#but this quick delivery was too good to skip

[nerdalmighty]

Leo loves and misses all his brothers equally <3

[astaroth1357]

The OM Cast as Househusbands

Inspired by my recent rant about domestic Solomon.

Contents: Pure fluff and unhinged roasts.

~♡♡♡~

Lucifer

A-tier. Generally a solid choice skill-wise.

Cooks decent, cleans well, budgets FANTASTICALLY, has a good list of connections/spells for all home repair, and even has a stern (but caring) parenting-style if so desired.

In short, Lucifer can run a house very well. He practically already does! Hope you like having a big, extended family because the brothers are coming with.

Really, the biggest downside to Lucifer is that you'll be constantly worried that he's bored... Man can run a house and then some. He probably has the daily chores done by noon, and then what?

He just has so much extra potential, is what I'm saying. Very "big, beautiful bird in a cramped cage" energy. But then again, maybe making him chill the fuck out and have a low-maintenance lifestyle for once is better for his blood pressure in the long run. Your call.

Mammon

B-tier. He ain't perfect, but he can learn quick.

If you can give Mammon anything, it's that he's a capable guy when he wants to be. He may not be good at cleaning up, cooking, or anything like that on his own, but with some encouragement...?

Big improvements made practically overnight! Shower him in praise and "thank you's" for every little thing he does and he'll start get greedy for it. Then he'll do even MORE around the house and he gets better each time.

Show him how to cook what you like, and he'll never forget. Remind him to fold up the laundry, and he'll get it done. Praise him for keeping the floors clean, then suddenly he's nagging YOU about tracking dirt on the carpet...

And he'll get so proud about it too... Like, he's your first man and you NEED him now. What would you ever do without him?? Now hand over your shirts because he has some ironing to do, dammit!!

The only downside is you'll have to handle the finances... The words "Mammon" and "budget" go together about as well as "grainery" and "match." He'll blow through it and then some. Earners beware.

Leviathan

Hovers around C-D tier. Levi can play the role of good househusband for a VERY particular kind of partner, otherwise he's a lost cause.

He is a surprisingly decent househusband ONLY when sufficiently motivated and playing out his "domestic slice-of-life" fantasies are that motivation.

He can cook (anime-inspired dishes), he can clean (if you convince him to treat the house like he does his figurine collections), he can even sew/mend (though the majority of what he makes may be cosplay related)!

He won't leave the house to shop, but deliveries are fine. He also can't keep to a budget that doesn't include a MASSIVE chunk carved out to maintain his otaku lifestyle. He'll throw a fit otherwise.

Really, Levi's biggest problem is that once those "domestic fantasies" become mundane, he'll get bored and go back to his shows and games again.

Anyone with him would need to keep feeding into his role with new "quests" or different tropes to try out like a DM running an irl campaign. Could be fun for a little while, but it'll be too much trouble for you both long term. Best give him a skip.

Satan

S-tier. Very good choice, and he's proud of that fact.

Cooks well, very conscientious of your needs, knowledgeable on many topics from recipes to home repair, actually knows how to do laundry in a timely manner... a very good man indeed.

100% the kind of husband who sees that it's going to rain, so he treks out to wherever the hell you are to make sure you have an umbrella. Can't have you getting sick.

Get him a cat and the house will become his own slice of the Celestial Realm. He'll even text cute pics/updates on what your cat is doing like they're your literal child.

Only downside is cleaning. He's a book horder and will argue until he's blue in the face to keep Every. Last. Pamphlet. An in-house library is a MUST and expect to need expansions. Otherwise, perfect man. Much approval to be had.

Asmodeus

B-A tier. Another decent choice, just a little eccentric at times.

Asmo is that partner who will happily play the part of the trophy househusband buuut he absolutely won't do anything too strenuous or dirty.

Cooking? Totally fine! He isn't amazing, but he's not awful either. Laundry? Say no more! Your clothes will never have a wrinkle again. But cleaning...? Like the floors, attic, or ESPECIALLY the bathroom??

Nope. Nuh-huh. His cute-ass hair and his cute-ass nails in his cute-ass clothes will not stand for it! He's going to beg for a maid immediately.

I guess in exchange you'll be hosting some killer dinner parties, though! Asmo has that "suburban wife who flaunts her amazing life" energy. Also keeping his influencer game alive with tutorials galore.

In short, Asmo is willing not just to spoil you, but elevate you as well. You just need to give him a little pampering in return, kay?

Beelzebub

B-tier. Most of his problems are, predictably, food related...

Beel really, REALLY tries but you are probably never going to have a meal on time (if there's somehow any food left at all).

It isn't that he won't cooking, arguably, he spends TOO much time cooking because he'll spend just as much time eating! Or running to the store because he ate the ingredients again...

Surprisingly, though, he's actually very good at cleaning and caring for another person. That's because it's what he does for Belphie. You think the seventhborn is picking up their room AT ALL? Don't kid yourself...

Probably a good time to point out that another downside (or perk??) of husband!Beel is you also get Belphie! But he's just as spoiled as ever so... Hopefully Beel's overwhelming amazingness will make up for that.

If you like Belphie and don't mind an empty cabinet, Beel is a good choice. If not, there are better options available, I promise.

Belphegor

D-tier. Shit househusband. Doesn't even try.

Won't clean, won't cook, won't shop, can't fix, can't budget, and don't even get me STARTED on the state of the sheets!!-

He is a decorative plant of a househusband. Meant only to make the room look nicer by his presence. I've seen dogs more capable and self-motivated to maintain a household than this man will ever be.

Should you somehow get him to exert the effort, he will whine and complain the entire time. And even then, he won't do much more than put some things away and order takeout.

The only upside to Belphie is that since he's always asleep, it's not like he's making the house any dirtier. Vacuuming around his unconscious ass is home life now. At least you probably get Beel too.

Diavolo

C-B tier. What he lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm.

So... he basically can't do anything but since he's never had to, you can cut him some slack. He loves the idea of TRYING though, so you have an eager student!

He finds cooking to be a fun challenge and he isn't terrible at it. Cleaning is a drag but he likes to see you happy. You'll have to teach anything laundry/clothes related, unfortunately, and sending him to the grocery store without a very detailed list may result in him buying an entire aisle if he doesn't know what to get.

At least he'll genuinely love to hear about your day and have the biggest smile and warmest greeting for you every time you come home. He's like a big'ol puppy, just thrilled with your existence!

(Honestly, if something has him stumped, he'll call for Barbatos to help. He'll try to hide it because he wants to show that he can do things himself, but at the end of the day your happiness wins over his pride. Now let the butler fix your plumbing.)

Barbatos

SS-tier. So good, it's literally not fair.

He's been caring for another person for centuries. He has every possible skill he would need permanently etched into his DNA. He is the Grand Master of Domestic Life that all others should strive for.

Meals are at perfect temperature by the time you sit at the table. The house is so spotless that you could eat off the broom closet. Anything that breaks gets fixed/replaced within the day. He even leaves words of encouragement in the little notes packed up with your lunch. You'll start to wonder if he's an angel who's infiltrated too deep....

Barbs also seems to have a sixth sense for whenever you've had a bad day. You come back dragging from exhaustion? You favorite meal is already cooked, the bath is ready to be drawn, and would you like a shoulder rub on top of that? Feel free to vent, he loves to listen to whatever stories you have to share!

There are only two downsides to Barbatos: the first is that you are absolutely sharing him still with Diavolo and the young master is his top concern. So sorry.

The second is that moment he gets even the hint that there may be a rat in the house, he'll nuke the place with all of your stuff still in it. So keep some traps out and keep'em fresh, yeah? You'll be fine.

Simeon

S-tier. He even comes with pre-installed parenting skills! (If you're into that kind of thing).

Simeon may not have Barbs' "live to serve" mentality, but he is truly an angel to a fault. The man already acts as Den Mother of Purgatory Hall, so what would you expect?

He cooks well enough to own his own business and you can't run a business without being good with your cash. He probably has book royalties too... Plus, he cleans up after Solomon's messy ass in canon, so-

He's gonna be that husband you take to the office party and nobody will leave you alone about him for the next week. People are going to ask if he has a brother or some shit (give them Raph's number, I dare you)

Admittedly, home repair (especially of the electronics he's guaranteed to break) should probably go to someone else. Also, he is a package deal with Luke. That child is your unspoken son now, and you'll just have to deal with that.

Otherwise, he's trophy material. Marry him and carry him over that threshold! He's worth it, truly.

Solomon

I've already ranted about Solomon here. But if you aren't aware, he's D-tier saved only by the fact that he's really trying his best.

800 year-old bachelor be like: "Oh, you're supposed to change those...? They don't smell that bad after a month."

"Of course those dishes are clean! Yes, I can see that there's still food on them, but I washed them with soap. That's what makes them clean."

"What do you mean, 'Don't set the table with beakers on date night?' Isn't this one your favorite??"

"Dinner's almost done, honey! Just let me finish clubbing this octopus!" 😁

Disaster husband. Just leave him to his delusions and get used to takeout...

[cottonlemonade]

A Simpler Life [Part 2]

word count: 1621 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Kita x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn

warnings: spoilers

synopsis: In pursuit of a calmer, simpler life you flee the city to move to the countryside - only to fall in love with your neighbor.

[part 1]

____________________________________________

Kita‘s steps quickened when your house came into view, his eyes searching the veggie patch for your straw hat but nothing. His shoulders drooped but he was glad to see the tomatoes doing well.

Maybe he should just knock and ask if you could spend dinner again together but he decided against it. You were probably busy or had better things to do. A light went on in your house and through the window he saw you lean over a small table with a mirror, applying some lipstick. From the little he could make out you wore a pretty black dress that hugged your curves so beautifully, his thoughts were temporarily disconnected. He had to swallow. You were going out. Looking down at his own dirty work clothes and touching the sweaty towel around his neck he let out a deep breath. Just as well. And feeling like he was being intrusive with his stares he continued his way home. As he walked along the dusty road, he remembered a seemingly endless discussion the twins had with Suna back in school that he was close enough to overhear. They talked about leagues and how Suna clearly was not in the same one as a girl he fancied. Back then Kita didn‘t quite understand what they meant since their volleyball team was amongst the best. How much more successful was that girl‘s team that Suna shouldn‘t even talk to her? But now it started to make sense. Rounding the bend, he entered his courtyard and spotted his dog on the porch, eagerly sniffing a familiar looking bundle.

