#filter this if you need to! or if you Care

[with-my-calamitous-love]

WHAT IF I TOLD YOU NONE OF IT WAS ACCIDENTAL?

dazai x reader

the first night dazai saw you, he knew nothing would stop him.

for his birthday! general romance, fluff, bit of angst

a/n: i thought of this at 2am and my fingers itched to write it

a/n: mastermind is top tier change my mind. love you taylor <3

osamu dazai, for all his life, had not felt the warm bliss of love. he did not have a mothers arms to lay in, or a fathers protection to shield him. he didn't have the privilege of a second family through friends, or even the comfort of loving himself. osamu dazai was not given love, not even for a moment, so he taught himself how to gain it. he was only cryptic and machiavellian because he cared, more than he wanted to admit.

so the moment he saw you, he felt a desire stronger than ever. you wouldn't require just a simple trick or a con- no, you deserved more. he laid out the groundwork, equations in his a mind a labyrinth of desperation only you could suffice.

osamu dazai wanted you.

and he knew how to get you.

honestly, who could blame him?

dazai was a master of people. he knows how to play people like puppets to get what he wants. none of it was accidental when it came to you. the coincidental run-ins at your favorite coffee shop that was at least a 30 minute cab ride for him. the times you conveniently forgot your umbrella when you swore you packed it, and dazai just happening to be passing by on your walk home. even the time you had just been dumped by your ex-boyfriend over the phone, and dazai just happened to show up at your doorstep just checking in.

maybe you should have noticed how fabricated it was at first. but you didn’t. dazai wanted you. and he made you want him.

dazai made you want every part of him. his silky hair his deep brown eyes, his honeyed voice and his suave way of walking. he made you want all of him, the good and the bad, his charm and his want for death, his desire to be good and the deep dark past of who he once was. dazai played love like a puppet show. whenever you laid on his chest, snuggled into his warmth, or when your lips were hopelessly pressed against his, dazai knew he had you. he knew he made you want him.

whether you find out or not isn't a concern to the brunette. you love him unconditionally anyway- you're his belladonna, his love, his everything. when he kisses you, the planets and stars align as if all of the pain in his life had led him here. the empty core in his heart aches at the thought of being eased, as if afraid of being happy. but your touch melts it away. you see that he is so touch starved, so deprived of love that he just had to assess the equation of you. he did this for as much for you as he did for him, knowing that he could live through even just one more day if it meant he could love you.

he needs your fingers to intertwine with his the way a chess player needs the queen. he needs your warmth like the largest gear needs the smallest gear in a machine. he needs your reassurance like the way water needs oxygen. because osamu dazai understands a lot of things well- chess, machinery, chemical compositions, and the way you love him. he knows its a need. he knows he needs your love not like his inner child wanted candy, he knows he needs your love the way the flower needs the sun.

his eyes stir awake, sunlight filtering through the curtains of your bedroom. his skin tickles, his cheek being peppered by your kisses. a smile tugs at his lips as he stretches his arms over his head and then around you, greeting you with a "good morning" in the deepest morning voice you have ever heard. dazai was usually light sleeper, but with you he could truly rest and escape into the sheets with you.

"happy birthday, 'samu." you hum, tracing your fingers down his abdomen. every contour of his bandaged yet muscled chest screamed at you to love him with everything in you. you would kiss every inch of him- starting from his hair to the very depths of his soul if you could.

"hm?" he quips, coffee eyes slightly widening.

you chuckle. "its june 19th."

"oh."

in all honesty, his birthday is the last thing on his mind, especially when you're in front of him. you are so, so, fucking beautiful he isn’t even sure you’re real. not just beautiful in your absolutely angelic complexion, but you're beautiful simply when you're you. when you're on top of him, the new sunlight on the earth dancing on your skin. lips bruised from the night's fleeting passion, hair messy and soul absolutely smothered in him. you drove him crazy, and he'd gladly lose his mind for you.

"thank you, bella." he hums, lazily draping an arm over you, as if there was anyway he could possibly pull you closer. dazai would find a way if it meant loving you harder. never, in a million years, did he think his partner would drag him out of bed and to the living room. he rubs his eyes, finding the agency standing in your apartment, an excited atsushi and a begrudging but willing kunikida, surrounding a cake for him. he never thought it would turn out like this, this good. he's stunned for a moment- a rare emotion for the young prodigy. was... this also apart of his plan?

maybe not. but as he kissed you and whispered a passionate "thank you" into your ear, he decides that this wasn't planned- it was luck. and he loved it. funny how sometimes you just find things.

[coco-loco-nut]

How Did It End?

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: charles can’t shake the reputation of not being able to hold a relationship

masterlist ttpd masterlist

—————————

Sure, Charles dated around, but he was in his 20s, and it wasn’t like those relationships were super short. He thought the reputation assigned to him was unfair. So when he met you, he thought things would be different. How did things die so quickly?

He was used to the scrutiny at that point, so he did his best to protect you, like you were a flower that he needed to take care of. Maybe that’s what let a disease sink in.

“Charlie, we can’t hide. I don’t care what people say, I want everyone to know how much I adore my boyfriend,” you begged.

“Mon amour, they are ruthless. I don’t want you getting attacked because you are with me,” Charles frets.

“Charles, I can’t keep hiding,” you say, moving away from his touch as he reaches for you.

That became more and more frequent. Charles wasn’t wrong, the attention you got from the media was overbearing at times, but you were happy to be with him.

Charles could tell you were subconsciously pulling away. You shared love language is touch, and it was less and less frequent. It started to feel foreign rather than comforting.

That’s not to say that it was all bad. You and Charles truly believed that you were it for each other and this was just a low spot to work through. You were blind to what was to come.

The downfall really happened during a post-race party. You and Charles had been separated from each other, and people decided that that was the correct time to plant seeds of doubt in both your minds.

“God, Pierre. I don’t know what to do. She deserves better than me, I think things are ending,” Charles says on the phone with his childhood best friend, running a hand through his hair. Little did he know that you were having the same conversation with some of your friends, asking for advice.

“I think it’s time to call it off,” you and Charles get the same reply. As much as neither of you wanted to, the seeds had been planted, and that comment was like a good rain that helps it grow.

Not even a week later, you are moving your things out of Charles’ apartment and back to your apartment in London. You thought you had some peace and quiet at the start of your separation, but then the gossip pages got pictures of you and Charles. You were out shopping, feeling absolutely lost without him, you didn’t even realize that

Charles could hear the hungry voices around him, vultures waiting for the next bit of gossip. Former friends sending him pictures of you shopping and looking miserable, people whispering around him when walking around Monaco. It was all too much, and it was always the same question.

“How did it end?” like his life was a circus, and he was reaching his breaking point. The more he is asked that question, the more he can’t hold onto his PR filter.

“I can’t pretend like I understand how it ended. She was my everything, we had dreams together. It feels like her ghost and I are sitting in a tree, like that nursery rhyme. D-y-i-n-g,” Charles rants to Max, one of the few people to not offer the fake sympathy.

Charles was miserable attending Silverstone. Knowing you were so close but so far, it was torture. He just wanted to hold you in his arms, show you off to the paddock.

“Mate, he looks awful. What happened, where’s Y/n?” Lando asks Carlos, observing the Monégasque driver.

“Didn’t you hear? They called it all off,” Carlos says as Lando’s head whips over to look at Carlos in shock.

“How did it end?” Lando asks. Charles wants to rage at everyone and everything. It’s never asking how he is doing, only how it ended.

“I don’t know,” Carlos shrugs.

Charles knows how it goes, if he tells someone what happened, they will promise to keep it to themselves but end up telling all of their friends. It’s a spectacle, every time a failed relationship of his makes light.

You show up to the race in disguise, having been dragged out of your apartment by your friends.

“He looks miserable,” you say, watching Charles on the screens. It’s not too noticeable to anyone who doesn’t know him well.

“The same as you. Maybe you should reach out,” one of your friends suggests as you stand at the front of the barriers for the Ferrari fan zone.

“I, I shouldn’t. We broke up for a reason,” you tell her, not noticing Charles’ gaze on you.

“Maybe so, but it seems like you two need to talk,” she says and you look up at Charles who holds your gaze for a second.

“Maybe,” you can’t help the slight blush that appears on your cheeks. After the event, you see a text from him in your messages. You never blocked Charles’ number, you couldn’t bring yourself to.

You meet Charles at a park nearby, and it’s starting to feel like a bad idea.

“I’m sorry for all the media attention that came with the breakup,” Charles starts and you feel anger flare up.

“That’s what you are sorry for?”

“No! Well, yes, but I’m also sorry that I never publicly showed you off. All I could think about the past few weeks is how much I wanted you by my side. I love you, you are different than anyone I’ve dated before,” Charles corrects himself.

“Charles, don’t say that. Of course, I love you too, but I know how this goes. You will try and change, and things will be okay for a little, but then they will revert to how they were,” you sit on the bench nearby.

“No, they won’t,” he rebuts, but you don’t believe it.

“I hate seeing you miserable, but I can’t be in a relationship that makes me miserable in the long run,” you say, grabbing his hand.

“Y/n,” he trails off, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t opt in to be your odd man out, Charlie. I was going down with the ship. You said you loved me but where were the clues? You never showed me off, I was stuck at home while you were out,” you go on a slight tangent.

“I never meant to cage you, I just wanted to keep you safe. I realize how wrong that was, now. I put the weight of the relationship on you, I’m so sorry,” Charles begins to realize you won’t budge, that you need to protect yourself.

“I’m just getting color back into my face, and you will too. You and I will find someone who meets our needs, and this will be just a small blip in your life,” you smile ruefully, removing your hand from his.

“I’m not the one,” Charles exhales, and you shake your head. You know what’s bothering him and why he’s fighting for you now.

“Ignore them. Those who truly know you don’t believe the reputation the media has spun of you. I’ll be cheering for you, Charlie. Maybe we can be friends one day,” you stand up, taking in the sight of him one last time. Charles watches as you walk away.

Neither of you saw the camera trained on you, but Charles took your advice. When the photo was published with the caption “how did it end?”, he ignored it. And when he finally met the one, he realized you were right once again.

[clockwork-ashes]

Shallow Waters

Summary: Lucien spends the day with Eris (short one-shot).

Note: Thank you to everyone who shared plot ideas! Huge thank you to @acourtofladydeath for sending a whole list about a month ago :) I am back in my Eris era <3

Eris had always loved the forest. 

The trees grew tall in Autumn, little sky to be seen. Leaves fell to the ground on crisp winds and everything was constantly in motion, a comfort, like a boat rocking on gentle waves. 

As a child, Eris would spend hours on his own, preferring solitude to the company of others. The woods has been his safe haven, a place he could exist where the weight of his title as the High Lord’s heir lost some of its significance. 

Whenever Eris needed a break from his father, he would go to his home in the eastern territories. The forest was older, the rivers lovelier. If he could have spent his whole life there, Eris would have done so. His whirling thoughts always fell silent, and he felt the most at peace.

