffs, all exaggerated offense.

“Sure you did,” Steve says. “Now c’mon; one more beer, and then… home?”

“You got it, sweetheart,” Eddie says, offering one more quick kiss in hopes of putting any hesitation out of Steve’s mind. “One more beer, and then home.”

#rajumat #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #I think this one is a little rough but I dunno man I'm fond of it #solar wrote #answers from solar

[mybelovedwoo]

Can you do wooyoung as a boyfriend? :D

YESS! I've been waiting for this request for a long time, thank you so much <3 I hope you'll enjoy :)) I'm sorry it took a while to write this, but I got caught up with a busy schedule all of a sudden.

jung wooyoung as your boyfriend - headcanon

headcanon, romance, fluff, smut

reader x bf!atz

wc. ~0.9k

an: i'm weak for this man you all know

you can request headcanons if you want to!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

masterlist

-i think we all know that wooyoung is your brat best friend type of boyfriend, who always puts you before himself and takes such good care of you, still can never stop teasing you

-he needs a lot of attention, like a lot. if your attention is not on him he will get all sulky and clingy. he would annoy you just to give him what he wants. even when you're talking to someone else he will cling to you from the back or to your arms

-but if the opposite happens, he just loves it so so much, it's one of his ways to tease you. he would play a video game or be on his phone and you would beg for his attention, he wouldn't give in so easily, but there would always be a cocky smile on his face

-gives you presents all the damn time, it's one of his love languages, he loves giving in general, especially when it comes to you. even if it's just a chocolate or a jewelry he will buy it when he thinks of you

-would even buy you pieces of clothes that he already has or buy one for himself too, so you guys could match in a cool way 

-he cooks your favorite dishes every date night. loves to experiment with food, you are his taste tester and would be the happiest when he sees you love what he made just for you

-also gives you all his food from his plate, he wants you to eat well, but you want the same for him so you always fight over it 

-late-night walk hand in hand by the river, watching all the night lights of the city, him giving you his jacket because you refused to bring yours, but now he freezes to death but loves it at the same time, stopping by a convenient store to buy snacks and ice cream, yeah that's just a casual friday night

-lots and lots of kisses. just gives you random kisses on your cheeks, doesn't care where or who is there it doesn't stop him (his members are already used to it)

-would kiss you passionately until you lose your breath, then he would smile to a final kiss because he feels proud of himself

-on facetime with you 24/7 when he's on tour

-he is basically best friends with your family and friends, in return, you are best friends with his mom

-has heart eyes for you, doesn't break eye contact, and flirts with you every given minute

-have cheeky nicknames for you like pookie, nugget, pumpkin (anything that he can think of at the moment), but your contact name is the sweetest "my one and only", also you are his wallpaper for sure

-brings you with him everywhere, literally you two are connected (at least that's what his members are saying). he brings you to work, you have to watch him dance and then review it or to a filming, you're always somewhere behind the cameras 

-would want to move in with you as soon as he can, because he doesn't want to spend any time without you

-calls you his wife in front of the members and his family, because you will be one day, he's sure about that

-if you're dating woo it means sometimes there's a plus one on your dates, san feels a little weird about it, he thinks he interrupts your special time but loves to hang out with you guys

-he hates it when san and you are allying against him, but deep down loves to see that you get along well, his two soulmates

-you have to cuddle him so he can fall asleep at night, usually you are the big spoon because this man loves to be cuddled

-his hand is constantly on your thighs or on your ass, he's shameless about it

-he is whipped for you, would literally do anything you ask him to do

nsfw +18!!!

-lots of people think he is a tease in bed too, but I think he is quite the opposite. wooyoung is a very impatient person, he cannot wait for long, especially when he wants you so bad

-I think I don't have to say it, but he is a sub in bed. likes to be taken care of and likes to be on the bottom

-there are times when he wants to take care of you tho, so he would switch and make you feel good all night long

-his hands all over your body, would touch everywhere he can reach, just can't get enough of you

-loves it when you kiss his neck, that's something he gets turned on immediately, also just compliment his body and this man is done right there

-very noisy, lots of whimpers and moans, doesn't really care if someone hears it

-i think he gets worked up pretty easily, so you guys would have sex every single time you meet or you sleep over at each other's place

-for positions, I would say cowgirl is the most common, but he likes everything where you are on the top and he can see you well

-blowjob is a must, even if you don't have sex, at a random bathroom of a restaurant or at the dance studio

-he needs cuddles after, just wants to hold you close to him and would praise you for such a good work you did, would definitely take good care of you after, brings you food and clean clothes, would feel very grateful and sentimental at these moments

#ateez #wooyoung #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #wooyoung x reader #ateez imagine #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung imagine #ateez wooyoung #ateez fanfic #jung wooyoung #wooyoung x you #wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung established relationship #wooyoung bf #wooyoung boyfriend #wooyoung smut #ateez smut #wooyoung headcanon #ateez headcanon #wooyoung bf headcanon

[ganseybois]

tommy (at this point already casually dating buck) hanging out with eddie and calling him out on his feelings

alternatively eddie last minute helping maddie before the wedding and maddie calling him out on his feelings

or both

both? both. both is good :D i hope you enjoy it, it got a little long haha! if you want to send me a buddie prompt, click here!

Tommy is the first one to bring it up.

They're finishing up on the basketball court, and everyone has filed out by this point, leaving the two of them alone. Tommy is driving Eddie back anyhow, and today was an intense game, so they're taking their time.

Why Tommy chooses to bring it up before the car ride, Eddie doesn't know. But what a way to make it awkward.

"Hey, man I need to tell you something," he says as they return to the car. "So you're not blindsighted when it happens."

"Everything okay?" Eddie asks, clearly concerned.

"Well, not really." he lets out a tired laugh. "Uh...I'm going to be breaking up with Evan. I wanted to tell you so that, you know, you could do what you do and be there for him."

Shocked, Eddie steps in front of Tommy, "Wait, what? I thought things were going great with the two of you." he feels his gut twist uncomfortably - the last thing Eddie wants in the whole world is to see Buck hurt again. "Tommy, come on, Buck is great. He's amazing. There's not a thing about him to not like."

Tommy scoffs, "Believe me, Eddie, I know that."

"So then what's wrong?"

"Eddie, seriously?" Tommy rolls his eyes. "I can't keep dating him and ignore...whatever it is you two have going on. I like Buck, a lot, I do but, there is clearly something between the two of you."

Eddie lets out a small laugh of disbelief. "Tommy," he says, grinning, trying to find his footing in this conversation. The rug has been swept out from under him. Him? And Buck? No way. "He's my best friend. That's all."

"You know Eddie," Tommy rolls his eyes, walking past him now. "I know everyone is a bit of an idiot with love, but you're acting obtuse purposely."

Eddie turns around and follows, "Hey," he snaps. "I'm sorry if we're too close for you to handle, but I'm not going to apologize for being his best friend."

"I don't want you to Eddie, really, I don't. But you should both take your head out of your asses so that you can stop hurting other people." 

That stops Eddie from making a retort. 

Tommy picks up his pace as he walks over to unlock his door, as though he can escape Eddie and erase the fact that he is also driving Eddie home. That they are going to have to share a space for twenty minutes before Eddie can leave and be alone, and send Tommy on his way to break his best friend’s heart. 

Does Eddie love Buck? 

Of course. 

Buck is his best friend. Why wouldn’t he love him? How could he not? Buck is beautiful, and kind, takes care of his son, and has been there for Eddie since the day that they met. Buck is honest and hopeful, Buck is tender and funny, he is knowledgeable and earnest. He’s the best friend anyone could ever ask for. Eddie knows all this, and of course he loves him for it. 

But that doesn’t mean he’s in love with him…does it?

***

“Thank you so much for helping me Eddie,” Maddie sighs as they walk into her house, Eddie with boxes stacked in his arms. He doesn’t even know what’s inside them - Maddie needed help, so he agreed. 

“Sure thing,” he kicks the door shut and follows her to the kitchen, gently laying the boxes on the table. “Here’s okay?”

“Perfect,” she rubs his back. “Want some coffee? You’re welcome to stay for a while.”

“Coffee sounds great, thanks,” Eddie nods, watching her move around her kitchen. He feels a little awkward–he likes Maddie just fine, but really, he hasn’t spent too much time with her, so he isn’t sure where to strike conversation. They already spent an hour talking about kids in his truck, he feels like he’s used Christopher enough. 

“So,” she says, tone careful and light, prepping mugs. “Did Buck tell you about Tommy?” 

“Yeah, he did.” Eddie murmurs, Tommy and Buck broke up three days ago. Eddie listened to Buck tell the story, and hugged him tight. He gave him beer, ordered him food, and let Buck stay over for the night so he wouldn’t have to be alone. 

At least you’re always going to be here, Eddie, right?

Nowhere else I’d rather be, Buck. 

Eddie broke up with Marisol a day later. He has tried not to think too hard about why that is but…he has spent the last three days thinking about what Tommy has said. 

Eddie clears his throat. “It sucks, I thought this would work out for Buck for sure.”

Maddie sighs sadly, starting to prepare the coffee for them, before she turns around and gazes at him fondly. “I already knew it wouldn’t.” When Eddie just continues to look at her, she rolls her eyes and smiles. “Eddie, come on.”

“What?” he asks. 

“Seriously? You’re going to make me spell it out for you?”

He feels his heart skip a beat, understanding dawning on him. “Maddie,” he shakes his head with a small laugh, although what he wants is to run in the other fucking direction. “Listen-”

“All I do is listen, Eddie. I listen to my brother talk about you like you hung the sun in the sky. I listen to him complain when he can’t see you and Chris. I listen to him talk about everything you do for him, everything you say to him.”

“He’s my best friend,” Eddie says, feeling cornered. 

“I know that I really do. And maybe I’m wrong, maybe I don’t know you as well as I think I do but…I know my brother. It could have never worked with Tommy, because he was too busy being in love with you.”

“Maddie-”

“Hey, maybe I’m wrong,” she says, pouring their coffee. Why do these things never happen when he’s about to leave? “But look into his eyes Eddie, and you’ll see it. Promise me.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to do. 

A little part of him admits that he’s afraid to look. Afraid of what he’ll find. 

“Maddie,” he says softly. “He’s my best friend.”

“Eddie.” she sighs. “You look at Buck the way I look at Chimney. The way Karen looks at Hen. The way Bobby looks at Athena. This is so far beyond what you think it is. Promise me you’ll think about it.”

“I promise.”

***

Eddie thinks about it all the way to Buck’s house. 

He thinks about his life, about what makes sense, about his son, and what makes sense in his son’s life. He thinks about the obvious - is he happier when Buck is around? Yes. Did he like Marisol? Not really. Was that because of Buck? He doesn’t know. 