But he had dropped it off this morning, he was sure. With a frown he walked over and picked it up. A note was tucked underneath the knot. “Seems like I made too much again - oops! Could you take this off my hands, neighbor? Y/n“

The bundle smelled heavenly and feeling the disappointment subsiding ever so slightly, he carried it inside.

The next couple of days were the same. He would walk by your house, maybe catch a glimpse of you through a window, sometimes he could talk to you for a few minutes when you were in the garden but unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to outright ask for your company and since you didn’t bring it up either he concluded that first time had just been a slip of your tongue.

But every evening without fail he came back to a new bundle of goodness, still warm, waiting for him on his porch under the watchful eyes and nose of his dog.

A new note accompanied each delivery and they already formed a small stack in his dresser drawer.

Every morning he would then drop off the cleaned box and bundle by your door, the same words as his first message written neatly on a sheet of simple, pretty paper.

“I tried a new dish with a recipe from one of the grandmothers in town. I hope you like it! - Also a quick question to a professional: I think my strawberries are dying. Their leaves are all crunchy and no matter how much I water them they seem to wilt. Thoughts? - Y/n”

He got up even earlier the next morning than usual and headed to his smaller greenhouse that kept some fruit and veggies he liked to have growing year round for his own personal use. After swiftly filling a basket with strawberries, he made his way to your home to drop them and the bundle off alongside a detailed note on what could be done about your plants before he headed to work.

“Kita-saaan!“

The young man stood up, looking around to see who called for him.

His stomach flipped when he saw your lovely figure standing on the road at the side of his field, waving. Today was another scorching hot day. You wore a light summer dress and your straw hat that he found so endearingly bewitching. He returned your wave and held his breath when he saw you pushing your bicycle along the trampled little dirt path between the neighboring field, obviously not bothered by dirtying your sandals a little. He waded out of the rice paddy to meet you.

“I ought to be mad at you.“, you said as a way of greeting him and he stopped short. Then you reached into the basket of your bicycle and took out a small bag.

“Those strawberries must be worth a fortune and there were so many of them, I can hardly finish those by myself.“

He relaxed and began to breathe again. You had cut some of the strawberries into bite-sized pieces while others topped freshly baked pastries. Lastly, you took out a glass bottle of milk, dyed slightly pink by the strawberry puree gathered at the bottom. “Do you think you have time for a little break?“

The pastries were, of course, delicious. He didn‘t expect anything else from whatever you prepared at this point. But as you two ate in the shade of a tree his mind was trying to figure out how to ask you about the other night. About you in that dress.

“Are you alright?“

He looked up from his cup of milk and met your eyes.

“What have ya been up to this week?“

“Hmm, nothing much.“, you said, spearing one of his strawberries on a skewer and pushing it between your lips. He could watch you enjoy his produce for hours, would happily spend the rest of his life feeding you just to see that blissful look in your eyes.

“I went to a friend’s birthday in the city. Let me tell you, even though I haven‘t been here long, I already missed the peace and quiet as soon as I got out of the taxi. It was the right decision to move. I‘m… so much happier here.“

He was pretty sure he had never been this relieved in his whole life. Looking at his cup of milk again he tried to hide a smile. “I‘m glad to hear that.“, he said.

Comfortable silence stretched between you like a cat in a sunbeam.

“I was wondering…“, you said eventually, “if you‘d like to come over for dinner again. Of course, if you‘d rather have the evening to yourself th-“

“Yes.“, he interrupted, then cleared his throat and continued, “That sounds great. I‘ll bring by the materials for that planter and set it up for ya.“

He was rewarded with another of your dazzlingly bright smiles.

The wheelbarrow gently wobbled over the many rocks and divots on the dirt road leading to your house. In it wooden planks as well as extra soil were stacked expertly and six little sugar snap pea starters were swaying back and forth on top.

When he arrived you were already waiting in your front yard, dressed for work, saluting when he halted. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts again.

“Alright, where do we start?“

“This‘ll only take 10 minutes.“, he waved you off.

“But if I help it might only take 9. Or… 30, depending on how much I slow you down.“

Kita laughed.

“Okay, but ya‘ll need gloves. The wood could splinter.“

“Oh. I don‘t have any.“

He reached into his back pocket and took out his pair, holding it out to you.

“What about you, though?“

“I‘ll be careful.“

It really didn‘t take long to connect the four pre-cut pieces with each other. Kita drove the long nails efficiently into the wood while you held the planks, trying not to get too distracted by the muscles in his shoulders and forearms. How could someone be this kind and generous? And handsome! And single!? Were the women in this town blind? But then again you did bring down the age average quite significantly…

“Y/n-san?“

His voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He held his hand out to you. For a confused moment you didn‘t know what to do and just took it. And Kita… he blushed.

“I asked for the other nail, please.“

“Oh my gosh, yes. Sorry. Uhm, here.“ You hastily pulled your hand away, your face burning bright red, and handed him the next nail.

Soon you were filling up the space with the soil he brought and planted the little starters. Using bamboo sticks and twine a makeshift trellis was quickly added and you stood up to admire your handiwork. You grinned and took off his gloves, holding up your hand for a high five.

When he raised his right you squinted and took it in yours.

“You did get a splinter!“, you scolded, “Man…! Come on.“

And you dragged him inside.

Kita thought he might explode at any second if you kept touching him. After carefully washing his hand and holding it under a steady stream of lukewarm water you pulled him over to your couch and asked him to keep his hand under the light of a small lamp on the side table. Rubbing down a pair of tweezers with some sake from your pantry you knelt in front of him, bringing his hand so close to your face he could feel your warm breath tickle his skin. It was quite maddening. Never had he felt such a strong desire for action. His whole body was tense like a taut bowstring. He held his breath while you worked, soft careful fingers rubbing and squeezing his calloused hand. He didn’t even notice the sting when you disinfected the spot after. But his skin burned when you applied a bandaid, gently smoothing out the corners.

“All done.”, you announced and got up to put the supplies away. He let out his breath, flexing his hand.

____________________________________________

art: coloring done by @keiko-chan

[part 3]

[ijustwanttoreadfanfiction]

Working Lunch

Jim Hopper x AFAB! Reader

Plot? What Plot? It's straight up Hopper porn. It's not alluded to in this story but Reader is younger than Hopper like late 20's to his mid 40's as I'll probably string this, the Dirty Dancing story and others to come into a linked series of oneshots.

Warnings: Smut with a capital S, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (F receiving), p in v sex, creampie, rough sex, rough Hopper, size kink - we live for Dad bod! Hopper, semi-public sex? Light choking? Do better warnings shithead.

It’s a slow day at the diner, mostly due to the beautiful day outside, sun blazing in through the windows, making the vinyl booths almost too hot to the touch. You let out a huff, it’s bad enough that you’re missing the sunshine, but you’re also missing Hopper. The two of you have been super busy with work, helping Jane study, trying to fix up the cabin, most evenings you’re both so tired you crawl into bed with only a small kiss or two before succumbing to exhaustion. You thrive on affection, something that Jim was usually only too eager to give, so you’re feeling significantly touch-starved and needy.

You wonder what Jim is doing right now, it’s almost lunchtime, you knew from Flo that’s he’s barely been stopping to eat and when he does it’s usually from the station’s giant tray of donuts. A devious little idea starts to form in your mind, you could take Jim some lunch and maybe, just maybe get some attention whilst you’re there.

“Hey Donna, would you be ok for half an hour if I take some lunch over for Hop?” You ask your colleague, who is currently overfilling the sugar dispensers in a daze.

“Oh, sure sweetie take the time you need, it’s not exactly Grand Central.” She smiles, gesturing to the empty tables as you quickly make up a BLT, shoving it into a paper bag.

“Call me at the station, if it picks up.” You say, pressing a grateful kiss to her cheek.

The midday sun hits you in a stifling wave, heat gathering about your ankles from the burning sidewalk, you’re glad to be wearing your light pink work dress as you skip across the street towards the station.

It’s barely cooler in the building, despite the numerous fans humming and grating on every available surface, Flo has her nose pressed into a gossip magazine when you clear your throat.

“Hey there hunny, you here to see the Chief?” She smiles indulgently at you.

“Just thought I’d bring him some proper lunch for once.” You say shaking the bag.

“You’re too good to him, you know that?” Flo reminds you affectionately.

“I know.” You laugh, heading down the corridor, waving at Powell in greeting from where he’s stood by the xerox machine. 

  The door to Jim’s office is shut, no doubt to keep Callahan from bothering him incessantly, you knock smartly on the wood, buzzing with excitement to see the man on the other side.

“Yeah?” Jim grunts and you roll your eyes at his manners opening the door, he’s pouring over some paperwork, head in his hands not having bothered to look up, the air stale with cigarette smoke and coffee.

“Special delivery for Jim Hopper.” You chime, shutting the door with your butt.

His head shoots up straight away, the deep frown of concentration on his face morphing into a beaming grin that makes your heart swell and sputter. 

“Well this is a surprise.” Jim says happily, pushing his chair out, moving quickly around the desk. His large hands envelop your waist pulling you close, you wouldn’t be surprised if the heat from his palms burn a hole through your dress.

“It’s lunchtime, can’t have the big, strong, Chief of Police going hungry.” You smile, holding the paper bag aloft.

“You’re too good to me.” He murmurs, giving you a quick peck on the lips.

“You know it’s funny, Flo said exactly the same thing.” You tease, chasing his lips for a kiss of your own.

“She did huh?” Jim asks, eyebrow cocked, hands drifting down past your waist to cup your ass. “Well I can’t have my best girl going around thinking she’s underappreciated can I?” He teases, bringing you flush to his body, kissing you hard.

Your head is spinning as his tongue licks into your mouth, threading your fingers through his hair, moaning softly as he manhandles you, lifting you to sit on the edge of this desk. Jim hitches your dress up, hands disappearing under the fabric to rub along your thighs, his lips quirk up in a cocky smile when he coaxes another soft moan from your throat.

“So eager baby girl.” He croons, sinking to his knees in front of you, finger hooking at the waistband of your panties dragging them down slowly revealing your wet core. “Jesus baby, I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping for me.” Jim groans, placing heated kisses to your inner thighs, up and up, until his nose nudges at your sensitive clit, tongue swiping through your creamy slick before pushing in.