“Did you see me, Eris?” His youngest brother called, his laughter ringing, shattering the quiet.

“Mhm,” Eris hummed, not looking up from his book. Using the forest floor as a table, he scribbled a note in the chapter's margins. “Nicely done, Lucien.”

A moment passed before Lucien spoke again. “You weren’t even looking,” he accused, frustration clear in his voice. 

Eris briefly looked up from the page he was reading, leaning more comfortably against the tree he was sitting under. Lucien had his boots thrown off along the riverbank. His pants were rolled up terribly as he stood knee deep in the water, the fabric soaked through. “I was,” Eris lied. In truth, he did not have the slightest clue of what Lucien had been trying to show him, but he decided it was best not to further hurt his feelings. 

For a child not yet a decade old, he certainly had an attitude, Eris thought. Lucien crossed his arms, brows raised in a way that suggested he doubted his eldest brother. Eris flashed him a small smile, hoping he would simply let it go. 

Lucien threw his hands up in the air, defeated and dramatic. “Can I go deeper?” He asked.

“Don’t drown,” Eris replied, turning his attention to the book still in his hands.  

Eris read more, taking in the information and jotting notes so he could remember his ideas for later. After going through a few more pages, he paused, his stillness predatory when he noticed it was unnervingly silent. 

Eris looked up to see that his brother was no longer in front of him.“Lucien?” He called out, waiting. When there was no response, he repeated himself, tossing his book carelessly to the ground as he stood. 

Eris quickly jogged to the river’s edge, looking downstream. The water shimmered in the light filtering in through the leaves, flowing lazily. His mother would kill him, Eris thought, her favourite son dead, and not even at the High Lord’s hands. And Eris would never be able to forgive himself, not if something had happened to little Lucien.

Panic choked Eris as he stepped into the river, trying to reassure himself with the knowledge that nothing dangerous lived within the shallow waters. 

“What are you doing?” Lucien said, appearing next to Eris in a burst of golden light. His eyes shone brightly, lovely and foreign to Autumn.  

A death sentence.

Eris fell to his knees, the water cold as he reached for Lucien, pulled him close. He had never particularly liked affection as a child, and he liked it even less as a grown male, but he could not help holding Lucien to him in relief.

Like Lucien had done countless times, he put his arms around his older brother’s neck. “What’s wrong?” He asked, genuinely caring, able to read the emotions of those around him easily.

“Nothing,” Eris replied, large hand cupping the back of Lucien’s head. 

“Did you see me this time?” Lucien said innocently, unaware of the genuine worry he had caused, pulling away to look up at Eris with wide eyes. 

He nodded, “Yes.” Lucien smiled, dimples showing. “Yes, I saw, I’m very impressed.” 

Lucien shrugged, pretending it was nothing, but Eris saw through the act. There was pride in the way he held back his small shoulders, confidence at the rare words of approval. “All of you can winnow.” 

Eris knew he was referring to their brothers, but he also knew that they happened to be children of a High Lord. Whoever Lucien’s father might be, he was clearly a powerful male, Eris thought. “Lucien, you must keep it a secret,” he warned, voice serious. “Show no one else, you understand?” 

Lucien looked confused, frowning as he searched Eris’s face for any signs of deception. He looked ready to argue, a stubborn tilt to his mouth. 

“I mean it, Lucien, just for a little while,” Eris tried to have some empathy leak into his tone. 

Lucien must have seen something in Eris’s gaze that convinced him not to say anything more on the subject. “Alright,” he promised, russet eyes glowing gold as he hugged his older brother again, resting his chin on Eris’ shoulder. 

The river’s shallow waters continued to flow around them, and Eris held Lucien tightly.

[joeyalohadream]

turning the tables a little and requesting a sick bucky drabble… except he has NO problem accepting buck’s comfort and care. he’s extremely cranky from his illness but just wants to cuddle him

Hi anon! I took a LONG time to get to this one so I wrote a little more than usual. Hope you like it!

Here's a sick, grumpy Bucky (with everyone but Gale) and caretaker Buck. And, as always - softness and fluff! (Also my first time writing from Gale's POV, so that was fun!)

Word Count: 2,437

“You’re being ridiculous, Bucky. Just go to sick call and take the damn day.”

Gale’s steps stall outside Red’s office on his way to the briefing room. He listens in through the door, doesn’t even have to try really, as the men inside aren’t exactly being quiet.

“What would be ridiculous, Red, would be a healthy person going to sick call.”

Gale rolls his eyes and continues down the hall. He had his suspicions last night when Bucky had retuned much earlier than usual from the Officer’s Club that the other man had been feeling under the weather. But Gale had already been in bed and Bucky had brushed off his questions and given his forehead its customary goodnight kiss before falling into his own cot with a dramatic sigh. He’d been snoring within minutes and had been up before Gale for a meeting with leadership about the handover with Jack on Air Executive duties.

Gale was happy that Bucky would be back in the air with him. The happiness was dimmed by worry, but he knew that it wasn’t something he could affect. He worried about Bucky and Bucky worried about him and they’d both be going up into the sky and maybe wouldn’t be coming back down. It was something they’d have to learn to let into their relationship. To grow with.

But Gale wasn’t happy that Bucky would be spending all day today pretending he was okay when it was obvious to everyone that he wasn’t. There was no mission today, just a briefing on targets of opportunity and work with the ground crews on the forts they took up two days ago.

Bucky would be spending the day working with Jack on Air Executive duties, ensuring their transition went smoothly.

Sitting through the target briefing made his stomach clench with dread and flutter with anticipation at the same time. He exited the building, intending to grab some food before heading out to the tarmac.

Jack’s raised voice coming from the other side of the parachute storage door he was passing stopped him.

“You’re sick, Bucky! I don’t want to catch whatever you’ve got. This can wait until you’re not contagious.”

“I’m not sick. Let’s just get through this shit.”

“Breathe through your nose, Bucky.”

“Fuck you, Jack.”

Gale huffs a laugh and continues on his way.

----

Having to scrub engine grease from his skin is one of the pitfalls of spending time with Ken and his boys. He likes to know his Fort, all of the ins and outs, and he likes the way Ken lights up when Gale asks questions that allow the kid to share his expertise. So, the black grease he’s currently trying to remove from his forearms under the spray of the shower came from a good cause.

He gets the last of it off and moves to wet his hair as voices filter into the washroom. They stop around the wall where the sink basins are and Gale smiles when he hears its Bucky.

“Leave it, Curt.” Gale frowns at the nasally sounding tone.

“I’m just sayin’,” Curt’s accented voice joins the fray as Gale scrubs his hair. “Harding didn’t say he needed you to bring him the inventory report. Just give it to me and I’ll take it.”

“I’m not even fucking done with it,” Bucky groans.

“Then make Jack finish it. He’s air exec now,” Curt recommends. “The boring shit is his job as of today.”

“I just need to finish it and be done with it all.”

A lot of people look at Bucky and see a cocky pilot, which Gale will concede, he is.  But only the ones that really know him know that he has a tenacious work ethic. It’s paired with a shit attention span that makes things harder on him, but Gale admires the hell out of him.

“You need to go get yourself some medicine,” Curt snipes. “There’s some real pretty nurses in the sick bay, sure they’d love to get their hands on you.”

Gale rolls his eyes at Curt’s suggestive tone and then smiles when he hears Bucky’s reply.

“Yeah, not interested.”

“Since when?”

“And I’m not sick,” Bucky’s rough voice growls out and it makes Gale glare at the wall between them.

“You could literally cook an egg on your forehead.”

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

“You touch everyone all the goddamn time!”

Gale can’t help but chuckle at Curt’s fading words as he must be exiting the washroom. He closes his eyes and tips his back under the spray of the shower. When he opens them again, he can’t help but startle slightly as he sees Bucky’s flushed face peeking at him from around the wall.

“Lookin’ good, Buck,” Bucky throws him a roguish wink, eyes definitely not on his face. Gale throws his bar of soap in his direction and laughs as Bucky ducks back behind the wall to avoid it. His laughter fades out as he too exits the washroom.

That had been Gale’s first look at Bucky all day and he’d have to be blind not to notice the fever spots on his cheeks. He’d been planning to spend the rest of his day going over the mission planning briefs but he changes his mind as he turns off the shower, dries off and heads back to their quarters.

He leaves his hair mussed and falling over his forehead, puts on his PT gear and heads for the sick bay.

----

Gale’s sitting on his cot when the guys return from dinner, Bucky bringing up the rear. He smiles when Bucky’s eyes immediately search him out, heart warming at the relief he sees on the other man’s face when he finds him.

“Why don’t you want to go to Officer’s Club with us, Bucky?” Crank asks, voice teasing.

“I’ve gotta get up early,” Bucky grumbles back, making his way towards his cot, directly across from Gale’s own.

“We have the same schedule now that you’re back with us,” Crank points out. “And we don’t have anywhere to be until 1100.”

Bucky doesn’t answer, just sits heavily on his cot and glares back at Crank.

“Just get your shit and get the hell outta here,” Bucky snarks. “Those Red Cross girls are all gonna be taken if you all keep dawdling.”

“You don’t want to come find one for yourself?” Crank pushes.

“I really don’t,” Bucky pushes back.

“Now that right there proves it,” Crank laughs. “Just admit that you’re sick!”

“Just mind your own fucking business!” Bucky turns away from the room and starts taking off his boots.

Gale raises an eyebrow at Crank when he gets his attention and makes a motion with his head. Crank raises his hands in surrender and backs away.

Bucky gives Gale a small smile after he gathers his toiletries and moves to head to the showers. Gale returns the smile and then tries not to glare at the rest of the men until they all finally exit the barracks, headed for their drinks and their women.

“You got him?” Curt asks as he’s about to walk out the door.

“Always do,” Gale nods. Curt looks satisfied and heads out into the dusk.

Gale uses his time alone to prepare Bucky’s cot. He straightens the sheets, fluffs the pillow and adds one of his own to the mix. Pulls the blanket back so it looks inviting.

Then he sets up his supplies on his own footlocker and waits for Bucky.

Only a few minutes pass before shuffling footsteps draw his attention to Bucky’s slow-moving figure making his way to him, dressed in a pair of their cold weather PT pants and long sleeve shirt, rubbing a towel of his head. When he pulls it away, his curls are a mess.

Gale can’t keep the fond smile off his lips as he stands up, blocking Bucky’s path once he reaches their cots. He takes the towel and his toiletries from his hands and drops them onto Bucky’s footlocker and then he just looks at him.

They’re standing a foot apart and Bucky looks into his eyes for a beat before his shoulders sag and his eyes get a little bigger and he huffs out a pitiful sounding sigh.

“Buck,” he practically whines, and Gale takes advantage of their solitude by stepping closer and reaching forward to cup the older man’s too-warm cheek. “I don’t feel good.”

“I know, John,” Gale soothes, letting his thumb caress the heated skin beneath it. He smiles when Bucky rests the weight of head in his hand and closes his eyes. The fact that he doesn’t grouch at him, doesn’t try to hide anything from him like he’s been doing all day with everyone else makes affection bloom in his chest.

