#And I don't want to swamp their ask box

[scarletfasinera]

Anyway since I can't send an ask because of character limit and I gave up after trying to write it three different ways and it not working, I'll just. Idk write a short vague post back? I'm assuming a vague for a vague is fair (don't worry I don't want to be mean I just have no other way of navigating this situation.) Since I'm exhausted & but want to at least express my view of it.

Idk just on the off chance they see this or one of our shared mutuals shows them or something. My "weak subtext" post had absolutely nothing to do with Adam Warlock, I didn't even remember that I reblogged that poll before making my post. I had seen like six other polls after the Adam one, bc I was actively looking through the blog, that did the exact thing my post was about, the blogrunner (who shall remain anonymous) had Pointed Out in private that it was happening and gave several examples & it was distressing them so I checked the blog myself and commented on it, which was why I made the post. Not the Adam poll in particular which I didn't remember and wasn't thinking about. I do not know enough about Adam to say anything about either the text or the subtext or anything, so I just. Wouldn't? It really baffled me that it was read that way.

Anyway. Farewell beloved mutual we barely knew ye...

[weird-an]

Billy comes home from work, limbs aching and fingers dirty from working at the garage all day. Their apartment is a shitty little thing, a dumpster how Mrs. Harrington called it the one and only time she had been visiting and Steve told her it's more of a home than the big empty house back in Loch Nora.

He stops dead on his tracks. Steve is wearing his best dress shirt and there's a fucking rose next to a candle on the table.

"What is this?" Billy asks. His heart is sinking into a swamp. He hates surprises as much as he hates turning his back against the door.

"Just some... uh.. slightly burned lasagna." Steve's face turns red.

"That's why I do the cooking." Billy frowns. "Are you breaking up?"

This doesn't make any sense. They don't do romance. Billy can't.

"What? No!" Steve groans. "Why would I try to bake cherry pie for that?"

Billy huffs out a laugh, more relief than anything. Also, there's a red smudge on Steve's most expensive shirt.

"We've been together for five years now," Steve begins. "Even if you were in denial for... like the first three years."

Billy swallows hard.

"I love you," Steve says. "And I know you love me, too."

Billy bites his tongue. He has never said it. He can't, stumbles over his own tongue the second he thinks of it. He tries to show Steve instead, sometimes too harsh or too clumsy, because he isn't really sure what gentleness is supposed to be, but he tries.

"Billy, I want to stay with you forever." Steve gets out a tiny black box with shaky hands. "I'll love you every day, every night. Do you wanna marry me?"

He opens the box. The golden band sparkles in the candlelight.

"We can't get married," Billy croaks. The ring is broader than a usual wedding band - which it can't be anyway, because they can't get married and because Billy isn't stupid enough to believe that Steve wants to stay with him until death.

Steve grins at him, a shining star in the dark of the night. "We fought against monsters. We left Hawkins. We can do anything."

"But it's- The state-"

"It's not about the piece of paper," Steve says. "It's about us."

"Yes," Billy hears himself say. Because he can never say no to Steve Harrington. Because he tried to get away from him, but every way to happiness leads back to him. Because Steve is a gift Billy didn't know he needed, because Steve is his ocean, because Steve is the sun rising in the morning.

Steve's smile is brilliant. His lips taste like burned cheese and red wine.

Billy never thought he'd get married. Billy never thought he'd have a future. Billy never thought he could love someone like he does love Steve.

"I don't want six kids," he mumbles. He wouldn't know how to be a father, he thinks.

Steve gives him a knowing look. "How about five?"

[sugawarassoulmate]

what if reader were to visit bad boy! akiteru at his job? i think she’ll end up bent over his desk

i am unwell about this sksksk

words: 382 cw: fem!reader, unprotected sex, desk sex, minors dni

reader so innocently visiting akiteru at his job 🥹 nodding along and asking questions when he gives her a tour of the office. all his co-workers are happy to meet her "this is the y/n??? he talks soooo much about you!!"

it caps off with akiteru showing off the pictures he has of you on his desk so he can stay in a good mood even when he's swamped with work. you're so love sick that you don't notice him locking the door of his office.

"akiiii, we can't you'll get in trouble~" you whine into your hand, doing nothing to stop your boyfriend as he drills his cock into you over and over. it was easy for him to bend you over his desk and pull your pretty shorts down.

akiteru shuts you up with his long fingers rubbing against your clit, sending even more pleasure through your body. "just keep moaning into your hand, sweetie. nobody's gonna get in trouble, it's okay," he coos, cursing under his breath when you tighten around him.

you try your best to keep quiet, finding it hard as akiteru does everything in his power to get you to cum. he had overwhelmed you today—from his sweet, doting side that bragged to his coworkers about you to the depraved side that just wanted you fuck you like an animal at his workplace.

akiteru makes you cum twice before finally spilling his seed inside you, grunting in your ear as he does. "fuck, baby, i'm sorry," he groans, kissing the back of your neck."i just couldn't help myself. you looked so pretty today..."

"babyyyy," you whined, feeling the stickiness between your thighs. "you have to clean me up."

"i know, just give me a second," he says, reaching for the box of tissues on his desk. he does the best he can to wipe everything off of you, knowing that you won't be happy until you've showered but his efforts have you content for now.

he showers you with kisses after getting your clothes back on, thanking you for coming along to work with him.

"if i get treated like this every time, i might just visit you more often," you teased.

"don't threaten me with a good time," akiteru says before kissing you once more.

©sugawarassoulmate 2023 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[morallyinept]

Ring Toss - A Frankie Morales One Shot 🍩

Summary: Frankie comes home with a box of treats, just for you.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x GN!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It's you, bub.)

Word Count: 2.5k-ish

Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶🌶 "It's the emergence, of."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Explicit: Oral, M receiving/mild dirty talk. Delicious food porn with Frankie. What else is there to say?

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don't come at me; you've been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author's Note: Frankie and donuts... 🤤 Dedicated to lovely @secretelephanttattoo 🍩😘

MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

The box of sweet, sticky treats is calling your name.

You can’t resist them. Nu-uh, no way. Your one weakness and he knows it.

You pout up at him, trying to be riled, but the smirk on his tan face blooms across those luscious pink lips of his, and despite you wanting to slap it off of his chops at his gall of tempting you - you know you can't resist his sweet face either under that patchy scruff.

“I’m on a diet.” You scowl at him, trying not to smirk back.

“Screw the diet, hermosa. You can have one, right?” Frankie shrugs, looming in front of you.

“Noooo. It’ll undo all the hard work I did at the gym today.” You whine. The ache in your calves reminds you to hold strong. And maybe not go so hard on the cross trainer next time...

Frankie scoffs, holding the box out to you and you continue to refuse the sugary, deep-fried treats that are inside ganging up on and leering at you.

You can smell them. Oh God. It's like he's opened up Pandora’s Box and colourful sprinkles and sticky, creamy glazes are calling out to you; luring you in like a Siren song only you can hear.

Hijo de puta!

“I got 'em fresh. I got the custard ones, I know they’re your favourite.” Frankie insists with a tempting pink purse of his lips.

“You did?” You ask leaning forward to peer into the box.

Yep, there they were; oozing and sticky with that thick gloop leaking out of one of them like it had been shot and was bleeding out its vanillary insides.

No, stop it!

“Yeah.” He nods, smiling pleasantly down at you from under that well worn in cap; his messy curls rioting behind his ears. Deep brown eyes penetrate you with a beguiling simmer laced around them.

It was really sweet of him, touching. He knows what you like and how to make you happy. It's the little things Frankie does that give you the constant heart eyes for him.

The way he holds open the passenger side door for you on his beat up Pickup, and always takes your hand as you step out like you're his queen.

The way he always greets you when you come home from work with a swamping, lingering kiss, pushing you up agaisnt the back of the door, readily equipped with his large hands squeezing and groping at your body affectionately, before you've even said hello to one another.

The way he stops off on the way home from his group therapy sessions on a Thursday, to grab a box of fresh donuts from Dough Boyz, and ensures your favourites are plentiful.

Frankie smiles with tempting, molten eyes. Big browns out on full display. That same puppy-dog look he gives you which renders you absolute mush at his feet, usually.

“I hate you.” You shake your head. The pout is back and it's staying put. Much like your stony resistance.

“You hate me, huh?” Frankie baulks with a tinkling chuckle as he scratches at his scruff under his chin.

You fold your arms, sinking back into the couch and refusing him, trying to watch the TV - anything to distract you away from that heady, saccharine scent that wafts from the forbidden box of calorific delights.

“Suit yourself, muñeca. More for me.” Frankie says casually, tossing the box on the coffee table.

“I hope you get fat!” You call to him playfully as he saunters off towards the kitchen, his laugh echoing around you.

"You want a coffee?" He calls back.

"No, thanks," you humpf in response.

He leaves it there, lid open whilst he goes into the kitchen. You glance at it; your eyes darting back and forth at the temptation of sticking your fingers in and selecting the one that oozes with that yellowy-golden custard you long to taste cloying around your gums.

It's a test. You know it. Leave it open to tempt and twist you into finally submitting, and then Frankie would walk in to catch you red-handed and to see half of them snarffed up; crumbs mottled down your top and smeared sugar constellations across your cheeks.

Oh, he is such an asshole!

Frankie pads back into the lounge after a few minutes with his coffee and sits on the sofa adjacent to you, putting his long legs up on the coffee table and crossing them at the ankles. He reaches forward for a donut.

You watch as his dexterous, thick fingers pry a glazed ring out of the box, and he sits back into the cushions getting comfortable, bringing it up to his mouth.

Oh, it's like watching a filthy, X-rated porno.

How those plush, pink lips would part and he’d bite into the dough, licking his lips free of the sticky glaze. Shrapnels of glaze getting stuck in the fuzz of his moustache.

He watches the TV absentmindedly whilst he feasts quietly, unaware you want to launch the box of sugary treats at his head for bringing them here, the shithead.

But you want one, you soooo want one.

No! I worked hard this week. No treats!

But one won’t hurt.

You can’t just have one though, can you?!

But he brought you custard donuts, he loves you.

Fuck!

His dark eyes flick towards yours and you look away as he brings his coffee back up to his lips and smirks.

You try to invest yourself into whatever the heck it is rolling across the TV screen, but the overwhelming scent of sugar, and the sound of him smacking his lips together, soon draws your attention away again.

Frankie sucks his fingers slowly; the squeaking wet sounds of them popping out of his lewd mouth, before he runs his tongue around his teeth, sounds like it's gunfire inside your ears, thundering.

Loud enough for you to know the bastardo is doing it on purpose. Louder than the steam coming out of your ears.

Fuck that fucking fucker!

Your willpower is waning as you stare at the box of donuts on the coffee table taunting and seducing you.

No, I'm not going to give in. He wants me to and I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. Nope!

You glance at Frankie and he's watching you again with those dark chocolate eyes. “Just have one, you know you want to.” He tempts you.

Yeah, all he needs is a horned tail and a pitchfork, right?

“That’s not the point, I can’t have one. You know I can’t.” You sulk, shaking your head.

“Why? Because you went to the gym? One donut isn’t going to fucking hurt, hermosa.” He scoffs, chuckling.

You turn away again. “You don’t get it.”

“Hey, I’m all for keeping fit, but a treat now and again in moderation is good, baby.” He smiles. "You've earned it."

You shake your head trying to ignore him.

“You’re really gonna resist?” Frankie questions.

You nod. “Yes. Yes I am.”

“Well alright.” He sighs, admitting defeat.

You watch the TV again, smouldering away. You then see him reach forward and put his coffee cup down on the table in your peripherals.

He reaches into the box, with those wandering fingers once more. The one he pulls out is a plain one; the sister of the previous he'd just devoured.

He eyes it and then puts it back and reaches for another that takes his fancy instead; this time choosing one with sprinkles scattered across the pink, shiny glaze.

He sits back into the cushions again and looks darkly at you.

“You really won’t eat this?” Frankie questions.

“No.” You shake your head again feeling your brain rattle inside your skull.

“But what if I really want you to eat it, to enjoy it? I mean, I brought these as a reward for how well you’ve been doing lately at the gym… what a waste.” He sighs, shaking his head. He pouts at you too, those thick lips pursed out.

“Are you trying to guilt trip me, Morales? It’s not working.” You confirm, frowning.

"Ya lo veremos..." Frankie sighs with a slick smile.

"Stop it," you warn.

You watch him put the donut between his lips and then let go; it balances precariously between those plumpy, pink smackers and his fuzzy moustache.

With his hands, he simply reaches down, undoes the buckle on his belt, the button on his jeans, and then unzips his fly.

You watch, with widening eyes, as he pulls out his cock and pumps it a few times in his fist.

You can hear him groan around the donut hanging out of his mouth; eyes rolling back as he acqaints himself with his thick, swelling dick.

Oh shit...

He jerks on his cock; little wheezed breaths pelting out of his chest, until he's fully hard and rigid in his hand.

He looks at you the whole time he's doing it too.

“What... are you doing?” You baulk at him, feeling hot prickles dance on the back of your neck. The heat flares all over your body and you clench your fist around the throw over the couch you're sitting on.

He waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively with a small shrug of his shoulders, unable to speak with the donut hanging out of his mouth; his saliva starting to melt the glaze that he can feel pooling in the corners.

Frankie then takes the donut from his mouth, licking crudely at his lips, and simply places it over his stiff cock. Sliding his thick member through the hole tightly in the centre, and pushes it down as far as it will go without breaking.

The donut rubber-rings itself around him and he lets go. His cock stands up right, fully hard and bobbing two and fro a little with the weight of the donut around it.

You swallow hard as he sits there waiting for you expectantly. He rests his arms over the top of his head; eyes peering darkly at you from under the rim of his cap. He juts his hips forward, challenging you brazenly.

Frankie's smirk is widening, and your cheeks are turning more red as the seconds wear on. Red with fury, red with abject need...

Oh, you son of a b-

“Frankie-”

“Eat it,” he encourages with an ever-widening grin and beckons you over with two fingers. "Come here."

You sigh, and then giggle in unison with him as he chuckles.

"You're such an ass."

“Come on,” he rouses, wiggling his hips from side to side and his cock rocks, life buoyed inside the donut and bites his lip suggestively.

You stand up, completely caving; a sound escaping you similar to a bear disturbed from their hibernation, and make your way towards him, utterly burning up now.

Yeah, he’s totally done a number on you alright.

“You’re gonna make a mess all over your jeans.” You roll your eyes.

He shakes his head. “You’d better eat it quickly then before it sticks.” Frankie teases as you approach him.

He runs his pointer finger around the orbit of the donut, in the pink glaze, and sucks it into his mouth.

"Mmm," he quips and klaxons sound in your ears.

“You’re such a bad influence,” you remark to him, trying to resist his allure.

He pulls you forward by your wrists and your face meets his. “It’s why you love me.” He purrs before he kisses you.

"I do, damnit." You sigh.

His lips are sweetly tasting and you suck on his bottom lip, sampling the crusted glaze and groan in delight at the sugar rush of it.

You reach down to feel his swollen head poking out the top of the donut oozing. You suck your fingers and they are sweetly swirled with the donut glaze and that salty glaze all of his own that beads from the slit.

“You taste really good.” You murmur to him.

“Oh, I know,” Frankie smirks. “You should have more of me, hermosa.” He incites.

You kneel down between his legs and crane forward. Looking up at him, you take a gentle bite from the donut, and he bites his lip again watching you.

Oh, it tastes fucking better than you could have imagined.

Your fingers are scratching inside the soft, downy hairs of his thighs into his groin as he thrusts his hips out a little more towards you.

The donut tastes fantastic, and you make sure to allow your lips to brush over him now and again, making him gasp and shudder.

Yeah, now it's your turn to tease the fuck out of him.

The gummy taste of the glaze coates him and sticks to his skin; you eat more of the donut from around his cock, savouring it. It's a sticky sweet mess that makes you whine. Makes you sweat. Makes your head swim and your sex pulse in desire and need.

"That's it, baby. Eat it all up..." Frankie encourages.

You scoff the donut around him, slowly revealing more of his impressive and hard cock that you long to devour.

Thick, veiny and so fucking hard. A beautifully flushed head that drips and throbs as you run your tongue over it, tasting every morsel of that sticky syrup.

Your body clenches and drools in response.

"Mmm," he croons, smiling.

Frankie runs his hands through your hair as you finish it; crumbs from the dough dotted around his length and dappled in the fuzzy short hairs at the base of him as you swallow your last mouthful of the wondrous treat.

His eyes burn into yours as he watches you lick up the side of his shaft where the glaze is stuck in wet globules, and you feel his cock pulse in response.

“Yeah…” He whispers, keenly and nodding at what's to come. "Suck it."

You open your mouth as you get to the top, placing him inside and you swallow him down.

“Fuck!” Frankie whines out; his head thrown back against the couch cushions as you give him that sweet, succulent head that he craves.

Your fingers claw into his thighs as you bob up and down, head stuffed inside his lap, sucking him clean. You lick and kiss the whole length of him. Tonguing around the head like a popiscle, licking up the thick vein on the underside of his shaft, and slurping him down deeper into the trenches of your throat.

You feel him put a gentle pressure on the back of your head; he wants you to deep throat him, to take him in all the way. To choke and gag on him as that frothy spittle hangs from your lips.

He grunts out as you do it; swallowing his thick, tasty cock deep inside your throat and pressing your nose against the skin above his groin.

You inhale him in, sighing in satisfaction as you do. You love the taste of him, the fullness of him. The way he packs you out around your cheeks.

He feels you heave around him and hisses out as the back of your throat squeezes around him.

"Eso se siente tan jodidamente bien, no pares..." he groans with a silky hiss.

Frankie pulls out and you gasp for air; crystal saliva strings dangling from his swollen head to your mouth.

He pulls you up and kisses you; tasting the donut, tasting himself and smirking at you.

Sucking on your tongue, Frankie whines and your body is burning up. You're craving more. The sugar rush floods through your veins making your fingers shake.

"More, baby." Frankie encourages. "You're so fucking good at that."

He lets go of you and you go back to sucking him off. Holding the base of him steady, and he throws his hands up again behind his capped head, shuffling down the couch a little; enjoying the show of you taking him in.

Hungry for it, hungry for him. Basking in that candy coated wonderland of that sweet tasting cock.

You work his shaft, pumping as you go to really get him going; massaging his balls that are aching to release, and give him plenty of eye contact as he watches you mouth on him.

“Fuck, baby I’m gunna come…” Frankie gasps; his thighs twitching and shaking as he releases, filling your mouth with that delicious, thick custard of his own.

He tastes so fucking good.

He watches, enthralled, as you swallow it all down, licking your lips and sucking your fingers afterwards.

“Yum,” you murmur at him with a wink.

Frankie smiles at you through flushed cheeks and blissed out brown eyes like he's high, utterly beside himself in post-coital dumbness for a few beats.

You promptly stand up and turn to the box on the coffee table, plucking out that weeping custard donut, and sit back in your spot on the adjacent couch and bite into it.

Frankie chortles loudly; cock and balls still out as you devour that delicious custard treat without any ounce of guilt.

"Knew you couldn't resist." He chants.

"You play dirty, Morales." You say around a mouthful and it's heavenly.

"Always, hermosa."

Yeah, one or two donuts won’t hurt, right?

I really hope you enjoyed reading this tasty treat with Frankie. If you did, please consider re-blogging this so others can also have their fill. I'd love to know your thoughts too. Thanks so much for reading! 🖤

MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

[darubyprincx]

Well damn, Mumbo was back.

Evil Xisuma didn't have a comms device of their own. They figured this out because the man himself flew up to them asking about diamonds.

"Uhh, hello, X?"

"What?" they asked, turning around to see a very nervous Mumbo (oh, who were they kidding, he was always nervous) standing behind them, holding a shulker box.

"Oh, you're not- my bad," he said, stepping backwards. "Sorry. I thought you were Xisuma."

"That's a first," muttered EX. "How the Hels did you fuck up that badly?"

"Right, you can swear," sighed Mumbo. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I just- do you know where X is?"

"Nope."

"Okay," said Mumbo. "Do you think you'd be able to help me with-" [he waved his free hand vaguely] "diamond stuff?"

EX had zero idea how this man found them, or what the hell he wanted, or even why he was talking to them at all. Most Hermits just avoided this part of the Nether, and let them do their thing. But here Mumbo was, just standing there, diamonds in hand. Sure. Why not.

"Elaborate," they said, leaning back against the wall.

"Okay," started Mumbo. "I left the server a few months back to go on a trip, right?"

"Allegedly."

"When I- when I left, I was the richest Hermit. And then I got back, and I thought well I'm definitely not the richest Hermit anymore, but then I checked in my vault and there was substantially more diamonds in there than I remember?"

"What does any of this have to do with me or X?" asked EX flatly. At this point, they were just considering telling him to shove off and let them continue building this wall. This was a waste of time.

"I was wondering," said Mumbo, looking anywhere but their face (did this man go to therapy for anxiety? EX sure hoped he did. This was embarrasing.), "if you had perhaps lost any?"

What the fuck?

"I know you haven't been around," said Mumbo with a sigh, "but this is why I was looking for X first, and I just got really lost on my way there, and maybe there might be a chance that you-"

EX paused him with a wave of their hand. "You are smoking warped mushrooms if you think I have been anywhere close to the Overworld," they said, walking closer. "If this had been any other person, or any other situation, I would have said that oh yeah, I took your puny little diamonds, but this? I'm not even going to pretend that I have. Come on. Seriously, how did you get all the way out here?"

"I thought it was worth a shot," said Mumbo, stepping back two paces and almost tripping over a dint in the netherrack. "Since, y'know, that was sort of your whole thing in season 8-"

EX sighed. "We don't talk about season 8."

"Sorry."

There was a dead silence of about 10 seconds in which EX turned back around and continued building the wall. Hearing no footsteps or rockets, they turned back around and raised an eyebrow. "X's portal is about three thousand blocks southwest of here. If you want to make it before the sun goes down in the Overworld- maybe it's already set, who knows- you should probably get on it."

Mumbo cleared his throat. "Uh. Yeah that'd be good. Thanks?"

"Do you go to therapy for anxiety?"

"What?"

"You need therapy. Get out of my swamp."

Mumbo nodded and, almost dropping the shulker box, flew off in the direction that EX had specified.

They watched him go for a while longer, hands on hips. What a guy. What a weird fucking guy.

[reidsaurora]

Hey sweet!! I wanna request for the Leo baby birthday cake

“you can’t scare me like that, okay?” with Luke Alvez. Thank you so much!!

thank you for the request! sorry this took so long, my personal life has been swamped lately and i haven't had much time to write 😅 hope you like what i wrote though!

"In Your (Broken) Arms" ~ L. Alvez

pairing: luke alvez x fem!bau!reader

summary: it's just a fractured wrist, but to luke alvez, your stressed-out and over-protective boyfriend, it might just be cause to bubble wrap you.

word count: 626

warnings: takes place in a hospital, mild sexual humor, very mild swearing, i think that's it!

genre: fluff <3

based on the prompt: "you can't scare me like that, okay?"

extra notes: the ending is rushed, as per usual. i apologize for that. i hope you enjoy the rest though!

beta read by: @reidselle (love you <3)

masterlist | birthday bash | ask box

🧁 Leo Baby Birthday Cake - send me a character + a prompt from this list and i'll write you a blurb!

"You cannot scare me like that, okay?" Luke said between exasperated breaths as he walked into the exam room you currently sat in.

He pulled the curtain closed behind himself before sitting down next to your bed, watching as the doctor wrapped your wrist. "Hey, be gentle, she could've lost her arm."

You rolled your eyes before reassuring the doctor that your wrist would be fine. "Don't listen to him. I'm okay, I promise. Well, other than the obvious."

The doctor let out a soft chuckle as he focused on wrapping your wrist up properly. "Y/N's gonna be fine, sir, I can assure you. Fractured wrists are practically a daily occurrence for us emergency room docs."

Luke's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "A fractured wrist? Seriously?"

"Luke, we'll talk about this in a minute. Please let the doctor finish up his work."

The doctor met you with kind eyes. "No worries. I'm all done. I'll give you two a few minutes and send a nurse in with your paperwork in a little bit."

And with that, the man was on his way out the door, leaving you to deal with your stressed-out, and definitely overprotective, boyfriend.

Luke scooted his chair closer to the edge of your bed, taking your newly bandaged arm and placing a soft kiss over the new cast you sported.

You rolled your eyes, but placed a loving hand in his hair, running your fingers softly through his disheveled curls. "I'm okay, I promise."

"A fracture, Y/N," he reminded you. "There's a reason I told you to wait for me and Spencer to get that guy."

You winced as you remembered the pain of him flailing to get out of your grasp, his elbows hitting nearly every bone in your upper body as he tried to push you off. "Okay, maybe I could've waited but if you guys had arrived any later, he would've gotten away. I had to take my chances. Okay?"

Luke gave you a displeased pout, and you couldn't help but kiss it away. You loved him, really, but he sure knew how to be overprotective when he wanted to be, especially on the job.

"Hey, don't you dare use those pretty lips to distract me," he argued, brows meeting in an angry furrow. "I'm upset with you. You could've gotten yourself hurt. Hell, you did get yourself hurt."

"Luke," you sighed with exasperation, "I am fine. Now, will you please flag down a nurse so I can go home?"

He rolled his eyes, lips landing on yours for another gentle kiss. It didn't matter that you'd been dating Luke for over a year, he still knew how to make butterflies go off in your tummy every time he kissed you. "Don't think this is over," he warned, pulling away. "I'm gonna smother you like no one's business."

"Ooooh, I'm so scared of the big, bad teddy bear that is Luke Alvez," you rebutted, sticking out your tongue in banter.

"Watch it or I'll punish you," he said, heading toward the curtain.

A sly smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. "Now that is something I'd like to see."

