#Fake plants for Home Decor

[azzyaesthetics]

Who knew furniture stores could be so aesthetic?

[okapirose]

Hot Cocoa Sharkulent

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[greenleafgoddess]

2 pack of pretty dark green artificial hanging vines with included ceramic pots

available on amazon now:

[im-like-if-a-girl]

New teapot haul!!! I lucked out today, all four for under $25 :D

My favorite is the lemon slice, but a close second is the elephant creamer :)

[nerdby]

You know what pisses me off? I once went on Reddit to ask about where I can find decent-looking silk plants when I still had cats. Cause pretty much every plant is a determined cat killer -- seriously, there is a very short list of plants that aren't poisonous to cats. Sadly, a lot of them are dull as fuck to look at. To me, anyway.

So I go on there and these motherfuckers are so out of touch with reality that they direct me to a website that charges $200USD for a fucking fake plant. $200USD for a piece of plastic that just fucking sits there and pretends to contribute oxygen to the environment. Do you guys know how many LIVING plants and flower pots and plant stands I can buy for $200USD at the fucking Home Depot?!

A lot

Fuck it, I'm going on a succulent shopping spree come summer time.

[prozach27]

.

[madammidnightsblog]

Yandere Mailman X Sleepy Darling

Yandere Mailman fell in love with you the first time he was sent to work in your neighborhood and caught you sluggishly walking out of your house to get the mail. He watched you walk out onto the wooden porch with your blanket wrapped around you and your hair a mess for napping, it was your day off from a busy week at the office so that was a very much needed nap. Yandere Mailman was taken away by how cute you looked with drool stains down your chin and the sleepy look on your adorable face as he watched you from across the street. He just walked to scoop you right up and pull you into his mail truck and take you home. Yandere Mailman who memorized your address and the white painted fence with what looked like fake plants decorating your front porch as they looked too green for someone who never was home. It was burned into the back of his head and how couldn't? The owner was just so cute! Yandere Mailman gets so jealous when he sees all the envelops that were filled out in such pretty handwriting of yours, addressing to a man at a military base- he didn't care that it was your brother that you were writing too (he didn't open them and read them, what kind of person would invade such privacy? their seals just happened to be broken- okay?) You shouldn't be writing to any man! Yandere Mailman just can't help but take those letters you send to your brother and his letters; you shouldn't talk to him- he left you after all, right? If he cared, he wouldn't be away and stayed by your side. That's what you do for those you love and no, he totally didn't jerk off to your letters because you went into detail about how excited you were to go to the beach with your friends and how you bought at new swimsuit for it- okay! Yandere Mailman who sits outside in his mail truck he parked across the street with his dick in his hand, jerking off as he watched you once again sluggishly walked outside to get the mail. The adorable, tired expression of yours and how you're wearing such small night shorts and that big loose t-shirt, it just has him throbbing every time. Yandere Mailman who cums once you noticed the unmarked envelope he left for you, watching the once sleepy expression turn into a confused one. It was just so damn cute, and he couldn't help it, knowing you're opening it and reading the little love letter he made with your chubby cheeks turning red. His balls were squeezed in his free hand while the other moved in a fast and sloppy pattern until he makes a mess all over his hand. Yandere Mailman makes sure you memorize the days you're home in the mornings and leaves little love letters that are totally are normal! They might talk about how much he loves your adorable little face and how your hair is just so damn pretty that he wants to play with it and how he wants to see your little sleepy face sucking him off while you're barely awake, drooling and sleepily blink up at him as he helps you since you're just so tired.

[adore-gregor]

Room decoration tips are very welcomed

[onsomenewsht]

from the vault:

my knees shake / my heart beats like a drum

》 Feels Like I’m in Love, Kelly Marie

》 Aitana Bonmati x Reader

》 the “language of flowers” is an example of cryptological communication that attributes meanings to flowers and plants, determined by cultural beliefs, legends, and myths

“I need flowers that mean I’m done with you, get married already, what do you have for me?”

The giggles that fill your shop are cute enough to overcome Aitana’s embarrassment at the looks of the other customers.

In her defense, the place is usually empty this time of the day, too early for an apology’s rush in and too late for a date’s pick up.

“Don’t worry Teresa, she means well”, you reassure the old lady, who turns around with a questioning – and quite judgemental, if you ask the footballer – glance.

The bouquet arranged for her every month to bring to her late husband’s grave is almost ready, you just have to cut and adjust some little touches.

As she waits for your attention, the brunette dances around the shop on the heels of her shoes, gaze wandering from the elaborated compositions exposed to the wall covered with green leaves and colourful notes left by your customers for you or their loved ones.

She always tries to spot the new additions.

“I’m all yours, stargirl”

“Can I have another name?”

