#i have to draw something heartfelt once in a while..... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

koolades-world · 7 months

Note

Hello, I'm looking for some angst.

I would like to order an extra harsh reality of

"The brothers will pick their sister over Mc if given a chance"

And some side dish of "The undertables having to fight for Mc"

Thanksiiee!!

hi!! Sorry I took so long to get to this but I was so looking forward to writing this when I got it! slight mentions at nsfw but nothing is described or really directly talked about. also spoilers for lesson 16 and also also long!! much longer than I anticipated

everything I write turns into Satan pieces somehow lol

Took inspo from Harry Potter, specifically Tom Riddle’s diary in the Chamber of Secrets (don't @ me used to be a huge hp fan)

update: part two is out and can be found here :)

the dance of the haunted (part one)

It all started with a simple trip to the second hand bookstore. Satan always invited Mc, so they were together. He needed a hand carrying back his purchases sometimes and they always went someone to eat afterwards, Satan’s treat as he could never imagine asking Mc to pay.

They bookstore they visited today was a usual for them. It was close enough to walk, but far enough to avoid running into his brothers. Satan knew Mc really enjoyed old cookbooks and worn fantasy books. They also often searched for children’s books to read to local demon children as part of a school club. While he was initially concerned with them coming into contact with a cursed book, he grew more comfortable after seeing their magical ability and that they always carried an enchanted talisman that Solomon gifted them for that purpose.

Mc was over in the nature section, flipping through a book about creatures in the 3rd ring of hell. Satan found himself in the tomes section again. He, as usual, found himself rooting through the very back trying to uncover hidden gems. He was about to pick up a book he thought Mc might like to flip through it, when he froze. Just a sliver of this book was in his vision, but he already felt the magic oozing from it. It's a wonder he didn't sense it sooner. He put the other book in a hurry and pulled out the book from the back.

It was unlabeled, with a faded green cover and a golden ribbon attached to the spine. It marked a page close to the beginning. The magic radiating from it didn't seem bad in any way. It actually seemed quite positive. He was able to place it quickly after he felt the ribbon sticking out the bottom of the book.

This was most certainly a book infused with an angelic blessing at the very least, but how in the world had this ended up in a second hand book store in the Devildom, of all places. He flipped it over, looking for anything to go off of, but found nothing but a cursive golden letter L etched on the bottom right corner. He was a little afraid to open it, giving that it was in the hands of an angel at some point. After thinking it over, if anything happened to him, Mc would help him as soon as they noticed something amiss. Thanks to the pact, it would be almost instantly.

With the thought of Mc, he slowly opened the book. On the first page and on the inside of the front cover was handwriting that seemed oddly familiar. He struggled to read the words on the page at first due to the sense of familiarity. He suddenly got deja vu, as if he had held this book before. He closed his eyes for a moment to stop the world from spinning. When he reopened them, he felt like crying, and yet, he still wasn't sure why. Once he finally read what was written, he understood why.

On the inside cover, it read "Property of Lilith Morningstar" and near the bottom in large writing was a messy scrawl he recognized as Mammon's handwriting. It said "mammon waz here" with a little drawing of himself sticking his tongue out. A heart in a different color of ink enclosed the message and drawing. On the first page was a note seemingly from Lucifer. Satan would recognize his handwriting anywhere. It was a heartfelt message from Lucifer to Lilith, saying that he hoped the gift reached her well, and that he missed and loved her.

He closed the book for a second and suddenly felt faint. He sat on the floor, holding his head in his hands. He thought about what he had just read for a moment. The book that he had somehow found, maybe by chance or fate, belonged to his brother's late sister. It was a gift from Lucifer to Lilith while he was away. He realized that's probably why he felt his emotions raging. The Lucifer in him recognized the book, since he had seemingly picked it out himself to give to his sister. How had this ended up in a second hand bookstore? He theorized maybe it had been made in the Devildom and Lucifer had purchased it during one of his trips. But, angel Lucifer would have never done that. He was disgusted by the mere thought of even having to go down at the time, so the thought of him browsing shops was out of the question. Deciding to come back to that thought later, he decided to quickly flip through it, just to see what it was.

As he reopened the book, new waves of magic hit him. He didn't recognize them, but they felt as familiar as his brothers. He guessed their magic was also somehow within this book. But since it was all angelic magic, everything having to do with this book happened before the fall, before he even existed. Much to his dismay, everything beyond the first page was blank. He closed and opened it a few times, but nothing happened. He guessed it might be locked by magic in some way. The thought of trying to magically pry it open scared him again. He was a demon through and through, and since this was blessed by angels, he had no clue what might happen to him if he tried. He was certain whoever blessed this book did not accommodate for whatever he was, but he thought it to be unwise to test the limits.

"Satan. What are you doing on the floor?" Mc walked up to him, holding a few books in their arms.

"Oh, just looking at book on the bottom shelf. I got tired of crouching." He quickly placed the green book down on top of a stack of his other books.