He rolled his eyes, pulling open the curtain and heading out toward the nurses station, but not before uttering a quick, "I love you, querida."

"Yeah, yeah, I guess I love you too, bubble butt."

A soft voice, which you quickly figured out was Spencer, mumbled from the other side of the curtain. "Bubble butt?"

"It's…" Luke paused, trying to come up with an explanation. "It's a long story."

You just shook your head, eternally grateful for the man you got to call your boyfriend… and bubble butt.

-> taglist: @1234-angelika @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @danielle143 @esposadomd @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @cwritesforfun @cynbx

[its-weeping]

i. 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ! ‧ ₊˚ ❀

𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄

summary: how is it as miguel's wife?

warnings: none

pairing: miguel o'hara x spider-wife!reader

notes: headcanons! reader can speak spanish >:)) btw i'm using google translate for the translations.

despite being a complete brood in the office, his entire mood is different with you—naturally, you're his wife after all.

okay, but he threw a chair at you once.

you weren't as phased as anticipated, anomalies throw debris at you all the time!

in actually, you were suspecting he'd launch something your way one of these days. considering his foul attitude towards things or people that irritate him, you'd expected at least one thing to be thrown at you.

but soon enough you wiggled your way into his cold heart. (wiggled—like a worm. you once asked him if he'd still love you if you were a worm. his response was to just stare at you with a confused smile.)

the relationship blossomed pretty quickly—and so did his reputation as a "lovesick missulena around his wife".

your husband doesn't like the nickname, but since you find it hilarious he won't say anything, for now.

the kids think of you as a second mother; gwen, miles, and pav do. hobie does think of you as a suitable mother, but to him you're more of a cool aunt.

peter b often leaves mayday with you when missions call for high-risk danger. meanwhile you don't mind, she's just too cute!

miguel sometimes (always) gets peeved when all your attention is on her, he wants you to show him that kind of affection too! :‹

you do, of course, but not without a few teasing comments here and there.

"awe, you big baby."

"..."

"what? too needy to say anything?"

"...cállate tú." shut up, you.

"hm, what was that, pretty boy?"

"i said shut up!"

"oh, alright. whatever you want, mi amor." my love.

and some say miguel snuggled closer to you after that.

everyone in the spider-society overall loves you! even before becoming something to the boss man.

though, with many of the spiders being fond of you, miguel has had to fend off a lot of enamored arachnids.

he's overprotective of you. (he's already lost one loved one, he can't lose another)

most likely will not let you go on missions he deems is too dangerous. don't get me wrong, miguel knows you can handle yourself, but if a mission proves too minacious, you'll bet he's dumping that responsibility onto someone else.

since he's a workaholic, you are definitely bringing in lunch for the pair of you. because of this, you're the designated chef in your relationship. (yes, miguel does cook as well, but he's usually too swamped with work to do so)

your husband is always grateful for the lunches you bring him.

"querido? where are you?" dearest.

you wonder aloud as you swing into miguel's office. the familiar voice of your husband draws you to his platform mid air. you grin, your webs sticking on the ceiling of the room while you swing onto the platform.

there your husband is, ignorant of the happenings around him as he continues tapping on the orange screens. lyla is hovering over his shoulder, briefing him on whatever it is.

the aforementioned man turns toward you with a smile, and you feel your heart practically melt at the sight.

"mi preciosa, what are you doing here?" my precious.

"hey, estimado. i brought lunch!" dear.

miguel's smile seems to grow as you hold up two lunch boxes filled with home cooked meals, beaming from ear to ear whilst you did so.

"i thought we could eat at the cafeteria instead of this sunlight deprived vampire cave. no offense."

your husband gives a laugh, planting a kiss on the crown of your head.

"let's do just that then."

you and lyla get along really well, and by really well, it's to the point where miguel doesn't have the ai show up whenever you're around anymore.

i mean, what if lyla is speaking badly of him and you fall out of love because you've heard his deepest darkest flaws?! he wouldn't be able to handle that.

a/n: i'll definitely write more if i think of anything else!

© its-weeping — do not plagiarize or translate.

[rosewaterandivy]

c'mon barbie, let's go party

summary: steve harrington learns to embrace his kenergy with a little help from his friends.

a/n: in honor of barbenheimer today, please enjoy steve's newfound kenergy in the kids aren't alright cinematic universe. that being said, you can absolutely read this as a stand alone too! i'm seeing barbie later tonight, so mentions of the plot are vague and culled from the teasers and trailers - any and all mistakes are my own! feel free to yell at me in about this in my ask box et al. i'm at the tattoo shop for the foreseeable future and need some enrichment in my enclosure. Reblogs, feedback, and likes are appreciated - reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜

p.s. sneaky peak at eddie and his gf from my upcoming series notes on a scene 👀

steve had it all planned out - made the appointment himself and triple-checked that your schedule was clear for the day. circled it on the communal calendar in the kitchen double-feature: barbenheimer.

the group chat had been made aware and eddie's girlfriend, inexplicably known as princess, had taken it upon herself to buy tickets for the gang, therefore dictating the order in which the films would be seen (film teachers, am i right?). oppenheimer first, which steve would suffer through - historical films were always difficult for him to get through due to the anachronisms, and ending with the pièce de résistance: barbie.

you were swamped with grad school classes (having applied over the spring and started your courses this past summer) and steve wanted to treat you to something nice and relaxing. and a trip to the nail salon would have been just the thing, if not for eddie & princess crashing it.

luckily, you didn't seem to mind and were happily ensconced in your chair waiting on your nail tech. you'd brought your own color, because you're picky like that, and let steve, and then eddie and his girlfriend (out of necessity), sort through your collection too.

he'd settled on something called a midsummer's dream from that one brand you liked (there seemed to be a package from them every few weeks or so), thinking it would compliment your choice of arcade monster quite nicely; a little sweet and a little sour.

"manicure and pedicure?" the woman at the front desk had asked. steve clarified that the mani/pedi would be for the ladies, while eddie and himself would just get the pedicures. though the chipped black polish on ed's nails was becoming unsightly.

but despite doing so, steve somehow found himself moved from the pedi bath over to a nail table and seated right next to you. you looked up from your reading (Prisoners of Geography by Tim Marshall, steve's suggestion) and quirked a brow. "whatcha doin'?"

"sitting here, i guess."

you smirk, "sure thing, babe," and go back to your book.

so when a well-meaning woman grabs his hand and places it in a bowl of water while asking about his color choice, he doesn't know how to respond. he could've sworn he just said a pedicure for him and eds, but when he looks down the row and finds eddie in rapt conversation with his nail tech about god knows what as she removes his chipped black polish, he's no longer quite as sure.

"psst."

he looks over to you, seeing an ill-attempt to repress your laughter. "you don't have to get a polish if you don't want to." and it's sweet, you're sweet for thinking of him and his comfort when this was supposed to be all about you and yours.

steve shrugs, "might as well at this point," and hands her the bottle of pinky-blue iridescent polish.

you tuck your chin toward your chest with a grin, teeth flashing bright against the pink of your lips. "a very nice use of kenergy, steve. gosling would be proud."

💅💅💅

your nails flash green-gold in the sun, a nice contrast against the magenta base polish. you’re sipping from a s’mores milkshake from the ice cream parlor after the nail appointment, eddie having spied it a few stores down.

("it's too hot to argue, harrington," eddie groused, but not before grabbing steve's hands to examine his manicure. "dude, that color is sick on you!")

“s’nice color honey,” steve says, pausing to drink from the milkshake when you passed it over to him. the cool blend of chocolate and marshmallows with graham cracker chunks hits his tongue as you send a deilvish wink his way.

“thanks baby,” your tongue glides against the full of your bottom lip, collecting a bit of chocolate. checking to see that eddie and princess are out of earshot, you pull him in by the belt loops.

“think they’ll look as nice wrapped around your cock later?” you rasp, voice dropping to a low whisper.

steve shudders at the husky sound of your voice and nearly chokes on the milkshake in response, flustered and blushing. your laughter rings out in the afternoon heat, as bright as the sun shining above.

you kiss him for good measure, lips cool and sweet, before catching up to eddie and his girlfriend a few paces ahead. and all steve can do is watch after you, struck dumb by his girl with her quick tongue and wicked words.

he gets it later that evening seeing barbie when they say: “she’s barbie, and he’s just ken.”

you did not tell a lie when you said to princess all those months ago, that ken would end up being steve’s ‘literally me’ character. truthfully, he’s just glad to end up with his dreamgirl.

and yeah, your nails looked just as pretty later that night. as did his when you fell apart on his fingers. a flash of blue in the dim light when his hands dug into the soft flesh of your hips— you coming with a ragged cry on his cock, face buried against the pillows of your bed.

steve may be “just ken” but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. not when he’s got a barbie like you.

[tonberry-yoda]

Take a Break - Asra

notes - IM BACK FROM THE DEAD AND WITH A FIC?!?!?! Hi guys! <3 I've been in a bit of a block feeling like my writing is meh, but I wanted to pump this out to get out of said block. I'm finally on a short break for school, but I'll be working then, but now, I had time to write and wanted to give you all something, even if it's short and sweet. I also wanted to thank you all for the support even as I've been on my hiatus. I nearly have 200 followers, and I just can't thank everyone enough for being so loving! Sorry this note was kinda long, but I really want you all to know how much I love you <3 word count - 941

“Hi Asra.” You smile, giving the boy goo-goo eyes as he walks into the shop that the two of you owned.

“Hello, y/n.” he says, not once looking at you. He was too busy looking down at a list of some sort to notice you staring at him while you stood behind the counter.

“Busy?” you asked.

“Mhm.” was all he let out before walking up to his office.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. Another busy day that clouded both you and Asra. You were used to it by now, but a break sounded nice every once in a while. So instead of that break, you played with a bottle full of tea leaves that you were proud to say you made yourself. You didn't hate your job, if anything, you loved it more than any job you’ve had before. The problem was Asra. He looked constantly stressed and beyond tired. You hated that he was starting to look like he was the one who hated his job. He had so much passion years ago, but now he just looked swamped.

“Good evening, y/n!” you heard a familiar voice say as the bell rang above the door. Your ears perked up and a smile spread across your face as you saw one of your regular customers walk in.

“Evening, Mr. Bennet! How are you?” You set down the little bottle and walked over to the man, shaking his hand.

“Fine, fine,” he said. “Busy as always. You?” He hung his coat on a rack next to the door and started browsing.

“I'm all right,” you admitted. “Bout to close up shop, so that’s nice.”

“I won't be too long.” He looked at some of the tea you had made, carefully reading the instructions. “Where’s Asra, if you don't mind me asking?”

“Oh, he's upstairs. Probably working as always.” You rested your cheek on your hand.

“Go figure. Poor man needs to catch a break.”

“Tell me about it.” you chuckled.

“Well, when you see him again,” Mr. Bennet said, walking to the counter with a box of tea leaves. “Tell him that he has to get that break, for me, of course.”

You laughed and took the money from the man, locking the door behind him as he left.

“Was that Mr. Bennet?” you heard Asra ask, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Yeah,” you said nonchalantly as you began to clean up for the night. “He just got some tea, that’s all.”

“Dammit,” Asra groaned, leaning against the wall. “I had to ask him something.”

“You know he’ll be back. He’s in here all the time. Plus, he told me to tell you to take a damn break.”

Asra ran his fingers through his white hair while his other hand clutched some tarot cards. “You know I can't do that.” he sighed.

“Whatever you say.” You finished sweeping up the rest of the shop and walked past Asra.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To my room. To take a break.” So, you did. You walked straight to your room and laid on your bed. It was soft, as always, and all of your stuffed animals gave you soft smiles.

Through your window, you could see the moon peeking over some mountains behind the town and a smile spread across your face. You quickly jumped out of bed to open your window to bring in some cool night air. It smelled fresh. You saw crows fly overhead and could see the lights from the rest of the village turning on as the night market began overflowing with people. You’ve been needing this relaxation for weeks, and finally, it was a weekend where you had time for it.

At your door, you heard Asra clear his throat. When you turned around, he had Faust wrapped around his bicep and the tarot cards were still in his hand.

“Need something?” you asked.

“Not really.” he said quietly.

“You look tired.” Your voice was softer than his.

Asra chuckled. “I am tired.”

“Then take a break. Please.”

Faust slid her way off of Asra’s arm and slid over to you. You picked her up and she wrapped herself around your wrist. “Break!” she said to Asra.

“There’s so much to do before the weekend is over though.” Asra sighed and leaned against the frame of your door.

“Like what?” you asked.

He thought for a minute. You assumed that he was going to try to make some excuse to keep himself busy. There were probably things he had to do over the weekend, but you also knew that Asra was the kind of guy who always felt the need to be productive.

You walked over to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Asra, I'm serious, you need a break. Those eyebags don't look good on you.” You ran your thumb underneath his eye over the dark spots there.

He softened to your touch, leaning his cheek on your warm hand. “What if everything falls apart because of me?” he asked.

“I think you’re just making excuses.” you giggled.

He took your hand in his own and smiled softly at you. Faust, you noticed, had disappeared, but you didn't mind, especially when you just saw her curling up in a little cage you had made for her.