“Missed you today,” Bucky breathes out.

“Missed you too,” Gale admits. He misses Bucky whenever they’re not in the same room and it concerns him a little how attached he’s gotten.

“Come sit down,” Gale uses his free hand to latch onto the front of Bucky’s shirt and gives him a tug. He drops his hand from his face and moves it to his arm as he guides him to his cot. “I got you some stuff.”

Bucky sits down heavily, a groan escaping him, and Gale has been subject to enough sickness to know that his fever is probably making his whole-body ache. He winces in sympathy and grabs one of the fever-reducing tablets he’d gotten from the nurse earlier, places it in Bucky’s palm and hands him his canteen.

“Where’d you get these?” Bucky asks before he swallows the pill with a pull of water that leaves him grimacing.

“Sick bay,” Gale tells him.

“They just handing out these things to anyone that asks now?”

“Kinda told them I wasn’t feeling well,” he shrugs and sits down next to Bucky.

“You, Gale Cleven, lied to a medical professional?” Bucky looks scandalized, but there is a smirk playing at his lips. “And they believed you?”

“Sure did,” Gale reaches forward and grabs the mess kit from the footlocker.

“But you’re a terrible liar,” Bucky points out.

“I might have played it up a bit,” Gale admits sheepishly, still feeling embarrassed for his impromptu acting session. “Gave them that look you always say I give you.”

“You gave them the big, sad-puppy eyes?” Bucky looks offended. “Those eyes are supposed to be just for me.”

“They are Bucky,” Gale squeezes his knee. “I used them today for you.”

“You hate doctors,” Bucky reminds him. “You even hate nurses.”

“Love you, though,” Gale smiles at him and Bucky’s eyes widen a bit before he smiles back. Gale’s favorite big dopey grin lighting up his whole face.

“Now, eat this,” Gale put the mess kit into Bucky’s hand and unlatches the lid, revealing a salty broth. “Got it from the Red Cross van. It’s probably not hot anymore but should be warm. Guessing you didn’t eat any dinner.”

“Did you?” Bucky narrows his eyes at him, and Gale gives him his most innocent look. Knows that Bucky sees right through it, but he also understands that Gale hasn’t had much of an appetite since his first mission and he’s thankful when Bucky lets it lie. Knows that the fact that he does is evidence of how terrible he’s feeling.

Bucky foregoes the spoon and lifts the whole tin to his mouth, drinking from it like it’s a cup. He takes several big gulps and Gale laughs when he finishes it in under a minute.

“S’good,” Bucky wipes his mouth with his hand and gives the empty tin back to Gale.

“Should’ve gotten you more,” Gale frowns at the empty dish.

“It was perfect Buck,” Bucky knocks their knees together and then turns his head away to cough. Gale stows away the dish and turns back in time to see Bucky’s flushed face smiling at him. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

Gale feels his own cheeks heat up and curses Bucky’s ability to make him feel so damn flustered, wishes sweet words came as easily to him so he could return the favor.

“I just wanna go to sleep,” Bucky sounds tired, and a yawn follows his words.

“Lay down,” Gale moves aside and helps Bucky recline. He pulls the blanket over him and places his hand on his forehead, frowning at the heat he feels.

“Stop worrying,” Bucky tells him, blinking slowly at him.

“You always worry about me,” Gale points out. “Let me have my turn.”

He smooths his hand through Bucky’s curls, letting his fingers scritch his scalp, satisfied when Bucky’s eyes close and a look of contentment stretches across his features.

“Can you lay down with me?” Bucky’s rough voice asks.

And Gale knows he shouldn’t. Knows any one of the guys could come back for any number of reasons at any time. Knows he won’t have an explanation for being in Bucky’s cot with him. Knows the last thing Bucky’s fever needs is another warm body against his.

“Please,” Bucky opens his eyes and pushes head more firmly into Gale’s hand. “Just want to lay with you for a little bit. Just till I fall asleep?”

And how can Gale say no to him? He’s sick and tired and feels miserable and for some reason the only thing, the only person he lets see it all is him. Gale doesn’t know what he did to deserve that trust, but he’ll do anything to keep it. He’s never had anyone need him like Bucky does, never had anyone want him like he does, and he’s definitely never had anyone love like he does. Gale couldn’t say no for anything in the world.

He leans forward and presses his lips to Bucky’s over-heated forehead before crawling onto the cot. Bucky scoots over and pushes Gale on his back, arranges him how he wants him. He smiles at him, slow and sweet and then plops down, lays his head down so it’s pillowed on Gale’s chest, arm thrown over his waist.

Gale turns his head so his lips rest on the crown of his head, nose in his damp curls and puts his arm around Bucky’s back to hold him in place as he goes boneless against him.

“Can you pet my hair again?” Bucky’s sleep-deep voice mumbles into his chest and Gale huffs a laugh. But he brings his other hand up and buries it in his curls, scratches at his scalp.

“Go to sleep Bucky,” he soothes.

“Love you, Buck.”

Gale smiles into his hair and holds him a little closer.

[eternal-ascensionism]

Song Fic maybe???

Hii! I have a request for you, its a Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader idea with the song "Love Again" by Dua Lipa. Where maybe reader has been through some tough/ toxic relationships and swears off of romance once they joined the avengers but then when Bucky returns from Wakanda the reader begins to develope a crush on Bucky as he flirts with them after having a crush on her from the moment he met them. Maybe the reader thoughts align with the lyrics of the song and in the end the reader lets their heart open and starts dating Bucky after he knocks down all of thier walls :) (Also reader can be female or GN and I tried to give you some like guide but didn't want to restrict you!) Hope you have a good day :D

Ok first anon I love you sm for puttin me on this song it BANGS and I love this idea sm!!!

This is technically more like avengers assistant!reader because I suck at finding cohesive ways to fit an original character into the avengers team ((I have tried since I was 16 LMAO)) but hopefully it still works! Hope you enjoy!

Heaven’s Right Here, Baby 

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Themes: Angst, comfort, fluff

Warnings:Angst; discussions of: war, PTSD, abusive relationships, trauma bonding, etc. (if you pick up on any I’ve missed pleeease let me know!!)

—!—

I glance upward as I hear the rumble above, eyes squinting against the sun’s rays. For some unknown reason, I’d been expecting some grand aircraft; a sleek jet or maybe one of the large helicarriers I’d seen in the hangar back at the Avengers’ HQ when I first arrived. What I was met with was a rather modest plane I’d estimate could fit ten passengers at best. It didn’t really matter, I knew the man aboard couldn’t care less about materialism or prestige. Still, he was one of our team’s brightest and most respected members. It simply felt odd to receive him back via such underwhelming conditions. 

Up until this point, I’d only ever worked basic civilian jobs or the occasional temp gig. However after a particularly traumatic breakup, I’d decided that being miserable and barely living above the poverty line wasn’t cutting it anymore. It took a good few years and a considerable amount of ass kissing, but I eventually got offered a role as an assistant of sorts for Nick Fury in New York City.

Natasha was the first person I’d found myself bonding with; the first night I’d spent in the tower was a long one, and she had spent a large chunk of it comforting me by making me laugh with her Captain America impression. Funnily enough, I’d meet Steve Rogers the next morning in the kitchen. He walked into the kitchen and shook my hand, exchanging names and pleasantries with me as the rest of the team filtered in. I watched anxiously as they all began to dig into the food; I couldn’t pinpoint why, but I found myself desperate to impress each of my new coworkers.

Introductions were made, meals were finished, and I beamed at the compliments toward my cooking. To my surprise the conversations seemed to flow naturally. I couldn’t help but linger on one man in particular, though. His metal arm gleamed brilliantly in the lighting of the spacious dining area. He was a man of few words. Bucky, they called him. The next month consisted of me making a fool of myself through several missions, distracted each time by that smolder and the tortured look behind his eyes. It was a look I knew all too well. Still, I didn’t dare approach sergeant Barnes out of fear. Whether it be fear of authority or my lingering fear of men, I wasn’t sure. Didn’t make much difference; the less interactions, the better. The last thing I needed was to get in over my head during what’s meant to be my fresh start.

Today was his return from the last stage of a program for training and rehab that began long before I came into the picture. From what I understood, it all began a few years back when the late King T’Challa harbored Bucky; partly as a favor to Steve, and partly out of respect for the sergeant. He saw James Buchanan Barnes beyond the outgrown hair and the guarded demeanor. He saw someone worth fighting to save. By the time I’d arrived, his reserved nature had let up a bit. We both exhibit similar acts such as hypervigilance, but I suppose that’ll always remain in some small way. We’re part of the team tasked with ensuring the safety of earth, after all.

I wave a hand to Bucky as he steps off the walkway, a bag slung over his shoulder. When he sees me and the team, he shoots us a small grin. It wasn’t until he made it halfway across the asphalt that I registered the changes of his left arm. The once scuffed and faded titanium had been replaced with a new, higher quality gold and silver prosthetic.

“Vibranium,” Bucky offers, having picked up on my stare. “Shuri helped me.”

I felt a pang in my chest as he looked at it proudly. It was the same ache I’d gotten every time I’d bore witness to sergeant Barnes letting pieces of his real self shine through. I could try and lie to myself, but I’m grown. I know what it means to have feelings for someone. As much as I’d fought to stay neutral from the beginning, something about Bucky had always pulled at my heart. I would never let him know, but he’d melted some part of me that I’d spent years freezing out. Still, I’d vowed to keep to the professional relationship I’ve created with the former soldier. I couldn’t risk letting something like random feelings of fondness jeopardize my job. I am here to help others and to run away from my demons, nothing more and nothing less.

-

“I never thought that I would find a way out, I never thought I’d hear my heart beat so loud. I can’t believe there’s something left in my chest anymore”

-

Upon our entry to the tower, we were met by the quiet humming of music. Puzzled, we all made our way to the lounge area where we found Tony behind the bar in the corner. He raised a glass of amber-colored liquid in our direction as a greeting. “Welcome back, Barnes. Dig the new scrap pieces.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and pointed to the speakers built into the tall ceiling overhead. “Thanks. What’s with the music?” Swinging around the bar to stand in front of us, Tony smirked.

“What? Can’t we have a little homecoming celebration? We missed you, bud.” Before he could reply, Natasha interjected, grabbing Tony’s free hand.

“In that case, let’s dance. You’ve only got six months before your wedding and Pepper is gonna kill you if you step on her white heels.”

I watch in glee as Nat drags Tony away to the open space near the couch to practice his moves for the big day. Everyone branched off into pairs, leaving me standing at the bar with a can of soda while Bucky perched on the arm of the recliner. These little moments of joy made being alive less painful each day. I continued observing my teammates for a while before hearing someone clear their throat from beside me. “Wanna dance, doll?”