Does he miss Buck when he’s not there? Yes. 

Does he think Buck makes him a better person? Yes. 

Does he love Buck? Yes. 

Yes. 

Yes. 

He makes it to Buck’s apartment and knocks on the door. It opens a moment later. 

Look into his eyes, Eddie. 

Eddie looks. 

Buck smiles, bright as a thousand suns. Just because Eddie thought to come over, to just spend time with him. 

Buck’s eyes sparkle – there is love there, warmth, undying devotion.  

Eddie, finally, can see.  

“Can I come in?” Eddie asks. 

Buck steps aside, and Eddie takes the first step into the rest of his life.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911 prompt #buddie prompt #ask #prompt #buck x eddie

[proudahgase-exol]

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮

Mingi x reader

This is my first ateez fanfic I hope you guys like it sorry if it’s trash 😓

Summary: After six years of dating Jacob, your relationship has deteriorated, with him often busy or out with friends. One night, you attend a bar for dissertation, never expecting to meet an attractive guy.

18+ minors do not interact

Warning: cussing, cheating, alcohol use, unprotected sex, did I miss anything?

⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰

Summary: After six years of dating, your relationship has deteriorated, with him often busy or out with friends. One night, you attend a bar for dissertation, never expecting to meet an attractive guy.

Warning: smut, cheating, cussing, unprotected sex,

Words: 2,917

Your pov

It’s been six years since Jacob and I started dating, and although the relationship was good and he was a loving, respectful boyfriend, I have been feeling like I’m not his first priority anymore.

He’s always at work or with his friends. The only time I see him is when I wake up for work sometimes at night, but we haven’t talked or gone out in a long time. I miss him, but when I try to do something, he always declines, saying he’s too busy or tired, but when one of his friends calls to hang out, he's up for it.

That’s why, today I'm getting ready to go out with some of my girls. They know about this situation, and they encourage me to go out to a bar, so I agree.

Once at the bar, we all went to take a seat somewhere and order some drinks. We were having a good time until, one by one, they found some for the night. I was left alone at the table, so I went to get myself another drink.

Once I got there, I ordered my drink and waited for the bartender to bring it to me. I was in my own world when I felt someone standing next to me. I looked up and saw a really handsome man who looked down at me and smiled.

“Hey there, I’m Song Mingi. Nice to meet you." He said with a smiling.

"Hello, my name is y/n." I replied with a shy smile.

“What are you doing all by yourself here?” He asked me

"Well, I was with a few friends, but two of them, god knows, were, and the other one was talking to the guy in blue by the pool table.” I really, as I pointed out, where my friend was.

"Really, the guy is my friend Yunho,” he said, laughing.

“No way, what a coincidence,” I said, giggling.

“Will you like to go sit down and chat? You seem like a sweet girl,” he said, hopeful.

"Sure, lead the way," I said smiling.

After a few minutes, I couldn’t help myself any more, so I asked him.

“So what do you do for a living? I mean, you don’t look like the typical guy that comes to bars; you seem really rich in the clothes you are wearing,” I said curiously. “I mean, I’m just wondering you don’t have to answer me."

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” he replied. “I’m the CEO of my own company. The guy your friend is talking to is my assistant and best friend, although he’s more like my big brother."

"Really, that’s cool. Wow, he seems like a sweet person." I smiled at him.

"What about you? What do you do for a living? He asked

“I’m the assistant of Park Seonghwa, actually." I said shyly.

“No way! He’s one of my best friends. I'veknow him since college,” he replied.

“What a small world,” I said, laughing.

We continued talking, and after a few hours and more drinks, he invited me to his place, and I agreed. I mean, what could go wrong? He’s like a friend, right?

When we arrived at his place, I was speechless. His place was huge. He owns a big company, and of course he can offer a penthouse on top of a beautiful building in an expensive neighborhood.

When we got inside, he told them to get comfortable in the living room, so he went to get a bottle of wine. When he returned, he continued to chat and drink.

He told me about himself and his eight friends, who are like his brothers; he also told me about his family. He was such a sweet, funny guy, and despite being super rich, he was still so humble, which I liked.

After a bit of time, he felt him getting closer to me until he cupped my face with his hands and pulled me for a kiss. I didn’t stop him; I pulled him closer by his collar.

After a while of heated make-out, he pulled me on top of him and continued kissing me. That’s when I pulled away from him and sat down in embarrassment.

"Hey, what’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I go to fear? Or made you uncomfortable?” He asked, worried.

"No, it’s not you... It’s just that." I tried to finish my sentence, but I cut myself off.

“What is it?” He asked as he rubbed my thigh.

“I have a boyfriend." I said, Look up at him in shame.

"Oh,” he said, sounding upset, “why didn’t you stop me when I first kissed you? Or why didn’t you say anything in the beginning?”

“Because it felt right. I felt seen and loved. He’s been ignoring me for a couple of months now.” I said, looking at him as I tried to get off him.

“What do you mean? Why has he been ignoring you?” he asked as he stopped me from moving away from him.

"Well, he’s always out with his friends, or he says he’s too busy or tired; he also has been canceling dates so he could spend time with his friends." I said upset.

“You know what fuck he I’ll make you forget about that piece of sh*t. I’ll make you feel loved and seen. I’ll show you how a man should treat his women. That is, if you let me, of course,” he asked, hopeful.

"Mmmh, yes, that’s sounding good,” I said as I pulled him for a kiss.

After that, he got up from the couch, took me, and walked us to his bedroom, where he placed me on his king-size bed and continued to kiss me as he slowly took my clothes off while I did the same to him.

Mingi’s pov

Taking my time with her, drinking in the beauty of her curvy body as I went along, and we climbed onto my king-size bed, where I kissed every square inch of her as I made my way to her tits, with her hard little nipples waiting for me.

I took my time licking and sucking on them, telling her how much I loved her body. The only sounds coming from her were moans, oohs, and ahhhs. I used those to guide me. I would run my flat tongue to lick up on her nipples, and I would get a loud moan from her, telling me her nipples were very sensitive.

I spent my time on her tits, then I went down on her, tasting her beautiful pussy, taking in its sexy scent, and working her clitoris with my mouth to give her her first orgasm of the evening.

I started working my finger in her pussy, feeling her G-Spot area swelling at the touch, and rubbing on her clitoral area using my thumb. It seemed to be working; as she moved in closer, I pulled out my middle finger and replaced it with two fingers, and I started curling them on her G-Spot. God, her tight little pussy felt good so fucking tight then I successfully made her cum with my fingers, as she said.

“Oh fuck, that feels so good, baby... I'm cumming, oh my god, I'm fucking cumming!!” She trembled a bit longer before it came to a slow end. When she stopped shaking, she pulled me up to her for a kiss, then whispered in my ear and told me, “My pussy is all yours now. Only you get to fuck this pussy!!"

That’s when I had to fuck her to finally have my cock in her pretty pussy so I turned her around and got her in adopt a doggy position.

As I stood behind her, I grabbed my cock, lined up to her, and proceeded to slowly enter her. I wanted her to enjoy every inch as we slowly became one. her pussy felt so tight going back in. I looked down and saw my dick entering and exiting her cunt.

Mingi, your big fat cock feels so good in my pussy. Oh Mingi your big cock is making me cum!”

Oh fuck, baby. Keep going, keep going! Don't stop, don't stop! she screamed out to him.

“Fuck me, daddy, fuck me!” she said without thinking.

“Are you daddy's little slut, huh, y/n? You like it when daddy fucks you”?

“Mm hmm” she responded in a whiny voice, obviously enjoying the hard fucking he was giving her.

“Who's pussy is it, baby? Who does your pussy belong to?”

“You daddy, this pussy is yours!”

“Don’t stop; I’m close; please don’t stop.” Y/N basically begs as I pick up the pace, “I’m cumming Mingi.” She screams.

I feel her pussy start to pulsate around my cock as an orgasm hits her. The feeling of her pussy contracting from her orgasm pushes me over the edge, and I slam my cock deep inside her and cum. I shoot rope after rope of cum deep inside your tight pussy.

Panic sets in almost instantly as I remember I’m not wearing a condom and I’ve just shot a huge load of cum deep inside.

“Shit, oh shit.” I gasp as panic consumes me. I pull out of bed and stand up, and I start to clean her up in a panic.

“Relax, it’s ok, I’m on the pill.” Y/N tells me she is obviously sensing my panic. Her words help to defuse my panic.

“That was amazing.” She says this before leaning up to kiss me.

After I finished cleaning her and myself up, I went to go grab a clean shirt and give it to her, put on a new pair of clean boxers, and went to lay down next to her.

She laid down next to me after putting the shirt on, and I pulled her closer to me so we could cuddle. She laid her head on my chest, and I petted her head.

“You were so good. I had never been fucked like that by anyone," she said, looking up at me.

“Are you serious, not even your boyfriend?” I was surprised.

“Not even him; you know he’s never been rough in bed with me, nor is he Vanella; he usually makes me ride him, and he just lays there; it makes me feel like I’m forcing him to have sex with me,” she replied.

"Well, that’s his loss. He doesn’t know what a great woman you are; he’s missing out on everything,” I told her as I kissed her head.

After a while of silence, she fell asleep. She looked so calm and relaxed. I didn’t want this to end, but I wasn’t sure if she would like to continue seeing me. I mean, she does have a boyfriend. But perhaps I could convince her that for now I’ll just sleep it off.

Your pov

The next day, I woke up to the smell of food. I sat up and looked around the room, remembering the events of last night. It made me blush. I got up and fell for the delicious smell that took me to the kitchen, where Mingi was finishing the last touches.

"Hey, good morning. How did you sleep, pretty girl?” He asked, and he placed the places on the table.

"Grateful, how about you?” I asked to take a seat.

"Grate, I made you some breakfast. I hope you like it,” he said, sitting in front of me.

"Mmmh, this is so much better than you," I replied as I took a bit of my omelette.

We ate and chatted for a bit, then I helped him clean up the dishes. He told me he left a change of clothes for me in the bathroom, so I went to get a change.

When I got out, I went to find Mingi, and he was sitting in the living room on his phone, so I went to sit with him.

"Hey, you look good in my clothes,” he said, teasing.

"Thanks,” I said, smiling. "Well, Mingi, I have to go. My friend has been blowing on my phone, asking me where I'm. It was nice meeting you. I hope to see you again." I said as I got up from the couch.

"Before you go, I wanted to ask you something." He said he was taking my hand, preventing me from leaving.

"Yeah, what is it?” I replied

"Leasing, I know we just met, and I know you have a boyfriend, but what happened last night was understandable, and I was hoping we could do it again, but if it makes you uncomfortable, I understand,” he said nervously.