“Jim!” You gasp, head thrown back, fingers tugging at his short hair.

He growls against your cunt, hands grabbing at your ass, dragging you forward so his tongue fucks you deeper. You bite your lip to keep from crying out, aware that the majority of the Hawkins’ Police force is just on the other side of the door, but it’s hard to concentrate when Jim is lapping at your pussy in such a sinful way. Two thick fingers replace his tongue, stretching and scissoring, making you ready for his cock, the tip of his tongue now firmly focused on your sensitive clit, circling insistently.

Your body seizes, shivers wracking up through your spine as your orgasm pulses from your belly down to your curled toes and back again.

Jim is on his feet, frantically unbuckling his belt, unleashing his thick, girthy cock from the straining confines of his uniform, the tip ruddy and leaking heavily with pre-cum. You can only reach for him, with hooded eyes, head tucked into his neck as he leans over you.

“Fuck.” Jim grunts, lining himself up with your weeping slit, pussy stretching with a delicious burn as he works his way in. You already feel impossibly full, whimpering with each thrust, the edge of the desk digging into your back, your nails biting into Jim’s shoulders.

“You feel so fucking good baby.” He groans, hauling you up to his chest, capturing your lips in a messy kiss.

“Hop, fuck, want you to bend me over your desk.” You whine, licking the sweat from his exposed throat.

“Oh fuck, you’ll be the death of me.” He says in awed disbelief, pulling out, flipping you over and slamming back in, in one fluid motion, flicking your dress up over your ass so he can see his cock piston in and out. His large hand strikes the back of your thigh, leaving a welting red mark that makes you squeak, the sting only sending you closer and closer to your climax again. Papers, pens and clutter falling to the floor with the force of Hopper’s movements, fucking into you without hesitation, drunk on the tight, wet heat of your pulsing cunt.

“Jim, baby, I’m so close.” You whimper, tucking a hand between your legs to rub at your clit, feeling his heavy balls slap against you.

“Oh Jesus.” He huffs, his grip on your hips sure to leave bruises, there’s a knock at the door but Jim doesn’t stop if anything he drills into you harder than ever. “Go away - I’m busy!” He yells, breathing heavily.

“Yeah - Chief I have a question abou-”

“Callahan - if you don’t step away from my fucking door right now - I will fire your sorry ass!” Jim shouts and you have to stifle a giggle, which cuts off abruptly into a strangled moan as Jim presses against throat, hauling your back to his chest. “Something funny baby girl?” He growls in your ear, biting down on the sensitive lobe.

“Jim -” You whine brokenly, he bats your hand away from your clit, circling with his rough thick fingers.

“That’s it doll, come on my cock, lemme feel you squeeze me.” He encourages, voice rough and low.

The tight band in your stomach snaps, wave after wave of burning pleasure coursing through you, making your legs shake.

“God fucking dammit!” Hopper chokes, snapping his hips in staggered thrusts, his cum filling you to the very brim, leaning heavily against your back, trying to put his weight onto the desk, panting from exertion.

“Jim -?” You murmur weakly.

“Yeah baby?” He asks breathlessly, rubbing soothing circles over your back.

“We squished your sandwich.” 

[strugglingwriterwattpad]

Walter Deville teaser

As she tightly gripped the entrance door, her heart skipped a beat as the melodious sound of her mobile ringtone echoed in her ear. With a sense of intrigue, she glanced at the screen to find an unfamiliar number glowing brightly. Without hesitation, she swiftly answered the call, her voice filled with a hint of curiosity. "Miss Stoker speaking," she uttered, her hands instinctively seeking warmth within the comforting embrace of her coat. “good evening, Miss Stoker. I am calling on behalf of my employee Lord Deville. The Lord has taken quite a liking to your recent paintings and would request to purchase every single one of them.” As she received the quick and emotionless request, a chill ran down her spine, sending shivers of anticipation through her entire being. It was a request that held the power to ignite her creative soul. Each and every painting from her recent collection flashed before her eyes, their gothic designs and dark colours dancing in her mind's eye. The numbers representing their worth swirled around in her head, filling her with a sense of exhilaration and joy. “Sir apologize for the silence. But I you sure you have the right artist. My pieces aren’t exactly the most popular pieces on the market.” She stuttered finally having the strength to enter the gallery and head to her office.

“ I am very sure mam. Lord Deville has been captivated by the pieces for some time now and has sent over a contract to your public email address.” (Y/N) eagerly unlocked her laptop and dove into her overflowing inbox, her heart pounding with anticipation. And there it was, like a beacon of hope, the subject line that caught her attention, illuminating the screen with its splendour. As her eyes met the dazzling digits of the price, a surge of excitement coursed through her veins, causing her sparkling eyes to widen in sheer delight. “this all seems too good to be true sir. I will have a read through the email and get back to the lord as soon as I'm done.”

“very well mam. We hope to hear from you soon.” As the old butler hung up the old-fashioned phone he looked back at his master with a poised nod. “it is done, my lord. Miss Stoker will read over the contract now.” In the dimly lit confines of Carfax Abbey's office, a solitary candle cast eerie shadows upon the vintage desks. The lord of the manor, an enigmatic figure, sat upright and impassive, poring over the printouts of (Y/N)'s website. “is it really here sir? Has our lady finally returned to us?” the butler spoke still keeping his emotions locked away. “it would seem so Mr. Fields.” the lord muttered. Finally, his old laptop flashed with a new email from the woman he had longed to see for centuries. “dear lord Deville. I am very pleased with the proposal sent to me. Unfortunately, the pieces have one more day in my personal gallery, but I can assure you after tonight’s event, I will have them sent of to your manor as soon as possible. I will send you over delivery reports once sent over. Warm regards Miss Stoker.” As Lord Deville's eyes scanned the message, a sly smile crept across his face. His heart, once as cold as ice, began to thaw with excitement. However, he knew better than to reveal his emotions just yet. He would keep his composure until he had his beloved back in his arms, where she belonged. As he sat in the dark, his fingers gracefully twirled the golden ring, its presence on his long finger a testament to his patience. With each rotation, the jewel embedded in the ring shimmered, mirroring the sparkle that once danced in her eyes, a memory etched in his heart.

[starrycassi]

Out of character.

Andrew is the last person that one would expect to be insecure about himself. But, sometimes, some days, some nights.

Or the one where Nicky indirectly causes his cousin's marriage.

.

When Neil wakes up, the air is wrong.

Instinctively, he checks his own pulse, to make sure that he isn't having a heart attack. He isn't, so, that is good. He checks his own breathing, sits down in bed and looks around, makes sure that his body is okay. Or as okay as it can be after a specially rough night in the rink. US against Canada, the match of the year.

They won, so, that is good. His inner health is okay, also. No signs of any panic attacks coming, or anything of the sorts. Betsy taught him how to identify them.

The air is still wrong.

He takes a deep breath. It isn't the putrid, nose-clogging, overly sweet fragrance he is used to, and that's not good. It isn't sugary syrup and chocolate pancakes, it isn't colorful cereals and strawberry milk. It isn't anything Andrew usually ate for breakfast.

That sets off all his alarms. That was not good. Andrew, like him, has good days and bad days and days when eating is too much of a task for him to perform and he ends up just wanting to sleep in all day. Neil takes care of him, those days. Brings him food, water, and tries to be as quiet as possible throughout the day. If he can't do it, Renee will, and if they can't, Kevin will, and sometimes even Aaron shows up. Nicky's living in Germany now, but he makes sure to video chat often enough.

It's 8 am, already. Neil usually wakes up earlier. He runs out of the bed and into the kitchen, worried. What if it is too late, too late to cook, too late to bake, too late to order delivery, too late to call for an ambulance, too late to give him cpr, too late to-

Andrew is just sitting there, peacefully. In front of him, a bowl of salad. He's eating it

That is weird. Neil's brain doesn't have enough information about the situation to actually do anything. He locks his eyes in Andrew's face, and stares.

Andrew looka up, places his fork down in the green-filled bowl, and smiles.

That isn't good. Oh, God.

Neil suddenly feels so, so lost. He's seen Andrew smile a hundred times before. Under the meds, he smiled all the time; after that, just in a couple of very quick, small gestures on very certain events. A "blink and you'll miss it" situation.

This isn't genuine. This looks copypasted, and suddenly they are 19-ish again, sitting at the bleachers of the PSU exy's court, Andrew smiling at nothing and Neil frowning at him.

"Did you sleep well, honey?"

Wrong. Andrew's voice usually doesn't sound like that. He never says "honey". His tone is off. Is he mad? Playing a prank? Neil's heart skips a beat. The only logical explanation is that, somehow, in the middle of their slumber, Katelyn and him swapped minds and this man in front of him is, actually, Aaron. But this is his mind, and his body, and his house, so not that.

The other suitable theory is that Andrew was been cloned by idiot aliens in his sleep. That seems better.

"Neil? I asked... I asked if you slept well, baby?"

Neil takes one step back.

Andrew and him are not some sort of loveless, tragic, doomed marriage. They are a happy "technically we're secretly married just for the legal and tax benefits" couple, and Andrew is a lovely "technically" husband. He brings Neil new notebooks with funky covers for him to do maths and doodle on, he makes sure that Neils running shoes are in their best shape and a pair is always by the door and ready to be used, he buys electrolytes and a lot of vegetables he doesn't even like, he does small, little things, everyday, to make his "technically" husband's life better.

He never, EVER, calls him baby, though. As a joke, perhaps. When he wants to point out his stupidity and immaturity. Never as a pet name.

This is wrong.

Andrew, smiling, squinted at him. He isn't wearing his glasses. He isn't in his usual outfit. There was more skin showing than it would usually be. Andrew wore pants and long sleeves whenever he could, and this isn't exactly a babydoll, but he's wearing nothing more than his boxers and a wife-beater that belongs to Neil and looks way too tight and a bit too long on him.

He gets up, his smile carved into his face like a curse to bear and not the blessing to witness it usually was. He walks straight to Neil, and his eyes look completely out of it.

Neil should've dealt with things better. Realize that his "technically" husband is intoxicated. But instinct overtakes him, and in less than two minutes, he hastily puts on a pair of running shoes and leaves the house without a word.