“Do you want some hot cocoa?” you asked Asra as he took a seat on your bed.

“That would be wonderful, y/n, thank you.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead and pushed him so that he was laying down. “I'll be right back.” You winked.

~~~~~

the arcana masterlist | pinned post | ko-fi

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[zombeebunnie]

Trembling Essence:💙Script progress + Updates💙

Hello and welcome new followers, long time no see! I was very busy most of this month, but I am back and ready to continue from where I left off on the game! This game development post might be a bit long but I tried to condense everything! :]

"How are things going so far?":

It's going slow and steady! I haven't been able to do too much these past few weeks, however, I wrote a few parts out before I got too busy and couldn't do anything else.

I want to be very careful when it comes to spoilers but, based on your choices, some of these areas will give off immersive cozy/homelike vibes that really express Noah and the player(Y/N)'s view towards each other. In the old 2023 script I was very new to writing so the small semi-hints of romance weren't the entire focus compared to the horror aspect but there's a better balance between both genres now and I'm still aiming for a meaningful slow burn versus it just being all over the place. :] I liked writing them a whole bunch which lead to a lot of these taking place in the mid/end of Day 4+, they just need to be placed in specific areas that call for it. With that being said, it felt really comfy adding key details about Noah and creating meaningful sections in the game. I was even going to draw out some of the unseen script/scenes but I believe the best thing to do is give deeper lore from the [Extended Demo] first. Even though my writing style has improved I still have to fix the multiple pacing issues I wrote last year.

"Playtester's advice":

I wanted to continue working through Noah's backstory but I kept having moments where I'd get sidetracked into wanting to fix up the start of the game again. Eventually, I talked to my play testers about it and they gave me a few encouraging pointers.

To help keep my process at ease, I will fix the beginning of the game when I take breaks from writing up Noah's backstory. :]

I talked about this during early 2024 but the start of the game that leads up to the cabin is still getting reworked. I was able to get some of it fixed for the [Extended Demo] but I wasn't done. Things are still up in the air but, I will say that I have a better view of everything than I did before. :] Another priority that needs fixing are the backgrounds! I've improved a lot on drawing and they need to be optimized. When you first start up the game, you wake up in a holed out tree in the swamp with the choice to leave this area and possibly end up in the forest. I was going for a very immersive form of symbolism that only a few noticed but, I believe I can do a better job about this. Unfortunately I don't have any new backgrounds to show right now but maybe next week I'll have some finished up! :]

"Art process/Noah's sprite sheets":

As far as Noah sprite sheet goes, it's still in sketch mode.

I didn't draw anything since I was gone so I need to do a few warm ups before I get to them. There are some old drawing prompts I wrote down and old sketches that I never got a chance to doodle so hopefully I can get to them at some point with some attached lore. :,]

My Q&A / Ask box has been reset!

Thank you to those who have sent in asks in the past, unfortunately they all disappeared except for 1 while I was gone. I have no idea what happened but I can only guess it just got reset.

If you have any questions about Trembling Essence/Noah feel free to ask or resend them in here please. This makes it easier for me to see and answer accordingly! I would really like to hear from you guys!

This is all I have to share so far, Thank you to everyone for the continued support and patience while I was gone! I was ready to accept the interest for this game to fade out and coming back to see that it didn't happen makes me happy, I really appreciate it. :,]

[miko32]

Born into the Seven Ruler's of Devildom

I was isekai'd to a world in a book. The title was "Kristin in the Harem of the Seven Demon Lords." Like its title, a human named Kristin was brought to Devildom against her will and had to survive through the temptation of the seven demon lords, who were brothers and avatars of the seven sins.

The seventh brother, Belphegor, the Avatar of Sloth.

The sixth brother, Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony.

The fifth brother, Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust.

The fourth brother, Satan, the Avatar of Wrath.

The third brother, Leviathan, the Avatar of Envy.

The second brother, Mammon, the Avatar of Greed.

The first brother, Lucifer, the fallen angel, the Avatar of Pride. My father. The one who succeeded in seducing the human Kristin and impregnating her.

I was in shambles with the ending. Lucifer had kicked Kristin out, banished to the swamp and died giving birth. The baby survived and was named Leilel by Kristin, and that baby is me.

I'm Leilel Morningstar, the child of Lucifer Morningstar.

CHAPTER LIST

1, 2, 3, 4, 5,

TAG LIST (If anyone wants to be tag, just comment and tell me what you think, I will love to hear your opinion 🤗)

@f0uerleafedcl0ver , @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

Chapter 6 --- I'm still in Hell

Three days later, the students of RAD are in an uproar. Every demon has the newest newspaper. The front page is loudly written:

"MEPHISTOPHELES, THE TRUE LOYAL LORD TO THE CROWN OF DEVILDOM, DIAVOLO, CERBERUS BREEDING IS SHUT DOWN!"

I stared at the title with bored eyes. So loudmouthed. Then I read the columns.

The Cerberus Breeding. An operation built by the Demon Lord, Jezelbub, who rebelled against the crown Prince of Devildom, Lord Diavolo. For almost a decade, this operation had been going on under the noses of Lord Diavolo's reign. Entrusted to the Seven Demon Brothers, who had no result at all....

I snorted at that. It's obvious Mephistopheles is mocking the demon brothers.

The demon brothers had only found small clues, a clean scene, unreliable eyewitnesses, yet thousands of hell dog homeowners still went missing due to the operation.

Now, homeowners' pets may rejoice thanks to the greatness and true demon from the House of Lords, Mephistopheles.

"IS SHUT DOWN!" shouted from the picture of Mephistopheles in front of the warehouse.

"Hm," I mumbled, feeling a little satisfied that Mephistopheles' hatred toward the Demon Brothers ran so deep that he wrote about them being deemed as useless. I smirked, then neatly folded the paper and carefully put it in my satchel, making my way to the colosseum for Mephistopheles' award.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"GIVE IT UP FOR MEPHISTOPHELES!!!"

I covered my ears, laughed, and clapped my hands with the other students as they cheered and chanted Mephisto's name as he ascended the stage. Pride evident in his steps and a big smile adorning his face, he laughed and waved at the crowd. Diavolo accompanied him, shaking his hands, while flying cameras with bat wings captured their photo.

"Demons of Devildom, may I present," Diavolo gestured to Barbatos, who was carrying a big red box. It opened to reveal a golden crown of thorns. "The Bright Thorn of Devildom!"

The crowd gasped in awe at the magnificent crown and clapped their hands. I too was amazed. The crown was only bestowed upon the most devoted demons who had contributed to the Crown Heir of Devildom's works. I don't know if the Seven Brothers had ever receive this. Did they?

Wow. Just my information could lead Mephisto to receive this? I need to ask for more favors from him.

Diavolo then crowned Mephistopheles. He thanked his Lordship, and Diavolo allowed him to take the podium for his speech. The crowd cheered as Mephistopheles did.

Mephisto raised his hand to silence the crowd. "Now, all students of RAD, I could not be credited for all of this," Mephisto said. "For it is the loyalty of our Crown Prince, Lord Diavolo, that has pushed me to the limit. As such..."

Mephisto continued, bragging about his loyalty, all for the glory of Lord Diavolo. I shook my head. The book talked about Mephisto being absolutely in awe of Diavolo. Seeing him in real life on stage, green eyes sparkling with admiration, like a kid looking up to his idol. It's kind of cute.

...

What the... What am I thinking? I shook my head. Maybe because the adult mind inside me. I may be thirteen, but added with my first life, I should've been thirty years old at least. So I'm way much older on the inside. I huff through my nose.

No Leilel, not with a demon. Never with a-

Suddenly, my body shivered in a different sense. I look up and my eyes caught the demon at the far corner of the stage, Lucifer. His deep red eyes bore into me.

It's like an arrow shoot right into my chest. I held my breath in fear, feeling like a predator being cornered by its prey. Lucifer red eyes look deep into my soul, sucking all the life in me. I clench my fist at my side and move away, slowly. Away from his peering gaze and turned back. I sneaked out from the crowd, exiting the colosseum.

I didn't feel his stare again, but maybe that's just wishful thinking.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

I decided to hide in Mephistopheles' office. I'm sure he won't mind. We still had some business to do. Like changing my shackle. My wrist felt heavy and felt like being cut off. Mephistopheles has to change the term on the seal he put on my wrist. Soon, it'll be a protection spell.

I was almost fell asleep on the expensive vintage couch, when the door of the office bursts open. 

"Forgive me, fellas, I have business to take care of." Mephisto says to the demons who had come to admire him. He must have noticed me and kept the door ajar to hide me. 

"Aww, Mephisto, another work to do?"

"You’ve solved one of the highest operations, and you're still gonna work?"

"Celebrate, man!"

"I’m sorry, it's just this one deal I had to take care of. Goodbye!" Mephisto slams the door. He sighs and turns at me with a smile. "Now, where were we?" he stride around the room and takes a seat across from me. Unlike the other day, his smile is genuine, like a salesman to his biggest client. His eyes lit up. "Oh! I forgot! I should offer my guest a beverage!"

He starts to stand when I stop him. "No need, let's discuss our deal first."

Mephistopheles stop and sighs as he sits back. He doesn’t seem to like this. Well, he was cocky enough to accuse me of being one of the rebels. Mephistopheles leans forward, hands folded over his lap, and say the demon's magic word. "Well, what do you desire, Lami?"

I bit my lower lips, remembering Lucifer's red eyes at the colosseum "First of all, did you tell Lucifer about me?"

"Wha-no!" Mephisto huffs, leaning back on his coach. "I kept my promise!" I glower at him. Mephistopheles pursed his lips and asks, "Still, I wonder, why wouldn’t you take any credit for this?"

"Because that’s where our deal will be." I answer and lean forward. "I want your support and protection from any demons in this school who would bother my school life, and that includes the seven lords."

Mephistopheles' eyes widen, and he strokes his chin in thought. "The other demons, I get that. But why the seven lords?"

I almost rolled my eyes. Still suspicious, huh? I can't tell him that I'm Lucifer's daughter that he might put me through torture and kill me. Guess I have to pull out my trump card. "Let’s just say I don’t have any faith in any of the former angels who call themselves demons."

Mephistopheles whole body flinch in surprised. He blinks, and suddenly laughs. "Aha ha! Is that so? Well," Mephistopheles chuckled, hand over his chin. "We have the same thought, Lami."

No, we don’t. I just know that from the book. I smile back. "Oh, we do?" Mephistopheles nods, leaning on his hand as he gives me a smile. It felt, genuine and cute. I cough. "Anyway, I will only need your protection until I can get into the exchange program."

"The exchange program?"

"Yes, I plan to go to the human world, to tempt humans. It has been my dream since I was a little girl."

"Ugh, such a common dream for demons," Mephisto mumbles.

I ignored his comment. "So, do we have a deal?"

Mephisto smiles at me and again pulls out his gloves, offering his right hand. "It's a deal."

Once we shake hands, the seal on my wrist glows, changing our contract. He lets go to let me look at my wrist with the newest seal. My protection, my promises of the future. Now, I’ll just wait for time to go by. Then I’ll be in my real world, the human world.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

That night,

"Give me my money back, scumbag Mammon!!!"

"Why don't ya just shake me, maybe I'll rain money from my pants!"

The avatar of envy did so, shaking the second-born with all his might. Mammon shouted at his brother to stop. They both continued to shake each other off.

There was a meeting between the demon lords in the council room of RAD. All six demons were seated together at the round table. Satan read his book despite his rowdy brothers. Asmodeus hummed while looking at himself in the mirror. Belphegor slept on the table while his twin brother Beelzebub chewing candy.

Then, the first-born stepped in, Lucifer. Mammon and Levi, who were still bickering with each other. Two fists smacked on top of their heads.

"Ow!"

"Hey! What's the big idea?!"

They both flinched under Lucifer's red eyes. "Be quiet!" He commanded and sat in the middle. "The meeting starts."

Satan was the first to speak.

“I have collected the necessary curses for the demons responsible for the Cerberus Breeds. All the most torturous curses, even the deadliest ones." Satan let out sinister laughs.

"Hold your horses, Satan," Asmo hummed to his brother.

Beel raised his hand. "Lucifer, what will happen to the dogs that were used?"

"Diavolo has decided to keep the dogs and treat them. I had Levi find some professional demons to handle this," Lucifer replied, turning to the third-born.

"Oh, oh yeah, here," Levi handed Lucifer the papers. The first-born looked through the papers and then back to his brothers.

They continued discussing shutting down the operation. The talk between them smoothed down into a debate about how Mephistopheles found the first base operation.

"I mean, the guy could have just happened to come across it," Mammon said.

"Are you really that much of an idiot?"

"LOL, LOL," Levi exclaim, typing to his D.D.D. "Mammon said. "Mephisto finding it was a 'coincidence,' so stupid! And tweet!"

"Oi! Why do you have to tweet that?!"