“I agree. I had fun last night. You made me feel like the sexiest woman in the world, and I would like to do it again. It could be our little secret,” I said, biting my lip.

“Really? You would like to keep seeing me? What about your boyfriend?” He asked me

"Well, it would be fun to pass a good fuck from a handsome man like you,” I said, laughing, “and about my boyfriend... What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” I asked, winking at him.

“You like shit that’s sounding so hot and naughty,” he said, pulling me for a kiss. “I’ll be your dirty little secret, your side hoe right,” he said with my bottom up between his teeth.

Mingi and I continued seeing each other; we had sex multiple times, and he also took me on dates. He was everything I wanted my boyfriend to be; he was the perfect man.

When Mingi was busy with work, he would ask me to come by, and we would have a quickie in his office, but when he got up early, we would get at it for hours. Sex with Mingi was truly amazing, and it drove me crazy.

Jacob never suspected a thing; he never questioned me about why I was all of a sudden going out or being "busy.” He never asked why I didn’t want to have sex with him. To him, everything was normal.

A few weeks ago, Mingi asked me if I wanted to join him and his friends at the new club that just opened, and I agreed. Today Mingi texted me, telling me they were going to the club today, so I went to get ready, and I told him I would meet him at the club.

When I arrived there, I texted Mingi, letting him know I was here. He told me where he was as I went to find him. When I did, I saw this really pretty girl talking to Mingi; she was touching him and flirting with him.

Just the sight of her trying to seduce him made me blood boil. I became so jealous and pissed, but I knew I could do anything about it. Mingi was a free single man who could do whatever and date whoever.

I got so mad to the point where I just left the club, and once I was out, I broke down crying. I cry because I fell in love with Mingi. I wanted to date him. I wanted to be his girlfriend, but I wasn't.

As I was walking down the road, I heard someone’s footsteps and heavy breathing. I turned around, and I was face-to-face with Mingi. He looked concerned, and when he finally reached me, he pulled me in for a hug.

"Baby, why did you leave crying? What’s wrong? Why are you upset?” He asked, worried.

“Mingi Go back to the club. Go back to the pretty girl you were talking to,” I said, pushing him away.

"Princess, what are you talking about? You're the only pretty girl I talk to,” he said, pulling me back to him. “The girl was trying to get in my pants, but I told her I wasn’t interested; she didn’t get the memo, so I ignored her until I saw you walking out, then I ran after you.”

“Now tell me, why are you crying? I didn’t like to see my princess upset,” he said, kissing my forehead.

“Seeing you with another woman made me feel so jealous. It made me feel so angry. I only want you to myself,” I said, looking into his eyes.

"Baby, I’m all yours; you don’t need to feel jealous,” he chuckled.

"No, Mingi, you don’t get it. I want you to be mine. I don’t want you to be my “dirty little secret.” I don’t want to sneak around to meet you. I want to be your girl. I don’t want to be Jacob’s girlfriend. I want to be your girlfriend." I said, looking down in embarrassment.

“You don’t know how bad I wanted to hear you say that you don’t know how hard it is for me to let you go back to him when all I want is to keep you all to myself. Every time you leave my bed to go back to him, my heart breaks,” he said as he healed me closer to him.

"Really, you really mean that?” I asked in shock.

“Of course, baby, I mean That now what Wooyoung, so if I asked you to dumb your shitty boyfriend so I could be the boyfriend you need and deserve,” he asked, hopefully

“I will leave him in a heartbeat because there’s no other man I want other than you,” I said, getting on my tippy toes to kiss his lips.

After that, he took my hand, and we walked back to the club, but instead of being back inside, we went to the park, so he got in his car and drove us to his house. We talk on the way there about how I will end everything with Jacob.

When we got to his place, we went to his bedroom, where he got undressed and made love to one another. For now, we wanted to be together and forget about the world. Tomorrow, I will figure out how to end the relationship with Jacob.

#song mingi #mingi fanfic #mingi fluff #mingi imagines #mingi scenarios #mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi x you #song mingi smut #song mingi x y/n #ateez imagine #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez mingi #ateez song mingi #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #song mingi scenarios #ateez mingi smut #kpop fanfics #fanfics #smut

[softguarnere]

I've been staring at your ask box for about 20 minutes now because i'm speechless, your writing is so fucking good!!! I've even sent it to my friend (she is not into hbowar) and she was like woow, specially at Ares and Athena, sooo I was wondering if you could write more stuff like that? it's not like I've been shaking, crying, screaming at my screen while reading over and over again BUT PLEASE WRITE MORE SPEIRS X READER

Evaded by Hypnos

Ron Speirs x reader

A/N: Omg hi anon! Thank you so much 💖 This ask absolutely made my day when I got it! Ares and Athena is one of my favorite fics that I've written, so I'm super glad you and your friend liked it as well! This is a prequel based off an off-handed line at the end of the fic about how Ron and the reader met. I really hope you like it! (and tagging @ronsparky since you wanted to read it 😁) As always, this is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans! Warnings: language

The night sky hangs still overhead. Somewhere in the distance, machine gun fire pops in bursts, shattering any stillness that might have been about to settle over everyone. Some people can sleep through just about any conditions. Good for them. They’re probably the only ones managing to catch some shuteye. Meanwhile, everyone else is awake and in varying degrees of alertness, and all for different reasons. Some are too scared to attempt sleep, afraid that it might be the last time that they ever shut their eyes. But for Ron and those like him, staying alert is the only thing to do when sleep remains elusive.

D-Day has been hectic, to say the least. Scattered men have been trying to rejoin their companies. They’ve all been on the move, living one order to the next, one objective to the next. The frustration of the night has turned to exhaustion for many, as Fox Company remains elusive. Ron never would have guessed that their biggest challenge once they got to Europe would be trying to keep the companies in line as they moved. Which seems funny, in a sort of pitiful way, now that he’s alone and there’s time to think about it.

Lots of time to think about it. Hours stretch before him in the dark night. Now that they’ve got Talbert from Easy Company taken care of, Ron leans back in his foxhole, waiting for something else to happen, or for sleep to take him first.

You’re so quiet that he doesn’t notice you until you speak. “Lieutenant Speirs?”

Ron looks up. Through the darkness, he can just make out the shape of someone standing above his foxhole, staring down at him. Her voice is quiet, but firm. Ron sits up straight to get a better look. “Yes?”

You gesture down, indicating the foxhole, him, the room he has. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” he replies, already moving over to create more space.

“Thanks,” you say when you hop in and land beside him with a soft thump! Now that you’re closer, he recognizes you. Lieutenant (Y/L/N), from Easy Company. One of the women in the female paratrooper program – and one of the only women to become an officer so far. Maybe it’s the poor lighting, but it looks like you smile at him. “Went to make sure they had Talbert handled, and then came back to find that some of the guys had taken my foxhole.”

“You didn’t make them move?” Ron isn’t sure if it comes out as more of a question or a statement. Obviously you either didn’t make them move, or they chose not to listen to your order – a problem with some of the men when it comes to the gender of whoever is giving them a command.

You shake your head. “I’ve fought enough battles today.”

That doesn’t seem fair. Ron doesn’t know you personally – has never even spoken to you one on one before now – but he’s heard about you. And the popular consensus seems to be that you’re a good officer. The upper echelon seem to think so, and so do the men and women of Easy company. Good officers are hard to come by. They shouldn’t be left in the dark looking for a foxhole to spend the night in.

“Well, if you ever need a place to stay, my foxhole is always open.” The words are out of Ron’s mouth before he’s fully had time to realize how cheesy and awful they sound. Thank God for the darkness, because he grimaces, and when he hears you emit a small laugh, his cheeks feel a little warm.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. That’s very kind.”

“You can call me Ron,” he offers.

A pause. Great, he’s said the wrong thing again.

Or maybe not. “Okay,” you agree. “Thank you . . . Ron.” You don’t say it reluctantly, just slowly, like maybe it’s some sort of trick, or like you’re taking your time trying it out. “You can call me (Y/N).”

“(Y/N),” he repeats. It’s beautiful. It suits you.

There’s the clinking sound of metal on metal as you unscrew your canteen and take a sip of water. You sigh through your nose. “So, Ron. Why are you awake on such an exciting night?”

He starts to make something up, then thinks better of it. He’s only just properly met you, and yet, he feels that he can tell you the truth, even though most people probably wouldn’t believe him. It must be something about being under the cover of night; it’s a shroud that makes sharing secrets easier, somehow.

“To tell you the truth, (Y/N) . . .” He allows the words to hang there for a second to create suspense. “I just can’t sleep.”

In the darkness, he hears you replace the lid of your canteen. “Is tonight special? Or is this an ongoing issue?”

Ron blinks. No one has ever asked him that before. Back in training, everyone seemed to think that his lack of sleep was some sort of vigilance, like staying up late was a way to assert dominance over everyone, proving that he was fearless in the face of the night, like some sort of watch dog. Really, the simple answer was that he just couldn’t sleep. There wasn’t more to it then, and there’s not really more to it now.

“The latter,” he replies.

You hum. “Me, too.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Chalk it up to the war being so damn exciting, or something, but I haven’t slept well since Toccoa.”

“I don’t know about the excitement. Those horrible mattresses, maybe.” Ron grins, forgetting that you probably won’t be able to see it in the dark. You let out a short laugh, though, and he knows that for the first time since he joined up, one of his jokes has actually been taken as a joke instead of being misconstrued.

“Well, they were better than a foxhole,” you muse. He can hear metal on metal again as you open your canteen once more. “Sorry if I’m keeping you up, though.”

“You aren’t,” Ron promises. “In fact, it’s kind of nice having someone else with the same issue. Good to have company.”

“I agree.” For a moment, the two of you fall into a lull. Ron swears that he can feel you looking at him from the corner of your eye, like you’re sizing him up. He decides to make the first move.

“So, (Y/N),” he begins. “Where are you from?”

And that is the beginning – how Ares met Athena. All because Hypnos evades both, and the Fates tied them together because of it.

#band of brothers fanfic #ron speirs #ron speirs x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers #my writing

[wormdebut]

Hello! How about 21 for your Spotify wrapped? 👯

HI! I am so fucking sorry this took me forever. This one was a massive challenge for me because 21 on my Spotify Wrapped is Counting Worms by Knocked Loose. For any of you that know, Counting Worms is thirteen words long so I had to process how I wanted to handle this. (And work fucking sucks and I'm exhausted as hell but that's beside the point.) I hope you enjoy this. I actually love it a lot more than I thought I would. 🖤

----

'I wrote a song about getting better, it's a feeling I don't remember'

Steve stares at the words on the page, looking up to cock an eyebrow at Eddie, "What comes next?"

Eddie stifles a laugh. "Nothing does, Stevie. That's it."