“I don’t know, let’s ask the mural with your face right around the corner”

The ease with which you can stain Aitana’s cheeks in red is quite embarrassing, if not for the genuine smile the flirt always comes with. She could let you tease her all day just to keep talking with you and be able to pull an open laugh out of you.

“What were you saying about getting married?”

The Catalan’s brain short-circuits, she needs a moment to realise what you’re talking about as her mouth opens and closes several times to your amusement.

“Right! My friends! My friends invited me for dinner. I will be third-wheeling again, they need to get married already!”

“Your football friends, right? The one with all the tattoos who looks like could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll?”

“How do you do that?”, she asks, pointing at you with a frenetic moving finger, “You meet her once, how do you get people so well?”

“I have to, people don’t come in knowing what they want but asking for what they need”

You smile at Aitana’s questioning gaze, starting to walk around the shop to gather some flowers and decorative leaves to create a little table piece for her. Your hands move in precise motions, somehow knowing exactly where to place everything.

“I need a flower that means I’m happy you invited me to your house warming party, but I barely remember your husband name or someone could enter and ask for something that means I cheated on you with our kid’s teacher, but please just think I’m suddenly a hopelessly romantic and so on”, you explain, even faking different voices and accents to prove your point.

“You’re kidding”

“You’d be surprised”

~

“I told you Tana, you don’t have to bring flowers every time we invite you over”

Ingrid welcomes the Catalan inside, even so accepting the beautiful gift with excitement to find the perfect spot for it.

“Oh, please! Those are not for us, but just an excuse to see the flower girl!”

The cat’s toy that flies through the entire room perfectly hits Mapi’s head as soon as she joins them from the kitchen.

Completely ignoring the commotion, her girlfriend places the little arrangement in the middle of the table, carefully caressing the long green leaves and noticing how the colours perfectly complement the house’s decor.

She turns to spot the blushing spreads on Aitana’s face.

“Her flowers are beautiful”

“They are”, the taller footballer confirms, an amused smile on her lips.

“She’s cute too”, she admits.

“She definitely is!”

María is fast enough to avoid the punch coming from her friend – the midfielder may be shorter, but her arms are impressive.

“Do you remember that bouquet I came back home with last month?”, the defender asks the Norwegian, who nods with curiosity, “Well, I happen to mention our anniversary to our little Tana here. I somehow find myself in this flower shop, watching her talking and walking around as she owns the place, and the actual owner flirting without shame right in front of my salad–”

This time, the hit lands on her shoulder with just enough force to shut her up, but not enough to stop the laughter erupting from Aitana’s so-called friends.

~

The day after spending almost 30 euros in flowers she finds herself giving away to the training staff, Aitana knows she needs to put an end to it.

You’re setting up the shop for the day, putting out some green arrangements and new compositions.

It’s definitely too early to be here, but she has to talk to you without the fear of being interrupted by Pablo – the serial dater who buys a bunch of roses every two weeks for different girls – or worse, Teresa.

She marches into the place, dragging you inside and almost giving you a heart attack.

“I need a flower that says I’ve been coming to your shop an obnoxious amount of times the past couple of months, buying flowers I don’t actually need with any excuses I can come up with, just to talk to you ‘cus I have a huge crush and can’t ask you out to save my life, do you think you can help me?”

You study Aitana with a huge smile on your lips, closing the small distance and holding her face between your hands to properly meet her eyes. Her face is red, and her breath is shortened by the rushed confession.

She’s never been more beautiful.

“You don’t need flowers for that”

The kiss that follows is soft and full of meaning.

[iuvmi]

STRAWBERRIES

Pairings: Percy Jackson x fem! Demeter reader Percy Jackson x fem! Demeter reader

Warnings: small injuries and shy percy (??)

Summary: where the daughter of Demeter teaches Percy how to properly harvest strawberries

Word count: 864

A/n: requests are finally openn !!

WARM AND BRIGHT HUES fill the camp as the sun's golden rays emerge from behind the horizon at the crack of dawn. You rubbed your eyes as the sun’s light caressed your face with a gentle touch, illuminating your features. Checking the clock beside you, realizing that nothing was there, just a dull table lamp with decorated leaves. You groaned at the thought of missing your home. You continued to stare at the lamp as if it was mocking you. Pushing the blanket away from you, you saw that your half siblings were still asleep. You spent minutes getting ready as you changed into your orange shirt and jeans. With each step you take, the sunlight plays across your skin, casting delicate shadows that seem to dance in harmony with your movements. The windy morning breezed to your cheeks. 

There were some Apollo kids playing around in the camp, some of them practicing archery. You made your way to the camp's vast garden carrying a basket; rows of colorful flowers and lush plants welcomed you with a chorus of hues and scents.