The low timbre gave him away without so much as a sideways glance. It was sergeant Barnes. Asking me to dance. With him. Ignoring the cold sensation shooting through my veins, I threw him a smile and nodded. Offering me a hand, we make our way over to the spot where the others are swaying to the crooning of an early 1900s love song. With the way Bucky and Steve perked up as it came on, I’d be willing to bet they were grooving to it back in the days of its first release. The thought warms my heart, and I risk placing my head on Bucky’s shoulder as we let the music guide us. Maybe trusting him for one dance wouldn’t hurt. Maybe it’s okay to let my guard down just this once.

-

“I never knew I had it in me to dance anymore, but god damn, you’ve got me in love again.”

-

Love. That’s what it was. I hated to admit it to myself, it scared me to the point of lost sleep and vomiting, quite frankly. But I couldn’t bear pretending any more. Bucky had been back in New York for all of two weeks before we started being sent on missions together to gather intel on a potential threat. I didn’t know the details, they only ever told me what was absolutely necessary to carry out a job. They explained it was so that if I were to be caught, I could play dumb as a simple civilian caught up in bigger matters on accident. You never know what tactics someone may have to pull the truth from you, but there’s nothing to be extracted if I truly know nothing. However, at the current moment, I wished for little more than to be pulled from this room and dragged elsewhere. I tear my eyes from my debrief notes to stare back at the disheveled man sat across from me. I had yet to fully process what he asked.

“What?” His frown deepens, and I almost regret asking him to repeat himself.

“Do you think I’m someone you could love?”

I was completely taken aback. Sure, the sergeant and I had some pretty deep conversations in the past. We weren’t incredibly close before his return, both of us being highly traumatized and reserved people; but pair long missions with hours spent staring off into the night watching for movement and we had begun to fill the void. He relayed stories of war and torture, and I recounted memories of toxic relationships and a traumatic childhood. It only seemed natural that we eventually progressed into becoming each other’s confidant over the last few months. When we accepted the latest task I expected us to exchange banter, maybe make up some new inside jokes. I didn’t expect it to devolve into a raw and emotional conversation about our past hurts and shortcomings. Bucky had opened up about the women he’d met before the war, branching off into a story where he’d tried to make something work with a woman he’d met briefly in Romania before he’d had to go back on the run. I could see the pain in his expression, I could hear the slight waver in his voice as he tried making sense of where he’d gone wrong in life to deserve it all.

Then he looked up at me, those big grey-blue eyes shining with unshed tears, and he asked me the one question that I know will change everything. Is he someone I could love? When he asked, I realized I already know the answer. I already know I love him.

“Yes.” He blinks at me, seemingly in shock, but I just continue. “I don’t have to think about it, Buck. I love you because you are worthy of being loved. I love you because you are inherently lovable. I love how you care about people, I love how you fight fiercely to protect them. I love how intelligent you are, and how you never use that against others. I love how you make me feel safe. I love how you’ve never given me a reason to question your motives like all the other men I’ve let into my life. I love you, and I didn’t even think I could love again.” I dabbed my sleeve over the wetness pooling under my eyes, chuckling at my own intense reaction. Discussing my feelings was never easy, but it just came naturally with Bucky.

Two hands came up to hold my cheeks as Bucky looked at my face, perhaps studying me for any sign of deceit or sarcasm. I meant every word, though. He wrapped me up in a tight hug, and after he pulled back, I felt a sudden confidence. I leaned in and pressed a soft peck to his stubble-covered cheek, delighting in the light red tint that washed over his face.

“I love you too, doll. I didn’t wanna scare you away, you mean the world to me. Just didn’t imagine you’d feel the same. Not that I’d blame you, with what you’ve told me about the others I wouldn’t blame ya if you never spoke to a man again.” Bucky laid a gentle kiss to the back of my hand that still rested in his. “Honored to be the one you trust.”

“Never have I ever met somebody like you, used to be afraid of love and what it might do. But god damn, you’ve got me in love again”

—!—

HELLO I REALLY HOPE THIS WAS WHAT YOU WANTED! I’m sorry it took me so long to finish I kept branching off with different ideas before settling on one cohesive concept and hopefully I did a decent job following your prompt! Thank you sooo much for the request this was super fun to write and honestly kickstarted my productivity which has been in the shitter since like pre 2020 lmao bless you guys <333

[prentissluvr]

you'd dance with me? — sam winchester

for : 200+ followers event [ closed ] ➖⟢ pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : fluff, light angst ➖⟢ cw : reader gets sort of stood up, alcohol, reader is tipsy, swearing, (not) unrequited love, barely edited ➖⟢ wc : 1.4K prompt : telling them they deserve better (and silently wanting to be the one who gives it to them)

the man from the bar, james, isn’t your exact type. no one is except for sam, because you’re irrevocably in love with him. but since you can’t have him, and you’re dying to have a fun night without every second being consumed by thoughts of him, how much you love him, and how much you’re sure he doesn’t love you back, you turn to flirting with the nearest handsome single man.

and that means james. james has been nice enough and asked you to call him jamie, because “that’s what his friends call him.” dean gave you an impressed look as you walked past with “jamie” on your arm, and you winked at him, feeling playful and hopeful for a fun night after a tiring hunt. dean grinned back and sam barely gave any indication he noticed you before you settled at the bar and launched into a decently boring conversation with james about his corporate job and the fake life that you spin up for him.

that was over half an hour ago and it’s been at least twenty minutes since james excused himself to the bathroom with the promise that he’d be right back. you know he’s not coming back, but you stay rooted to your seat anyway.

it takes a few more minutes before sam appears, taking the previous man’s spot by your side.

“he left, didn’t he?” you ask, forlorn and not even bothering to look at sam as he settles next to you. sam cringes and nods. you sigh, not having to turn your head to see the movement through the corner of your eye as he confirms your suspicions. sam wonders if he should tell you that the asshole left with someone else. you deserve to know, but he’s hyperaware that it’ll only add to the sting. 

he takes in the look on your face and the empty shot glass that you fiddle with, and he immediately knows that you’re much more upset by this than you normally would be. of course, the situation is completely shitty, for anyone, but on any other day, you’d probably brush it off by looking for someone better or heading back to sit with him and dean for some fun with them (if dean’s still around by then). today, you’re alone and at least an extra shot or two in since the guy left, likely making you more tipsy than you intended to get tonight. more than that, the frown on your lips is easy to see and read, far different from the smile you normally give him when you’re pretending not to care. tonight you don't attempt hide it.

“you okay?” he finally asks. you sigh again and surprise him a bit by dropping your head on his shoulder. this kind of touch between the two of you isn’t abnormal, but these days it feels like you’re avoiding it a little, which sort of kills him. it takes you a moment to answer, but when you do, sam’s heart clenches.

“i just wanted to dance with someone tonight.” your voice is sad and candid from the removal of your filter by the alcohol in your system. for a moment, sam is blindingly angry with the asshole that stood you up, and he has to hold back a vehement curse before recentering his focus on you and the sad pull between your eyebrows. he just clenches his jaw and lets you say what you need to before he lets any of the million things he wants to tell you fall from his lips. “he said he’d dance with me when he got back… then he didn’t come back. d’you think it’s stupid i wanted to dance? think that’s why he left?” 

now sam’s heart is plain-old breaking for you. he wants to ring the neck of the stupid man that made you question yourself like this, made your voice sound so dejected. then he wants to sweep you up in his arms and hold you close and kiss your forehead and tell you that it’s the sweetest, most endearing thing in the world that you want to dance. tell you that he’ll dance with you every night despite the fact that he can’t do much more than hold you and sway with you. tell you that he’s completely and enduringly in love with you. he discovered that recently, though he figures it’s been true for a long while now.

he has to settle for something a little more tame because you’re upset over another guy, because you're a little tipsy, and because he can’t lose your friendships if those words don’t come across well.

sam puts his arm around your shoulders and you sink further into him. “if that’s why he left, he’s an idiot. anyone in their right mind would trip over their own feet to dance with you. no one in their right mind would leave you– someone like you, sitting here alone,” he says your name so soft and loving that he thinks he’s given himself away until he remembers you’re not picking up on everything right now, “he didn’t deserve you. you deserve a whole lot better than that ass.” i’d be so good to you, he thinks.

“yeah,” you agree, still sounding a little despondent.

“if you– if you still wanna dance, you’ve got a willing partner,” sam forges ahead, anything to make you smile.

“mm, where? james probably left with someone else, for all i know.” he doesn’t like that man’s name on your lips, and maybe you’re a little more drunk than he thought, because you’re not getting the hint as quickly as you normally would. if you were sober and trying not to act upset, you’d say that all with a playful tone to your voice to tease him for offering. right now, you just sound sort of unbelieving.

“you know,” sam responds, keeping his voice just as serious as yours instead of matching that tease like he normally would.

this time you let a bit of humor slip into your voice, but it’s still sort of pessimistic, “what? are you gonna drag dean away from whatever girl he’s found just to cheer up my sorry ass?” sam has to laugh a little at that thought, because it’s a silly image and almost funny how you refuse to see him as an option.

“your ass isn’t sorry,” sam smiles all soft when that pulls a half-hearted snort from you. his voice is still gentle as he finally says, “i’m right here, you know.”

when you tilt your head up to look at his face, and finally, finally, he gets your eyes on his, he almost melts to the floor. you’re looking at him, sweet and soft with your eyebrows pinched together like you’re not sure if he meant it. then there’s that little hint of hope and joy swimming around in the pretty pools of your eyes and it sets his heart afire, just like that. you’ve done just about nothing special, but to him you’ve done everything.

“you’d wanna dance with me?” you say it like you can’t believe it, like that’s exactly what you’d really been hoping for all night and it takes everything in sam’s power not to swoop down and kiss you right then and there. he’d wanna do a whole lot more than dance with you, but it’s a wonderful, glorious, honey-sweet way to start, he thinks.

“of course,” he grins at you, and that’s all it takes to pull a big smile over your features too. that’s just about everything sam could ever ask for, and it brings a flood of relief over him. he just can’t help himself when he asks, “that is, if you’d want to dance with me? i’m sure i’m not your ideal dancing partner for the night, but hopefully i’ll do.”

“of course i want to dance with you, sam,” you say, so blatantly honest that it makes his heart hurt, “and that’s not true.” you won’t explain what you mean by that, so sam stands with you and gladly lets you use him for balance. it’s not true that he’s not your ideal dancing partner? is that what you meant? he certainly hopes so, because that must mean, by default, he is your ideal dancing partner, and you wanted to dance with him tonight, not this awful james.

maybe you love him back a little, he hopes, as your wrap your arms around his middle and let him sway you back and forth, all gentle and smiling.

[miaowitch]

Learning Your Lesson (18+)

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Read on Ao3 or below!!

M!Whitney the Bully (DOL) / GN! Reader

cw ⋆｡‧˚♡ smut, spanking, name-calling (slut, pet, bitch, etc..), petplay-ish, swearing, Dom/Sub concepts, fingerfucking, ambiguous hole reference for GN posterity

summary ⋆｡‧˚♡

You love your boyfriend, simple as that. Talking to him is a natural want, it's not like you were bothering anyone by telling him about your day. But, it's Whitney we're talking about, so of course you're bothering him. Your punishment is harsh, but it surely comes from a place of care...right?