Steve scrunches his nose, confused. "Thats--the song? That like ten words."

Eddie grabs the paper from him and smiles down at it. "It's thirteen words, big boy. And its--sometimes it's not about the amount of words. It's about feeling something."

Steve tries not to blush. Big boy certainly did a number on him. He would never fucking admit that--but, it is what it is.

He shakes he his head, to try and clear his thoughts, "Sure."

Steve watches as Eddie's smile widens, eyes crinkling in the corners. Christ.

"Did you?" Steve asks.

"Did I what?" Eddie questions.

"Did you ever get better?"

Eddie's smile softens then. "I'm working on it."

----

Steve always knew he was something--something not straight. He just didn't really have a word for it, and he tried not to dwell on it. Didn't get caught with drifting eyes in locker rooms, made sure Tommy wouldn't tell a soul about what they got up to. He didn't. Tommy might be an asshole but he wouldn't out himself or Steve…

Anyway, Steve always knew. He always knew and he had told Robin a few months after Starcourt. She helped him find the words for it. Bisexual. So Steve knew what he was, but he was fine ending up with a woman. That's just what he always figured would happen

But Eddie? Eddie changed everything.

Robin had told him just to fucking talk to him. She said that he was being a hypocrite because he had helped her get her shit together enough to talk to Vickie after everything and it had worked out--at least for a bit--but that's beside the point. The point is Robin had asked Vickie out and Steve just stared at Eddie talking, at Eddie playing D&D with kids, at Eddie writing music. He just watched.

He was scared because Eddie? Eddie was loud and confident and interesting and important.

Steve was just…Steve.

What would he even say?

----

It'd been a few months since Steve had found the song. Thirteen words.

He couldn't stop thinking about it.

'It's about feeling something.'

He still hadn't said anything to Eddie, but he needed to…Well, he wanted to.

There's only a couple of days left until the kids have winter break, and Steve is expecting them to invade his home as per usual so he has been cleanly all fucking day listening to Abba and thinking about Eddie Munson's stupid fucking hands.

He was feeling impulsive--he could talk to Eddie--he could. Eddie had said it wasn't about the amount of things he had to say it just had to mean something…right?

Steve grumbles out a sigh before stomping over to the phone. He dials out the number--has it memorized by now. It's late, he listens to the line trilling as the clock turns. 10:12 pm.

"Thanks for calling the bat cave." Eddie rambles off.

"Yeah, hi batman. It's Steve."

Eddie laughs over the line. "Stevie! To what do I owe the late night call?"

Steve steels himself. "Listen, I--can I come over?"

"Uh--yeah? Are you okay?" Eddie asks and Steve shakes his head, not that Eddie can see it anyway.

"I'm--I just--I'll be over in a few." Steve breathes. He can do this. It's fine.

"Okay, S. Just be safe--alright?"

Steve mumbles out an affirmative before hanging up and grabbing his keys.

----

He only paces outside of Eddie's door for a minute or two before he knocks lightly. Eddie is quick to answer, looking ridiculously hot for a man wearing worn out sweats and one of a thousand old band tees. He looks worried and Steve feels bad about that but--he's just gotta--

"Can we go to your room?" Steve asks and Eddie lets out a shocked laugh before nodding and heading back through the apartment. Steve follows behind.

He stands frozen in the bedroom doorway, watches as Eddie sits on the edge of his bed with head cocked to the side.

"What's going on Stevie? Was it the nightmares again because--"

Steve shakes his head, and swallows before just--going for it.

"Look--I've been--running so many things through my head. I've written speeches and songs--which is sort of your thing. So, I stopped that. But--I have thought over and over again about how to say what I need to say.

And you--you told me 'it's not about the amount of words, it's about feeling something.

And when I look at you? I feel everything--

And I just--I just needed you to know."

Eddie blinks up at Steve, eyes wide. Great. Steve fucking scared him. Awesome this is great. This was a really fucking awesome idea Steve. Nice--

"That was a lot more than thirteen words, sweetheart." Eddie smirks at him and Steve feels his heart stutter at the name.

Steve breathes, "Yeah well--did I fuck everything up?"

Eddie moves from his bed then, quick to meet Steve in the doorway. Steve is quiet. He watches as Eddie's eyes move from Steve's own, down to his lips and back up again.

Eddie brings a hand up to cup his cheek and Steve can't help the soft noise that escapes his throat. The other man swipes his thumb over Steve's cheekbone. "No Stevie, I really don't think you did. I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?"

Steve can't do anything other than nod.

----

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie blurb #steddie ficlet #yall this one was TUFF #Worm Spotify Series #I AM STILL ALIVE--but I'm barely breathin #have u ever run a business in the middle of chrimas cause ten this is year ten and im TIRED #anyway thats enough of that #Don't think that I didn't want to include the ARF ARF in here #but unfortunatley there is no puppy play featured--this time #worm brain #hellfiredemon

[jpmarvel90]

A Daughter Like You

Masterlist Nat Masterlist

Relationship: MamaNat x 16 yr old Reader

Summary: An arguement between mother and daughter could turn deadly.

Word Count: 3917

Y/N's POV:

You'd think that being the daughter of THE Black Widow would have Its perks, but you'd be wrong. I love my Mom, she's always protected me and given me the best life she can, but there is so much pressure that comes with that. I'm expected to be just as good as her in combat training and she trains me extra hard to make sure. If my grades even slightly dip below an A, I'm scolded and made to do extra work to make up for it. But I've always sucked it up because I know she's always wanted the best for me.

That's until these last few weeks. It's like she doesn't have any time for me anymore. She's stopped training me and always uses work as an excuse to not hang around with me. I feel like she's slowly pushing me away and it's starting to affect my school work. I've been struggling with maths for a while, and I knocked on my Mom's door to ask for help. She's always taken the time to help me in the past. I lightly knocked on her door as I heard a sigh followed by a harsh "Come in".

I slowly enter her room and see her hunched at her desk. "Hi Mom, I was wondering if you could help me with my homework? I just can't seem to get my head around trigonometry." Without even looking up at me, and still typing away at her laptop she pushes me away. "Not now Y/N, I'm busy with work. You know not to disturb me when I'm working." I feel a small twinge in my heart, slightly hurt at her words, and turn to walk out the door. "Right, of course. Sorry Mom." I try to hide the tears that are starting to form in my eyes.

I shut her door carefully and run to my room locking it behind me. What have I done wrong? For weeks she has ignored me and scolded me for interrupting her. Did she no longer want me? Was it because I was 16 now and she considered me old enough to not need my Mom? All I know is that this hurts. I miss my Mom.

A week later and nothing had changed. I had gotten a D on my Maths exam and I was dreading telling Mom. I was hoping that she wouldn't remember and ignore me like she has for the past couple of months. But luck was not on my side. The first time she wants to talk to me is about the one test I screwed up on. "Y/N how did your test go? I hope you're keeping up with your good grades." Mom, stalked into the living room and stood across from me, arms crossed against her chest. "uh, well about that. I was struggling with a couple of the topics and I, uh, I got a D." I rushed out scared of her response. 

There was a silence before she dropped her arms down by her side with a huff. "A D Y/N? Come on, I've raised you to be better than that." "But Mom,-" "No buts Y/N. This is unacceptable. My daughter does not get Ds! You need to get yourself together young lady. For punishment I'm not allowing you to attend Homecoming this weekend." I just stood there in shock. She had no empathy at all. "Mom, please, it's one test. I was struggling and I did ask for your help but-" Well that was the wrong thing to say. She turned with such fury to stare at me. "Are you trying to blame me? I'm sorry I've been busy with work but this is all on you. I thought I brought you up better than to come up with excuses for your own mistakes. Jesus Y/N, surely you're not that stupid?!" Her words cut through me like a knife. Each one said with such intent. Before I knew it my mouth was talking without my brain knowing.

"You cannot be serious right now Mom. You've barely spoken to me for the last 2 months! You don't train me, you don't help me with my school work and you certainly don't seem to want to spend more than a minute in the same room as me. I've done everything you have ever asked of me, made every sacrifice. So what is it Mom, am I no longer enough for you? Because you have been no more of a Mom to me these last couple of months than anyone else in this building!"

My heart is racing, and I can feel tears stinging my eyes. Then I feel the hot tingling sensation on my cheek as my Mom's hand slapped me. "Perhaps I would want to spend time with you if you weren't a needy, pathetic teenager!" I gasped as the words came out of her mouth like venom. I could no longer stop the tears as they fell down my face. In that moment I saw a flash of guilt across her face. "Y/N, I, I didn't mean that, I –" But before she could finish I turned on my heel running to my room, almost knocking Wanda over as went. "Watch out there Y/N/N!" she called, but I didn't stop to apologise. I got in my room and locked my door, falling to me knees and letting out my sobs.

After a couple of hours I woke up, I must have cried myself to sleep. I look to my phone and see it's 11pm. No messages from Mom and she hasn't come to check on me. She must really have meant it. In a split second I made the decision that I need to leave. Mom clearly doesn't want me around anymore so I'm not going to stay whilst I'm being made to feel shit about it. I grab a duffle bag and throw in clothes and items to get me by for the next few days. I had plenty of money saved up so I didn't need to worry about that.

Once I had all of my stuff together, I took one last look at my room before heading out. I managed to get out of the compound without being detected. I considered taking one of Tony's cars but I knew they would be able to trace it. That's if anyone even noticed I was gone. Walking was my best option to stay hidden from them.

I started to make my way to the closest hotel that I knew. In hindsight I should have got a cab. It was now 11:30pm and I was very aware of being out on my own. I knew I was getting close and made the most stupid decision to cut down the ally way to get there quicker. "What's a pretty young girl like you doing in a place like this?" I turned and saw a man about 40 walk out from behind me. I could smell the alcohol on his breath from 10 feet away. I turned to run as quick as I could, only find his hand take a tight grasp around my bicep pulling me around viciously.

"Well I think you need to be taught some manners there Miss!" He slurred his words as he launched his left hand across my face knocking me to the floor. "Bitch get up!" he spat. I tried to pull me self to my feet only to be meet with a fist to my jaw. I tried to stand again this time taking boot directly to my head knocking me out cold.

Nat's POV:

I can't get Y/N's look out of my head. Why did I say that, why did I slap her? I didn't mean it. I'm stressed with work but that is no excuse. I'm so shocked at the words that so easily left my mouth that I don't move when she runs off. It's not until Wanda shakes me that I come back to my senses. "Hey Nat, are you and Y/N ok?" Wanda says, concern evident in her eyes. I can't bring myself to tell her the truth. "Uh we just had an argument that's all." I lie. "Do you want me to go and check on her?" Wanda asks still holding my hand in hers. I shake my head. "No I should go. But I think I'll let her cool off first and take her out for breakfast in the morning to talk." I hesitate before asking Wanda a question I don't think I want the answer to. "How has Y/N seemed to you these last few weeks?" She pauses and takes a moment to think. "I had noticed she hasn't been her usual bubbly self. I hadn't seen the two of you training or hanging out at all so thought she was working on her schoolwork, for these exams she's got at the moment. She was really struggling on her maths revision. I tried to help but she is way smarter than I am" She chuckled at the last sentence before asking "why is something wrong?".