As you got closer to the patch, you were excited to see plump red berries poking out from behind the leaves, but there seemed to be another person there as well. The moment you saw Percy Jackson standing at the garden's edge, your heart skipped a beat. With a pleasant smile on his lips, his sea-green eyes glistened with curiosity as he examined the strawberries.

"Hey," you called out, your voice carrying across the garden. "Don't just stare at those berries, at least help me?”

Percy's eyes widened, was he really staring at those fruits for too long? He grabbed one of the baskets and approached you. You started explaining to Percy how to properly gather the delicate berries as they walked around the strawberry rows. You demonstrated how to carefully grab the base of each strawberry and twist it off the stem, being cautious not to harm the plant.

“Alright, Percy, so when you're harvesting strawberries and other fruits, it's important to be gentle,” Percy listened attentively, his brow furrowing in concentration as he mimicked your movements. 

Percy smiled right at you. “Got it. Gentle. Like handling a Celestial Bronze Sword.” 

You respond with a giggle as you order Percy to pick strawberries. He obeyed your orders with great enthusiasm. Their laughter blended with the gentle chirping of birds above as they carefully selected the ripest fruit.

Percy thought he was holding ripe fruit as his fingers brushed against a particularly juicy strawberry. He slashed the berry from its stem quickly, only to discover, startled, that it was a mock strawberry with jagged thorns all around it. 

A faint trickle of blood welled up from a cut on Percy's finger where he had brushed against the thorns, and he took a sharp inhale.  

When you noticed the injuries, your eyes widened with concern, and you felt your heart skip a beat seeing how hurt Percy looked. “Shit, you okay?” 

He focused on the finger that was bleeding. “Yeah, it's just a little scratch,” 

“Let me see it,” You reached out for his finger. He backed away and shook his head. 

“It's really not that bad,” Percy hesitates, hiding his fingers that accidentally touched the fake strawberry thorns. 

Sighing, you approached him slowly. “It's better for me to heal it than you going to the Infirmary,”

With a wince, Percy extended his palm, the bright red of the strawberries standing out starkly against the blood staining his flesh. Examining the wound, you took his hand softly in yours, your touch calming and gentle.

"It's not too deep," you comforted him in a gentle manner. "But we should clean it up and put a bandage on it just to be safe."

You guided Percy to a bench nearby and, using delicate hands, dug through your pockets to find a bandage. Their eyes locked for a moment as she carefully cleansed and dressed Percy's finger, their warmth connecting them beyond the act of wound care.

Awkward silence fills the atmosphere as Percy's eyes are looking down. “I didn't know strawberries had thorns,” 

“It's fine, Percy. You're not burdening me,” you replied with a soft voice. 

Percy's cheeks flushed with a warm hue, a rosy tint spreading across his face like the first blush of dawn. His eyes darted away, unable to meet your gaze as embarrassment tinged his expression. “How — how'd you know that?”

“I just know. And you shouldn't be sorry, one of my half siblings mistook the Potentilla Indica for a true strawberry.” You let go of his hands and gaze upon the strawberry patch. Then, you heard one of your friends whistling at you. 

It was Silena Beauregard, child of Aphrodite. “[name], will you stop spending time with your boyfriend and help me out?” 

Now it was your turn to be embarrassed, you shook your head and got up. Picking up the baskets you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and ran towards your friend. You looked behind you as you saw him still sitting at the bench unable to move while smiling to himself.

©IUVMI :: please do not steal / translate / paraphrase my work. reblogging and liking my post helps <3

[pupkashi]

mistletoe-go

satoru comes up with a new holiday tradition

a/n: hi friends !! this is a silly little thing i thought of when i went to michaels the other day and saw their christmas decorations ! let me know what u guys think :3

wordcount: 949

masterlist

satoru sees an artificial mistletoe at the store one day, his eyes linger on it for a bit, walking past it and straight to what he needed to buy. the little plant lives in the back of his head the entire time he’s walking around the store, should he buy it? you guys had already decorated for the holidays, what’s one more thing?

he snags two of the small fake plants and adds them to his cart, smiling to himself as he pays for them, already planning on exactly where to put them.

you don’t notice it when you greet satoru in the living room, smiling at him and welcoming him home.

“did you find the right batteries for the lamp?” you asked, watching as he tossed the bag to the side, grabbing what looked like a clump of leaves and tying it up so it dangled from the ceiling.

“yeah i did, can you come look at this? wanna make sure you like the placement” he smiles, holding back his maniacal giggles as you step close and closer to him, until the two of you are finally under the plant. “oh would you look at that! we’re under the mistletoe” he grins.

you can’t help but smile, laughing at his antics and rolling your eyes lovingly. “that we are” you hum, leaning into him a bit, “you know what that means right?” satoru looks into your eyes excitedly, already leaning forward as his eyes dash from your eyes to your lips.