He's a shitty "technically" husband.

To try and amend that, he stops in a park that he knows well by now, takes a few deep breaths, and calls Betsy Dobson.

.

Calling Betsy Dobson is one of his least favorite activities. That means something is wrong, and he kikes it when things are good.

(Andrew banned the word "fine" from the household. Good was an easy replacement)

So Neil calls Betsy and explains the situation with guilt, because leaving Andrew alone was a shitty move, Betsy confirms she will call Andrew, and Neil runs back to the house. Betsy calls him back in the middle of the way, says that Andrew's safety isn't compromised, and tries to get him to talk about himself and his feelings about the situation.

He hangs up.

He gets to the house in record time. The 20 minutes it usually takes him to return from the Gardenia Park turned into ten minutes, minutes crushed under his shoes, under his desperation to get back, under the curses at himself for his reaction, under his attempt to think about what is going on, and his many illogical ideal on how to deal with it.

Perhaps he shouldn't hang up on Dobson, in the future.

It's strange, but relieving, to see Andrew, his Andrew, open the door. Black sweater, grey sweatpants, glasses, Andrew. Mildly annoyed, quiet, Andrew. His "technically" husband. His lover. The man he loves. Really, actually, literally, loves.

Andrew rolls his eyes at him and his whole appearance, scowling, and the world is back on track, "Feeling better, rabbit?"

He moves from the door and Neil gets in, smiling. Yeah. Better. Rabbit is a lovely pet name. He likes it. Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit. He likes it. The world is spinning again.

"A bit. Feeling better, geumbal?"

Andrew stays silent, probably trying to remember what the foreign word means.

But that's fine. Uh, good. That's good. Neil drops himself on the couch, panting a bit. This was an extremely confusing situation, and he's beginning to question if it was real or he ran too much and his lack of oxygen made him halucinate or something when Andrew sighs, heavily, and asks, as a force of habit, "Yes or no?"

It's always a yes, and Neil says so. Andrew sits down next to him, and they aren't cuddling, but this is everything Neil could ever possibly have

"So..."

Andrew sighs, again.

"I'll say this, once. Coach sent us some vodka to celebrate yesterday's thing. I drank. Nicky called. He gave me some advice and I was intoxicated enough to try and follow it"

Neil can't help but burst out laughing.

The idea of Nicky trying to give Andrew some love advice is incredibly funny, but Andrew doesn't laugh, or chuckle, or call him stupid or something. He tenses his jaw and looks at the wall, and that's not good.

"I'm glad it was amusing to you, Josten"

"You're technically a Josten too, you know?"

That usually does it. Andrew turns around and Neil acts like he can't see the blush on his "technically" husband's face. Or he calls Neil a ridiculous sap. Or he vaguely says something about divorce rates on same sex couples.

Dobson would want them to talk about things. Andrew would probably listen to her advice and they'll do it anyway. So, might as well.

"Truth for truth. Yes or no?"

Andrew looks at him, lifting his eyebrows. He looks somewhat impressed. It's a spark, and then it's gone. They haven't been playing that, lately. They live, work and sleep together. There's no room for a lot of secrets.

"Yes. Ask"

Neil nods, and gets himself ready. He tries to think about the best, most cohesive way to word his question. Over the years, he's gotten better at covering all his bases in a single question, so Andrew can't claim that he should ask smarter questions if he wants better answers. But his brain is acting weird, and he hasn't eaten anything yet, and he's now used to breakfast, which, isn't it crazy, that Neil Josten is used to breakfast? And that someone usually cooks it for him? And that they share it, calmly and in silence, just because they're both free to do so?

"What led you to listen to Nicky when, before, you never really did that, even drunk or drugged?"

It's a bit of a tongue twister to spit out, but he manages just fine. Andrew frowns some more, and sighs, again. He looks everywhere but at Neil. He's ashamed. Sad. He's uncomfortable. But, he tells himself, he said yes, and this is Neil, and Neil would never hurt him on purpose. And he wants this. He wants to talk about it. And isn't it so crazy, that Andrew Minyard is going to talk about himself? And that someone will listen to him? Just because this is what they both want?

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not perfect. And even more contrary to popular belief, I am aware of that. I know that I'm not the most pleasant person to be around. I was thinking about it, these days, you know, with the legal paperwork and that. I guess I want to change a bit. For the better"

It's nice, to say it to someone who isn't Bee. It's nice, to look into Neil's eyes and see the millions of emotions running under them. It's nice, to know that 14-yo Andrew Doe would never believe he can say those words to someone. It's nice, to know that 20-yo Andrew Minyard would never want to say those words to someone. It's nice, to be Andrew Minyard-Josten, and simply sit on the sofa and talk things through with his lover. It's nice, to have a lover he actually loves, and wants, and chooses.

Neil leans in, and he mutters the question, and Andrew says yes because he fucking wants to and not because someone is holding a knife to his throat or something like that. They kiss, slowly, with feelings and all that sappy bullshit Andrew Doe wanted to have. They kiss, kindly, and they're so close that Andrew Minyard would have a panic attack and lash out. They kiss.

Then they take a break to breathe. Andrew asks and Neil says no, whispering and chuckling like an idiot, and Andrew may be blushing from the heat of the moment, but he moves away from Neil because they're both safe here. Safe to say yes. Safe to say no.

"I just- I want my question. Ask me again after that"

Andrew doesn't really need to think this one through. His mouth moves before his brain does, vomiting his biggest worry at the moment.

"If you could, what would you... change, in me?"

It's a question he never planned on saying. It feels weird. Like someone else, some lovey dovey married moron, said it. But perhaps that's the kinda person he's becoming. After all, to be loved is to evolve, or something like that.

Neil hums in silence, and Andrew is AJ, Andrew Doe, Andrew Minyard and a ball of anxiety all at once, and then, "Well, full honesty? There's something I'm fucking tired of. I think it's utter bullshit"

And he gets down on one knee. And they didn't do this. They did the legal paperwork, but never this, not this, and Andrew can feel his heart stopping and his idiot of a soon-to-be-again husband has absolutely no ring but that's fine, that's fine because he has Andrew's heart and what else can they fuckin need?

"Andrew Minyard Josten. Yes, or no?"

He never planned this. He never even allowed himself to dream about this, but, God, he's earned it. He wants this, and the "technically" thing was getting old and the sun is coming from the windows and Neil looks somewhat like an angel and they're thirty already and isn't this so weird when did they turn thirty he never planned to make it this far and it's like ten am already and neither one of them's had an actual breakfast and they're both in pajamas and-

"Yes"

And they go back to the whole kissing thing.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

25 scenario with Xhekaj?

Lazy Days In

Arber thankfully had a blissful two days off from any practice or games and he was beyond ready to sit at home and do completely and absolutely nothing. He knew the universe was further on his side for that plan when he found out that you also didn’t have any work or class to go to and he could spend all his time with you. 

You wake up in a tired haze, blinking a couple of times and shifting in bed only to realize there’s still a weight around your waist. You turn over with a soft smile and see Arber already awake and looking at you. 

“Hi bear,” you murmur, voice thick with sleep. 

“Hey sugar,” he says back, your heart skipping a beat at the nickname. 

“How’d you sleep?” 

“Good,” he whispers. 

His hand comes up to trace random shapes on your back and you nuzzle further into him, your head resting just below his shoulder. His breath fans your face and your eyes instinctively close at his soft touch. 

“Wanna order breakfast?” he asks again after a moment and you nod against him. 

You feel Arber retract an arm and you whine at the loss of warmth. He chuckles quietly as he grabs his phone and opens the delivery app. He clicks on your favorite restaurant and adds his own order before handing the phone over. As you add your food, Arber presses soft kisses from your forehead down to your neck and you shiver in delight. 

“Focus, lover boy,” you tell him and he smiles before plucking his phone from your hand. 

He orders the food and drops his phone on the nightstand once more. He rolls over in bed, arms placed next to your head, caging you into his embrace and you smile widely up at him. He returns the look, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. You sling your arms around his neck and he moves against you slowly, your heart being the wildly fast contrast to his steady touch. 

You and Arber stay like this for a couple of hours, trading kisses, eating breakfast, and generally lounging the morning away. You end up taking a nap for a bit and wake up to the sun setting and Arber already awake and sitting on his phone. 

“Hungry?” he asks, looking down and smiling when he sees you awake. 

“Starved.” 

He gets up out of bed and just as you start to follow him, he scoops you up into his arms bridal style and starts to carry you out of the room. You giggle ridiculously, dropping your head on his chest and enjoy the moment until he carefully places you down on the kitchen counter but not without a quick peck to your lips. 

He walks over to your fridge and begins pulling out ingredients to make some sort of pasta as you queue up a random playlist to float around in the background and you and Arber pass the cooking time by discussing random topics and plans for a somewhat more productive tomorrow. Dinner passes by the same way and you clean the dishes while Arber takes your place on the counter this time. 

You set down the last dish on the drying rack and as you wipe your hands off on a towel, you feel two arms wrap around your waist in a strong hold. 

“Hey bear,” you murmur and he grins against your neck. 

“Dance with me sugar.” 

You turn in his arms and your hands slip around his neck, pulling him closer as his body bends to meet yours. 

“I love you so much,” Arber whispers and the words make you want to squeal in delight like you just won the lottery. 

“I love you too bear.” 

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

P&C | Ch. 15: You Don't Want Me?

➪ Playlist (Spotify) l Series Masterlist

11 p.m. 

“OH MY GOD, how I missed the feeling of fresh air,” Tae whines, virtually sprinting out of the hospital. It has been a month since we were placed in the labour and delivery unit, but, the adjustments to the hectic workload have yet to be made. All I can say is that nursing is not for the weak. We have weekly clinicals on Mondays and Fridays, each lasting eight hours. Because Tae and I are both night owls, we picked the night shifts. I would rather be dead on a stick than wake up at 5 am to work for free. 

“Tae, be careful it's dark out there,” I yell out from the entrance, shivering in my scrubs. He looks like a child, skipping side to side, waving his hands at the passing airplane in the sky. 

“Miraya, hurry up, the train is gonna leave soon,” Tae says, before pulling my backpack over his shoulder. He doesn’t have a car and I don’t have my licence so in terms of transportation, we rely on the late-night transit system. All is good until we stumble upon people who have consumed too much alcohol or indulged in some illegal substances at our station.  