As I nodded my head I felt Wanda brush her thumb across my cheek wiping away tears I hadn't realised were falling. "I've screwed up Wanda." Was all I was able to get out before I started to sob into her arms. She sat and held me whispering sweet things to me to help me calm down. "Everything will be ok Nat, Y/N adores you. Whatever it is that was said between you will be forgotten by tomorrow." Oh how I wished that were true.

Timeskip to the morning

I had barely slept all night just repeating the awful words I had said to my daughter, in my head. I waited until it was 8am and decided to go and wake her to talk. I walked up to her door and paused before knocking. "Y/N honey, it's me. Can I come in?" I waited but no response. I knocked again, a bit louder this time. "Y/N, please we need to talk. I need to apologise." Nothing. I reach for the door nob and turn it walking into her room. I look to her bed and it's empty. "Y/N, are you in the bathroom?" I call before knocking and find that room also empty.

As I enter her bedroom again, I notice that her draws are slightly open and most of her clothes are gone. In that moment panic fills me. I rush to her bed and pull out the box I know she keeps her money in. Shit, it's empty. "JARVIS where is Y/N?" I call out trying not to let myself complete break. "Miss Y/N left the compound shortly after 11pm yesterday. She has not returned". I can't believe it. Why didn't I just come up after her yesterday. I've forced my baby to leave.

I run out of Y/N's room to Wanda's next door, banging to wake her up. "What the hell Nat?" Wanda says half asleep. "It's Y/N, she's gone! She's taken her stuff and left late last night! I've fucked up Wanda, I've lost her!" I start sobbing, I can't lose by baby girl. Wanda is suddenly awake throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a hoody as she comes out of her room. "Come on, we'll find her. Let's get Tony to check all the CCTV that he can, and we'll head out in the car and try and find her. Is there anywhere you can think of that she would go?" Wanda taking control is helping me to calm down a bit as I think of the logistics of finding her. "Uh maybe she's gone to a friend or a local hotel?"

I take out my phone and try calling her again. Straight to voicemail. "Ok well you call her friends and I'll talk to Tony, we'll meeting in the garage in 20 minutes ok." Wanda pulls me into a tight hug before running off to find Tony.

We spent all day looking for Y/N and we couldn't find her anywhere. Tony had checked all the cameras he could and all he could find is that she left by foot. I was so anxious, I hated that she knew how to go off the grid, just like I taught her. I was just hoping she would make a mistake and we'd find her. The whole team spent the night in the living area trying to find anything. They were as desperate as I was to find her again. She may have been my daughter, but they all treated her as their own. I was stupid to not realise that the only person she wanted was me. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for the way I hurt her. I know that she won't!

It was about 5 in the morning when my phone rang with a number I didn't recognise. I looked up at Tony and started to feel the fear start to grow. Had she been taken? I hadn't even considered that, I just assumed she had ran. "Nat, answer it. I'll trace it." Tony said giving me a small smile. "Hello?" I answered cautiously. "Is that Natasha Romanoff?" The mysterious voice on the other end asked. "Yes, that's me." "Hi, I'm Holly Goodall, I'm a nurse at New York – Presbyterian Hospital. Is your daughter Y/N Romanoff?" My heart stopped and I felt like the world had just fallen out from beneath me. "Y-Yes she is, is she ok? What's happened?" I rise to my feet in panic as I feel Wanda wrap an arm around my waist. "Y/N has been admitted after being found in an alley way severely beaten." My ears started to ring, and I couldn't hear anything else. All of the team's eyes were on me. "Ma'am, are you still there?" I hear from down the phone. "I'm on my way."

I hang up and fill the team in. We rush to the hospital as quickly as we can. I'm sat with Wanda in the waiting room for the Doctor to come and speak with us. She has my hands in hers trying to keep me calm. But I'm very aware that she is also scared as tears quietly fall down her face. I squeeze her hands and smile at her in thanks for the support she's given me. I honestly would have been a mess if it wasn't for her.

I see a tall doctor walking to the waiting room as he called for us. I shot up from my seat still gripping on to Wanda's hand. "How is she?" we ask in unison. "Your daughter is very lucky to be alive. She has a broken arm and internal bleeding, as well as a nasty concussion and brain bleed. We don't believe she'll need any further surgery so we will monitor her over the coming days and hopefully she'll be able to head home by the weekend to finish her recovery there. If you'd like to follow me, I can take you to her." I smile at the doctor and let out a breath. Tony catches up to me and whispers in my ear, "give me the word and I'll get her transferred back to the hospital wing at the compound."

I pause outside the door taking a deep breath before I enter. Wanda is still with me holding my hand tight. "You should go in on your own. We'll wait out here and I'll send Steve to grab somethings for you both." I nod and pull her into a tight hug. "Thank you Wanda. I couldn't have gotten through today without you!" She leaves a small kiss on my cheek and gives me a nudge towards the door.

What I see breaks my heart as I open the door. My beautiful daughter led in bed, her arm in a cast, her body and face battered and bruised with stitches holding together a deep cut across her forehead into her eyebrow. I stare at her knowing that all of this is my fault. My baby could have been dead and it would have all been my fault.

I pull up the chair to the side of her bed and take her hand in mine. I take in every little detail, each bruise, each cut, all of the wires connecting to machines. How could I let this happen? Y/N is my whole world, how did I let work cloud that? I still hear my words, from that night's argument, ring around my head. I don't think she'll ever forgive me.

After an hour or so, Y/N starts to stir and I bolt upright grabbing her hand,  brushing her hair out of her face. She winces as she tries to sit up. "Hey baby girl, stay still ok, you need to lie down." I gentle encourage her to lie back in her bed and take a seat on the edge of her bed. I can see her eyes darting around the room trying to adjust to her surroundings before they land on me. "Y/N Honey, I'm so sorry for what I said and did. I didn't mean any of it. I let work get the better of me and lost focus of what my priorities were." I state calmly whilst rubbing circles on the back of her hand. She looks at me emotionless "I thought you were brought up better than to come up with excuses for your own mistakes. Surely you're not that stupid?" Like a dagger to my heart, she repeated the words I had so viciously used against her two days ago. "Y/N please, I'm so sorry. Just talk to me?" I can feel tears threatening to escape as Y/N turns in the bed facing away from me. "I can't do this Mom, you don't need to pretend anymore. Please just leave." I can hear quiet sniffles and I know she's trying so hard to be strong right now.

"I'm not leaving you Y/N. I'm your Mother and you're hurt." "Well, you didn't want me as your daughter two days ago. I'm sorry I was such a disappointment to you. I just wish you knew how hard I tried to make you proud. Now please just leave." I hesitate, the decision I make right now will either make or break us. "I have always been proud of you Y/N. You are the best of me, the only thing I've ever done right. I'm not going anywhere. I don't care if you ignore me, but I'm going to stay here and show you how much I love you." I don't get a response, but she doesn't push for me to leave so I take that as a good sign.

Tony had arranged for Y/N to be transferred back to the compound and Bruce took over her care. Her internal injuries were slowly healing and by the weekend he was happy for her to move back to her room. I had barely left her, only going to eat or shower. She still wasn't talking to me but still allowed me to stay. I hoped that once she was feeling better, we could talk again and start to mend our relationship.

Wanda and I helped get her settled back in her room and I started to set up a makeshift bed on her sofa. "What are you doing?" Y/N asked whilst getting comfortable in her own bed. "I'm setting up a bed so I can stay." I respond. "I'm fine, you don't need to watch over me." She had such a harsh look on her face. It was quite intimidating with the cuts on her face. Thankfully Wanda steps in. "Bruce said that someone has to be with you if you don't want to be in the hospital wing anymore." It was a lie but one that Y/N accepted. "Fine" she huffled whilst turning in her bed to sleep. I gave Wanda a thankful smile. "If you need anything give me a shout." She gives me a brief hug before leaving.

I led on the sofa staring at the ceiling wondering if my daughter would ever forgive me. Just as I was about to drift off to sleep, I hear Y/N start to toss in her bed, slight mumbling as she did. I sit up and observe her but before I could comprehend if it was a dream or nightmare she suddenly called out. "NO, please don't hit me. STOP! PLEASE" and with that she shot up, breathing erratic and sweat forming on her forehead. I jump up and pull her into a tight hug. "Shhhh, it's ok baby, it was just a nightmare. You're ok. I'm hear." Gently rocking her back and forth I try to calm her. "But you weren't Mom. You weren't there for me."

My heart broke. I couldn't do anything but hold her tight and help her to calm down. No words I could say in this moment would make everything better. I just had to be there for her. After she had calmed down I unwrapped my arms from around her and stepped out of the bed. But I felt her hand grasp on to my wrist. "Can you stay? I don't think I can sleep on my own." It was barely a whisper but I heard it. I lifted the cover and opened my arms to allow Y/N to cuddle me. She didn't hesitate and snuggled her head into my neck. I gentle rubbed her back helping to calm her.

"This doesn't mean I forgive you Mom. I love you but you hurt me." She looked up at me from my chest and made eye contact with me for the first time since we've gotten home. "I know baby. I wish I could take back what I said. There was no excuse for it. I love you more than you'll ever know but I know I haven't shown it recently. I promise that I will win back your trust. I'm not going anywhere." Her eyes darted between my own looking for confirmation that I was telling the truth. I hope she saw it. After a few seconds she sighed and snuggled back into me eventually falling back asleep. "Goodnight my angel, I love you." I whisper before succumbing to my own sleep.

For the next couple of weeks, I did everything I could to prove to Y/N that I loved her and I was sorry. I took time off of work to help her fully recover and made sure I spent time with her. At first it seemed like I was only allowed to be her mother when she was struck by her nightmares. I would hold her each night and quietly hum to help her feel safe and to fall back asleep. Over time as her nightmares reduced, she started to let me do more for her. It took time, but eventually she was actively choosing to spend time with me rather than me forcing it.

I will never forget the day I almost lost my daughter from my own stupidity. It became the fuel to my fire to ensure that I proved to her every day how much she meant to me and how much I loved her. Once she forgave me, I knew I would never allow her to feel like she wasn't my world again.