“kiss me sweetheart, it’s tradition” he mumbles, a small smile as you lean in closer to him, lips only centimeters apart when you abruptly stop. it makes his eyes shoot open and brows furrow, lips forming into a pout, “why’d you stop?” he whines.

“don’t you hate tradition?” you tease, watching as he rolls his eyes, one arm slipping around your waist and pulling you flush against him, the other slipping behind your neck as he crashes his lips into yours.

he pulls away with a satisfied smile on his face, eyes practically sparkling as you chase his lips for one last peck, pulling away from him. he doesn’t tell you of the extra mistletoe in the bag, opting instead to sneak it into his pockets, just in case.

it’s two days later when you’re sitting across the kitchen bar from him, mindlessly eating cereal and watching him making himself some eggs, your mind so focused on the muscles of his back moving you don’t see the outline of the faux mistletoe in the left pocket of his sweats. you don’t even register what he’s doing until he’s standing in front of you, fishing in his pocket and holding his arm up over the two of you.

you look up, eyes meeting the same leaves that were hung up only a couple feet away from the two of you. “did you take that down to put it in your pocket?” you laugh in disbelief, satoru only shakes his head proudly.

“i bought two, one for home and one to go,” he explains, leaning over the counter and placing his lips onto yours, you could taste his honey chapstick when you licked your lips after.

“isn’t the point for it to be, i don’t know, random? by chance? like the Christmas spirit bringing two people together?” you ask, twirling your spoon a bit, head resting in the palm of your hand, ogling your lover as he stretched, heart faltering when his abs flexed a bit.

“oh cmon sweetheart, fate already brought us together, i think the Christmas spirit can take this year off,” he smiles, “I’ll be sure to do the mistletoe-ing this year.”

satoru was true to his word, carrying the small decor item everywhere the two of you went. you were caught off guard the first time, you knew he was serious about ‘mistletoe-go’ as he called it, but you didn’t expect him to pull it out in front of the first years.

your face burned as you eyes went wide, satoru already puckering his lips to kiss you.

“ooooo sensei!” yuji teased, giggling, megumi and nobara had made face of slight disgust, still looking out of the corner of their eyes to see if gojo would get rejected.

“cmon sugar plum don’t embarrass me infront of my kids” he whispers, you roll your eyes at him, placing your lips onto his quickly, laughing when the students shout a mix of ‘ew’s and ‘aw’s.

satoru continue to pull the mistletoe out: at the grocery store, on walks together, anywhere around the house, even at a restaurant once.

everytime he’s act surprised, ‘who put that there?’ he’d say, a smile on his face as he furrowed his brows in faux concentration before sighing, ‘gotta do what you gotta do!’ he’s smile, leaning in, ready to catch your lips in his.

you’d indulge him everytime, not caring where you were. you’d both go in for a quicker second peck, smiling into it as you both pulled away. satoru always had pink dusting his cheeks afterwards, though he’d swear you were lying to him every time.

after such a successful first year satoru made it a tradition. mistletoe-go was something he looked forward to every year, never failingto remember, breaking it out earlier and earlier over time.

“this was the best purchase ever” he smiles, holding the bundle of leaves above the two of you.

“i don’t know those batteries were really great too” you tease, leaning in and pressing your lips to his, the familiar taste of his chapstick meeting your tastebuds.

you’d never admit it to him, but you loved mistletoe-go just as much as he did.

taglist (send and ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[greenleafgoddess]

Set of 4 airplant holders and 11 pieces of artificial plants , available for you to combine and match at will

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Fun, lively 1912 home in Los Angeles, CA has 6bds, 6ba, $3.2M.

Spacious living room has orange walls, a pink ceiling, and white trim.

Not every room, however, is bright. The dining room is a sophisticated gold with white trim.

The pink kitchen was redone with new cabinetry, although, even though I love pink, it just doesn't seem to do them justice. There's a little sitting area part of the kitchen, but I wouldn't call it a family room.

This apricot room is more of a TV room. If this home is cute, but if it wasn't in LA, it certainly wouldn't be worth $2.3M.

There is also a home office with a piano and a really big fan, which is unusual.

This 1/2 bath is a very fun space. I like this.

This is a main floor bedroom.

It has a renovated shower room done in retro tile.

This bedroom is large enough for a sitting area and it also has a stained glass window behind the bed.

The bath has access to a narrow outdoor area and it's got a nice mural on the ceiling.

In the pink hall, the doors are blue and the newel post is white w/blue trim.

The primary bedroom has an artsy headboard.

This bath has the same retro tile, but they painted the sink vanity yellow and lined the top of a cabinet in turquoise to give it a pop of color.

This bedroom has an interesting ceiling.