"Levi, you're not supposed to tweet our meeting,"

"That's what worries you?!"

BANG!

The demon brothers turned to the door, where two human exchange students stood.

"Hi, everyone~~" Carina greeted. The other human, a plain boy with glasses and pale skin, lifted his hand.

"Hi, sorry to bother you,"

Lucifer groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What are you two doing here?"

The boy frightened as he hid behind Barbatos who escorted the two humans. Barbatos explain. "Forgive our interruption, but Carina refused to go home until the brothers are done."

"I-I..." the boy stuttered. "Didn't want..."

"Awww~ Mathieu, are you gonna keep hiding behind Barbatos?" Asmo stood, leaning over the table with a mischievous smile. "He's also a demon too, you know?"

Mathieu shrieked and jumped away from Barbatos. Barbatos only smiled.

Lucifer's eyebrow stress became more evident. "Aren't you responsible for tonight's dinner, Carina? Don't be selfish and go home."

"Awww... I can't just leave you all behind~~" Carina pouted, putting on her puppy eyes. But none of the demon brothers swayed, giving Carina a dead look. Mathieu gulped down his throat, Carina blinked at the brothers, confused by their response.

"Why don't you all have a meal here?" Barbatos suggested. "It has already passed dinner," He checked his watch. "There may be leftover from the cafeteria. I shall fetch some food from there."

"Oh yeah!"

"You're the demon, Barbatos!"

"Bring back at least a hundred dishes, please."

"We are quite famished, thank you very much, Barbatos."

Barbatos nodded and was about to close the door when Carina stopped him. "Tha-thank you so much, Barbatos." She had a shy smile, blushing cheek, fiddling with her fingers.

Barbatos stared at her, and gave his cold-butler smile. "Of course," He closed the door a bit hard in her face. Carina gasped, offended, and stomped her foot.

She looked over at the brothers. Now Mathieu was in the center of attention. The demons were asking Mathieu's opinion on how Mephistopheles found the warehouse.

"I-I-I mean," Mathieu stuttered, fixing his glasses. "Meph-Mephisto? Could've... found the spell? (Was it a spell) That mirrors are the hideaway (somehow), that-that's how he found it, right?"

Satan nodded. "Okay, but... How did he find the right spot where the mirror is?"

Mathieu shrugged. "I-I-I really don't know, why not, ask him?"

"Hah!" Belphegor exclaimed, startling Mathieu. Belphie's expression was bored as he leaned on his hand. "That guy has loose lips, but when it comes to this, he was very secretive,"

"Yeah, even to Lord Diavolo." Beel said. "It was very surprising,"

"What if it wasn't him?" The brothers stopped and turned to Lucifer, who stated his opinion. "I suspect that he was helped by another demon."

Satan scoffed. "Aha! Are you going to be suspicious of him every time he does something good for Diavolo?"

"What is that supposed to mean, Satan?"

"You know what I meant. You don't like that Mephisto solved this and not you."

"Actually," the brothers turned to the voice belongs to Carina. "Three days ago, I did see a particular demon walk into his office a day before Mephistopheles busted the warehouse."

"Huh?"

"What did she say?"

"Stupid Mammon, are you deaf now?"

"Hey!"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, pondering Carina's words. "Who is this demon?" he asked, almost commanding.

Carina looked surprised, hand over her mouth. "Lami, that new demon. I wanted to be her friend, so I followed her. That's when I saw her went into Mephistopheles's office." Carina gasped and changed her tone to dismissive. "Ah, but, this is just a theory, she could've just wanted to join the newspaper RAD, right?"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. If the demon swamp wanted to join, Mephistopheles would never consider it. He wouldn't even let any lower demons step into his office. Lucifer turned to the second-born. "Mammon, you are in the same class as her, yes?"

Mammon looked sideways. "Uuuh, yeah?"

"Keep an eye on her."

"Huh? Why me?!"

"Idiot, you're in the same class as her." Lucifer exhaled. "It is best to keep an eye on new demons; we never know whether they are loyal to Lord Diavolo or not."

Mammon pout, grumbling under his breath. "I don't like her!"

"Huh? First week, and you already don't like her?" Asmo chuckled, eyes flirting. "Fufufu, what did she do, is it scandalous?

Mammon glared disgust at Asmo, then looked at Mathieu and Carina. Mammon slump down into his chair and whispering. "Because she is supposed to be the new demon, not her."

The brothers were quiet in the room. Mathieu could feel the change and remained still like a rock. Carina scrunched her eyebrow in confusion.

"Mammon." Leviathan leaned forward. "You know that we're still looking for her,"

"And we will not stop looking for her," Lucifer said the final word. The brothers humm agree. Leaving Mathieu and Carina out of the circle. One of them is very upset.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The moon is at its lowest peak as I walk back to my dorm room at ten pm. Ten!

"Urgh!!!" I grumble under my breath. That history teacher is so petty, putting me in detention for a week! A week! Petty demons! They're the worst kinds of creatures. I hate, hate, hate them!

My eyes spot a 666 leaf clover. The green color reminds me of Green Blops. If he were here, seeing me angry, he would've faced me, with his arms crossed and looking at me.

I sigh and begin my ritual. Take a deep breath and let go. I did it again.

When I was a child, I had my moments of tantrum. Even with a mind of an adult, you can still get mad like a child. I refused to eat anything the Blops gave me, which made Red so sad. I was violent with Yellow and Orange, I didn't see they were hurt. I was pushy and annoyed with Green and Purple. I rejected everything nice Pink gave me. Until it hit the limit when Blue was scolding me, I shouted at him that I hate him because he's a demon.

I remember Blue's face when I said that. He was shocked, really shocked. When I thought he was gonna punish me, his face got neutral, no smile, no scowl, nor glare, nothing. Instead, he turned his back away and ignored me. I was surprised but decided to ignore him too. It went on for a week, with all the six Blops following after Blue. They still gave me food, bath, and clothed me. But there were no kisses and hugs, the Blops wouldn't play with me, they wouldn’t talk with me. They just left me alone. On the seventh day of the week, I cried so loud, asking for forgiveness.

Of course, the Blops quickly forgave me. There were kisses and hugs and how awful it was for the Blops to hold back. Blue told that every Blop understands. The shout, the violence, and the hate towards demons are just anger I kept inside for Lucifer.

So I told the Blops everything. From the memory when I was a human, to be reborn as Lucifer’s daughter, and asking why am I put into this situation. There are so many humans in the world, and I was the one who isekai into an awful unfortunate character.

The Blops didn’t understand, but they still love me the same. In fact, they love me more than ever. So did I.

Green then taught me how to meditate, to control my anger, and not to bottle everything in me. The Blops told me to tell them everything that is in my heart. And I always did, and the Blops always comfort me.

I open my eyes, feeling a bit relieved. I decided to let the teacher have it my way. It doesn’t matter if I had a week detention. On weekends, I’ll be back in my cabin with my Blops, talking bad things about Miss Vile.

Ufufu. I’ve already imagined Pink and Yellow when we gossip.

I had a smile as I walked in the dorm building. I reached my room with a hum and placed my hand on the doorknob.

BANG!

"Hello, little demon~"

Someone grabbed my mouth and slammed me against the doors. My eyes widened as I recognized who it was. It was the same demon who walked me to my room on the first day. My body froze.

"Ahahah, it's so easy to munch little demons like yourself," the demon licked his lips with a twisted smile and lustful eyes. I shivered in fear, my mind went blank. "Already excited, heh? How about we do it in your room?"

His words snapped me out of my entrance, and I struggled. He strengthened his holds, nails digging into the skin of my shoulder. I scream under his palm.

"Stop struggling, you bitch!"

I panicked and grabbed his arm holding my mouth. Then I saw. A purple glow flashed before us.

“Argh! What is this??!”

He let me go. I felt power surging through from Mephisto’s mark on my wrist. Like an ocean wave, the surge power pushed the demon far away to the end of the hallway into a window that was suddenly open by itself, and he went flying.

I watched as he faded away. His scream became distand. I gasped for breath and went fumbling with my keys to open my bedroom door and crawled inside. I closed the door with my back. It took forever with my trembling fingers to lock the door, twice. Then, I screamed and cried on my knees. I didn't care if any demons heard me. Hell, they might have heard and wouldn't care a thing.

Thoughts flooded in of what could've happened. That demon was really going to molest me. I could've-

I felt my stomach churn, and I threw up on the floor. All the contents from my stomach was emptied. When it was over, I stared at the leftover food I had this evening. Then I cried and lay beside my own retch. I didn't care about the smell. I only wanted my trembling body to subside.

This was a reminder that I was still in hell.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The next morning arrived, and I felt terrible. I had a headache, stomach cramps, and was in a completely rock bottom mood. I really didn’t want to go to school, but I had to since it's still the first week. I couldn’t afford another bad rap with a teacher. In fact, they might use this to bully me. Mocking my background. I really had enough.

Fortunately, no demons were talking about last night. They might not even care or might be too busy discussing Mephistopheles' success and the exchange program. Lucky me.

All day, I kept my head down and stayed alert, hoping I wouldn't pass by that demon from last night. There’s no way he would let go of what happened. In fact, he must've planned something to torture me. Maybe giving me a cursed object? Hypnotizing me, drugging me—anything could happen!

I felt like throwing up again, but I held on with my hand over my mouth. I hadn't eaten anything this morning, but my stomach felt sick, like when you ride a roller coaster after eating.

Half the day had gone by, and it was lunchtime. I was walking in the hallway between students toward the cafeteria.

"Agh!" I felt my cape being pulled back. My foot almost lost its balance, and I looked over my shoulder, my body freezing.

"What are you doing?" Mammon asked with a smirk, as if he had caught me stealing a cookie jar.

"I... wha!" I yelped. Mammon pulled me forward by my red cape. "Hey!!!" I protested as I tried to keep my feet on the ground. Then I felt someone grab my arm.

“Mammon! Don’t pull her like that!” Carina protested, pulling me toward her. I leaned backward while Mammon still grabbed my cape. My posture probably looked stupid, as all the students were watching us.

“Argh! Shut up, human!” Mammon pulled my cape again.

I grabbed my cape, begging him. "Wh-what do you want from me?!"

Mammon frowned, looking at me as if I’m stupid. My heart twisted with fear. If Mammon had figured me out, this might be why he's bothering me right now – he's going to act all obsessed with me. My brain imagined all the possible ways this could go.

"Wait! Please, just," I stuttered, frantically looking around the hallway for an escape. "Please, let me go," I pleaded, holding back tears. Mammon tilted his head.

“Mammon, come on, don’t pull the poor little girl,” Carina said.

I glanced at her smiling at me. She reminds me of Kristin. Even in hell, she still tries to be nice to everyone. To a demon. I gulped down my throat. Both of us are poor, unfortunate souls. Doomed for a lifetime of torture from the demons here in Devildom. But unlike Carina, I’m going to survive. I’m going to survive from this dem-!

Mammon released my cape. I gasped as I was released. Mammon stared at us, hand on his hips. I took a deep breath and tried to think of an escape. If I ran, Mammon would catch me for sure.

"Let's go, I'm hungry!" Mammon exclaimed and walked away.

“Come on, Lami!” Carina still grabbing my arm, pulling me forward. My body is still completely stiff from the shock and I just followed. But, if there is a slight opening, I’ll run like hell.

[catre33]

the myth of Perseus

So basically, this man Acrisius -- who's arguably the king of Argolis -- only has one daughter. No sons. And he's freaking out, so he goes to this oracle like 'how tf am I gonna get a male heir?!'. The oracle doesn't really help, he's kindof a Debby Downer. He says that Acrisius will have no sons, and that his grandson will kill him. Acrisius is freaking out more, and he tries to prevent this by locking up his only daughter Danae. But no brazen doors can stop Zeus when he's horny, so BOOM. Perseus is born.

Thus, Acrisius is just not having a good life. He doesn't believe that it was Zeus who got his daughter pregnant, he thinks it's his twin brother, the one who had it out for Danae before. And he doesn't want to kill his daughter, who would do that? So (and this is the part Sally talks about) he locks her up AGAIN in a wooden chest/ark/whatever and yeets her into the sea.

The box floats toward Seriphos, and Dictys, a fisherman, nets it. He opens it to find Danae and Perseus both still alive and he wheels them off to the king. So Perseus is raised in a royal household.

But not really a very good household.

See, the king is after Danae since the moment she arrives. His name is Polydectes, and unfortunately, he has the support of his subjects in pursuing Danae. Finally, Perseus is old enough to step in and protects his mom from the king.

The king gets plotting. Polydectes calls up all his friends and they all pretend he's gonna ask some other girl (Hippodameia, daughter of Pelops) to marry him. So he's going around the whole island asking everyone to contribute to his love-gift. He finally comes around to Perseus and asks him for a horse.

Perseus is like, 'Dude, I don't have a horse nor the means to get one. But, uh, since you're not trying to marry my mom anymore I can try to get you anything else. Even Medusa's head.'

Polydectes is like 'Yass, he'll die trying and then I can get his mom. I MEAN THat would please me greatly.'

So Perseus is off to go kill Medusa.

Athena hears what's going on and helps him out, then Hermes does the same.