#natasha romanoff #natasha #romanoff #natashsa romanoff x reader #natashsa romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff fanfiction #marvel #avengers #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff x daughter

[bellsbear]

she’s an angel

eddie munson x female sinclair reader

synopsis: you’re a cheerleader and he’s the school freak who’s had a crush on you forever. little does he know, you got a thing for him too.

contents: fluff, some angst, eddie being a corny mess, cussing, mutual pining word count: 1.2k

a/n: THIS IS GONNA BE A SERIES. idk what I'm doing and this might suck but I gotta write some eddie ff 😤 additionally i am a black woman, so i wrote this for myself and everyone else who wants the representation! THE TEXT MAY BE GLITCHED. if that’s the case im so sorry, i don’t know how to fix it😭

also let’s pretend that none of the vecna stuff is happening cause this is totally not following the canon story. sorry, not sorry 😮‍💨

chapter song (updated because this fits better in my opinion):

series masterlist

⭑･ﾟ･*.｡༅･ﾟ:*✿*ﾟ:༅･ﾟ｡.:*･ﾟ･⭑･ﾟ*.｡༅･ﾟ:*:✿:*ﾟ:༅･ﾟ｡.･ﾟ･⭑

It was the night of the championship game and Eddie's final campaign. Normally you would have gone straight home with Chrissy to hang out, but Lucas had found you during the game to spoil your plans.

“So, kind of a long story, but basically Erica’s here playing D&D in my place, and you gotta take her home.”

“And why exactly is this on me? That sounds like a Lucas problem.”

“Well now it’s a Y/n problem cause she biked here, it’s pitch black out and you know mom and dad will-“

“Completely freak if I don’t bring her back. Yeah yeah, I got it.”

You turn to Chrissy and apologize saying you’ll give her a call when you're home.

She smiles at you, “Y/n it’s okay. Sisterly duties call, plus this gives me an excuse to go to the after-party we were so desperately looking forward to avoiding. Jason’s going to be thrilled.” You both laugh and go back to watching the game while you're not cheering.

⭑･ﾟ･*.｡༅･ﾟ:*✿*ﾟ:༅･ﾟ｡.:*･ﾟ･⭑･ﾟ*.｡༅･ﾟ:*:✿:*ﾟ:༅･ﾟ｡.･ﾟ･⭑

You knock again, louder this time, hoping they might actually hear it but you end up waiting a full minute before deciding to just go in. You begin to turn the handle but find the door is jammed. Placing all your weight against it, you keep pushing until-

“What the hell is going on! Oh-” You were now on the floor looking up to see the one and only Eddie Munson looking down at you with his big brown eyes.

“What the hell is going on! Oh-” You were now on the floor looking up to see the one and only Eddie Munson looking down at you with his big brown eyes.

“Oh shit, Y/n. Are you okay?” He asks, concern laced in his voice.

Eddie had always been sweet to you.

He sat behind you in Ms. O'Donall's class and never failed to make you laugh with his random outbursts. Whenever you took tests you’d always move your paper to the far right of your desk knowing he was peeking behind you.

However, it wasn’t enough to help him get a passing grade, but you always tried helping him out because you knew he was smart, he just didn’t care to study. It had caused you to develop a bit of a crush on him if you were being honest.

You look at him in the eyes and just burst out in laughter, Eddie had never heard you laugh before, well, really laugh. You’d always giggle at his jokes or laugh with your friends, but it was never like this. You were clutching your stomach and holding back tears, he thought you looked so beautiful. So real.

“I’m so sorry, I must’ve scared the shit outta you. with all that banging.” Eddie reaches his hand out for you, which you gladly take and stand up. “So why have you graced me with your presence m’lady?”

You blush, “Oh I’m just looking for Erica, I gotta take her home since it so dark out. Um, where is she by the way?”

“Ah the littlest Sinclair, I just met her today. She's very... pleasant." You look at him with wide eyes, "Are you sure we're talking about the same Erica?" He laughs at your comment.

"She just walked out with the others, I’m sure they haven’t gone too far. I could maybe… um.” Eddie stops talking when he realized you were still holding onto his hand, tightly, your thumb grazing his rings.

Eddie has had a crush on you since middle school. You caught his eye during the talent show when you sang 'I Will Survive'. You were nervous at first but ended up having so much fun on that stage and your voice was angelic, he fell in love instantly. And now you were standing in front of him and holding his hand.

You wave your free hand in front of his face, “Earth to Eddie, are you alright?” He snaps out of his trance and looks up at you.

“Oh yeah, um I was just going to say I could help you out, i- if you wanted me to of course!” He was bright pink, and you were still holding his hand.

“That’d be nice. Could probably use some help finding that little brat anyway.” You laugh before letting go of his hand and picking up your bag which had fallen down with you earlier.

As you release your hold on him, he quickly turns around to gather his stuff, face red as a tomato.

“By the way, I heard you earlier. Nice vocals, you should be in a band or something.” You joked, but soon saw Eddie’s face as he looked at you with a sad look.

“You don’t remember. Shit you don’t remember.”

“What are you talking about Munson?”

Eddie looks you dead in the face then suddenly jumps up onto the table and starts shredding an air guitar along to the music. After his performance, he jumps down and looks at you with hope in his eyes. “Nothin’? You’re killing me here Sinclair!” He holds his hands out and dramatically brings them to his chest as if he were holding a knife.

“Eddie what the hell are you- OH MY GOD WAIT. In middle school, you were totally in a band!” He claps his hands together triumphantly.

“I’m actually still in a band, but I’ll take it. Yeah, we’re uh-“ You quickly cut him off, “Corroded Coffin. How could I forget, your hair was all buzzed, I used to think it was so cute.”

Eddie was breathless. You thought he was cute. Not only that but you had remembered the stupid haircut he sported in his younger years. “Yeah well, your sister thinks I’m a ‘long-haired freak’ so maybe I should’ve kept it short.” You laugh, the real laugh that he was falling in love with.

“Well if it makes you feel better, I’m glad you grew it out. It’s very…” You stop and think about the best word to use, “metal. That and those tattoos you got."

Eddie’s heart stopped. There’s no way that you were right here in front of him complimenting his appearance that most of your friends had made fun of throughout the years. Oh so beautiful you, standing there and getting closer to him… getting very close to him. So close he thinks he might pass out right now. “Truthfully, I think you’re very handsome Eddie, no matter what stupid haircut you might have.”

Before he can respond, you plant a kiss on his pink cheek then run to the door, “I’ll see you outside Eds.”

Eddie gripped the table behind him to balance himself, trying wrap his head around what just happened. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by none other than Dustin.

“Eddie, what's the hold-up? You’ve been in here for a while are you okay?”

“I must’ve died and gone to heaven because an angel just kissed me”

“What the hell are you talking abou-“ Dustin stopped before smiling at Eddie putting 2 and 2 together after seeing you smiling like a lunatic in the hallway, “OH MY GOD YOU AND Y/N KISSED?! I gotta tell Lucas, he's gonna lose his shit.”

Before Dustin could run from the room, Eddie grabbed his collar to hold him back.

“Not a word to anyone Henderson. Not a fucking word.” Dustin nodded aggressively so he'd let him go.

“Now," Eddie puts on his jacket and composes himself, "let’s go outside, she’s waiting for me.”

a/n: that’s all 🧍🏽‍♀️ i hope this wasn’t terrible, i really tried my best! hoping to write a few more parts soon but i got work and stuff lol ☺️

im gonna make a taglist too, pls fill out this form if you wanna be on it!

taglist form

chapter 2

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x black reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x sinclair!reader #eddie #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #st4 #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fics #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x sinclair reader #Spotify #she's an angel series

[officialstrawhat]

The Rose of Dressrosa- Chapter 4

Hello! Sorry, I've been MIA recently. Things have not been great recently but I am hopeful everything will work out. Thank you to everyone who has been very supportive of this blog and of my writing it brings me so much happiness. :)

Anyway... As always please enjoy the next chapter!

Also, I'm about halfway through Whole Cake Island and O. M. G.!

Trafalgar D. Law x Fem!Reader

Chapter List

Summary:

After King Riku is dethroned, Doflamingo takes you under his wing and asks you to follow only one strict rule, "do not leave the palace alone". However, your sense of adventure is too great.

Law had only one thing in mind... Revenge. And you seemed like the best way to do that.

Warnings: Dark themes, manipulation

Note: Gif is not mine. Not Edited.

Word Count: 1.3K

Chapter 4

Bada Bada Bada….

Bada Bada Bada….

Bada Bada-

Click.

“Bepo, you there?”

“Captain?” Bepo's voice came clearly out of the snail. “Did you find what you were looking for?

“Yeah.” Was all Law said.

“Great! When are we leaving?”

“Change of plans, I have to stay a little longer and I don’t know when we’ll leave."

“What!” Bepo shouted.

“Just tell everyone to hang tight.” He tells his first mate, “There's a girl-”

“A GIRL! Seriously!” 

“Not like that!” Law said irritated, “I think I may have found a weak link in The Donquixote Family.” 

“But Captain-”

“Just tell everyone to hang tight. This will all be over soon.” 

“But-”

Click. 

Law humed amusedly as he recalled how you attempted to hide your excitement. It was so easy for him to convince you to meet him later tonight. Oh yes, his new plan for Doflamingo's downfall was well on its way.  He just had to get through tonight. His smile grew at the thought of you.  Obviously, you were some poor helpless little princess who was in over her head and was too trusting for your own good. He just knew it. 

-----

Quickly you walked through the secret passageway you were only a few minutes late. No one would notice. Hopefully…

When you open the secret entry no one is around. Taking a sigh of relief, you act as if you are just coming from your room.

Rounding the corner and came face to face with the closed fist of a green-haired bitch. You duck at the incoming swing and bring your leg up to sweep her leg. Monet was able to jump over your leg, and throw a punch in your direction again you dodge. You were so wrapped up in the fight that you accidentally dropped your book. As you watched it land on the expensive hardwood floor with a thud, Monet used this to her advantage and managed to back you into the wall of the corridor.  

“You're late.” She sounded bored as she pined your body against the wallpaper with her arm.

“Sorry. Couldn't be helped.” You told her not really feeling sorry at all.

“Training began ten minutes ago. Where were you?” Monet asked coldly. 

“She was with me,” Violet’s voice rang out, causing Monet to release you. The dark-haired woman walked to where you were standing, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I had some business in town and asked Y/N if she wanted to join.”

Monet blinked, “I see.” 

You're about ninety percent sure the green-haired woman did not believe her. But she couldn't prove otherwise. Finally, Monet's eyes looked back at you, “I expect to see you in the courtyard in ten minutes.” 

When Monet began to walk away she kicked the book out of her path, causing your anger to rise. You moved to follow her to let your fists do the talking, but you were pulled back by the woman who covered for you. 

Your head rounded back and Violet's face looked sour, “What the hell are you thinking?” 