This bath was renovated, but has plain white tiles and is decorated with plants that I think are fake.

Of all the bedrooms, this yellow one with the purple and blue door is the most colorful.

The exterior of the home is special- there are movie themed murals on the fence, plus a patio with lots of plants.

It also has a nice pool surrounded by art.

This is so pretty and there's a little shed that could be a guest house and b/c it's possible to be outside most of the time in CA, it's not unusual to have beautiful exteriors.

The lot is .26 acre.

https://www.trulia.com/home/1701-n-orange-grove-ave-los-angeles-ca-90046-20794972

[eggluverz]

THE SWEETEST KISS

PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader

GENRE. fluff, roommate au

WARNINGS. reader is shorter than dan heng

WORD COUNT. 1k

SUMMARY. in which dan heng is a bit of a grinch, but you need help setting up the mistletoe for your christmas party and dan heng simply cannot turn you down. 

A/N. happy holidays everyone !! :> is it too much to ask to spend the holiday szn with dan heng? :/ wishing and dreaming~ hope you enjoy this lil fluffy drabble!! xx sof

Dan Heng was uncertain on how he felt about the cold. 

On the one hand, the cold winter nights provided a great excuse for him to stay at home or in the library all day. On the other hand, he couldn’t say he was too fond of all the holiday festivities around the coldest times of year.

To him, they felt more like a celebration of capitalism and disposable income rather than a holiday with a purpose. Of course, him expressing his admittedly pessimistic sentiments ended up with you hanging a Grinch poster on his door. 

Dan Heng both laughed and sighed when he saw it. You always knew how to get under his skin with the right amount of playfulness that never made him grow annoyed. As his roommate, perhaps it was a special skill you had developed over the months. 

“Don’t worry. That’s just so people know not to go into your room or disturb you tomorrow,” you explained with a cheeky grin.

“Sure.”

“It is!”

You were currently setting up the decorations for your upcoming holiday party after begging Dan Heng for his permission to use the common areas of the apartment as a place to host for one night. And while you may have inadvertently called him a Grinch, he certainly had no interest in actually ruining your fun. So he gracefully agreed.

You were his roommate who paid half the rent after all. Of course he would agree to what you want, even if it was a cliche and over-the-top holiday party. And it certainly wasn’t just because he liked seeing you happy and cheerful.

That was simply one part of it.

As the day turned dark, Dan Heng sat on the couch while researching how food waste contributed to climate change to destress for the night. He looked up from his laptop after hearing a few thumps on the floor only to find you struggling to hang up a mistletoe on the tall entryway of the living room. 

He hid a smile of amusement as you jumped and missed.

“We have a step-ladder out in the patio,” he supplied.

You puffed your cheeks up and continued on your mission. “Yes, but that’s extra work and it’s easier like this.”

Once again, you jumped, this time almost reaching the doorframe, but alas, falling a few inches flat. As you fell, so did a fake berry on the mistletoe. The two of you watched as it rolled off the stem.

“Is that so?” challenged Dan Heng.

There was a pause as another berry fell off at your movements. “Maybe.”

After a few more moments of watching you struggle, Dan Heng finally got up from his seat and extended his hand out. You looked at him curiously.

“Let me help,” he coffered, gingerly taking the mistletoe from between his fingers. It was made of plastic and covered in red and green glitter. The single plastic berry left looked like it was about to fall off at any minute if you had attempted to launch it onto the entryway even one more time. 

Beside him, he heard a stifled laugh. “Touching it won’t poison you, you know?”

“Yes, but it certainly will cause glitter to stick to me for at least a week.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

He smiled.

You handed him a few pieces of tape as he stood on his tiptoes to place the mistletoe on the entryway.

“Do you think it’ll hold like this?” he asked.

“With enough tape, anything can be held together.”

Dan Heng wasn’t sure about your claim, but he nodded along nonetheless.

“Is this spot okay?” 

“Perfect!” you clapped your hands and beamed up at him, a look of pure joy on your face as you stared fondly at the added decoration. As he took his hand away from the heavily taped plant, the remaining berry fell from the mistletoe and landed right in-between the two of you.

Your smile didn’t waver as you pretended not to see it. 

“Super perfect!” you said as if you were trying to convince yourself. 

He chuckled. Christmas might be a cash grab holiday with low-quality decorations being sold wherever you look, but he didn’t mind it so much when he got to see you like cheerful this. 

“Thanks for your help, Dan Heng,” you said appreciatively, dusting the copious amounts of glitter off your fingers.

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes darted around, zooming from the mistletoe on the ceiling then back to his face.

“Now, would you look at that,” you laughed sheepishly. “It seems we’re under a mistletoe. Does that mean we should…?”

“The mistletoe no longer has berries.” 

You blinked. “Sorry?”