But Perseus isn't ready yet, he's gotta get better equipped. He still needs winged sandals, something to carry the head in, and Hades' invisibility helmet. (aka the introvert hat) All three of these things are in the care of the Stygian nymphs, but no one knows where they live. Except the Graea (the Gray Sisters).

So he finds them at the foot of Atlas’ mountain and steals their tooth and eye, forcing them to tell him. Once he’s got all the stuff he drops the tooth and eye in the ocean for them to get.

He finds the swamp the gorgons live in, and all three are sleeping; Medusa, Stheno, and Euryale. So he backs in using the reflection in his shield, Athena guides his hand, and off comes her head. Out pop Chrysaor and Pegasus! Fully grown! And armed! Weird way to be born. Perseus runs off before the new dudes can wake their aunties to go chase after him, so he escapes.

Now, he’s on his way back towards Seriphos. While traveling he sees this lady chained to a seacliff and falls in love with her. As he’s flying over (using the winged sandals) he sees the girls’ parents: Cassiopeia and Cepheus. That’s right, here’s Andromeda!

He asks what’s going on and they both explain that an oracle told them that sacrificing Andromeda to this sea monster was the only way to keep from being attacked and flooded by said sea monster.So he goes, ‘Hang on, I can get rid of the sea monster. If I do, can I marry Andromeda?’

And her parents are like ‘Uhm, suuuuurreeeee… haha….’

So he goes and kills the sea monster, slicing its head off.

The wedding is to happen immediately so he can continue on his travels, but in bursts this completely random dude, Agenor. Cassipeia shouts that Perseus must die. Turns out, Andromeda’s parents had already promised Agenor HE could marry her. But Andromeda is sticking by Perseus.

Perseus fights off as many soldiers as he can with his sword, and then he just petrifies the rest of them.

AND OFF THEY GO.

So he’s flying back to Seriphos with his new wife in tow. He lands, and he calls for Polydectes like ‘ay I got your gift.’ Polydectes is confuzzled and PISSED. He’s like ‘Umm I don’t BELIEVE YOU show me.’ Perseus is a little worried he says ‘well, uh, are you sure???’ ‘YEA YEA JUST SHOW ME’ aaaaand Polydectes and his entire court end up petrified.

And they all live okay for a while the end. 

My point in this is the fact that Perseus used Medusa’s head to save both his mom and his love. Sound familiar???

[thebisexualdogdad]

Could you plz do headcanons with Hellblazer!Reader x Donna Troy?

Donna troy x Male!reader

● you have known Donna for a decade first meeting back when you were 18

● the justice league dark which you had recently joined were asked to aid the justice league in fighting doomsday

● Dick had written you off but Donna fully believed in your magic

● Dick "really Donna? You're falling for this mumbo jumbo?" He says as they watch you create a potion made of outlandish ingredients Dick had never heard of

● Donna "the Amazon's history is rooted in God's and goddesses, occultism is not too far out of the box"

● sure you two met up every so often to hook up but with the amount of traveling around you both did you decided it was best not to commit to a relationship and ruin the good thing you had

● but then years later she's settled down in San Francisco with the titans so you found a way to make your own pocket dimension headquarters to allow you to move to San Francisco to be with her while still having 24/7 access to the other JLD members when needed

● Donna is the only one on the titans who is allowed to have a key to this pocket dimension

● and Gar and Connor have been banned from even stepping inside after setting off a magical windstorm in your library while messing around with some of your ancient artifacts

● well Kori has been trusted with another key in case of an emergency but no one except you and Donna know that

● Donna walking in on you doing a spell fully naked

● "see something you like love?" You say with a grin

● "Y/N please put some clothes on, the titans need your help"

● you become a mentor of sorts to Rachel teaching her about the supernatural and how to control her powers

● she's also not allowed to take any of your spell/ritual books out of the library because once again Gar and Connor were messing around and accidentally summoned a demon in the titans tower

● Donna and Zatanna are super close

● Zatanna tells Donna so many embarrassing stories about you

● and all the magical mishaps she's witnessed you make

● being the only girl in the JLD Zatanna also likes having other women around

● Zatanna "you think Gar smells bad when he shapeshifts? You don't even want to know the smells that come off of Alec when he returns from the swamp"

● giving Donna your trench coat when it's cold out

● "you know there is something that will warm you up" you say suggestively

● Donna leans in like she's going to kiss you but instead whispers "tequila?"

● Donna pulling you in by your tie to actually kiss you

● and flirting with her at the most inappropriate times during missions

● Jason "does he ever shut up?"

● Jason still hasn't forgiven you for the time you turned him into a rabbit

● in your defense it was Kent's idea after the two of them were arguing because Jason was trying to sneakily put his Dr Fate helmet on despite being warned not to several times

● Jason "it's just a stupid helmet what's the big deal"

● "kid that helmet is one of the most powerful artifacts in the world not even I could handle wearing it, you certainly wouldn't be able to"

● Bobo argues a lot with Dick on who is a greater detective, him or Bruce

● Bobo "Richard, I am a member of mensa"

● Dick "yeah but you're a monkey!"

● Bobo "a chimpanzee actually and batman is the one who comes to me for help not the other way around"

● "he's got a point Dick"

● Dick "not now Y/N!"

● when Donna died you and Rachel stopped at nothing to get her back

● Kent told you it would be impossible to resurrect her but she was the love of your life, you would either get her back or die trying

● when you do finally get her back the two of you decide to put superheroing behind for a bit and travel the world together

● a year later Kori gets a call that you proposed in Paris and that Donna would need her help planning the wedding

[hazbintrashbin]

“I’ve got a little SQUISH on you!” (Aroace/AAspec ft. RadioRose (Alastor x Rosie) Pt. II

When did they realize they had a 🦑 squish 🦑??:

Part I 🌹 | Part II 📻

Alastor 📻:

📻 You could pull every tooth from its bed, tearing the nerves from its nestled dens within the depths of his gums...

📻 But you could never, ever get Alastor --

📻 The ever-elusive yet dangerously strong Radio Demon himself --

📻 To admit his woes.

📻 They will always and forever remain in his back pocket. Better yet, it'll remain in the little tin cookie container, tucked among all of the bobbins of thread and needles and scraps of fabric, hidden beneath the cluster of shoes and clothes and miscellaneous items in Alastor's large, dark closet.

📻 It was an early morning in Hell. About four in the morning.

📻 Alastor ambles across the swamp, wearing nothing but a loose cotton shirt and simple pants, a long rifle strapped across his back. On his shoulder, he hauls a limp hog.

📻 "Oh, a pitiful creature you are!" Alastor says as he approaches the end of the swampland. There, his dining table awaits this fresh lump of meat. Tossing it onto the table, Alastor doesn't bother to change apart from poofing himself a clean cotton shirt.

📻 "But how delicious you'll be!" Alastor sits, grabbing a nearby fancy box. He pulls out a large knife and a rod. Idly, he rakes the knife across the rod.

📻 And he rakes, and rakes, and rakes. The metal shavings begin to glitter across his lap.

📻 Slowly, his eyes trail toward a thick cord, following it up a ladder heading toward the door in his ceiling.

📻 The trapdoor is cracked open --not because he left it that way, but because of the damage it received (along with the rest of his studio) from the epic battle between them and the Angels.

📻 Alastor's raking hand slows to a stop.

📻 Up in that room amidst the debris is his microphone. The stand's been fixed, but the mic's damaged. Alastor's been making it work as he attempts to fix it, but...

📻 He sighs, his smile growing small.

📻 If he could've beaten that damn Adam, he'd be an even stronger overlord than he already is. Perhaps even stronger than many hellborns. He'd probably even be able to fight himself out of that shitty deal...

📻 Ring, ring!

📻 Alastor's ears shoot up in surprise.

📻 Ah, yes! He'd gotten a personal landline from his dear friend Rosie not very long ago!

📻 Without realizing it, Alastor stands from his seat to swiftly move toward the phone, grinning wider than before.

📻 It's an elegant candlestick-styled landline encrusted with golden swirls and molded from a beautiful, shimmering red.

📻 A gift that could be from no one other than Rosie...

📻 "Hello, Alastor speaking!"

📻 "Alastor," Rosie laughs heartily, and Alastor's cheeks press into his eyes as he basks in her moment of amusement. "You don't need to answer the phone that way, you know!"

📻 "Oh, but I simply want you to know that you're speaking with me, my dear!" Alastor says cheekily.

📻 "I see... so, does that mean the Radio Demon himself has an imposter on the loose?" Rosie asks, matching Alastor's sass. He can almost feel her signature sharp grin growing ever wider.

📻 "Of course not!" Alastor chirps. "Because I'd have already tracked him down and killed him!" Instinctively, Alastor's free hand pulls itself into a tightly balled fist, a green glow suddenly shooting from his being as he feels the souls swirling within buzz with life, his horns stretching across his torso.

📻 Truthfully, the very thought of someone imitating him and potentially tricking Rosie pisses him off. Perhaps he should go out and make an example of someone... you know, just to keep the record straight.

📻 Rosie laughs even harder. "Oh, Alastor! I wouldn't have believed it for a second!"

📻 "Hm. Is that so?" Alastor's horns shrink, and just that quick, he's calm. He sits at his dressing table, leaning into his hand as he presses the earpiece further into his ear.

📻 "No, what do you take me for, a fool?" Before Alastor can say anything, Rosie follows up with, "I could never mistake anyone else for you, hun."

📻 There is a short pause, and Alastor hums. Rosie continues...

📻 "I have a peculiar feeling, though. It's the reason I called you today."

📻 "Oh? And what would that reason be?" Alastor asks. He lifts his head from his palm, preferring to twirl the earpiece's cord at the moment.

📻 "I haven't seen or heard from you since that crazy battle two days ago. I know you're still healing Alastor --"

📻 "Not at all!" The words shoot through Alastor's teeth, and Rosie falls silent. The quietness between them grows as Alastor tenses for a moment. His smile feeling quite forced now, he clears his throat.

📻 "I'm doing just fine, Rosie. Is that all you wanted to say?" Alastor's ears remain pinned down, and he drags his pointed nails across the table's surface, making light scratches in it. There's a low, rumbly sound on the other line. Rosie's humming.

📻 Finally, she says, "I know you too well, Alastor."

📻 "Really?" Snarkily, Alastor says, "I think there's more to know, my friend!"

📻 Rosie asks if that's a joke or if he seriously believes that. Alastor replies but doesn't necessarily answer the question.

📻 Honestly, he doesn't know if he's joking or not either.

📻 "You're irritated." Rosie simply says.

📻 "Not so --I feel quite well this morning!" Alastor insists.

📻 "You're not usually up at four, nearly five in the morning. Your day starts at six or seven, maybe seven-thirty going on eight if you're sleeping in late." Rosie says firmly. The tightness in her voice makes Alastor's grin slowly pull back into some kind of snarl, his nose crinkling. Heat rises within him, his face going from a purplish gray to a deep magenta.

📻 "Rosie," Alastor chuckles, but nothing's funny. "What do you know of my schedule? No one knows my schedule."

📻 "I know you usually start your morning with a hunt and a cold meal." She says.

📻 "Many people do!" Alastor replies.

📻 "Usually, you're already dressed, but given the time, I bet you're in your drabbier clothes."

📻 "Hah! I'm fully dressed!" Alastor says, awkwardly glancing elsewhere at the blatant lie.

📻 "With a smile? Sure. In your day clothes? Absolutely not!" Rosie huffs.

📻 "Well, what does it matter to you, Rosie?!" Alastor snaps, his fist slamming onto the table. Rosie laughs a little. It's adorable, but it only pisses him off more.

📻 "And losing your temper? Now, that's really not like you, Alastor." Rosie says. Alastor grunts. Being taunted into acting out of his character... is unlike him.

📻 And pretty embarrassing, actually.

📻 Especially on the phone with Rosie...

📻 Trying his best to regain control, Alastor slowly lets out a laugh of his own. It's a little weird-sounding --not entirely forced and not entirely genuine...

📻 "Come on, Alastor," Rosie finally says, "Tell me what's wrong."

📻 Alastor remains silent, however. His lips purse into an uncomfortably tight smile.

📻 "You know how I know something's wrong with you?" Rosie asks.

📻 Alastor remains silent. After a while, Rosie says...

📻 "You're speaking without your radio voice."

📻 Somehow, Alastor's brows furrow even more. His spirit shrivels into a tiny ball, and if he had a tail --truthfully -- it'd probably be tucking itself beneath his behind by now.

📻 "Alastor the Radio Demon has a very distinctive voice, you know!" Rosie says, "But every now and again, when it's an odd hour of the day, and there hasn't been any broadcasts, or those baby overlords aren't complaining about a certain radio demon on their little picture boxes or tiny telephones..."

📻 "When I don't even hear a Cab Calloway song or a ragtime piece playing on your channel... I know there's something wrong with my dearest friend." Rosie finishes her explanation, now going silent. Alastor remains silent as well.

📻 A few moments pass.

📻 "... Alastor? Are you there, Alastor?" Rosie asks.

📻 "... Of course I am, my dear."

📻 With his refusal to say anything else, Rosie sighs deeply.

📻 "I suppose you don't want to tell me." She says.

📻 "Well --" Alastor is interrupted by Rosie.

📻 "Ah, ah, ah! Don't worry about it. I won't push you any further." She says this so sweetly, a smile evident in her tone.

📻 After a moment, Alastor can't help but think to himself, "She's the only person in all of Hell who could get under my skin like this and yet survive."

📻 Does she realize how special she is?

📻 Then, Alastor shifts in his seat, leaning into his chair and tucking his free hand into the sleeve that is his arm and torso.