“Stay close to me, ok?” Tae whispers as the train doors lock. Putting on my earphones, I lower my head, eyes focused on the Pepsi can rolling down the aisle. Succumbing to the fatigue I can feel my eyelids getting heavy, before dozing off on Tae’s shoulder. 

--

Knock Knock Knock 

Shifting in my bed I let out a deep sigh as my body trembles from the long stretch. The sun is barely out as the clock strikes 6 a.m. Making my way towards the door, hair in a messy bun and body covered in a Hello Kitty robe I look at the peak hole. 

“Jungkook, what on God’s green earth are you doing here?” I whisper, pulling him inside. 

“Get ready Peaches, we’re going to the gym,” he exclaims, placing his bag on the table. Left dumbfounded, I try to analyze his face, searching for any hints of this being a joke. Unfortunately, he looked pretty serious as he filled up my water bottle and packed some snacks to go. 

“Pardon?” I scoff, hands now folded over my chest. 

“Your clinicals finish too late, it’s a dangerous world out there,” he grins, pulling me closer by the robe string. Cupping my face he places a soft kiss on my forehead, before looking back at my face, which was still vividly confused. 

“I have Tae,” I reply softly, eyes focused on him. 

“Thank God for that, but you still need to learn some self-defence. Pretty girls know how to fight,” Jungkook chuckles, caressing my cheek with his thumb. 

“I’m too tired Jungkook, please can we just sleep?” I whine into his embrace, arms tightening around his torso. With a soft smile, he leans his head back as I sneak in a few minutes of rest before being awakened once again. 

Entering the gym we bow to the receptionist before Jungkook leads the way toward the boxing room which surprisingly, we were not the only ones occupying. Giving a quick smile to the girls stretching at the back, I begin unpacking my stuff. I am not dressed in proper gym attire because I simply don't own one, so a white crop top and black sweatpants had to do. Jungkook, on the other hand, blended right in with his black muscle tee and red boxer shorts. Making sure the gloves were not too tight on my hand, he clasps the velcro in place before going through some preliminary stretches. 

“Okay Peaches, if someone comes up behind you and grabs you by the shoulders, what will you do?” Jungkook asks, proceeding to stand in the hypothetical position. 

“Curse them out? I don't know,” I sigh, shaking my head, body still tired from the night before. 

“Miraya, you have to focus please,” he whispers into my ear, hands gliding down to my waist as I flinch at his bare touch. Grabbing my hand he attaches it to his, signalling the twisting motion of his arm. 

“Twisting their hand will buy you some time to run,” he explains, gaze focused on my concentrated expression. 

“If you want, you can also kick them in the balls, that'll definitely get them,” Jungkook chuckles as I sigh at his energetic state. 

“Why can't you just be with me at all times?” I whine, leaning into his chest and placing my arms around his neck. 

“You have those dreams too?” he grins, tightening the grip on my waist as I can't help but roll my eyes at his teasing. 

--

“Mira, do you want anything from the cafeteria?” Tae asks as we make our way toward the lunchroom. Today has been extremely difficult, both emotionally and physically. An older “gentleman” spit right at me, insisting to see a real doctor. While another one made me chase him around the room before I could get his vitals. 

“Just some coffee please,” I reply with a soft smile. Unpacking my meal prep, I offer Hanbin a seat at our table since he was the only other group member from our cohort. With the hectic workload, we barely get time to actually get to know our coworkers, so small chit-chats over lunch will have to suffice. 

“So, are you enjoying nursing so far?” I break the awkward silence, as Hanbin heats his food. 

“If you consider mental breakdowns enjoyable then yeah, sure” he chuckles, leaning back on the cupboard. 

“So real, I don’t remember the last time I smiled, to be honest,” I giggle, taking a bite of my salmon. 

“But, hey, at least we have the Winter Formal,” he replies with a grin. 

“Oh, that’s right, I almost forgot,” 

Remembering how excited Tae was about this dance, I realized that I was not prepared for it at all. I guess I got so caught up in all the schoolwork that it completely slipped my mind. Plus, I’m not much of a party animal unless a drop of alcohol enters my system, then, there’s just no going back for me. 

“No worries, have you thought about your plus one?” Hanbin chuckles, bringing his chair closer to mine, gaze focused on my lips. Technically, nothing happened but suddenly the ambience of the room felt different. Moving my stuff closer, I reply with a soft smile before Tae barges in with coffee in one hand and a sticky note in another. 

“What took you so long?” I let out a relieved sigh, eyes locked on Tae’s, hoping he could also sense the tension in the room. 

“I just got myself a date for the Formal,” he grins, parading the yellow piece of paper. Taking a seat between Hanbin and I, he takes a bite of my salmon with no questions asked. Before I can slap his forearm, he calls a truce with the hot coffee in front of me. 

“This whole time you were flirting with some stranger?” I sigh, rolling my eyes at his teasing smile. 

“A sexy, tall, blonde stranger,” he adds, poking my nose as I huff at his childishness. “Anyways, what were you guys talking about?” 

“Oh, I was just asking Mira about her plus one for the Formal,” Hanbin says, both of their eyes now focused on my blank face. Obviously, my mind went straight to Jungkook, but I doubt he would be interested, especially since he wouldn’t know anyone there aside from Tae and I. 

“Surely, it will be Jungkook,” Tae’s voice interrupts my thoughts as Hanbin lets out a soft gasp. Trying to avoid eye contact with either of them, I busy myself with the rest of my lunch. 

“Jungkook? Is that your boyfriend?” he asks softly, leaning back on his chair as Tae proceeds to nod his head. 

“Yeah, they’re basically dating,” Tae exclaims, looking back at my dumbfounded expression with a teasing grin. It seems like I have no say in the conversation about my life, as my attempt at clearing things up is interrupted by the sound of a pager. 

“That’s a wrap everyone,” Tae chuckles as we rush back to our unit base. 

--

Mira: Hey, are you busy?

Jungkook: Just finishing up at the gym, what’s up? 

Mira: You don’t have to but, if you are free on Friday, do you want to go to the Winter Formal? 

Jungkook: With you? 

Mira: … well don’t sound so excited -_-

Jungkook: No, I mean as your date? 

Mira: I guess? We don’t have to put any labels though. 

Jungkook: I would love to ;) 

--

Touching up my makeup, I scramble through the mess on the bathroom counter hoping to find the last Q-tip. I’ve never been good at makeup but thankfully, it seems that the beauty gurus have possessed my body today because smokey eyes have never been my forte. Taking the last set of curlers out of my hair, I’m interrupted by the knocks on the front door.

“Hi Peaches,” Jungkook grins, gaze focused on my Hello Kitty robe. That's the thing, I have yet to pick an outfit, I mean I have options but none of them left me in awe. He on the other hand looked really good. A tux does that to a guy, I guess. Waving him inside I hurry to my room, praying that a perfect outfit would just summon itself before I get there. 

“Ok, what do you think, is this too much?” I say out of breath from all the adrenaline. Walking out in a black silk dress with a slit at the front, I nervously pat the sides of the waistline as a grin forms on Jungkook’s face. Nibbling on his rip rings, he can’t help but let out a small chuckle shaking his head. 

“Hello? How do I look?” I scoff at his teasing. 

“Hot, but you look better under me,” he finally says, before pulling my form on his lap. 

“Ok, that’s enough. Do you think it’s too much though?” I say softly, trying to ignore the tension building between our close proximity. 

“I can fight, Peaches. Wear whatever you want,” he whispers into my ear before placing a small kiss on the soft skin, tightening his grip on my waist. 

--

Entering the hall decorated in a beautiful white and blue palette, Jungkook and I wave to Tae who was accompanied by a mysterious blondie. It’s obvious that the student council did not hold back on the budget, I mean there was live music, an array of various cuisines and a whole ice sculpture just plopped at the entrance. I guess our tuition is being used for a good cause. 

“Sheesh, you guys do look like a couple, is there something you aren’t telling me?” Tae exclaims, looking us up and down before placing his hand around the girl next to him. 

“This is Minji, she is also a student nurse but her placement is in the ICU,” he says excitedly, boxy smile on full display. 

“Pleasure to meet you Minji, I’m Mira and this is Jungkook,” I say, reaching out for a handshake, as Jungkook gives her a small smile. She was wearing a lacey, mini-pink dress with a sweetheart neckline. Side by side we would look like an epitome of yin-yang, just light and darkness. 

“Pleasure is all mine, Tae has told me all about you,” she replies, leaning into his chest as he welcomes her into a soft embrace. Letting out an awkward chuckle, I can’t help but think about the tea he must have spilled with his blabbermouth. My thoughts, however, are interrupted by the sudden feeling of a hand on my back. Flinching at the sensation, I naturally turn to Jungkook, gaze focused on his confused face as he lets out a soft hum. 

“Hi guys,” Hanbin says, wrapping his hands around Tae and I’s shoulders, before focusing his gaze on Jungkook who was already looking directly at him. Moving my body closer to his, Junkook rests his hands on my waist, tracing little circles on the fabric. 

“You must be the Jungkook,” Hanbin exclaims with a grin, before reaching in for a handshake which Jungkook quickly declines with a slight nod. 

“And you would be?” 

“Oh, I’m Hanbin, has Mira never mentioned me?” Hanbin asks, letting out a small chuckle before meeting my eyes. 

“Never,” Jungkook scoffs, leaning his head on mine. 

“Well, I would kill for a drink right now,” I say promptly, feeling the tension rise between the two men. Meeting Tae’s eyes, I plead for assistance as he quickly ushers Hanbin and Minji inside. Following them I pull Jungkook’s arm, trying to avoid his eyes which are now filled with questions. 

--

“Oh shoot,” I softly yelp, tripping over my slippers as Jungkook leads my tipsy self to the bedroom. The party was a blast, we danced, ate, talked, and most importantly drank. Well, Tae and I did. Jungkook settled for a can of Coke as our responsible designated driver. 

“Miraya, where is your towel?” he asks, rummaging through the aftermath of my outfit selection fiasco. Handing me a pink towel, we walk towards the bathroom as he stops at the door.

“Jungkook, I need help,” I whine, eyes irritated by the bright light. 