Dan Heng breathed a noise of amusement. “The origins of the ‘kissing-under-the-mistletoe’ story includes taking the berries off the bush. For each kiss, a berry gets picked. When they run out, so does the kiss magic.” He gestured up at your fully green mistletoe. “No berries left here, therefore, there will be no bad luck if we don’t kiss.”

He saw the look of dejection on your face far before you covered it up with a laugh.

“Oh. Right!” You huffed and whispered under your breath, “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten the one on sale.” 

Dan Heng grinned as he realized the implication of your hidden words. “Holiday stories rise, we don’t need permission from a mistletoe to kiss.” 

Your eyes widened and the sad look on your face turned into one of hope and amusement. “I guess you’re right, but it does take away some of the holiday magic. Still, I suppose if I were to kiss you for the first time, I’d rather it not be due to the threat of bad luck from a mistletoe.”

His cheeks warmed as he nodded in response. “I agree.”

You giggled as you leaned in to kiss him, planting a gentle but firm kiss on his lips. Dan Heng smiled, returning one to you as well. He cherished the sound of the soft, happy sigh escaping your mouth, hoping this wouldn't be the last time he was allowed to witness it.

Mistletoe may be bitter and poisonous, but Dan Heng could safely say this was the sweetest kiss he has ever had. 

[thedevilrisen]

"Stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe!" with Jack please !!

Can do, angel! I have had two requests for this so I'm going to just mesh them into one!

You had just finished decorating for Christmas with your boyfriend Jack, you had put up the tree, hung the Christmas lights off the balcony and put little Christmas themed nick nacks you had found at target earlier.

While all the decorations were done, you felt like something was missing, more like smelt like something was missing. That's why you had told Jack you were heading out, jumped in the car and drove down to the grocery shop to purchase the ingredients to make gingerbread cookies!

What you hadn't anticipated was your boyfriend's evil streak to shine through while you were gone.

"Jack, I'm home!" you called out, kicking off your shoes in the entryway, and manovering around the dinning room table to get to the kitchen so you could place your bags down onto the bench.

"Hello, baby!" he smiled as he traipsed into the kitchen. You should of suspected something when he moved you to certain spot in the kitchen. "You've gotta kiss me."

"What?"

"Look up, baby." he spoke lowly.

Looking up you saw the clusters of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling fan.

"Jacky!" you laughed, faces moving in sync to get close enough so you could share a sweet kiss.

"I've go the stuff for cookies, want to help me bake them?"

"Yeah, I'll help!"

"Ok, I'll unpack the stuff and you go put on some Christmas music." you instructed, already starting to pull ingredients from the bag."

"Alright, but wait."

"What?" you asked as he pulled you back under the ceiling fan. Half laughing, half sighing you leant up and kissed him again. He pulled away with an excited grin and rushed off to presumably, retrieve his phone.

-

Once he was back, the Christmas songs blasting, and the bench covered in flour, Jack had made it a game to see how many times he could pull you under that piece of fake mistletoe plant.

Twice when you went to pre-heat the oven, once on your way there and once on your way back. Once when you moved to the sink to wash some of the sticky dough of your hand. Thrice as you put all the trays of gingerbread cookies into the oven. Twice while you were waiting for them to cook, and finally when you was trying to pull the burning hot trays of biscuits out of the oven.

"Jack!" you shouted "Stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe!"

"Wh-"

"I'm holding a burning tray of biscuits and could hurt someone with it." you reasoned "let me get them out, and while they're cooling, we can move the mistletoe to just above the couch."

"Now that's a compromise I'll take!" he said, reaching for the fake plant on the fan, grabbing it and running of to the living room with it.

-:-

Thank you requesting, hope you enjoy!

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

To Love You (Platonic Yandere!Child x Monster! Reader)

Chapter 2: The men in his life

[part 0, 1, here]

CW: femme bodied GN Reader, vulgar language, mentions of abuse, infidelity, unintentional manipulation

Stepping out of the shower felt no different than stepping into it. The wetness was felt, as the water was absorbed into their skin, but just as they could not feel the cold outside, they could not take comfort in the warmth of a shower.

Their home was.. quaint. (Reader) had to learn the concept of an apartment from their newly adopted son (the disgust they felt when they looked out at the building and believed the family lived in a hotel was visible on their face), and although they had their reservations, it wasn't nearly as pathetic as they assumed it would be. They had lived in poverty before, in a space larger than this, however there was electricity and heating; there was more fresh food than (Reader) knew was possible of storing, there were plants and plenty of clothes. Everything was very advanced, and it seemed as though life was much easier to live than before (even if they needed assistance with activating the shower).

Leaving faint footprints on the fake wooden floor, (Reader) saw family portraits both hung up and in standing frames on random shelving. Avery sleepily teetered over towards the monster, instinctively reaching out to grab their hand.