📻 Indeed, she's a special demon after all. How could he ever stay mad at one of his closest friends?

📻 Alastor's spirit slowly lifts and expands inside him, and before he knows it, his mouth moves on its own.

📻 "You have always been so earnest, Rosie," he says, "It has always been the spirit I've admired in you."

📻 "Oh!" Rosie seems caught off guard, and Alastor finds himself laughing. For real, this time.

📻 His ears lift as do his shoulders. Everything's brighter just that quickly.

📻 "You've always been so charming, my friend!" He continues. "A one-of-a-kind demon belle."

📻 This time Rosie gets to laugh.

📻 With half-lidded eyes, Alastor shifts to lean into his hand again. He takes this moment to simply enjoy the sound of Rosie's laughter this early hellish morning.

📻 "Oh, Alastor," she coos between her giggles, "You're the most!"

📻 "And you're the mostest."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

WOO!! Finally done!!

I did NOT intend for Alastor's part to be so long! Like, BRO, when I finished writing it (FINALLY!) I just sat back and checked the time… it went from 11PMish when I started to damn 2, goin’ on 3 o’clock!! I was like “WTH??!!” 😭😂😂

Plus!! I feel like the beginning is kind of slow, but, BUT I think y'all gonna survive based on the rest of the story!

That said, I kinda feel like this part of the “Squish” collection leans a lot more platonic as compared to Rosie’s part, but I thought about it and was like: “You know, that’s not necessarily a bad thing!” After all, while I personally HC Rosie as someone in the grey area of aroace, I always imagine Alastor as someone who is romance-indifferent (based on how he behaved in the comics when some of the ladies of cannibal town were swooning over him, otherwise, I don’t know if there’s been any other info from the creators about his feelings toward romance (not smex!!), but I don’t get the impression that he’s disgusted or completely put off by it —just disinterested, if nothing else). As such, I felt like someone like Alastor, while not seemingly as bothered by the idea of intimacy/romance as much as he is seggs, would probably not think romance or even behave in such a way when dealing with someone he’s especially close to. At the same time, with the kind of chemistry he has with Rosie, I can easily see an intimate bond between them. Is it sexual intimacy? Absolutely not. Romantic intimacy? … Ehhhhh, so-so but not quite, especially on Alastor’s end. Is it simply a deep, emotional kind of intimacy? Slightly blurring the lines between platonic and romantic?? Well, yeah, kind of like that!

All and all, I’m still deciding what kind of quasi-platonic relationship I want them to have. I feel like it would be a kind of intimate relationship where certain forms of intimacy are welcome (cuddles, hand-holding/arm-linking, hours specifically reserved for each other (dates, lol), innocent kisses here and there, etc), but in honor of Alastor’s sex-averse nature, I imagine sex, for example, isn’t really something they would engage in —if ever at all, honestly.

And I think I feel fine with that. There’s plenty of Alastor content that completely ignores his sex-averse nature for the sake of a spicy fanfic, and to each their own I suppose, but I do think there could be at least a fair amount of content (shipping or otherwise) that still at least tries to respect Alastor’s orientation.

Although, at the same time I feel like for those who challenge Alastor being paired with anyone, many of them are starting to imply (or flat-out say) that bc of his aroaceness he couldn’t possibly be in a relationship of any kind?? That he’d be utterly repulsed by it??

On one hand, if that’s your headcanon, do what you want! Plus, there are def aroace folk who don’t want to engage in relationships of any kind, and that’s valid, too. On the other hand, I’m a little concerned that a lot of people are starting to (once again) associate all ace, aro-, and aroaces with this inherent disgust or disinterest in intimacy! I feel like this is snowballing into the “aces/aros/aroaces are emotionless/can’t love/robots” kind of thing!! And this time, it’s being perpetuated by other aroace/aspec people!! Which is crazy!!

All in all though, I just feel like —bottom line —if you’re gonna ship Alastor, at least try to be respectful of his orientation. However, let us all keep in mind that being aroace/aspec does NOT mean you “can’t love”/care about some intimately. That may not include sex/romance, and if it does, it may not look the way it’s depicted in allo relationships, but that doesn’t make it any less valid. Idk. It’s just something I’ve been noticing lately… IDK!!! It’s complicated, lol.

Anywho, I’ll finally get off my soapbox again!! lol. I believe I said I’d follow up on this miniature RadioRose collection with a few HCs?? Like a traditional HC list?? Soo…. Yeah!

Hope you guys enjoyed the post, long as it is —and all of you stay tuned!!! 📻

Part I 🌹 | Part II 📻

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! - 9th Part (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Hi everyone, I feel like I should give up on this story lol, it's just going on forever, and mostly it's just for my enjoyment. I am still only in Bastogne and I want to follow the storyline of the HBO show to the last ep. But omg I just keep thinking of things I want to add. I feel bad leaving the story unfinished if people are actually reading it, but I don't think anyone is anymore. So maybe I can just stop posting. Anyway this is a sad chapter, got in my feels a bit and I have become a bit obsessed with Babe, ugh I just love him so much, so I had to give him and Em a little moment. As always this is based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the men, no hate to anyone actually involved.

Please let me know if anyone wants me to keep up with this story, if not, I might just let it die. Thanks!

I bounce in the jeep beside Gene as we drive into Bastogne. The grey war torn town is overrun with soldiers and their artillery. The driver yells over the engine telling us that everyone has pulled back here and that beyond this town we have no back-up. The 326th medical platoon was captured, that is why there is no aid station and no medical help. Snow covered bodies line the street all stacked on one another. I look away trying to focus on the task at hand, I help lift Skinny, who took a mortar hit to the leg, onto the stretcher to get him into the makeshift hospital. The driver tells us they are giving the men hooch, which I assume is a type of liquor, to help with the pain. I follow behind Gene as the soldiers carry Skinny into the church. The hospital is full to the brim with people, the smell of blood and infection permeating the air. A nurse orders the men on where to put the injured as they come in. She is a tall woman with soft features, a blue head scarf wrapped around her head to keep her hair out of her face. Gene hands Skinny over to her stating the situation, informing her no morphine had been used on the man. I follow the nurse with my eyes watching her go to the next room to help the other nurse with a patient. Gene asks a soldier beside us why the injured men haven’t been evacuated. 

“We can’t evacuate, we’re cut off.” The man informs us. The sounds of the nurse’s voice travels through the church as she speaks French to her colleague, her voice warm and comforting. Then men here seem to calm as she touches and speaks to them. I watch her enamoured, I haven’t seen another woman in a long time, so it feels comforting. She approaches Skinny with a bottle of alcohol pouring him a glass for the pain, as he drinks she strokes his hair in a gentle manner. The man sighs as if relieved of pain by her touch. 

“I’m in heaven Doc.” Skinny smiles as the two nurses tend to him. I laugh, shaking my head. The nurse’s eyes land on me, she tilts her head seemingly recognising me as another female. I’m sure I don’t look very pretty, swamped in as many clothes I can fit onto my body, dirt and sweat caked to my face and skin, my hair loosely tied under my helmet. At a glance I would look like another soldier. Gene proceeds to ask the nurse for any supplies she can spare. I follow along to help. She gives Gene a box filling it with supplies, Gene pulls out odd looking bandages, “What’s this?” he asks the nurse, looking confused. 

“From the bed.” She replies, still stocking the box.

“Sheets?” Gene clarifies. The nurse nods, putting the last of the equipment into the box. They exchange thank you’s in french. The nurse turns on her heel walking off to her next task, Gene is hot on her tail, as I tag behind. Gene asks her a question in French which I don’t understand, but she replies with her name. 

“My name is Renee.” She replies as she moves quickly to the next room. Gene follows her continuing the conversation. I go to follow when my hand is captured. I look down as a soldier grasps my hand, his eyes swollen shut. I kneel down beside him. My eyes scan over his body. He has other injuries scattered around his body. He moans in pain, still holding my hand.

“Nurse?” The man whispers quietly. I take my free hand cupping his cheek, so he knows I’m here. 

“What do you need?” I ask the man, my thumb absentmindedly stroking over his skin. A sob escapes his lips, his grip on my hand tightening. 

“I’m scared.” The man chokes out. I look around seeing the alcohol they used to help with pain perched on a counter just out of reach. I stand to grab it but the man still clings to me. 

“No, please don’t go.” The soldier cries. I kneel back down so that I am closer to the bed.

“I’m right here, I’m not leaving.” I console the man as I run my fingers through his hair in a soothing manner. His sobs grow quieter, I sit with him continuing to comfort the soldier. His breathing turns even, his grip on my hand becomes looser. A soft snore leaves his lips. I sat with him for a while more in case he woke up. I see Gene peer around the corner, signalling his head to me that we are leaving. I stand from my position, placing a soft kiss to the man’s head, before following Gene back to the jeep to return back to the front. Gene grabs a pair of boots from one of the dead soldier's feet, I look away, I don’t want to see him have to yank the shoes off of the man. Renee appears from the church calling for Gene, throwing him some chocolate, they share a smile between them. I take my place in the jeep, as Gene sits in the front. We drive away, as we do I turn back to the church watching it grow smaller as we travel. My mind lingers on the man I sat with, I didn’t even know his name, but I wonder when he will be able to go home and be treated properly for his injuries. 

We arrive back on the front to see a group of men gathered in front of a jeep. A soldier stands in front of them blessing the men. We hop out of the car making our way over, as the man finishes his prayer. 

“Reconnaissance mission, Kraut hunting.” Spina informs us. I nod at Gene who hands over the box of supplies we got from the hospital. 

“We’ll go.” Gene tells Spina as I start to trail behind the men. Johnny approaches us, stopping us in our path. 

“Doc and Lane, it's a combat patrol. How about you two hang back. Stay out of trouble.” He smiles, giving us a nod as we silently agree with the man, stopping in our place. He follows the soldiers, telling Hobbs to hurry up, yelling for them to form tactical columns. 

I sit by Gene as we stare into the fog. We lost sight of them after they had walked for a bit. We hear distant shouts and chatter. I squint trying to see anything. But we wait in silence. My stomach clenches, anxiety gnaws at my insides. I bounce my leg, jittery with anticipation. I hope that the mission goes well. I look over to Gene again. He perches himself against the tree, staring into the distance. He seems off, more distant. I’ve seen that look countless times now, it pains me to see it on his face. I nudge his knee, his eyes glance over to me.

“Hey Gene, are you ok?” I tilt my head, showing my concern on my face. He nods, focussing his eyes back onto the scene in front of us. 

“You can talk to me Gene.” I offer, “You and I are in the same boat, you know. I’m here for you.” I can’t tell if he is listening to me or not but I continue. 

“It’s ok to ask for help, I know as someone whose job is to help others, it’s hard to ask for help back. But I’m here Gene, I will listen. I can be a shoulder to cry on if you need. I know it’s hard when all you see is pain. It takes its toll. The soldier’s get to share their victories of missions, but most of the time we don’t get that satisfaction. It’s hard to tell if we are winning or not when all we see is the aftermath of it all.” I ramble on, unsure if he is paying attention, but I want him to know I’m someone he can come too. 

“I’m fine Lane, but I think you should take some of your own advice.” He states coldly. “You don’t ask for help either. Last time I saw you, you were nearly dead in a hole.” I scoff, going to protest that it was different, “Just because you didn’t ask for someone to come with you.” I sigh, guess he has a point, he and I are the same. 

“Fine, how about we both take the advice then?” I offer my solution. He gives me a curt nod. Rapid gunfire sounds, the yelling increases, pulling out focus back to the forest in front of us. I sit forward straining my ears to hear what they’re yelling. My heartbeat accelerates, as I shift to a crouched position, readying myself to run. I look to Gene who has the same position. I almost leap out of my skin when a soldier appears from the fog. 

“What’s happening, sir?” Gene asks the man who puffs from his run. I recognise Peacock who runs past us. 

“We’re pulling back. We made contact. I gotta get to CP.” Peacock disappears into the tree line. Leaving us glaring into the distance waiting for the rest of the men to pull back. 

I watch silhouettes of the men running back towards us, I get to my feet. They yell confused at each other as they sprint through the trees. One of the men falls to the ground as a bullet hits him. Gene rushes forward, I wait to see if anyone else needs any help. I scan the men as they run past. They hold the line, lying down and readying their weapons as Gene aids the fallen soldier. Lewis appears by my side asking Johnny what happened. 

“We lost Julian.” Yells Martin, Babe looks distressed. He yells that Julian is still alive. I move forward to go and find him out of instinct. But I don’t get far, Lew’s hand grasps my bicep, stopping me in my tracks. 

“We have to fall back.” Martin yells arguing with the persistent Babe who wants to save his foxhole companion. Gene and Christenson move the man back from the line to the awaiting jeep. I fall back with the rest of the men, I turn my head as I run, looking into the foggy forest, my mind wanders to the dying man they had to leave behind. 