“I’m thinking how can she walk with a huge stick up her ass.”

“Don't get smart,” Violet hissed, “What if you had been caught.”

You rolled your eyes, “But I didn't.”

“Get serious” The older woman scoffed, “What if I hadn't been here to help you.”

“But you were.”

“Yes now.”

“I'll just be more cautious next time.” you shrug out of her grasp and bend down to pick up your book.

“Next time?!” She said, alarmed, and massaged her temple as if she had a sudden headache. “If Doflamingo catches you, you could be in serious trouble.”

“Then I would just tell him I’m sorry.” you began to walk away, but she caught your arm again.

“You're being naive, the Young Master doesn't want to hear ‘sorry’”, she actually looked genuinely concerned about you. “He wants you to obey his orders. Please, Y/N. Don’t make him any more angry than he already is.”

—-

“Again.”  Monet circled you, as you had your eyes closed and palms facing outward, “Focus.”  

“I am.” you retorted. A part of you wanted to roll your eyes. You had been at this for months with almost no progress made.

“Focus harder, then,” she spat.

So you did, and in the grassy knoll that was created just for you in the training area of the courtyard. Eventually, a seedling sprouted small at first and began morphing into a full-grown tree that would have taken years to grow. Monet walked to it to see the fruit it bore. 

Reaching in the green lush she picked the fruit off the branch, “Peaches.” she said flatly.

“I’m doing the best I can,” you cross your arms at her disappointment.

“Well it's not good enough,” She growls. “The Young Master expects Devil Fruits.” 

“Why does Doffy even care about them?” You ask aggravated at her constant criticisms, “It's not like he can eat another.”

“Devil Fruits are not just some special little miracle like in your fairy tales. Devil Fruits can offer power, When you have power over the prospect of producing power, well -"

She held up the fruit to her face and continued, "That kind of power can control the world.” she squeezed the fruit into mash between her fingers letting the juices drip. “Or destroy it.”

You had never been scared of Monet, but in that moment as she spoke a chill ran down your spine.

—-

The sun had set. And the citizens of Dressrosa tucked themselves into their homes and the toys went back to the toy factory. All was quiet...

You wouldn't believe your luck. You finally met someone who wasn't from Dressrosa. Someone with a ship of their own. Someone who has lived and seen things that have been mentioned in the stories you’ve only read. Places you could only dream of…

You found the man who had taken over your thoughts leaning against the brick wall of the cantina alley where you first met him. 

“Was starting to think you weren't going to make it.” 

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“So where are you taking me first?”

“I was thinking we could go off the beaten path a bit.”

“Lead the way,” he smirked. 

You gladly obliged and began walking down the sidewalk, “So how long are you planning on staying here”

“Just as soon as I get what I need.”

You nod. “So tell me about all the islands you've been to” 

“Why don't you answer some of my questions first.”

“What do you want to know?” you were immediately guarded.

“For Starters what's with all the toys?” 

“What about them?”

 “What are they?” Law asked curiously, “What's their purpose?”

“They’ve just always been here” You shrug, “Why?”

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen anything like them.”

“You mean they're not on other islands?” You replied surprised.

“None that I’ve been to.” 

“And where have you been?” you ask slyly.

Law smirked and began telling you about all the different islands he had been to.  Apparently, there was an island, not that far from Dressrosa, that lived a race of animal people called Minks. He explained to you how there was also an Island made of fishmen too. And in return, you began telling him all about Dressrosa. About all the towns and you also spoke to him about the Colosseum. Though you had never been inside it you explained that it was such an amazing landmark. And finally at the center of the whole island was the King's Plateau.

Law immediately took an interest in this subject. “Quite a unique place. Your King must be proud.”

“I guess.” 

“What do you think he’s like?” Law prodded.

“He’s-” Intense. Intimidating. Just… Doffy. “He’s King. Who knows.” 

Law seemed unimpressed with your response but decided not to push you. You were guarded, and that was fine. It was actually smart of you in a way. It didn't matter, as long as he stuck to the plan he would get everything he wanted. All in due time.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @rebeccawinters @mj-airlines @awkwardspontaneity

#trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #angst #dark themes #romance #donquixote doflamingo x reader #trafalgar law x fem!reader

[smalltimidbean]

hi again! So I have a lot I wanna say following the anatomy post, as I'll be calling it, because even though it's fresh I read the whole thing and I'm glad we know more about the clones :D and also I assume now would be a good time to ask about because of how fresh it is. ANYWAYS let's get to it!

So I wanted to ask about these specific parts, and what I could tell from them:

To summarize, a clone bearing a toothy grin is threatening, and a clone sticking its tongue out/drooling/licking it lips is not threatening. This is the premise I worked under when I made this:

(In like, 2 minutes. I wonder if anyone can tell!)

As you can see, I added a few facial expressions that weren't mentioned l, and that I wonder their meaning in relation to what has already been stated. I think I can confidently predict what the first two mean, thanks to the fact that clones have made those facial expressions before. Though anyone is welcome to correct me if I'm wrong!

Closed-mouth and open-mouth smiles are not threats, unlike the toothy "smiles" which are. The quotation mark around "smile" in the original post(as well as a part of pep's toyhouse page(which didn't appear in the Tumblr post from several months past)) also indicate that the threatening smiles are not genuine, and so smiles without teeth are genuine expressions of joy.

The other one, though, seems to send somewhat mixed messages. That expression is saying both that "I am a threat" and "I am not a threat, " which when a applied to the only clone we ever see donning this face, Pep, is true. Though, whenever he smiles like that, it is genuine and not an attempt to threaten anyone. Is this because he's smiling at something or someone other than a fellow clone, and he knows that, in order to communicate the same emotion he has to make a different facial expression depending on if he's making it at clones on non-clones?

But uhh yeah :D hope this wasn't too long winded and that I made any sort of sense lol!

Yaya! I have a ton of clone info I wanna post, but I have been trying to figure out how/where to do that, so I might just unload it all here in chunks kjlfdkfg

Asking questions about clone stuff is alright, and it helps me figure out stuff, or point out if I have contradicted myself - which happens more than I would like kjfgkjfg

Although for these points, perhaps I spoke too broadly as this post was supposed to be on anatomy and not behaviour, but I guess I can't help myself kjdfgk - it is also why I did not mention other types of smile

But for clones there are genuine smiles, and there are threat 'smiles', like this;

Threat smiles are not expressions of joy, they are meant to convey 'I have teeth, and I will use them if you continue to upset me' or simply 'you are bothering me' if they are not showing teeth - whereas genuine smiles are just that, they are happy

If you add a tongue to a threat 'smile', it is still considered a threat due to other aspects like the eyes and stance etc, but more along the lines of either a submissive threat ('I am scared, please leave, or I will attack') or the clone is hungry ('I will eat you if approached, so back off for your own good') - but honestly it depends on the situation, sometimes clones already have their tongues out before threat 'smiling' and it ends up hanging out regardless dhfsdh

And yes, most of Pep's smiles have been genuine - there has been at least two with a threat 'smile' (both directed at or implied to be directed at Peppino) - but most of the time he is genuinely happy

It can be a bit confusing since clones are kinda animal, kinda people, so they get both that 'smiling is a threat' (animal side) and 'smiling is friendly' (people side) lfglgfd

When I make a post(s) on clone behaviours, I will be sure to make this more clear! But I still appreciate the questions!

#bean talks too much #Bean's PT AU Lore Tag #still need clone lore tag but ppfpttp tired #also hey the threat smile looks like someone #gee I sure wonder why (silly)

[ballblender]

Hey hey. Im here to put in my rq, can I get a Kise and aomine from Knb(if you don't write for two character, Kise will be fine) with a femreader who is like Nagi from blue lock. Like they are pretty good at a certain sports(you can choose any sports) and is very lazy to do things. I hope it's not too long :D. Feel free to decline, tq and have a nice day.

THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOREVER LMAO

i assume that they're dating, but if you meant platonic, just send me another ask! (i also haven't watched blue lock in a while so my Nagi personality is mostly based off of what i remember from his first few appearances) (she acts more like murasakibara oops)

Kise and Aomine with a Sporty!Lazy!Fem!Reader

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2

content: just fluff, use of 'babe' (aomine), tennis (kise), volleyball (aomine) both of them haul your lazy ass, use of Y/N

Kise Ryōta

It always surprises Kise whenever he sees you on the tennis court. You're always laser-focused, especially on days where you face difficult opponents. However, your stoicism and general demeanour always comes through.

"Come on Y/N-cchi! Don't you have an important match today?"

"Mmmmggghh..."

He sighs. This isn't the first time. He knows full well that you know that you can't miss this match, even if your opponent's school is rated one of the worst in the region.

"...I don't even have to play...I already know I'm gonna win..."

Kise knows you're right. In fact, every time you're about to play, he gathers DVD's of your opponent, so you can study the both of them together while cuddling.

He decides it's enough. Lord knows that your coach is already tolerating you the best she can, and every day, Kise fears for your position in the club.

Kise yanks off the covers, and faces a nice surprise. Not that kind of surprise.

"You're already in uniform?"

"Mmmphh...I was late training last night..."

He smiles warmly, feeling less urgency, and scoops you into his arms.

Kidding, he flips you over and hangs you over his shoulder, while crouching down to zip up the racket bag you left on the floor, and takes it with him.

He swears that he can feel your body relax, as if you're about to sleep again, flipped on his shoulder.

"Hey, hey! You can't just fall asleep! Your muscles are gonna be tired!"

"Fine..."

Don't worry though, he still carried you all the way to the match.

Aomine Daiki

The two of you would often rest on the roof together. sleeping your troubles away. Honestly, you were one in the same. That is, until Aomine's loss at the Winter Cup.

"Babe, get up, you got practice today right?"

You grumble in turn.

Suddenly, you feel yourself being hoisted up, and thrown over is shoulders.

"Daiki...i'm tired..."

"You won't be tired when you start moving your feet around."

He carries you all the way down to the volleyball courts, letting you slip off of his shoulders and into his arms, carrying you bridal style.

"Y/N. We're here."

He sets you down on the floor, before you promptly spin and bury your face into his chest, digging your nails into his shirt.

He notes how you look like a needy cat.

"Y/N!! Finally you're here!!"

"...Captain..."

Your captain walks over, and you fall into her arms as she laughs, hauling you over to the rest of the team for practice.

You found your groove quickly, sprinting across the court as if you hadn't been acting like a sloth a few minutes prior.

Aomine knew he hated losing; he also knew you hated it all the same.

----

this ask is probably 2 months old lmfao im sorry and i still have a kumatani one i'm halfway through but im writing again

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #knb aomine #aomine daiki #kise x reader #kise ryota #knb kise #aomine x reader #kurobas #knb #knb fanfic #knb drabble

[vxlepop]

A ticklish sleepover.