"I... did a truly terrible job of recreating her."

"Hm?"

"I look nothing like your mother."

Avery's hand flexed open for a millisecond before squeezing tighter. His face was scrunched in confusion, like his inability to process his own emotions was upsetting him. "I'm okay with that."

I'm sure you are. (Reader) glanced from Luanne to the man smiling next to her. But will he?

"What is your father's name?"

"Michael."

(Reader) picked up the drowsy child. His hair still smelled like the woods. "Is he a good man?"

The boy sagged, melting into his new "mother's" arms. "I mean, yeah? Mom yells at him a lot though.."

His room was decorated with comic book posters and action figures on every surface. The bed felt luxurious to the monster, and the blanket was expertly made, with intricate characters dyed into the fabric. They would later learn that it was a mass produced comforter, but at that moment it made them wonder who bought such an obviously expensive bed set for a child. If it was the mother, then why? She seemed to despise her son. And if it was the father, then that seemed to be a sign of good luck for (Reader). A kind and loving husband would probably be more welcoming to a previously hostile wife if "she" suddenly became equally as kind and loving.

Avery's tired eyes became unfocused as (Reader) tucked him in.

"Will you still be here when I wake up?"

(Reader) thought of Luanne. Her slightly crinkled skin under her eyes in the photos on the walls. The bright red lipstick on the bathroom counter and the perfume bottle in the medicine cabinet that reeked like her jacket and the skin she owned as (Reader) tore open her body.

"Yes." They were beginning to feel that they were just as confused as Avery.

This family was just a cover. And this family would eventually be nothing more than a meal.

But despite that, they still sat on his bed until the child fell asleep.

(Reader) almost went to investigate their own bed, when the front door opened very softly and slowly. Someone was sneaking in. They calmly changed direction in the hall, silently entering the living room to meet their new husband, who was quietly attempting to remove his shoes.

The monster watched him, his awkward movements as his heart loudly beat in his white collared shirt, and they felt a sense of unease. This was, clearly, Michael. It was the same man from the photographs. So why was he tiptoeing into his own home?

Michael took a shaky breath, calming his anxious heart, when he turned around and saw his wife, nearly experiencing a heart attack.

"Jesus, Luanne! Why're you just standing there?" His tone was accusatory despite the warm smile he had on his face. "I'm sorry I'm late, I got held up by that prick Donnie. Made me stay late to fix some fuck up that the new kid made.."

As he, loudly, approached the monster posing as his wife, they could smell him; and suddenly everything made sense.

He didn't even blink as he stared into his wife's eyes. There was no flicker of discomfort, recognition in his expression.. Michael couldn't tell that there was something off about Luanne.

His shirt smelled like chemicals and fruit and plastic and alcohol.

He leaned in to kiss (Reader).

They were used to kissing humans.

They never once enjoyed it.

But it was something they had to do.

To blend in.

However, when Michael opened his mouth it wasn't just cheap wine (Reader) could smell. It was slightly acidic. And they reared their head away in disgust.

Of course a man like this wouldn't have ever noticed that his wife was abusing his son.

"Your breath smells like another woman's cunt." They still expected Michael to finally notice that they weren't his wife, but even after hearing their voice it didn't seem to phase him.

"..Not this again." He abruptly spun away. "I just got home after a long day, can you not act like a crazy bitch for five fucking minutes?!"

He tossed his keys onto the little table by the front door as aggressively as he could without "throwing" them.

"I work so hard for you and Avery, and all you do is complain. How is that fair to me? You promised you wouldn't bring this up again, and yet here you are-"

"Avery and I were in an accident today." (Reader) cut him off. They didn't really want any sympathy from him, they just didn't want to listen to his pathetic moaning.

Their words seemed to shock him out of his tirade. "What? Is he okay?"

"Yes. However, I have a concussion.. the amb-u-lance doctors said that it was normal to experience some mild memory loss." They hoped their face appeared sincere. "I'm sorry. I thought I smelled something.."

Michael didn't seem to notice that his wife's speech had changed drastically. He reached out in a sympathetic manner, cupping their face with his hand.

"If it's that bad, why didn't they take you to a hospital?"

Ah.

"They suggested I go if my confusion worsens or if I developed any new symptoms."

He sighed through a grimace. "Well.. I'm glad you're alright."

(Reader) contemplated eating him.

"I see you've already showered.. why don't you go to bed, I'll be there in a second?"

You disgust me.

"I'm going to lay down with Avery. I'm still a little shaken up after the accident."

"How did it-?" Michael sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. We can talk in the morning."

He reached out again to hold (Reader), and it felt like mold growing on their skin when he planted a kiss on their forehead. His grip was tight on their shoulders, as if to prove that he could kiss them whenever he felt like it and they had no choice.