1.2k words

confession ⋆｡‧˚♡ ;; started playing degrees of lewdity, and accidentally fell in too deep <3 i hope you guys enjoy! i know its not super long, but i really needed to get this one out

You don’t often push him to the limit, but everyone has their breaking point. 

Sure, you’d invited him over to hang out, but that didn’t mean he needed to be in a good mood. Coming over, in his mind, was supposed to be somewhere he could relax without the annoying dicks in his friend group. Sorely, he was mistaken. You were simply excited to have your boyfriend in your room, talking about anything that came across your mind. But Whitney couldn’t fucking take it anymore. 

Lying across Whitney’s lap, you’d been warned so many times before. Pressing his buttons, disobeying his commands. Even if you’d been his little pet, but defiance was a running streak in you. Telling you to shut the fuck up just didn’t work, so he decided it was time to put you in your place. “Now, what did I tell you?” He spoke as the nicotine rolled off his tongue, the cigarette resting in between the fingers placed on the top of your butt.

It was really your fault getting into a situation like this. With your hips bent over his knee, ass perched in the air, with his hand firmly holding you in place by the back of your neck. Vulnerable, you were in the palm of his hand in the most literal sense. “Stop fucking chattering in my damn ear, bitch.” His hand left its place on your neck to grab at your hair with authority. 

You whined his name, a high toned beg for mercy. As if he’d relent. Placing the cigarette back between his lips, he pulled tight at your hair as if it were a warning. A quick slap sounded in your room, his palm making contact with your bare ass. Underwear and shorts pooled at your ankles, writhing at the pain of the harsh sting. 

“C’mon, you’re not even gonna cry?” He sighed, his next slap hitting hard enough to leave a pink blush across the skin. 

“N-No–” You managed to fight back, to his own pleasure. In his jeans, his dick pressed firm against the seam. He wouldn’t give you what he knew you craved. Fucking ungrateful brats don’t get what they want. “Fine.” Flicking his filter-burnt cigarette onto your hardwood, smoke blew out from his nostrils in a huff. If you wanted to be so stubborn, he’d just have to make you cry. 

You managed to take a breath in his moment of deliberation, almost getting too comfortable in the concept of him letting you go before another sharp impact hit. With a swear escaping you, you stifled back the whimpers from the surprise.  “Fuck, Whitney, what the hell…?” Your voice almost moaning out, Whitney’s face heated up. His usual sadistic smile splitting after hitting you for a fourth time, then a fifth. 

Relentless in dealing out pain, it’s not like you weren’t used to his frequent punishments. Whitney was just like this, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t even into it. The pain was a little hard to adjust to, but even now, you dripped onto his leg. The sting sending pleasure up your spine, shaking through the sixth hit. It almost felt numb until he quickly cracked down again. His own sick joy spawned from a place of watching you squirm under his touch.

Finally, a cry slipped out. In the middle of taking a shaky breath, his broad hand cracked against your tender skin. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, even trying to fight the feeling seemed to cause more to well up. Fighting it was futile, even Whitney seemed to pity his poor pet. A soft coo escaped him, “Has my slut learned their lesson yet?” He released your hair, petting back your tussled strands that escaped his hands.

Tears managed to creep from their ducts, unwillingly fluttering your lashes to get them out. Moments where Whitney felt the slightest sympathy were rare, but never unwanted. A moan quietly sounding under the affectionate pets. The old desk chair under the two of you creaked in response to Whitney’s legs spreading further, your back stiffening at the feeling.

“Hmm…” His hand moved from your hand, his body jittered with excitement. He wondered how far he’d take it, was he done? He could easily march you out the door and fuck you in the hall for everyone to see, or even on the sidewalk outside. Whitney’s other hand was red from the discipline, but still he rubbed gentle circles into your own imprinted skin. On the other hand, he wanted to keep you to himself, a rare moment of privacy between the two of you. 

With his middle and ring finger, he slipped down your slit. Teasing at your wanting hole, running his dry fingers just lightly over the surface. “P-Please…” You beg, trying to push against the pressure. Stupid fucking desperate whore. The throbbing in his pants was almost enough of a reason to deny you, if he wasn’t giving in, neither would you. Until those sweet begs became more urgent, choking out like sobs. 

Whitney swallowed the painful tension in his throat, a firm ball of desire that goading him into fucking the brains out of you.

After all…you did learn your lesson. And he wasn’t the most unkind master in the world, his special pet needed a reward for taking their spankings so well. His two fingers plunged into your hole without warning, granting mercy for your sweet desire. A low hum of pleasure rose from his chest, watching his fingers pull sticky trails of your cum with each pull out. “God, you’re so fucking nasty..” He spoke quietly to hold in his own moans from breaking out.

Spilling all of his secrets about how much he loved watching you beg for just his fingers to fuck the sense out of you. Secrets that revealed just how happy he was being your boyfriend, being the one guy who you’d willingly fuck yourself stupid for. He wondered if the whole orphanage could hear you begging for more, not that he even cared. Whitney just wanted you to be his dumb pet forever. Without humoring the seriousness of the thought, he focused on pounding his knuckles into your dripping cunt. 

Milking out your orgasm was easy, hooking his fingers inside and circling around to drive you crazy. Your back arching and legs flailing behind you. Whitney bit at his lip, watching the sweat beading on your back. Pulling his fingers from your gasping hole, he wrapped his hand around to make you clean the white slick off his fingers.

Gratefully, you sucked. As if it was a treat for letting him fuck you out. Your eyes looking up at him as he towered, thanking him without saying a single thing. Whitney knows just how hard you work to keep him happy, so he figured it wouldn’t hurt to play a little more with his favorite slut.

“Get on the bed, bitch.” He smiled, detaching his fingers from your mouth with a soft pop. Happily unbuttoning his jeans as you scurried onto the bed, not wanting to disobey him anymore than you already have. 

Whitney wouldn’t have it any other way.

[androgynousblackbox]

How To Lose A Lucifer in 10 days. 1 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

Te sequel to How I Met Your Father.

A03 link

Step 1: Invite him to your daughter's birthday

It was by all accounts another normal day in hell. Lucifer sipped his tea as he heard the screams of the tortured souls, ocassionally accompanied by a growly laughter passing through a filter. Pretty normal indeed. He breathed in the smell of the breakfast already made for the other residents enjoying themselves at the table.

"Good morning everyone" greeted Charlie in the middle of a yawn.

Lucifer almost spilled his drink on top of himself on his rush to adress her. He coughed a little and left the mug on the counter, going up to her.

"Charlie!" said, hugging her tight. "Happy birthday, duckling! Aww, I can believe you are getting a year bigger! But you are still my baby girl and don't you forget it" cooed, pinching the cheek of Charlie softly until she giggled, moving her blushing head away.

"Thanks, papa" said, accepting the kiss on her cheek Lucifer. She looked around at the plates and tables, smiling to everyone, but noticing one particular absence. "Where is dad?"

"Oh, taking care of some overlords that were waiting outside" said Lucifer naturally, taking her hand to sit at the head of the table.

"It was kinda awesome" admitted Angel, still a bit sleepy. "Those guys brought canons with them and I saw Smiley just catching the balls in one hand. Hah, get it?" asked to Husk, who rolled his eyes and pushed him without too much force, murmuring it was too early for his bullshit.

"He didn't want you to deal with any reparations today, sweetie" said Lucifer, already serving her a pile of freshly made pancakes with melted chocolate on top. He snapped his fingers to serve her her favorite tea, with her favorite cookies on the side and jams for the toast. "Today we don't want you moving a single muscle. Just relax and let us take care of everything."

"Papa, it's okay."

"No, it has been decided" insisted Lucifer, moving another chair to receive a more sleepy Vaggie. She ploped on her seat, saying a quiet good morning before summerging her face on her own mug. "Today Emily wanted to take you out to the mall, right, sweetie?" asked over his shoulder, seeing a still wearing pajamas Emily come to the table.

Her hair was messy and she was rubbing her eyes, but at seeing Charlie she perked up instantly.

"Charlie!" squaled, running to hug her head. "Happy day of birth! For one more year of conscious existence and that you have many more to come!"

Back in Heaven they didn't celebrate birthdays. There was no need when every day was equally perfect. Despite that, she had been genuinely excited to participate on this particular tradition if it meant making someone else happy. Even if that wasn't already his purpose, spreading joy to those around her was just a natural part of her character.

"Aww, thank you, Emily" Charlie smiled, not bothering to correct her on anything. It was the sentiment that mattered anyway. "So you had plans?"

"Yes, absolutely!" perked up Emily, sitting on another chair and smiling when Lucifer left another plate of pancajes in front of her, adding a kiss on her cheek. "I went pass the mall the other day and they have so many new things we could do! We could have lunch there too if you want. What do you say, Vaggie?"

"Awesome" yawned Vaggie, lifting a thumb up.

"Uhm, are you okay?" asked Angel, arching an eyebrow. "Normally you are ready to yell at us to better leave this table clean."

"Stayed late to wait a delivery. They were very particular about the hour" commented Vaggie with another yawn, smiling up to Charlie. "Your present is already wrapped and ready, honey. But no opening until the party."

"I know that already, Vaggie" said Charlie, barely containing her smile. "Can I get a little clue at least? A tiny hint? At least tell me with which letter starts! No, wait, don't tell me! Unless you want to?"

"Nope" Vaggie chuckled when Charlie pouted. "I think you will like it, that is all I am going to say."

"That doesn't tell me anything. If it comes from you, of course I am going to like it!"

"Well, it's going to be an actual surprise then" Vaggie reached over to pat her hand and then looked around, frowning. "Isn't more quiet now?"

"The trash has been taken out, no need to thank me" announced Alastor, entering the kitchen with the flashiest smile that could fit his face. Anyone who looked at him would have thought he had just come back from the best nap ever. He strode over to Charlie to kiss her temple, rubbing her shoulders. "Happy birthday, my little fawn. You are officially relieved of your duties for today. I trust your father already told you."

"Yeah, I did" said Lucifer, bringing over a plate with cooked meat he had waiting for him. Alastor licked his lips ostensibly as he moved to another empty chair, patting the head of Emily when passing at her side. He sat down with fork and knife in hand, not waiting for anything else before he dig in. His ears twitched sligthly. "You girls go have fun. We can take care of everything."

Charlie sighed, knowing that when both of her parents agreed on anything then there was nothing else to do.

"Fine" accepted reluctantly. "But if someone new comes…"

"I will recieve them properly. My job is still part of that, dear" said Alastor, after swallowing a mouthful. Lucifer left his cup of boiling coffee nearby before sitting at his side. "Thank you, darling."

"You are welcome" Lucifer patted his hand before stretching his arms up. "So, how many were they today?"

Ever since Alastor had appointed himself as a king between overlords, it was almost weekly recieve at least one attack from some naive soul who still thought they could just take the title out of their hands. Sometimes Alastor even left some survivors to go and tell the tale of what happened to those who tried, which naturally encouraged even more people to do the same. Those fights were not usually demanding, but Alastor came back rejuvinated anyway.