“Peaches, you can do it yourself,” he exclaims, resting his head on the doorframe before succumbing to my cries. Moving my hair out of the way his hands find the dress zipper before slowly pulling it down. I flinch at the feeling of his soft breath on my exposed back, turning my gaze towards his dark orbs.  

“Thank you,” I whisper, letting out a small smile, before pushing him out of the bathroom. 

Unable to respond as the door slams shut, Jungkook plops his fatigued body onto the bed, careful not to get it dirty. Scanning the room, he grins at the plethora of baby photos hanging on the wall before coming in for a closer look. 

“So, you’ve always been cute,” he chuckles, looking back at my freshly bathed self. Hair wrapped in a towel, I was repping my iconic Barbie pyjamas before virtually melting into the soft duvet. Still tipsy, I pull him over, leaving no space between us as a soft frown forms on his face. 

“Hanbin … does he bother you?” Jungkook says, eyes lowered on my hands. 

“No, we just work in the same unit,” I mumble, letting out a small yawn. 

“So, he has never made a move on you?” he says, eyes now focused on mine. 

“God no, Jungkook, what are you on?” I scoff, falling back on the soft pillows, as my eyes finally rest. 

“Well I don’t know, he seemed very comfortable tonight,” he explains, as I reach for his hand. 

“Jungkook, I want you,” I whine softly, eyes barely staying open as my fingers intertwine with his. Surprised by the sudden flashlight, I look up at the phone camera in front of me. 

“What are you doing?” I yelp, pulling the duvet over my face. 

“Recording this for evidence or else you won’t believe me tomorrow,” he grins, placing the phone back on the night table. 

“What? You don’t want me?” I say, eyes peeking through the covers. Scoffing at the remark, he can’t help but shake his head with a grin, before moving in closer. 

“That’s not fair, you know exactly what I want and what I need, Peaches”

Previous l Next

[lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit]

Hi👋♡.

May I request one-shots Serafine Savoy and Nico Savoy with teen fem!Reader (Platonic) the Reader is a delivery girl she helps them all the time and of course they have to get her something for her hard work she do for them.

[ money maybe?]

{Love your blog by the way♡}.

Don't know how this turned into a spin-off, cat episode of something that feels straight out of Peaky Blinders, but here you go!

Get a job, Mother said. The world is changing and girls need to pull their weight, just how I did during the Great War.

However, when Y/N finally got one of course she wasn't too happy.

"An unpaid delivery girl? You could have aimed slightly higher, especially with that mind of yours."

Well, perhaps she wouldn't have been so picky if she realized her daughter didn't have much of a choice in the matter. No one accidentally ran into a criminals hunting ground and got out completely unscathed, in reputation or otherwise. Her own price to pay was becoming an uncompensated errand girl for a couple of no good kitties with sharp gazes, smiles and knives. A lot of knives, and guns too.

The option to refuse wasn't really on the table. That was a couple of months ago now.

Maybe Y/N should have realized sooner something about her job was shadier than she first thought. At first there seem to be nothing amiss. Y/N was asked to post letters, carry tattered and lightly but suspiciously stained clothes to and from the tailors. Small things she had no problem doing for free. They weren't too out of the way either; most of the shops and post boxes were on her way to school.

Her suspicions only really started when she was sent to pick up a suspicious-looking package from a derelict riverside cafe. It was just the one, and she delivered it without a hitch. Looking back she probably should have failed to do so; it would have certainly avoided the fear and stress that came when she was sent on a similar errand the week after.

Then it became every three days and sometimes even twice in one.

Mother was right: Y/N had a good head on her shoulders. She didn't need to peek into the boxes to know what she was carrying was less than legal. She was also well aware that if anything happened to the cargo inside she'd be dead, but she was also smart enough to know she could hand it over to the cops at any time. Who knows, she could end up taking down a major crime ring in St. Louis. She could become a hero!

Or…

She could beat her generously-loaded employers at their own game.

Y/N burst into the hotel suite, waving the letter high in her hand. "Delivery!"

The cloud of smoke hanging around the divans parted, and a carefully manicured, clawed hand beckoned her closer. "Merci, now give it here, cher."

For once, Y/N stayed put. "No."

"No?" The hand cleared the rest of the fog, and Miss Savoy's amber eye watched her, widening.

Those stares didn't scare Y/N anymore, not after working for them for months. She even took a step back. "No."

"Elle se prend pour qui?" Miss Savoy's brother growled, raising himself up from his seat. His cigarette hung limply from the corner of his mouth.

"Nico, laisse-la," Miss Savoy tutted. "Elle a du culot, c'est presque impressionnant."

"I'd like it if you didn't talk behind my back," Y/N bit out.

"And we'd like it if you hand over the letter like the good girl we know you can be."

Again, Y/N held it out of reach. "And I'd like to be compensated."

"Your compensation is us not killin' you for messin' up our gig," Nico pointed out.

"You gangstas might want to think of marking your territory better so a teenager doesn't fuck you up."

"She swears too."

They seemed almost surprised. Y/N decided to skip the rest of the pleasantries.

"Money."

"What?"

"I want money."

Nico and Serafine looked at each other. Then, he smirked. She grinned. They both fell about laughing, leaving a confused Y/N to ping-pong between them and scowl.

"What's so funny?"

They only replied to each other in quick snippets of French she couldn't understand.

"What is it?" she repeated.

"T'as perdu, c'est toi qui paye," Serafine smirked to her brother, again ignoring Y/N's questions.

Nico rolled his eyes and rummaged around in a nearby tin. "Bien joué…"

He held out a wad of cash—and by god it was more than she had ever seen in her life! He was essentially offering her her own small fortune, most of it likely made of blood money.

She didn't take it right away. "What's all this about?"

Nico shook the money in front of her eyes. "Bettin' to see how long it'd take you to man up and ask."

Y/N was dumbfounded. "Ask?"

"For payment."

So, they were saying everything she had done for free, every risk and every broken law…

"All I had to do was ask?!"

Nico cracked a sickening grin. "Yes, cher."

Yes. That was all he said, the only confirmation. She wanted to scream, she wanted to shout, she wanted to take that rifle off the wall and—

She snatched up the money with a frown, shooting daggers from her eyes. She handed over the letter. "I hate you both."

Nico's grin softened. "Hate you too," he said with no real conviction or the previous bit she knew he could give.

Almost as if he was trying to be her friend.

They could try all they liked, but they wouldn't get far.

Not now.

[arkhelios-gameplay]

The doorbell rang.

“Finally!” Pelle exclaimed, practically jumping out of his chair. He rarely ordered food, being adamant on cooking as much as possible for himself to ensure it stayed healthy. And vegetarian, for that matter, too many delivery places had tried to give him chicken. Typing up job applications to every position available, though, was a good reason in his opinion to indulge in some quick carbs. “Pizzaaa!” he said in a singsong voice as he skipped across the kitchen. Sigurd pranced after him with eyes on his owner. Pelle shot him a playful glare. “You aren’t getting any, Sigurd, I know what you’re planning,” he said, wagging his finger at the dog.

[azeutreciathewicked]

Congratulations!  You are the winner of an all-expenses paid fanfic voyage where you get to savor a series of incredibly hot, smutty, and oh so very sacrilegious threesomes with our favorite bastard Angel and totally-not-nice slinky-hipped Demon.

If you’d like to skip directly to the fic without spoilers and read the wall of shame delightful content tags there (including “Turbo Virgins” and “Aziraphale has a dirty mouth”), lick, er, click the link: The Nephilim Loophole by Ashmodai the Wicked

To continue with your itinerary and free preview, read on!

In the first two chapters, “Negotiation” (Ch. 1)  and “The Munch,” (Ch. 2) we will establish our characters and their goals for this naughty but sex positive journey, including boundaries, safe words, and negotiations as our ineffable duo learn: “sex, how do?”

Next stop will be some lovely “getting to know you” action with intense making out, wandering hands, a human sandwich, and some naughty bits coming out to play in the second half on “The Couch” (Ch. 3).

After that, we’ll turn up the heat in “Exposed” (Ch. 4) with clothes coming off, penetration, and other vanilla-plus intimate hijinks, with some cum licking and a celebratory spitroast at the end.

We’ll take a quick rest stop at “Interlude” (Ch. 5) to recover from these exertions, plus add some very clear foreshadowing about what is to come so you may say the safeword (“Vavoom”) and go straight to “Aftercare” (Ch. 7) if you’ve had enough. Beware your voice mail – Aziraphale is getting the hang of leaving scandalous messages for you during work hours!

“Driven” (Ch. 6), our final extra long* leg(?) through Smut Town will be a busy medley of BDSM (minus the crushing humiliation, flogging, and inflicted pain you may associate with that acronym), complicated relationship dynamics, a bit of obsession and possessiveness, sex addiction, a bratty sub, some fun little toys, a whole lotta sexy talk, spanking, angel wall sex, double penetration and triple penetration. 

Treat yourself to a provocative and hypnotizing oral delivery by our very own fledgling Gentle Dom Aziraphale who pumps out as much praise as you can lap up, as long as you are well-behaved. Otherwise, there will be some very stern chastisement and light verbal humiliation for both you and Crowley, as you are partners in the crime of being too damn horny for your own good (“you couldn’t behave yourselves for one elevator ride!”). You might just want to keep misbehaving to get a longer scolding…

But is everything as it seems? Things will get quite kinky, a bit weird, maybe even a little eldritch this time, but still very much consensual and sex-positive.

*Note: This chapter doubled the length of this fic. And it’s mostly Aziraphale’s dirty, dirty mouth running without anyone to stop him because he put himself in charge. Not that anyone’s into that… right?

 We ask that you stay in your seats until the ride has come to a complete stop at the stations of “Aftercare” (Ch. 7) and “Primum non nocere” (Ch. 8) to see if it can make sense in the end. The author will not be held responsible for any lingering angst inflicted on our demon and angel; our liability insurance only covers you, the reader, and you will be perfectly safe… trust us!

Don’t be intimidated by the size of this monster – it goes down smooth if you relax and let it take you. Please have a pleasurable and stimulating journey!