No; Luanne had no choice.

(Reader) flashed him a smile. He only smiled back.

What a prick.

They silently left the cheating bastard and returned to Avery's bedroom, where they could hear from his breathing that he had woken up and was doing his best to pretend to sleep. "May I lay down for a while?"

He didn't respond but scooted over to make room on his twin sized bed. The child was so small that it didn't cause much cramping to lie beside him.

"Avery?" It was plain curiosity. But a curiosity that was not appropriate when taking to a child. "Why didn't your father stop Luanne?"

Avery opened his large baby like eyes, staring up at (Reader's) unblinking ones. "What do you mean?"

"Did he ever ask you about your bruises?"

"Yes." He answered automatically before pausing, trying to recall a time when his dad may have noticed how mean his mom could be, and realizing that there was none. Every argument they ever had was about them. They were never about him. "No."

(Reader) wondered why they were probing their son. Maybe, deep down the know what they were doing: driving a wedge between them so (Reader) could eat the boy's father without regret. Yet, it didn't feel that way. They wanted to know. They were curious.

"I am not a human."

"..I know."

"My sense of smell is much greater than yours. As is my hearing."

"Really?"

They pulled Avery into a hug, whispering "I can hear your father's heart from the kitchen."

Instead of fear, this revelation seemed to excite the boy. "Really?!" He theatrically whispered back.

"I can smell.. a raccoon outside, climbing a tree."

A small gasp before a "You are a hero!" squeaked out of Avery.

"Avery." Their voice turned serious. "I can smell another woman on your father."

His breathing hitched. "What does that mean?"

".. Your mother was a very bad person for what she did to you. And your father.. he should have noticed what was happening."

Silence thickened between the two. The concept that his father failed him settled into Avery's tiny, six year old brain. Everything felt very complicated, and it was wearing him down. He felt more exhaustion than he felt in a very long time. "Will you protect me?"

(Reader's) mouth moved before the thought formed in their mind. "Yes."

After a very loud, one sided argument about the trashed vehicle, the monster was taking their new boy to school via the city bus. They understood that a motorized carriage must have been expensive, but their survival felt more important. On top of the irritation from an unnecessary "conversation" with their "husband", it stressed out Avery, who appeared to be distant with his father.

The city bus stunk of piss. It was disgusting, but Avery seemed impressed.

"Mom, there's my school!" He jabbed the window, pointing at a very large building,

"Is this a private institution?"

"Inst- insti- tush- ...no, it's a regular school?"

His face lit up with pride when his mom complimented his school, "It's impressive."

That is what they said, however, after exiting the bus and entering the school grounds, there was a very stern looking man glaring at (Reader) from the steps. He was about Michael's age, shaved bald sporting thick framed glasses and was smartly dressed. Upon seeing his frightening stare, they gently squeezed Avery's hand to catch his attention. "Do I know that man?"

"Yeah, that's Mr. Knight.." Avery sounded very quiet. "He's the counselor. He came over for a visit a few weeks ago."

"Why?"

"I don't know?" He lied.

The serious man's face completely changed when Avery drew near, cracking into a large, lopsided and toothy smile. "Good morning, Mr. Avery! How ya doin?" His voice was impressively deep, but (Reader) was more impressed by the fact that they had just realized there were children and teachers of all races entering the same building. They allowed themselves to smile widely, feeling a moment that was close to satisfaction: having been so many people, it was like joy and revenge all at once to be in the future.

But their smile fell when they looked back at the counselor, and recognized the emotion plastered on his form.

He saw (Reader's) smile, and he could tell that it was different.

He was not like Michael, who was so blind to his wife that he did not notice the change; this man saw their smile, and felt the fear, disgust, confusion, and discomfort that humans felt when they saw a fake human.

The uncanny valley.

Mr. Knight visibly shuttered before returning to his previous anger. "Good morning, Mrs. Jones." He spat out the name like it was vinegar. "I see you're personally escorting your son today."

(Reader) focused on keeping their face neutral.

Avery responded before the creature could. "We got into an accident. The car is getting fixed, so we took the bus."

Worry filled his dark eyes, returning his attention to Avery. "An accident? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, but Mom hit her head."

The sympathy he expressed was so plainly fake that it felt spiteful. "Well. Hopefully your injury wasn't too severe?"

(Reader) smiled again.

It made perfect sense. This man hated Luanne, Avery's real mother. But that woman was dead.

"I'm feeling much better now, thank you."

He involuntarily shivered at their voice. Even though he had no way of knowing that the mother was actually an ancient boogeyman forgotten by time, he clearly could feel it.

And while they respected that there seemed to be one adult who cared for Avery, they recognized that Mr. Knight would potentially be a headache for them in the near future.