"They brought all their contract souls with them" Alastor lightly touched his lips with a napkin before speaking. He sneared slightly. "42 souls in total. A respectable number, but still pretty low for what they intended to do. I bet they thought they could overwhelm me if they all went at once" Alastor chuckled, flashing a toothy smile. "They clearly haven't done their research."

"Almost 50? And it took you…" Lucifer at his phone for the hour, "around 30 minutes? You took your time, babe."

"Guilty as charged" Alastor shrugged with a not at all guilty smile. "What can I say? I felt in need of a small entertainment."

"What demon was it?" Lucifer shook a finger to have an obscene pile of syrup on top of his own pancakes before eating anything.

Alastor saw them completely drenched, but save any comments for himself for the moment.

"I want to say… painting demon? His face was a moving canvas at least. His blood tasted somewhat to acrilic paint."

"Awww, what?" said Niffty, standing up on her chair as she devoured her own pancakes. "He was a bad guy that I wanted to add to my collection!"

"Would this work for you?" sighed Alastor, taking out a bloodied up tie full of paint platter to pass on to her with a tentacle across the table.

Niffty took it and sniffed the fabric close. Seemingly finding a good aroma, she relaxed.

"It smells to death" giggled happily. "Did you choke him on it?"

"Briefly, before he bleed out first" The eyes of Alastor twinkled at saying that, as if he had only done the choking part at all to tell her about it later.

Lucifer had no doubt that was the case. Niffty would be the target of such indulgency.

"Nice!" Niffty sniffed it again and laughed, putting it around her neck. "I am going to try it out later."

"Niftty, no" Husk grunted, rubbing his face.

"Niffty yes."

"I am cutting that shit if you do that."

Niffty pouted and stick out her tongue at her, declaring him no fun. Husk could not care less. Sir Pentious cleared his throat.

"Sir, Alasstor, sir?" asked, swallowing. Despite the months that have passed, he still struggled to make eye contact with him. "By any chance, did those no good doers left any of their weapons behind?"

"They didn't had time to use them and I didn't eat them, so they must be there still" Alastor was in such a good mood he didn't mind answering without any underlying threath or biting comment.

Pentious looked at Cherri, both of them nodding in agreement to go pick it up for scraps later.

"Oh, shit, no, I can't" Cherri sighed, finishing her own coffee quickly. "I had an early shift today. Come on, Angie."

"Nooo" whined Angel, resting his head on the table. Ever since his contract with Valentino was nullified, he had gotten a job attending tables at the same dinner where Cherri was at. It was a lot less stressful, that was for sure, but the payment was shit in comparison and nobody ever wanted to be on costumer service if they could help it. With all of that, he still wanted to have something to do than not to get his money. Not paying for rent didn't mean that everything else was suddenly free. "Can't I just say that is my birthday too? You can't make me work on my birthday. Charlie, you don't mind sharing, don't you?"

"Come on, don't be a baby" Husk laughed, patting his back. "Nothing like attending some tables to wake you up in the morning."

"I hate you" Angel sighed, before kissing his cheek and dragging his feet to follow Cherri. "I am too hot for this shit! I should have a strong older sugar daddy already to handle all my money for me!"

"See you at lunch!" responded Husk, recieving another groan in response down the hallway. He finished his toast and stand up, cleaning up his hand. "Happy birthday, kiddo" said to Charlie, giving her shoulder a squeeze as he passed by.

"Thank you, uncle" Charlie smiled, holding his paw a moment longer before he moved to start with his own job. She sighed. "Alright, since I have no choice, what did you had in mind, Emily?"

Emily coughed a little, in the middle of eating her blueberry pancakes, and only after drinking some juice to wash it all down she explained excitedly her plans. Lucifer heard up until going to the nail salon when he started zoning out, just happy to be there. When the girls finished eating breakfast, Niffty didn't waste any time picking up all the plates except Alastor's to start washing.

Lucifer sipped his tea slowly, munching ocassionally on cookies as he waited for his husband to finish.

Well, technically not husband yet. The ring on their fingers was very much still a engagement one. Between him getting back into his royal duties, much to Satan's dissapointment, and Alastor getting invested on his role as a King of Overlords, they didn't had a lot of time left to start seriously planning the wedding or talk about a date in which to have it. The farthest they had gone until now was deciding they didn't want to make a espectacle over it and it was probably going to be small, but nothing else. Lucifer didn't mind literally just signing their names on a paper to make it official and call it a day, but Alastor was adamant about repeating his words back to him about doing it "properly" this time. Besides, Charlie and Emily would like to he involved on the event as well, so at least they had to have a small party so they could get some part of the fun.

Lucifer still had to appreciate the irony of it all. Getting married without even knowing each other at all, just because of a moment of drunk weakness from his part, to only later developing any kind of feeling and much after deciding to make their own family, to finally end up on square one where most couples did, with yet to make it official in demon law that they were, in fact, married entirely by their own free will. But who was going to change decades of habit to start calling each other by any other title that wasn't the one they started on?

He commented that to Alastor once and he was relieved to hear that it was the same for him, no question about it. Alastor was part of the Morningstar family, the other father to both his daughters and his husband. Fiancee had a nice ring to it, but it just didn't had the same comfortable feeling on his mouth. No small part of it was too the fact that if Alastor wasn't still his legally recognized husband, it had been entirely out of circumstances outside of their control and to have as a result the absolute worst five months that he had spend on all his years of existence. All of that had happened some time ago and the memory still haunt him.

He was getting better at it, at least. Now he only wanted for Alastor to send a signal of life through his mic to the hotel's radio, instead of needing to tag along in animal form to make sure nobody was going to kill him up all of the sudden or do something else to take him away. If he didn't do it after half hour had passed, a little and quick portalling to his location to check on him was usually enough before he was back home like nothing happened. It was almost like how a functional adult should act about their partner having a life, so that was a big progress for him.

Alastor would not admit it either, but he know something similar had happened with him. Whereas before they could spend their own free time on their own, if they were inside the hotel, it was a lot more common than not that they were hanging out in the same space. Not necesarilly talking, but aware of each other and more relaxed as a result.

Whenever he had to get out in order to take care of royal business, in more than one ocassion Lucifer had noticed a trace of Alastor's shadows blending with his own or hiding inside his pocket. Alastor later asked him about his day as if he haven't been listening in the entire time and Lucifer would tell him, never bringing it up either. As if both of them didn't know how sensitive he was to his magic already.

Charlie, on the other hand, had been a lot better than both of them handling the return. The first few weeks she would take any chance she could to hug Alastor and made up more activities to drag Alastor into participating with. All of the stories the radio demon had in his arsenal were told and repeated for the same captivated audience multiple times. She still did did both those things, but now it felt more out of genuine spontaneus affection and want to have her father close than because of a lingering terror that she wouldn't be able to anytime soon. With the presence of Emily and her own grandma to call to if she never needed it, she had mostly come back to the normal rythm of her life before the extermination.

Lucifer couldn't be more relieved about it. The entirety of hell wasn't big enough to deal with all of their issues at once. Alastor could be a stalker all he wanted as long he kept quiet about his own slippings. It wasn't hurting anyone anyway, especially both knowing that the other could defend themselves well on their own. It was like picking a scab of a small wound. He knew they should probably leave it alone and work on that, but what difference did it make another scar to their collection?

Maybe someday they would be able to reach Charlie's mindspace, but that day was not today and proof of that was when Lucifer reheated his own tea while waiting for Alastor to finish the huge chunk of meat on his plate.

"The sins will arrive at 6" commented Lucifer casually. "Your mom said she was going to be here a little earlier. Stolas and his daughter should be around the same time."

"Why?" asked Alastor.

Lucifer shrugged.

"He was the only Goetia who remembered her birthday, it was the least I could do. Since we are not doing a big event and it's just us in the hotel, the rest didn't even bother. Besides, Charlie likes Via. Remember when they used to play together as kids? It was so cute" Lucifer sighed. Now Charlie was the owner of her own establishment and Via had officially entered on her own teenage angst phase, of which Lucifer was not envious at all. Where did all of that time went? "Which reminds me. Niffty, can you get some rats to serve fried?"

"Of course, pretty scary boy! You want them complete or I can chop them off?" asked Niffty, furiously brushing the sponge all over an already clean plate.

"Complete, please, they like it more like that. Thank you, sweetheart" commented, chuckling when he saw Alastor snearing. "You don't have to eat it yourself, you know."

"Why does it have to be fried? That is so disgusting. Raw rats are a perfectly acceptble snack already."

"Stolas and Via like it that way. It's a birthday, everyone should have something they like. You can ask Niffty for some raw ones if you want" As Alastor did just that, Lucifer reclined himself on his chair. "What cake are you bringing?"

"Doberge cake" answered Alastor, proud of his choice. "I will ask you to please don't feel too bad when she asks for seconds."

"Hah! We will see about that, babe" Lucifer smirked. "I will make for my baby girl a Smith Island Cake that I am sure won't have a single crumb left on the plate."

"If I don't remember badly, that is exactly what you said the last birthday and there were still very much leftovers the next day. Unlike my own tray that came out clean."

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, with a similar teasing smile on his own face.

"Last year was last year, babe. Tonight is going to be a different story."

"Can't wait to see you try" Alastor chuckled softly.

When he finished with his food, he barely lifted it off the table before Niffty made it dissapear off his hands. As they stand out, Lucifer rememmbered to unlock his tail from around his waist like he had it the entire time they were sat down. Alastor never seemed to mind, but it was somewhat embarassing when others remarked on that details. More so when most of the time Lucifer wasn't even aware of what his tail had done.

"So" started Lucifer, contemplating the emptied lobby where only some large tables were placed, waiting to be accomodated. "How are we doing this? You take north and I take south?"

"And leave you with my rockola? Over my dead body" Alastor huffed. "You take the north and I pick the south."

Lucifer rolled his eyes. They had already agreed that Alastor could put the music on anyway, so the rockola wasn't a huge loss for him anyway.

"Fine" Shrugged, turning to his side of the place. "Ready?" called, feeling at his back the presence of the shadows as they open up in the floor. All Alastor's minions already coming out with string lights and other party decorations.

"Ready as you are, my love."

Lucifer nodded and in a snap of fingers, they started working to decorate the place to their liking. Ever since the first birthday of Charlie, they realized that they had fundamentally too different visions of what a party for their daughter should look like. Their constant disagreement had all the servants of the palace running from a place to another trying to set up things according to conflicting orders.

By the time they elevated their voices, Charlie brust out crying from her play pen, the guests were about to arrive and the only thing they had to show for was a complete mess that made neither of them happy. They somehow survived the event, but it taught them quickly that if they wanted it to work in the future the best idea was to divide already what areas was the other allowed to intervene with. Whatever decision it was made, the other one couldn't change it and they would have to live with it. For Charlie, that meant having two different cakes to enjoy with her friends and family and two parties combined into one. For them, it meant keeping score of what section of the party Charlie gravitated towards to and therefore gain the right to be smug about it for as long they lived.