After we get back to safety the men seem disheartened, losing such a young life has taken its toll. They sit in a large circle, the normally banterful chatter is dead, coughing fills the silence along with murmurs of the men having quiet conversations. Babe seems to be taking it the hardest, my eyes wander over to him every now and then. He hunches over into himself, hugging his arms around his body. His stare is glazed over, like he isn’t here. Winters tries to bring morale to the men joining them in their circle, having soft conversations with them. It’s apparent that Babe isn’t listening. Too caught up in his own thoughts. 

The cold night falls quickly. I wrap my jacket closer to my body, how I wish I had a portable heater, oh or one of those heat packs you take skiing, that would be heavenly. I sigh, my breath showing in the freezing air. I get up from my empty foxhole, I need another person or I will literally die from hypothermia. I stand from my hole running from one to the other. I know who I want to find. I stumble across Babe, shivering alone in a foxhole that isn’t his. My heart clenches, remembering that his foxhole buddy had just died this afternoon. I slip in beside him, his shivering chattering his teeth. “Babe, you’re freezing.” I wrap my arm around his shoulders pulling him closer to me. He leans against me. I rummage around in my bag pulling out my blanket, I wrap it around his legs and chest. I shake my head, this isn’t enough. I stand, his hand shoots out, grabbing at my pant leg. 

“Don’t leave.” He begs, grasping firmly at the material. 

“I’m just going to try and find more blankets. I will be right back, promise.” He nods, hesitantly letting go of me. I move quickly, keeping low to the ground as I run. Asking in the holes for spare blankets. I got one from Luz and one from Perco. I promise them I will give them back in the morning. They smile at me, telling me not to worry. I thank them. Grateful for their generosity. 

I jump back in next to Babe, who doesn’t appear to be any warmer than the last time I saw him. I put one of the blankets over the foxhole to shelter us from the snow and wind, hoping it will trap some of the heat in with us. I pull him close again, wrapping a blanket over the both of us. He sighs, I rest my head on his, I rub my hand up and down his arm trying to create some warmth. We don’t speak, I let him grieve quietly. 

“You’re warm.” He whispers barely audible. I hum, “My mother used to say the same thing.” 

“Used to?” He asks. My chest constricts, I don’t talk about my mother often, it’s a subject that hurts too much, but I feel I can share with Babe. 

“My mother died when I was 18, from cancer.” I tell him. Tears well in my eyes, but he faces away from me. “After that I was on my own, being 18 I was considered an adult. I don’t have any other family, my father wasn’t in the picture and my grandmother had died a couple years earlier.” He doesn’t speak, just listens to me talk, “My mom when she was really sick always got really cold. I would stay with her, she always said I was like her hot water bottle.” I chuckle thinking of all the times she would latch onto my side, as I protested that she was too cold. She would laugh and touch me with her cold hands and feet. I would shriek, trying to get away playfully. She would always fall asleep first, I would lie in bed listening to her soft breaths, cherishing her while I could. I would bask in her scent, and her thin arms that wrapped around me. When she got really bad she would have to stay in hospital, she would try and fit me in her bed but it was too small. I would sit by her bed and hold her hand while she slept. After she had passed I had to grow up, I was on my own, no one to love or care for me. Kind of like how I am here. I didn't exist, no family, no friends. I often thought if I were to die what would happen. Would I be found, would someone be able to identify my body, would anyone come to my funeral. A tear slips from my eye, I hastily brush it away with my free hand. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Em.” He says after I stop talking. I don’t speak, worried my voice will crack if I continue. Not only was I alone, but I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I wasn’t able to process my grief, I had to move on, move forward. Pretend like it didn’t happen, that I was fine and capable of being by myself. No one I could share fond memories with about my mother. I often visited her grave. I would talk to her about my life, what I was doing, but even to her headstone I lied. I put up a front that I was alright. Was it stupid I didn’t want to worry her even if she wasn’t here. Did a part of me wish just to pass too, life was so hard, even harder without her. I had no one. I guess it wouldn’t make a difference if I did die here, no one would realise I was gone. Babe had stopped shivering, still nestled into my side with my arm wrapped around him. I wiped the stray tears from my cheeks before he realised I had been crying. We sat in silence listening to the world around us. I let my mind wander, I slipped into thoughts of my beloved mother, but the memories were faded and tattered at the edges, not as crisp as they were before. Her laugh was not quite like how it used to be, I was forgetting. That hurt the most, I have these memories of her but I don’t know how long they will last, I’m so scared I will forget. I have forgotten her smell, the clothes I took of hers now smell of me and not her. I don’t want to forget her, but it’s hard to maintain by myself. If I had someone who had known her to share them with, maybe they would last. 

I’m pulled from my mind when the blanket moves from above us, and Gene sits beside Babe. He doesn’t move from his position to look up, Gene smiles warmly at him. “Got you.” His smile fades when Babe doesn’t answer, I give him a worried look. He russells through his bag, pulling out a chocolate bar, “Heffron,” he offers Babe the sweet, still Babe is unmoving from his position pressed to me. Gene unwraps the bar exposing the chocolate, breaking a piece from the top. “Edward.” He holds the chocolate in front of his face, Babe sits up slightly looking at it. Gene places it in his gloved hand, “Eat it.” Babe snaps off a piece with his teeth, “Good.” Gene says to him pleased. He chews slowly. “Perfect.” Gene sniffs, pleased that Babe is eating. 

“I promised him if he got hit, I’d get his stuff and bring it to his ma, you know.” Babe blurts tearfully, his voice cracking as he speaks. “Now the fucking krauts will strip him.” 

“Hey, no. It’s okay.” Gene tries to reassure Babe, not really knowing what to say. But it’s not okay really, it’s awful and now Babe has this weight on his shoulders, that he couldn’t uphold the promise they had made to each other. The guilt he must hold will be eating him alive. 

“It’s not. It’s not okay. We should’ve got to him.” It’s silent for a beat, as his words hang in the air. We have nothing to say that will make him feel better, he did try, for all that counts he tried his best. Babe coughs, as he again presses himself to me, I wriggle getting comfortable, holding him closer. Gene gets under the blankets as well, sandwiching Babe between us, hopefully keeping him somewhat warm. 

[cowboydisaster]

La Petite Fleur

The Blossom Series; Dutch van der Linde x pregnant wife reader

“There's my dearest girl.” Dutch hums, a chuckle in his throat as you begin to stir. His large hand runs up the expanse of your leg, squeezing your hip affectionately as he walks up beside the bed. He's your favorite sight in the morning, your most cherished familiarity.

“Good morning.” You hum, eyes cracking open as you slowly sit up. You peek out the french doors to the white specks that are drifting down from the sky, dotting the muddy ground. Your eyebrows draw together at the sight.

“Snow?” You ask, making sure you're seeing things clearly. Snow in the swamps of Lemoyne?

“A Christmas miracle.” Dutch smiles, sitting next to you on the soft, king-sized bed. You adjust around the big, fluffy comforter, leaning your head against his shoulder, arm wrapping around his bicep.

“Brought you some tea.” Dutch whispers so as to not ruin your serene morning. He hands you a steaming mug of freshly steeped tea, and you nearly moan as you take the warm drink from him.

“Thank you.” You smile, bringing it to your lips, drinking down some of the soothing liquid. Dutch has perfected a cup of tea by this point. He knows it's your favorite, and he brings you a mug every single morning. He's been doing it ever since you married him.

After a few good sips, the tea begins to warm your bones and wake you up. More alert, definitely more awake, you set your mug on the end table and lean against Dutch’s shoulder. It's only then that you notice what lies in his hand.

A golden box, topped with a fluffy, white ribbon. You lean towards the little package, peeking, and he chuckles. You raise an eyebrow.

“Go on, baby.” He hums, pushing some soft hair behind your ear, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smile, taking the box in your hands. You hope it's nothing too fancy. He's always showering you with thoughtful gifts, and you never have much to give in return. It's irrational, you know. He would never want you feeling like you owed him.

This year, you hadn't spent any money on his gift, and still, you know it's one of the most precious things you'll ever give to him. Your lips tick upward at the thought.

“Dutch, really, you didn't have to–”

“Ah, ah.” He stops you, “I wanted to. Only the best for the missus.”

Your cheeks blush pink as you pull the ribbon, letting it fall to the floor before removing the lid. His hand runs up and down your arm as you unbox the little gift.

When you see what lies inside, you gasp, hand covering your mouth. In the pretty little box lies a beautiful necklace, a golden chain with a small heart pendant on the end. You pull the chain up slowly, admiring the gift against your hand.

“Oh, Dutch– it's beautiful.” You tear up at your always-thoughtful husband, “Would you put it on me? Please?”

“Happily.” He smiles at your reaction, taking the golden necklace in his large hands. You gather your hair, and he sits at your back, draping the necklace across your neck. Dutch takes his time clasping it, distracted by the exposed skin of your neck. He runs his nose along the curve of your neck, pressing a kiss to the skin, feeling your pulse quicken under his lips. He smirks at the way you still react to his touch, even after all these years of being together.

After a few more kisses, pulling out a couple gasps from you, he clasps the necklace. His big fingers don't mix well with such dainty jewelry, but by now, he's gotten the hang of it. You release your hair, letting the waves fall down your back again. When you turn, he adjusts the pendant on your chest, making sure it's centered.

“Perfect.” He hums.

“Thank you.”

He pulls you into his lap, hands on your thighs, and kisses you sweetly. A peck. Two. And then you're opening up to him, letting him in, and he's slowly running his tongue along yours, deepening the kiss until you're forced to pull away to breathe.

Your eyes go wide, remembering the card you have stashed in the old rickety nightstand by the bed. You push off of him gently.

“I have something for you, too.” You call, grabbing the red card from the drawer, going back to him. A falter in your excitement ensues as you glance at the door, noticing the chatter going on in the rest of the house. Grimshaw and Pearson are preparing a big meal, and it's a bit of a madhouse in the old dilapidated mansion.

“Could we possibly step outside for this one?” You ask sheepishly. His present is a bit more… private. Something you're not ready to share with the whole camp just yet.

Dutch's eyebrows furrow, he hesitates.

“Of course.” He agrees, “You need a coat, darling.”

Your coat is downstairs by the main door, and knowing this, Dutch pulls you from bed, wrapping you in one of his own. The warm, black wool wraps around you, and you nearly drown on the oversized fabric. It's wholly comforting, but not enough to quell your anxiety. To calm your nerves. You swallow thickly.

“You okay, baby?” Dutch asks, taking your hand in his, placing a kiss to your knuckles, to the ring on your left hand.

“I'm okay.” You nod, taking a shaky breath. His hand rests on the small of your back as he leads you through the French doors.

Snow dusts the balcony, covering the fence and the chairs. Dutch dusts one off, sitting in it, pulling you into his lap.

“What is it, my love?” Dutch asks, the hand on your waist trails upward, wipes the crease away from between your brows.

“Just nervous is all.” You smile sweetly, “Go ahead and open it.”

Dutch looks down at the red envelope, pulling the seal open with focus, care. His eyes flicker to yours, seeing that sparkle, the anxiety behind your eyes. He's not sure what's causing the worry, but he wants to solve it. With time, he's sure.

A card lies inside the envelope, and he takes it out, inspecting the front, running his fingers over the card stock. He smiles at the card you've made, brown paper adorned with sketches of mistletoe and holly.

“Beautiful work, as always, my dear.” He hums, flipping the card open. Your heart thunders in your chest. You adjust on his lap, pulling back a bit to see the look on his face as he reads the card.

Merry Christmas, Dutch. Thank you for everything this year..

Thank you for making me a momma.

He pauses, eyes reading the line five times over before he glances up, catching your eyes.

“A–” His lips break into a smile, a short laugh breaking, “You mean to say–”

“I’m pregnant Dutch… We're gonna be parents.”

He laughs, a bright, joyous smile gracing his lips. His arms wrap around you, warm and strong, completing you. He's your other half, and now you'll have another little piece to add to your puzzle of a family.

“You've made me a father.”

His shoulders are dusted with snow, alongside his coat that is wrapped around your shoulders as he picks you up. The card flutters to the ground. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands on his jaw as your lips crash together. Tears slide down your cheeks as you kiss him, pulling away only to laugh or to sniffle. All that you've given him, and now you're giving him this. A baby. A family.

“Merry Christmas, my love.” Dutch whispers, placing you back on your feet. Your forehead presses against his, “Thank you… for being with me through all this, for– for marrying me, giving me this.” His hand slides down to your stomach, the bump not big enough to even notice, but still, he knows his child is in there.

“Merry Christmas, Dutch.” You lean onto your tiptoes, lips locking once more.