Content tags for entire work: (mostly in Ch. 6 - Driven) 

2nd person perspective, MFM threesome, consent established prior, safe words, adult language, crude language, sexy words, scent fetish, taste fetish, cum play, spanking, light humiliation, small toys, vibrators, sexy phone talk / texting, power trip, control, power imbalance, relationship imbalance, psychological spiral, punishment, BDSM (lite), anal, self-destructive behavior, soft/gentle dom, possibility of manipulation?, mirror sex, a touch of eldritch/uncanny, double penetration, triple penetration, oral sex, sex positivity, turbo virgins

Ready to start your voyage? Excellent Read "The Nephilim Loophole" Update 18JAN2024: Stay tuned for two more installments to make this a trilogy! There will be smut, but there will also be angelic lore, character development, and heavy plot by the end.

[aching-tummies]

Valentine's Pizza

Happy February 14th!

Plans with a potential significant other and with friends fell through. Family medical emergency on one end and work emergency/call-in for the other. So I ended up alone on Valentine's Day. No big deal. I'd booked the day off so I decided to treat myself.

I woke up pretty early in the day—around 6AM. I lounged around in bed, reading books, falling back asleep at random, small, intervals and doing whatever for a couple of hours. Around 9AM my stomach was grumbling loudly and aching from being hungry. I'd skipped dinner on the night of the 13th, spending all that time fussing over what to wear on a potential date, having the significant other cancel due to a family emergency, re-scheduling to make plans with some single friends wanting to get together, and changing up my wardrobe for the new activities we had planned. Lots of ironing, lots of mixing and matching of clothing items, trying to figure out what I could pair with what to look cute depending on which outing I was going to and who I was seeing or what activities were on the table. Having skipped dinner and been awake since 6AM, my 9AM my stomach was really empty and really angry.

I opted to order pizza because I'd been craving it and haven't had pizza in any form other than frozen-from-the-grocer in over three or four years. The delivery fee was the same, regardless of what I ordered, so I ordered a lot. The place I was ordering from had some new-to-me items so I ended up with two different medium pizzas and two different Calzone-like things as well as two different soft-drinks. Basically, I took advantage of the “Valentine's” package deal on the site. Not like the pizza chain or the delivery driver are gonna care whether or not it was just me or me and a date. I fully planned to put left-overs away to have a quick breakfast item at the ready for the coming days.

Unfortunately, the idea of testing my capacity did not occur to me until it was too late. I opted to enjoy my food over the course of the day rather than stuff myself. Though I do kind of wish I had pushed myself a little.

The main item I wanted to try was the Calzone-like thing because I'd never had it before and it sounded delicious. The ones I had were good. The dough was thin and there was always 0.5-0.75cm of mozzarella in every bite—so they did not skimp on the cheese...which would have been the most expensive ingredient in the things. Unfortunately, I guess my stomach wasn't really up to the task of breaking down such a dense mass of cheese. The Calzone-like things basically sat heavy in my stomach-organ for 7+ hours. Surprisingly, it didn't give me heartburn or anything...just left a noticeable weight in my stomach-organ that I was made aware of every time I moved. Get up to use the washroom? Whoa...something dense is kinda nudging/bobbing inside of my stomach. I drank lots of water and tea and fluids to avoid heartburn. And the dry, cheesy, and salty combination basically made it easy to actually want to keep my fluid intake up. So the dense mass of cheese, dough, and bits of vegetables basically swam around a lake in my stomach for 7+ hours.

It was only when I was putting away 80% of the pizza that I realized what a missed opportunity it was. Had my mind been on stomach-kink, I could have absolutely crammed a stomach-busting amount of pizza into my gut. I didn't and I haven't, but part of me wonders about all the missed opportunities.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Being Understaffed

Welp. This is going to be a hellish week.

As sort of briefly mentioned earlier, I woke up way too early - not because I wanted to, but because my legs started doing that pain-spasm thing that I hate so much and I could not lie down anymore. Not that moving them helped all that much, but it was better than attempting to fool myself that sleep was attainable. So there I was, underslept and in an intense amount of pain, and I very much toyed with the idea of calling in, but I figured I'd look at what the work situation was like at the moment. Temp went on compassionate leave a week ago and isn't due back for another two and a half weeks, so I felt like I should at least take a look.

Well. Goblin's on annual leave. So two of our three primary typists are out this week. We do have New Girl, who's apparently starting full time as of now, but ... honestly, I see little evidence of that. She's more obvious about leaving the long and/or frustrating bits of typing for someone else to do than Temp or Goblin ever were, so I wound up with:

The one who won't switch off the recording while she's taking measurements so that more than half of her dictation is silence (indicating her messing around with a ruler or whatever) that I can't even fast-forward through because I don't know when it's going to end

The two who absolutely refuse to put together anything remotely resembling a block key

The one with the mild speech impediment on top of her accent

The guy who constantly skips between long dictation and equally long block key, obliging me to find space in his walls of text for the next few bricks every few minutes

The Breast Guy

The guy who has no idea how to mark urgent dictations as URGENT in our typing system (as well as being a pain to type for), meaning that we're doing these urgent liver and kidney biopsies far later than we should be

The one who insists on reading the lab number for each and every specimen pot we get, even though it is hugely not necessary and is just another time sink

Basically all the aggravating skin excisions

And basically anything more than a minute long

I do not know why we hired this person, but she is not enough when two people are out. Not when she'll only do the really short, really simple bits of dictation really slowly and Milady's idea of helping with the typing is also pulling the occasional short bit of dictation out of the queue. So I literally have no choice but to do the long, complicated, annoying, and / or all of the above ones because there is not much left to do unless I want to do things completely out of order.

I somehow managed to get through the day. Not sure how, honestly. My stepfather is getting the plumbing in the other flat sorted with the help of a contractor and asked if he could come through to get some water, and watching him meant that a delivery guy took it as an invitation to be caretaker for a package for the guys across the corridor. So that was disruptive. Plus the pain and exhaustion, and knowing how far behind we're going to be by the end of the week, even if I'm at my best.

Worst of all is knowing that I will not be at my best this week. But I can't really call out, either, unless I just literally can't move. We're down two main typists and we can't afford to be down a third. If nothing else, I'll just have to kill myself twice as hard to sort the backlog when I get back. Gods know that the other girls won't pick up the pace even a tiny bit.

I want to know where the extra staffer we were promised is.

But mostly I want to take a quick trip to the corner shop and then kind of collapse for the duration. Thank goodness I did a pork roast yesterday so all I have to do is throw leftovers in the microwave. I mean, my appetite is shot, but I'm going to try, at least. Maybe with some good food, a hot bath, and proper sleep, I'll be well enough to tackle at least some of the mess tomorrow. I mean, I kind of have to be, but...

[snexy-the-snail]

I'm sorry but cacao seeing Cotton as a third child of his is just so sweet, i think it deserves a one shot of the first time she gets nommed up by him-

Also, She lives in a village that isn't on the CoD's radar so she's safe from potentially getting kidnapped and used for ransom. But that doesn't mean she's safe once in the kingdom's boarders

I mean obviously it does XD 

and yes, literally the most danger is from when she's doing deliveries because hey cutting of supplies is a good tactic.

 

Traveling always came with its dangers, the cold, the weird creatures lurking in the dark and of course the fact a war was going on. However, that didn't stop Cotton from doing her duty. She was one of the few who would make the journey out to the Cacaos kingdom. As the walls came into view she pulled her coat tighter around her listening to the wind for a moment, frowning when yelling started to ruin the serene time she was having. Great there was a fight going on it seemed like. Maybe there would be a way to sneak by and get inside the walls before anything bad happened. 

An arrow lands near her causing her to squeak in surprise her eyes widen as both armies started moving towards to her as they struggled to both keep each other away, she stumbled back, bumping into a mess of legs and armor as the fighters practically surrounded her.  She had never been this close to a fight, not to the point of being in it! She stifles a scream as a sword nearly slices her in half, a hand yanked her back from the glinting weapon. Her head whipped around in a panic to see her capture ready to do her best to fight against them but..the panic faded when she saw Dark Cacao towering over her. At least it was someone on her side or at the very least someone she knew. 

 "O-Oh u-thank you?" She squeaks out her heart skipping a beat. She rarely saw the king, considering they were quick drop-offs, she wasn't too keen on staying for long either. He was always so quiet around her, so she didn't think he cared too much about her at all. Dark eye met her own, before glancing around the hand on her shoulder tightening. It was massive like most older cookies, though it did little to sooth her.  Dark Cacao never seemed to enjoy her presence, so what was he thinking then? 

The grip however loosens drastically when she flinches, something that sends a wave of relief through Cotton. At the very least he didn’t mean to scare her? The next moment he's pulling her closer when fighters got too close for his apparent liking. The chaos around them seemed to slow down and muffle, Cotton was only able to hear her heart pounding in her ears. Cacao didn't like her, at least that was the general feeling that Cotten got from the cookie, he was always quiet or short and to the point. She swallows nervously her trembling slowly staring to shake her smaller frame. Th more silence passed between them, though it was most likely mere seconds rather than the minutes it felt like. 

Cacao makes a gentle sounding noise before his hands shift under her arms as he lifts her up. "What..What are you..." She trails off her eyes widening as he lifts her up to his face. It was so odd to Cotton that he would even consider this, she wasn't related to him or one of his subjects and yet... She squirms slightly when he opens his mouth, everything around them was chaos and seemed to be moving slower but she knows he's moving as fast as he can for both of their safety. She wasn’t anything special to him that thought was slowly fading as her legs are enveloped by warmth, another gentle sounding rumble coming from the cookie as a firm swallow started to pull her small frame down into his core. 

It had been a while sense she had this done with her, a small warmth building inside Cottons chest as each swallow pulled her down until darkness washed over her, his mouth shutting as her entire body was firmly sucked inside his throat. Her feet hit open air before she rapidly slid inside of the stomach. She expected to sink down into the dough, instead of yelping in surprise when she felt another body shifting around below her. The darkness made it impossible to see but it was that other crumb she had seen around the castle! “O-oh sorry! I didn’t ah I didn’t know anyone was coming.” The crumb squeaked shifting until she was sort of spooning her. He was slightly taller than her, but she knew she was the oldest of the pair.  

“It’s fine, I didn’t realize that I'd be coming either.” She giggles nervously, the dough around them tightening as it holds them in place. The jostling does not seem too horrible now. The rush of Dark Cacaos lungs comforting as was the pounding of his heart. “Really? Father’s been trying to get a hold of you for a while now.” The other crumb says startling Cotton out of her thoughts. “A hold of me? What? I thought he hated me!” 