During Charlie's tenth birthday, Lucifer's cake of choice had barely been touched at all and he was still recovering from that humilliating defeat. Likewise, he was never going to let go of the time that nobody danced to the selection of music Alastor had prepared for her seventh one. It was a crueling battle that they would take with all the seriousness it deserved.

"Papa!" called Charlie.

"One second, duckling!" Lucifer finished hanging the star shapped lights from the chandelier on his side before descending back to the ground. "Oh, you are all ready to go?" asked, noticing that she, Emily and Vaggie were already on their casual clothing.

"Yes, we are probably eating outside too" commented Charlie going up to him and Lucifer immediately opened up his arms, receiving her hug. He squeezed her tight, because it was her birthday and also just because she was Charlie. Charlie rubbed his back a lot, giggling. When she let go, she hold his sleeve for a moment longer. "If anyone comes to register, do call me."

"We are not doing such thing" said Alastor, coming over. "Enjoy your day, little fawn. Any new soul that comes in, can help with the decorations if they want redemption." Charlie frowned at that, but calmed down a little when Alastor pet her head. "You earn yourself a moment to relax, dear. I don't want you seeing doing nothing else under this roof, understood?"

"As he said!" supported Lucifer. "Emily, you are in charge of keeping your sister distracted."

Emily squealed, like everytime she did when someone call them sisters.

"Right on!" She threw an arm around Charlie's shoulder, squeezing their cheeks together. "We are going to have the bestest fun! I am sure that any sinner that comes around will be treated nicely enough without us being here, right?"

"Sure" said Alastor with a slight shrug, earning a a pout from Lucifer.

"Don't pay him any mind, sweetie" insisted, practically dragging the three girls up to the door, opening up for them. "We still have a lot to work on and you don't want to spoil all the surprises right away, don't you? We will handle everything here so don't worry. Just go and get yourself the cutest everything you can find."

Charlie sighed, taking the hand of Vaggie with her. Emily was already on the way to the limo, chatting with the driver a little. On the small time that she had become a Morningstar, she had managed to win already the hearts of all the imps at their service. She remembered all of their names and the details of their lives, as she was used to do in Heaven when talking to all winners.

"Fine, fine" Charlie groaned, but took the hand of Vaggie on her and turned around to wave at Alastor. "Love you, guys! See you later!"

"Love you too, duckling!" Lucifer waved at them back until they were inside the vehicle. Once they were gone, he closed the entrance to the hotel and grinned in direction to his husband. "She liked my decorations more."

"I didn't hear a word about it" Alastor turned quickly on his heels. "Are you sure you didn't drink fifthy gallons of whiskey while I wasn't watching?"

"Denial is an ugly look on you, babe! It's okay to throw the towell now if you want."

"You wish, my love" Alastor flashed him a smile, elevating himself on the air with his tentacles to reach his own higher decorations. They were mostly dark blues and green, like the bayou on their room at night was echanted to look as, while Lucifer side was going more for an orange and yellow upbeat vibe. Lucifer still could not understand how his husband was so comfortable reaching those highs with his tentacles, but absolutely hated flying with his own or anyone's wings. "This doesn't end until the actual party, darling. Then we will see who had the better taste."

"You mean when everyone prefers my side" Lucifer pulled out his wings again as he laughed, reaching the furthest walls. Their voices carried out easily on the accoustic of the place. "Sorry that you are wasting your time so much, babe."

"You would think trying to add some class would be a waste of time."

"Did you say something? I can't hear you over the fun I am having here. The gloom of your side is drowning out your words, honey."

"It's okay, I am sure Charlie will hear them loud and clear anyway when she is dancing with her old man instead of the oldest one."

"Oh, ho ho, at least I know music from after the fucking 40s."

Husk rolled his eyes, begging to the Heaven that had no reason to listen to him for a little bit of patience as he had to listen to this nonsense. On such ocassions Alastor used to summon Husk to help at his side or entertain Charlie while they worked. In every single one, he had seen this same song and dance be repeated.

He had no idea if this was their version of flirting or they were really that petty, or maybe a combination of the two, but he was more than happy to just stay out of their business and keep at his bar to finish a crossword on today's newspaper. If things started to escalate, only then he would intervene, for Charlie's sake at least, but for now they could keep going with their bullshit matches.

--

Things did not escalate. The lobby was big enough that, besides shouting taunts to each other, the pair really didn't had any reason to pay attention to what the other was doing unless they wanted to. When it was all said and done, they both presented quite an impressive job that Charlie praised when coming back. There was no consensus as to which side she looked the most at before she had to change her clothing. Her nails done with a rainbow across her fingers and her hair just trimmed at the tips, she was absolutely radiant when it came to greeting the very first guest.

"Hello, hello, sweetie pie!" greeted Rosie, hugging her with one arm as she hold a wrapped box with the other. "Happy birthday, oh, darling!" She kissed her cheek, leaving a mark of her black lipstick before she looked around. It was her first time experience with a Morningstar party was like. "Oh, my, someone got really busy prettying up the place!"

After her, the Sins started arriving. Asmodeus came carrying his partner on his arm, cooeing about how much Charlie was growing. He had brought a present for Emily too so she wouldn't get jelous of all the attention Charlie was getting, and didn't want to hear a thing when Emily insisted that wasn't necessary, really.

Bee came flying through the door and flying took Charlie with her, hugging her in the air as she laughed. When she saw the two cakes waiting, she whistled that Charlie was so lucky. Most parties only had one!

The mirror pocket started shaking from Alastor's pocket and he gave it to Charlie so she could greet her grandma properly, showing her off how lovely the place turned out to be. Between Evelyn and Charlie, there was never a moment of silence between the two.

Next was a goat demon with eight eyes, the biggest ones looking perpetually about to fall asleep. Her big hooves almost dragged through the entrance.

"Auntie Bel!" greeted Charlie, coming to give her another hug. The demon smiled with her fangs out, patting her with one of her flappy arms that looked as if she was melting. "Glad that you could make it."

"Lucifer called so I came" explained the demon easily, patting her head, despite having to reach for it. After Lucifer, she was the smallest ruler of hell. "Is your party fun, sweetie? I brought some pills that can help you relax more if not. Birthdays can be so stressful. Just don't tell Bee about it or she will pestering me to get some too."

"Oh, that is nice" said Charlie, her smile stretching tense until her papa came to the rescue.

"Please, don't offer drugs to my baby on her birthday" begged Lucifer, bringing her along. "Bel, we talked about this."

"What?" Bel frowned, only for a brief second, before her face defaulted to her usual tired expression. "I thought she was older now? That is how adults have fun too, Luci."

"Still no" Lucifer chuckled. "You remember Al, don't you?"

"Who" Bel looked around before her two inferior eyes landed on the radio demon in front of her and only then the rest followed. She blinked slowly, each eyelid moving at a different pace. Her memory issues were even worse than Lucifer's, so Alastor was only mildly annoyed by it. It was already surprising enough she remembered that Charlie was in fact an adult she could offer drugs to. "Oh, right, yes, the red one. How are you, dear?"

She flashed another smile, offering one of her hands and Alastor gave his cane for her to shake. She didn't seemed to mind, or didn't noticed at all, as she nodded. After a while of still shaking the cane, she frowned again.

"Wait… weren't you dead before? Are you a ghost?" She tilted her head, as if inspecting if he was see through. "I swear I went to a funeral with your face on it."

Lucifer flinched slightly, turning his gaze to a side and clearing his throat.

"I was dead" said Alastor, not missing that. "And then I came back, you Majesty."

"You did?" The eyes of Bel blinked slowly again. "Oh, that is nice. Good for you." That is when Bel looked at the two sets of decorations and the two cakes. "Oh, you are still doing the thing? Don't you ever get tired of it, Luci?"

"Why would I? It's fun to have more options" Lucifer winked an eye to Alastor.

"It would be nice to be on the same page too instead of making two books, that is all" Bel looked over at the door and continue speaking on the same monotone voice. "Satan is here."

Lucifer turned around, waiting for when he heard the knocking and he laughed, patting the back of Bel.

"High as a kyte, but your senses are still sharp, aren't they?" commented, going to open up as Bel turned her head back to Alastor.

"Did being dead made you different?" asked, rolling her head to the other side. "You feel different than other sinners. Your aura is all, um… weird, dear. Calm but weird."

"Yes, it did in fact" Alastor knew that was a safe response to give to this particular sin and wasn't wrong when she just accepted it without further question, nodding her head.

"Death can be funny like that" said as it was a known fact. "At least you still glow around Luci. As long you don't miss that, it's fine. Luci wasn't glowing when last saw him. I tried to offer him something to forget, but he didn't take it."

Before Alastor come out with a retort, the sin of Sloth made her way to the table of snack as if she had already completely forgotten their conversation. Alastor shook his head and went to join Rosie, talking to Bee about her new supply of eel demon meat.

"It's a little bit more chewey that expected, but a little bit the struggle can make a meal taste all the better, don't you think, your Majesty?"

"Oh, so you are like for real eating each other now? That is so metal, girl. Respect" laughed Bee, smiling when seeing him close. "Al, how are you? Sorry I didn't greet you before, honey pie. Everything good?"

"Can't complaint. But if anything I should be asking that, your Majesty" said Alastor, falling into his host role. "Can I bring you anything?"

"Not at all, Alastor" said Rosie, lifting a half full glass that he was sure didn't not come from the hotel. The dark wine swinged from side to side with the movement. "Bee here has been a sweetheart and provided for a lady in need. As expected of a fair and wise ruler."

"Yeah, bitch!I know a whine girly when I see her" Bee made another cup appear, this one more full, offering it to him. "Have a sip too, man, it's okay!"

Alastor reasoned that it would be more rude to deny the Queen of Gluttony than not, so he took the glass cup and clinked it with Rosie as Bee looked around, praising how stinking cute both sizes were this year. At some point Charlie left the mirror with Evelyn on the same table as Rosie and both women started talking, delighted to exchange the gossip with each other as Evelyn drank whine too on her side.

It wasn't a big gathering, but the conversation was vivid. When the swing music started playing, Asmodeus let out the biggest laugh and said he totally remembered that. He converted to a smaller size to dance with Bee as Alastor beemed at Lucifer when others, including Charlie bringing Vaggie over, joined in. The king rolled his eyes as a response.

By the time it came to blowing the candles on top of the two cakes, Lucifer had taken enough pictures of the party to fill an entire album.

"Wait, wait" said Lucifer, putting his phone on Satan's hand. "Take one of us now! To the count of three! Emily, come here!" called, positioning himself at one side of Charlie as Alastor stood in the other, on arm on the shoulder of Emily and another on Charlie's. Charlie likewise called Vaggie over, so Lucifer could wrap with his arm on his side. "Evelyn, want to join in?" asked to the image of the woman in the mirror.

"If you will have me!" She let out a little squeal when one of Alastor's tentacles brought her over. He hold it firmly with that tentacle just besides Emily, the mirror expanding to show more of her figure until she did looked as if standing right there with them.