This is my first fiction story, I hope it's alright! The fic contains ler!April and lee!Donnie ( Rottmnt ). I write this as a platonic thing.

Warnings: None! It has a little swearing. But it's all fluff (: .

Donatello crept through the alleyway late at night, avoiding any chance of bumping into a human who wasn't April. He made sure to remain out of sight. Him and April had been planning this sleepover for a good while. Their friendship surely was awesome.

- 💚: Dee, hurry up!

- 💜: Calm down, kiddo. I'm almost at your apartment. [ Read 19:30 ].

Not even five minutes later, O'Neil heard a tap outside of her window. Jesus, that was fast. Talk about ninja skills. April proceeded to open her curtain to see the soft-shell turtle, wearing his purple hoodie, hanging upside down. Donnie never failed to make her giggle. April opened the window, allowing Donnie to hop on inside. But before that, Donnie had fallen. He fell straight onto his ass, making April hysterical.

"That was surprising quick!" April exclaimed.

"Oh please, just because I'm a turtle doesn't mean I'm slow." Donatello scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"I can tell. Good thing I have a list of everything we can do tonight! From watching movies, playing games, to prank-calling people!" April mentioned with such excitement. She signalled Donnie to follow her into her room. Donnie followed, of course. April's room gave off a nice cosy and comforting vibe. Her room was quite nice. Everything was organised.

"Nice room." The taller complimented. "And no, that wasn't sarcasm."

"Awh, thanks, Dee! Anyway, hope you like scary movies." April smirked.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You should know me by now - horror movies are the best!" Donnie gave a small smile. "I simply do hope you aren't calling me a scaredy cat.. well, turtle."

April had a huge Leo grin on her face, from one ear to the other. A LEO GRIN. She was challenging Donnie now. She walked up closer to him, having to look up due to his height. "Oh, but what if I am calling you one?" 'Feisty', Donnie thought to himself.

Donnie almost laughed. Almost. He looked down at her, giving off a scientist's smirk back. "Hah! It's on."

As April went to decide what movie to put on, Donatello was in the kitchen, grabbing snacks and drinks. He grabbed popcorn, sour sweets, and some cans of Cola. He placed them at one end of April's bed. April found a film to put on, "Pray for the devil".

Both of them sat down on April's bed as the movie began to play. It somewhat reminded them of "The Conjuring," only a little, though. As time went on, none of them got scared. Well.. that was until a jumpscare. The jumpscare was about the demonic figure appearing out of absolute nowhere. It's not the most attractive looking thing, that's for sure. Surprisingly, it made Donnie out of all people jump.

"FU– oh for the love of Newton's first law!" He whined in slight embarrassment. Oh, this was absolutely priceless. April saw and heard everything. Donnie? Donnie with facial expressions? There ain't no way! This night was just getting better and better. Yes, the soft-shell turtle was a little dramatic, but wow.

"Awh, Dee~! What's wrong?"

"Shut up."

"Gosh, if you're scared of that monster, then you should definitely be scared of this one.."

Donnie GLARED at April. Oh dear, he was screwed. He knew that for himself, and April, who was about to tickle the life out of the soft-shell turtle, definitely knew it herself.

'Nope!' Donnie thought to himself as he jumped off the bed, sprinting off. April laughed, immediately chasing him. "DONALD, YOU GET BACK HERE!" She yelled.

"I will. Just when ribosomes become non-important cell organelles."

April rolled her eyes. That turtle did love his science.

"That's not gonna happen, D. But what is gonna happen is–.." April pounced onto Donnie, straddling his hips. Oh, he was done for. April gave Donnie the chance for him to push her away, meaning he didn't want to be tickled. If he doesn't push anyone away, it meant that Donnie was alright with it. And today was April's lucky day. Yeah, sure, he did squirm, but he didn't push April away.

"The tickle monster is gonna feed off your laughter!" And without wasting a single second, she dug her fingers into his sides, getting a squeal out of Donnie. Donnie smacked his hands over his mouth, doing his best to prevent his laughter coming out. He giddily kicked his legs as he thrashed around. Donatello always had a bad habit of trying to prevent his laughter, just to keep up with his 'bad boy image'.

"Leo was right. You're not ticklish.. you've broken the ticklish scale!" God dammit. Leo, the little shit. Of course, his snarky twin had something to share.

"Shuhut up."

'How dare he? Who is my friend to tell me to be quiet?' O'Neil thought to herself, immediately digging her wiggling fingers under Donatello's arms. With great speed and force, the turtle's arms shot down quicker than you can yell, "cowabunga!" Despite his efforts to protect himself, his smile was now on display to April. His smile, his laugh.. rare, but amazing! It was nice seeing the soft-shell smiling for once. Not only April, but his brothers and Splinter loved to see him smile.

"Peekaboo! Someone's awfully sensitive under his arms."

"YOHOU HAHAHAVE NO ROHOOM TO SPEAK!" Donnie squealed. He looked so happy, April awed at the sight of him. He definitely needed this.

"Perhaps, but look at you! I think someone might be enjoying this."

"AM NOT! HOHOW DARE THEHEHEE MAKE SUCH A-ASSUMPTIONS?" In full honesty, he didn't mind being tickled. But with him being a soft-shelled turtle and sensitive skin, he wasn't always okay with physical contact.

"Oh, I dare quite easily! But tell that to thay small blush on your face!" April smirked.

"OHOHO, FUCK OHOHOFF!"

"Excuse me?" April promised she'd never do this often, for which it was rare, but she dragged a single finger down the sides of his soft-shell, getting a snort in response.

"OH NOHOHOHOHOHO!! I'M SORRY, DOHOHON'T!" Yep. Ladies and gentlemen, that was D's worst spot.

"I promise I'll stop when you want me to, okay?" April smiled softly. She'd never overstep his boundaries. Donnie nodded as April began to gently trace all over the sides of his shell, making twist, buck, kick, squirm.. you get the idea. It was that bad, tears threatened to fall due to him laughing his ass off.

"THAHAHAHAT'S SOHO BAHAHAD! I CAHAHAHAN'T, PLEAHEHESE STOP!"

That was Donnie's breaking point, and April knew it. She immediately stopped, getting off the turtle, and sat down beside him. She did question if she took it too far. It was VERY rare for April to tickle his death spot on his shell. She had always been cautious.

"Are you okay, D? Was that too much?"

Out of breath, the turtle replied, "I-I'm good. You didn't take it too far at all. Thank you for respecting my boundaries." April gently patted Donatello's head in response. They remained on the floor until Donatello had fully recovered from the playful tickle attack. His body felt at ease, and he felt relaxed.

"You wanna order some pizza?" April smiled.

"You bet! Just please.. not hawaiian."

April laughed out loud. Her friend really did hate that stuff. For the rest of the night, they ate pizza, watched movies that aren't in the horror genre, prank-called every big business they knew! It was such the night to remember! Donnie was smiling from ear to ear. This truly was a night to remember. As some may can call it, a ticklish sleepover.

AAAHHHH, HI! THIS WAS MY FIRST EVER FANFIC I HAVE WRITTEN AND *POSTED*. APOLOGIES AS FOR IT WON'T BE THE GREATEST EVER, BUT I HOPE IT WAS OKAY! (　＾ω＾).

Tags: @mythica0 @someone1348 @sunsetsandsunshine @anxious-lee

#Rottmnt #Rottmnt tickle #First fic #Donatello #Lee!Donatello #April O'Neil #Ler!April #Sfw #Sfw tickle fic #Fluff #Tickle fluff #Tmnt #Teenage mutant ninja turtles #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

[roguemaki]

Hi again! I hope you’ve been doing well these days :)

It’s been a while since i checked my tumblr so i just saw the scanlation you had posted for the staff artbook, and i just wanted to send you a huge thank you for it since it was such a pleasure to read all the comments and messages by the staff who worked on the show. I can tell that it was a great amount of hard work so thank you so very much for doing all of these translations 😭.

Also i just had the time to watch the stream for GNF’s public MajoRaji recording and while i could understand Lynn & Kana’s episode commentary from the tweets about it on Twitter, there is this one moment between the two at the end that many people are talking about that unfortunately I couldn’t understand and no one has translated yet so I was wondering if you could translate it/ maybe even just an explanation would be helpful? Sorry in advance for taking up your time with this! I’ll link the tweet here:

https://twitter.com/akceart/status/1710610723691487658?s=46

Was also wondering if you watched the event on YouTube and if so, what did you think of it and what moments stood out to you? :)

Hey hey! Good to see you back on tumblr and I'm glad that you enjoyed reading through the staff doujin scanlation. :D It certainly was a lot of work but it was worth it to get a glimpse into how the crew felt about the show.

For the linked clip…

Context: MajoRaji has an ongoing "Suletta Duel" corner, where Kana participates in listener-submitted challenges (usually against whoever's guesting). The one who fails/loses also has to fulfill a specific request stipulated by the listener. In this case…

相方へ、 この1年間の感謝の気持ちを、 語尾に自分のキャラ名をつけて言おう！ To your partner, declare feelings of gratitude for the last year while using your character name at the end of each statement!

So in the clip… Kana, as the loser of the duel, is saying thanks to Lynn.

Lynnちゃまがミオリネさんでよかったでスレッタ。 Lynn-chama, I'm glad that you were Miorine-san (Suletta). Lynnちゃまが一緒にともにこの1年を歩んできたから私は楽しく入れたでスレッタ。 Lynn-chama, we had a lot of fun together over this last year (Suletta). この1年、Lynnちゃまのことが大好きになったでスレッタ。 Over this last year, Lynn-chama has become very dear to me (Suletta). これからも、プライベートでも遊んでくれると嬉しいでスレッタ。 Lynn-chama, it makes me happy that we'll continue to hang out as friends from now on (Suletta). そして、最後にLynnちゃま、大好きでスレッタ！ And finally, Lynn-chama… I really love you (Suletta)!

It's super cute because Kana uses chama as her honorific for Lynn (a combo of the familiar chan and deferential sama) and ends every statement by combining the verb desu ("is") with "Suletta" as desuretta. Plus the fact that they're both so flustered at the end. :P

As for what I thought about the MajoRaji public recording overall… it was super fun! The "Suletta Duel" corner was definitely my favorite bit. Seeing Kana and Lynn competing to do a better 1-minute illustration of a random GWitch character/pose… Kana's drawing in particular is something else - it made me laugh so hard.

I've already transcribed the duel part and am planning to do a subtitled video, so please look forward to it. bO.O

#pnkbearr #always good to hear from you #rmaki replies #as for how I'll convey the -chama and desuretta stuff in a way that makes sense in a subtitle #who knows lol