A surprised noise came from all around her, color rushing to her cheeks when she realized he could still hear them. “Why would you think that?”  

“WellI just..he’s  never really. Um... Talkative?” 

“That's just how he is.” 

Well now she felt rude. A reassuring noise washes over her, making her nerves settle even just a tiny bit. “I didn’t know I’m sorry..I just I never really thought you liked me.” She reaches out giving the dough a slight rub. She didn’t get a verbal response exactly just another comforting hum. She guessed the other crumb was right, he really wasn’t talkative.  

“I’m Cotton.” 

“Crunchy Chip.” 

[moonlightchn]

Chewing her lip, Jangmi looks at the items in her arms, trying to juggle them around so she can knock on his door. She know Chan is home, after months together, she knows his routine just as well as he knows hers.

The fox didn’t tell him that she was coming because then he would have picked her up and that would have ruined the surprise. It’s a bit early, she knows and she has things prepared for next month but… something lately had been telling her that she needs to give Chan something special.

He’s been her rock, a lot of her support and strength and her Alpha. He will say it is all a part of who he is but Jangmi knows that it isn’t fair for him to be there for her whenever she calls but she can’t be there for him.

Knock, knock, knock.

Waits.

When the wolf opens the door, the slight surprise in his eyes and the smile on his face is enough for Jangmi to be filled with pride at having given him a surprise for once. “Special delivery for a Mr Bahng Chan!” She giggles as she holds out the bundles in her arms and once Chan had taken them and invited her inside, she skips in, tail flowing as freely as her dress, and makes her way to his living room. “Quick, quick, Alpha!!” She plops down on his couch and pats the space next to her.

Once the gifts are opened, one by one, Jangmi explains with a very proud expression.

“The necklace I thought fit you! I know you have lots of bracelets but… I thought maybe a necklace would be something you wear all the time too. Something different! Well, crescent moons mean a lot of things, depending on where you look but…” she looks nervously at her hands, scared he might be annoyed by the definition she felt was relevant. “It means good luck, it can be a protection from anything negative but it also represents a fresh start. The ebb and flow of life and the need to embrace change. This is a waxing crescent, I think the lady said, so it means to breathe life into your dreams and connect with your universe… or something like that!”

Letting that settle for a bit, she clears her throat and smiles as she points at the keyboard she had bought. “This is a MIDI board! Every producer needs one of these and I’m sure you have plenty but this is a new model and is PORTABLE!! You can take it everywhere! As much as I don’t like you working all the time, it’s something you love and so… I want to support!” Jangmi smiles at Chan, hopeful that he loves them and all the thought she put into this.

“I don’t think I ever told you this, Alpha. I know it’s unspoken between us but I want to say it! I love you! You’re my best friend, my Alpha and you are a safety that nobody has given me before! You are the most amazing person I have ever met and I don’t know where I would be without you!” She pauses for a moment, ears falling flat onto her head as she shakes it. “I know where I would be and it wouldn’t be as happy as I am now.” And with that, the little fox hugs her Alpha tightly, conveying all the love she holds in her heart for someone as precious to her as he is.

[patches-bitsandbobs]

7/2/2023 - oh I know Brick ated the cheese. *contains mild spoilers for the end of the game!*

Peppino whistled a jolly tune, practically skipping to the kitchen. for once, he was in a good mood - with the destruction of the tower came a sudden, surprising bloom of travellers, who had come from far and wide to see what the fuck had generated the plume of dust. once the sight see-ers were done marvelling at his enraged handy-work, they'd stop by his parlour for a freshly baked pizza. even after the dust had settled, word continued to spread of not only the remains of the bricks, but also of his establishment, until it wasn't the tower people came to visit anymore.

the tourists had helped pay off the majority of his debts (in such a short time, too!), and slowly, he was beginning to fill up the tip jar with extra change. sometimes the others would help out with getting some extra funds (since they refused to leave), such as Pepperman taking quick sketch commissions, or Vigilante shooting out cans with his eyes closed (after Peppino got shot right in the ass, he made sure he stayed inside when Vig went out with the revolver. they usually split it, but the money had stayed on Peppinio's side that day). he had rebuilt his reputation with the towers fall, further helped along from Mr Sticks' (paid for) ads.

now, he had not one, not two, but three big orders to bake, and all three were to be done via moped delivery. and they all lived in the big city. the big city was where the big dosh was. his parlour was known in the big city now. it had been months since he'd taken the moped out for a spin; months since his last reason to go in to the big city. he was ecstatic.

but when he entered the kitchen, he saw Brick, perched on the counter, shaped like a square. literally; he was shaped like a solid square. Brick blinked at Peppino. Peppino blinked at Brick. slowly, Peppino moved to where the cheese was stored. when he opened the fridge, he saw it empty of cheese. he nodded to himself, once, his mood instantly falling flat. he looked back at Brick. Brick continued to stare back. there was nothing behind his eyes - no emotion, no guilt; only the pure bliss of cheese.

'Gustavo.' Peppino called. Gustavo instantly entered the scene, because if Brick was there, then Gustavo was never far behind. 'why did you let Brick in here.'

'oh! we were only popping in for a quick visit is all! I just got caught up with Vig; why, has something happened?' worry flooded Gustavo's expression. Peppino pointed at Brick. Gustavo looked at Brick. the worry morphed into confusion, because, yes, that sure was Brick alright. he wrung his hands. he said nothing about Bricks strange square-ness. Peppino expected distraught at the sight - perhaps even some anger on his part - but the lack of anything accusatory brought Peppino to half hearted splutters.

'I- you- are you-? ... Gustavo, he ate all the cheese.' the worry instantly changed to shock, Gustavo snapping his gaze to Peppino with horror. that only made Peppino the confused one. 'why are you- he's literally square shaped, Gus. like, come on. it's obvious.'

'but Brick would never do something so heinous!' Gustavo defended. Peppino's mouth gaped open. he could feel his sanity drip from his ears as he spread his arms toward Brick, as if that would help Gustavo see his shape better.

'he's a SQUARE. what do you even MEAN. he's LITERALLY a SQUARE.'

'what the fuck is going on in here?' Noise suddenly demanded, skateboarding into the kitchen. he skidded to a stop beside Gustavo, annoyed. 'we can hear you from the front, dipshit-'

'Noise, does Brick seem off to you?' Peppino asked, ignoring his comment. with a raised brow, Noise looked over at Brick. Brick snuffed a satisfied little squeak. he couldn't move too much, on account of being a square.

'... eh, he's still a rat.' Noise said after a short inspection. Peppino’s eye twitched.

'yes, but is he different.'

'uh, no?' Peppino’s glare could have melted through steel.

'you're fucking with me. both of you are.'

'what- no I ain't, he's literally a rat.'

'YES, I KNOW he’s a rat, but right now he's a SQUARE. he's square because he ate the CHEESE. he isn't NORMALLY a fucking SQUARE - he’s Round 100% of the time. he's usually a SPHERE.' Gustavo placed his hands on his hips, his own frown overtaking the worry as he levelled Peppino with a defensive sneer.

'now hold on a second there Peppino! do you even have any solid proof of this?' Noise joined Gustavo in the defence, his arms crossing.

'yeah! why'er you always picking on the rats, huh?' Peppino grit his teeth, grinding them in an attempt to soothe his growing frustration. it didn't help. oh I'm always the one picking on the rats, he bitterly thought. what about ME for once. the rats are always picking on ME.

at that moment, Fake Peppino walked into the parlour, heading straight for the fridge. he stopped dead once he saw the confrontation, tilting his head with a little hum as everyone turned to face him. Peppino deflated with elation, glad to see a familiar, smart, handsome, slightly freaky face. (when Noise asked Peppino why he didn't shit himself around Fake Peppino anymore, Peppino had responded that it was a bit of an ego boost to see himself in such a different light. Noise had called him "a right fucking weirdo", leaving it at that.)

'ah, finally, someone with sense,' Peppino sighed, waving at Pepper, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. Peppino pointed straight at Brick, determined to get at least one thing on his side. 'ain't it obvious that Brick ate the cheese? like, it's plainly obvious, right? that he's guilty of theft? you agree with me, right? like it's so obvious he ate it, and that these two are wrong, and I'm right.' by the time he was done with his speech, Pepper had crouched down into a fucked up little ball, his weird, spindly arms wrapped around his head. his eyes popped from his head; the pupils darted between the defensive left side, Brick, and the prosecutor's right side. neither party made a move to convince Pepper to their team.

'... Pepper?' he leered straight at Peppino. he slowly lifted his right leg. 'PEPPER.'

'man, you have got to stop picking on the rats, Italian. it's getting boring.' red filled his eyes, a look that could wilt flowers aimed Noises way.

'I'M PICKING ON THE RAT BECAUSE I'M RIGHT.' Pepper, still hunched low, gurgled with laughter.

'now now lads, let's calm down here! Peppino, are you out of cheese?'

'YES.'

'then not to worry; me and Brick will get some more for you! we'll be back in a jiffy!'

'but Brick is-' Gustavo took one step toward Brick. with an obnoxiously loud GULP, Bricks body did a flash of stretchy movements, before he returned to his oblong shape, all signs of his crime gone. the large rat hopped off the counter with a flourish of speed, allowing Gustavo to mount him. with a pat on the head, Gustavo gave the group a thumbs up, and the two of them jumped out the window.

they watched their silhouettes disappear down the path, Peppino flabbergasted, Noise bored, Pepper just glad to be there. with a big stretch, Noise kicked off, slowly rolling to the door without another word. standing to his full height, Pepper stretched an arm behind Peppino's back, opened the fridge, and grabbed a handful of frozen mushrooms. with a jolly grumble, he closed Peppino’s hung open mouth with his other hand, patting his head once. he, too, then left without a word.

it took a minute for Peppino's brain to regain function. with an irritated, exhausted sigh, he got to work on a pizza, grumbling the entire time about stupid rats.

---

I know I drew something like this, but I feel like I’m a lot more flexible with the written word. this was just plain fun to do too - I love writing bullshit for fun. I also headcanon that everyone calls Fake Peppino “Pepper”, both because it’s cute and because it’s easier than typing Fake Peppino every time