The other guests started counting until Satan presssed the screen and Charlie blowed the fire out of both cakes, surrounded by their appluse. As he picked up his phone again to see the result, Lucifer turned around and kissed Alastor's cheek.

"Aww, you didn't glitched out!" laughed, showing the picture to Alastor, his own image perfectly clear. "I am totally framing this one. The first party with all of us together!"

Alastor smiled, ruffling his hair as he conjured up a big knife to put on Charlie's hand.

"Cake, cake, cake!" started chanting Bee. "Which one are you going first with, cheesecake?"

"Uh…" Charlie looked suddenly stunted, her eyes moving from one to another. She knew very well the weight this choice implied. "I… I think this one?" said, pointing to the one covered in white frosting as Lucifer made a dramatic gesture of holding his chest, as if mortally wounded. "Or this other one?" Now Alastor made a gesture of turning his gaze away, like hiding his tears from view while making a gesture that it was okay, she could continue to kill him inside anyway. Charlie huffed. "Okay, no, you both turn around and wait your slices then!"

When everyone got served on their respective plates, Lucifer saw with satisfaction that his cake was the most diminished from the bunch and ate every bite without losing his smile as Alastor made a valiant effort for ignore it completely. As the moment of the presents came in, they moved to the larger couch for Charlie to open up her presents. She thanked all of them, even the box full of pills that Bel gave her a thumb up for. Only by the end looking up with the most hope up as Vaggie approached with her hand on her back.

"It took a little bit of digging and some negotiating but… here" prefaced giving her a small box, tied up with a nice red bow. "Happy birthday, honey."

"Oooh!" said Charlie, as if she was already impressed. When she opened it up, she smiled big, pulling up a necklace with a black stone hanging from the center. "Aww, honey, thank you, I love it!"

"It's not just an accesory" explained Vaggie, opening up the clasp to put around her neck. "It's supposed to grant one wish. Anything you want will come true for you if you hold it between your hands."

"Oh, a original damned stone!" said suddenly Stolas from the group watching. When the eyes suddenly turned to him, he blushed with a weak laugh. "Sorry, dear, you were talking."

"Thank you, sir" Vaggie turned to Charlie, holding her hands. "But yes, what he said. These are supposed to give whoever ask for it any desire. They are very rare so it was hard to find. If anyone deserves to have that in all of hell, I know that is you, hon. It only works once so you really have to think it well."

Charlie squealed even louder than before and squeezed her tight. She looked around the room and smiled at Alastor, as Lucifer was taking even more pictures and Emily was smiling at her from the armsrest where she was sitting. What else could she ever want?

--

When they finally returned to their room, Lucifer chuckled as Alastor let himself fall to their bed.

"Not a word" groaned the radio demon, snapping his fingers to change to his pajamas and get into bed, stubborngly giving him his back.

"Aww, what is wrong, baby? Feeling sour because not even Bee wanted second of your own cake and mine was finished to the last piece? There is no shame in losing to the best, Al" reminded him, changing to his sleepwear too.

Alastor grunted.

"Your cake was too filling. There was hardly any space for air after they were done with it."

"Cake is supposed to be filling" Lucifer laughed, slipping under the covers and behind his back. He hugged the deer by the waist and kissed his shoulder. Alastor deflated at his contact and even though he couldn't see it, Lucifer knew he was pouting against the pillow. "Loser."

"Shut up."

Lucifer kissed his neck, nibbling softly the skin there until he heard a soft exhale. He hummed comfortably as he came closer until his chest was brushing against Alastor's back, entangling his legs with the larger ones. He could feel the breathing of his husband, the soft expansion of his ribs expanding relaxed and then falling down. The fluffy ears twitched on top. Lucifer bite his lip and whispered one word:

"Loser."

Lucifer was still smilling when one of the tentacles smacked a pillow against his head.

"Go to sleep, you idiot" Alastor snarled.

Lucifer chuckled softly and nuzzled between his shoulder blades. Eventually Alastor relaxed again, letting him have this for now.

[campbyler]

hi everyone! the response to ch4 has already been staggering and we are very much enjoying watching your asks and comments roll in 😗🤸just a reminder for anyone who didn’t know — we tag all spoilers (or anything that could potentially be a spoiler) with #acswy spoilers so if you care about that sort of thing or can’t keep up with updates as they come out then i would definitely recommend filtering this tag now! and as always, happy reading :^)

[degreesofkei]

school play rewired my brain (2)

[mishapen-dear]

Cant sleep so im thinking about ayhalo

I think its like. one sided. qaypierre WOULD smooch that demon and take him on dates. qbad would not recognize anything as a romantic gesture. aypierre could throw a bouquet of chocolate roses at him and bad would just be like ! thank you :}

like they love each other, absolutely. they TRUST each other, to the point where i’d even say it gets in the way of bad seeing aypierre as anything more than a good friend. that’s his guy. The dude always in his corner. Friend resource label: team mate (coparent) (down to help kidnap people). bad doesnt do classic romantic relationships- all of his relationships are INCREDIBLY queer, but the closest he usually gets to what others read as romance is a classic chewtoy4chewtoy dynamic. He LOVES to fuck with people and he loves to get fucked with and if there’s a nice jawline or pretty muscles included?? huge bonus !!

he’s got something- not kinder, with aypierre? not calmer, either, but stable, maybe. pierre has proven, over and over again, that he’s on bad’s side. Spying on tubbo, encouraging bad’s pranks, the kidnapping- i can’t call it a reliable dynamic, not with how paranoid bad is, even when he trusts, but there is still a feeling of understanding that, wherever pierre’s limits are for when he cant support bad (or genuinely turn against him), it hasnt been reached yet

aypierre, on the other hand, i dont know enough about to be absolutely sure but there are some Vibes. ironically, i think hes feeling like his relationships are unreliable. max was going to have their baby, and then he wasnt, and then he left him, then max fucking died. plus whatever is happening with him and ayrobot, which probably leaves him feeling like he cant rely on Himself. like he had, if not a little crush on bad, at least some Interest in him, before. as well as several islanders. i remember the days of the Bed Threat.

but thats part of it, too? because those flings didnt have that emotional connection, and i always got the sense that he started looking for that with maximus, to Love and Be Loved rather than pure lust. To care about someone, genuinely, and be cared about in return. but he didnt get that with the flings, and We know that max was using him, but i dont know if he did, but maybe he had a feeling about it and maybe he also had a feelinf about maximus’ feelings towards bad and maybe- there’s something about that? A little push of not-spite-not-projection onto bad.

because bad IS that reliability, right now. he’s a fucking gremlin. a bastard. a prankster silly guy. he trusts aypierre and aypierre trusts him and they dont share everything but so often, when it comes down to it, it is them against the world. them in the corner, caught, aypierre shouting about kissing as a cover for their crimes while bad runs giggling away from him.

[yellowjackets-1996]

(do you love me like that?) you're a reckless driver (I'm a reckless driver) and one day it will kill us if I —

[isabellehemlock]

Tips and Resources for curating your fandom experience across platforms

Hi loves,

I wanted to write up a curating resource post for fandom spaces, so here are some things I’ve learned along the way, and though only you can decide what your digital boundaries look like, I do hope that for anyone looking for them, this list might find its way to you.

For tumblr

How to make your DM’s only open to people you follow

How to make it so only people you follow, or people who follow you for a week can reply

How to have your ask box open, but closed to anon’s - no longer needed, there's a simple toggle button near the ask settings for whether to allow anons or not :)

Use the filtering function for your dash (this is also an option for a blocked user - who you might still see if a mutual reblogs them.  You can add their name to your filtered list, and then their post will be hidden on your dash).  This tip brought to you by @quiquimora tumblr resource post (great post if you’re new to tumblr)

For AO3

How to filter out keywords that might appear in summary or author notes, but not in tags (handy for when an author is trying to understandably avoid spoilers in the tags)

A script option for filtering (especially nice if there are certain tags you'll always avoid across fandoms).

Muting authors (a nice option if you don’t necessarily mind engaging with authors in comments, etc, but don’t want to see their content) - this secondary link includes a how to video you can now use the muting feature on AO3, no scripts needed :)

You can block authors now on AO3 as well, and here’s a tweet thread that shows you how, but also what it does, and doesn’t do

If you’d like to avoid certain ship pairings

How to use a few extra search symbols to filter out certain content

Quick tip: don't forget to save your curated search results in either a bookmark, or as a link on your mobile home screen - that way you can just do all the filtering once, vs typing it all over again every time you're loading up AO3

For twitter

Muting words/content

How to set up various privacy settings

For discord

Privacy & Server settings master list

Accessibility settings

Please feel free to reblog with your own tips!

Under the cut, a few extra tips for dipping into new fandom spaces:

Interact with reblogs and hashtags (this isn’t the end all to be all, but one way to showcase your sense of humor with commentary, or digitally applaud a content creator). People can get to know you a bit ;)

If you enjoy content creating, sign up for fandom events: big bangs, reverse big bangs, zines - a fantastic way to connect with several people at once sharing the same hyperfixation as you <3

Look up certain hashtags in someone’s blogs - not in the sense of digging up ten years of posts, but a quick search if you have squicks and triggers that someone might blog about a lot.  It’s not a judgment on them, for many might not follow you for the things you post about either.  It’s just self care to be aware of things you do not want to see on your dash and keep your following list to things that bring you joy - nothing says you can’t do the occasional reblog, or even connect with them on other platforms!

On the flipside - block liberally.  If you look up their blog and you both are on opposite ends of a spectrum on a topic?  Want to ensure they can never say such things to you in DM’s, etc?  Block.

And guess what?  People have the right to do the same to you.  Do not under any circumstances block evade.  This includes going to other platforms to engage with them if you know you’ve been blocked.  Just.don’t.do.it.please.

And if you've made it to the end, you get a digital cookie or hug of your choice 🍪🫂

[terrorbirb]

The hr guy is printing covid denial stuff on the printer and it's annoying if only because all of the rest of the office are engineers who I actually know, due to discussions, are very on board with covid is real and we should get vaccinated.

[twiyke]

technoblade was an incredible creator, entertainer, and above all else, person. a lot of his content got me, and many others, through really tough periods of life. and I will miss his astounding ability to make us laugh.

it's okay if you need to take a break. i might need one myself. it's also okay if you feel the need to continue and create, in his honour, and for yourself. it's okay to be grieving and ill and sick and crying, and it's okay if you don't feel as phased by the news, or aren't reacting as strongly as other people. Your feelings are valid. Your experiences of grief are valid. there's no right or wrong reaction to something as complicated as this.

just make sure you take care of yourself. and be kind, let's not turn on each other right now. spread positivity where you can.

I wish all the best to Techno's family, and I sincerely hope people respect their right to privacy. Here's a link to the Sarcoma Foundation of America, if you wish to donate, and here's a link to Techno's merch store (where i believe proceeds will now go towards the charity).

o7 Technoblade. ♥

[gay-yosuke]

started pq today :3