"I get that. Just wanted to let you know I'm ready to be done when you are. Don't rush for me." They turned to walk away, but Satan stopped them.

"I'm done too. I was finishing up." He moved to get up. Mc turned back around to look at him.

"I made great timing then! Here, I'll carry some of these for you." They grabbed the first few books off his stack. He felt his stomach lurch when they touched the green book. He couldn't help but feel nervous with them handling the book, although he wasn't sure why. He didn't want to say anything about it to them, and again, he didn't know why. For now, maybe it was best he kept this to himself anyways. Mc’s expression didn't change and they continued to pile on the books until the green one was in the middle. There was nothing special about that book to them.

"Thank you." Satan made himself say. He picked up the remaining books and they proceeded to the check out together. Today, an older demon worked the register. She was familiar with the pair and had a soft spot for Mc.

"Is that everything for today?" She asked them as she counted the books. Between the two of them, they had thirteen books. Satan handed the demon the needed amount of grim, and waved them on their way. Satan insisted on carrying the bag of books home, since this time there wasn’t too many.

"Let's stop at a café on our way home. I'm dying for something warm to drink right now." Mc grabbed Satan's hand and pulled him in the direction they wanted to go in. He smiled and allowed himself to be dragged off. While they were enjoying coffee together, he was able to temporally forget about the book he had discovered. All of his thoughts were about Mc for the time being.

When they arrived home together, Mc loudly announced that they were there. Mammon came running to greet them. "Mc! I got somethin' for ya! Ya gotta come with me right now!" He grabbed both of the hands and began to pull them away.

"Thank you for the coffee and books, Satan. Tell me about what you bought at dinner tonight." They looked back at him before looking at Mammon again.

"I will. I'll drop off your books in your room. I had a great time." He lifted a hand at them, as a goodbye.

"Mc!" Mammon began to whine.

"Yes, yes. Let's go now." Mammon took off with Mc in tow, leaving Satan stewing in his thoughts again. He went back to his room with all of the books. The other books he had picked out were no longer interesting compared to the Lilith book. However, he didn't want to mess with it while his brothers were awake. The last thing he wanted was them finding out. While he felt bad keeping it from them, something in him was telling him not to show it to them yet. He had promised Mc he would tell them about the books he picked out. The only one he wanted to read was the one about cats. He could easily talk about it to Mc anyways, without having to worry about the Lilith book crossing his mind.

He read until it was time for dinner. Today, it was Asmo’s turn to cook. He was actually a pretty good cook, probably the best in the house. It always turned out well and was plated gorgeous on top of that. He came to the dinner table with the book he hand been reading, still reading. He took his seat across from Mc, not looking up just yet.

“Hey, is that one of the new books?” Satan looked over his book and saw Mc peering at him.

“Yes, actually. It’s a cat book! Cats are the best.” He happily pointed to the picture of a cat on the front. As they ate, the conversation began to drift away from books, and onto something that Satan thought was irrelevant. He tried to go back to reading, but found himself reading the same lines over and over again. His thoughts had reverted to the little green book sitting in a pile of books on his bed. He has buried it, just in case someone happened to walk in.

As Mc mediated yet another argument between Levi and Mammon, he couldn’t find it in himself to silently seethe and glare at his brothers as he usually did. He blankly stared at his book, picking at his food. He was stuck wondering why the book didn’t say anything. He planned what he would do once he got back to his room. He knew he had a book of protective spells somewhere in the house that he might use to protect himself before attempting to interact with the book more.

“Satan. Is everything alright?” Lucifer placed a hand on his shoulder, catching him off guard. The table was basically empty now, much to his surprise. It was only Beel, Belphie and himself still seated. Beel was still eating and Belphie was passed out next to him.

“Nothing is wrong.” Satan snapped back after a moment.

“Alright. Please don’t forget do the dishes.” Lucifer retraced his hand, and with one final, unreadable look at Satan, left the room. He was unsure about how to feel about Lucifer noticing something was amiss. He snapped his book shut. He wasn’t really reading it in the first place. He put the book down on the kitchen counter and began absentmindedly doing the dishes. He was lost in though about the book currently buried underneath about twenty other books on his bed.

He finished in record time. He grabbed his cat book, figuring Beel could wash his own dish once he was done. He retreated to his room. He was released to find everything just as he left it. He dug up the green book from his pile, placing all the other books on the floor for the time being. He sat at his desk, running his hands over the cover. Under his little desk lamp, it seemed to sparkle in a way that he hasn’t previously noticed. Once he opened it, he was greeted with what he has seen earlier that day. But, to his surprise, there was more beyond that.

Most of the pages in the front of the book curled from usage. At the top of each page, was a note of the date. Below this, was a diary entry of sorts. Sometimes, it was just a to-do list, or a recipe. Others, he found Lilith’s accounts of her day to day life. He decided to start at the beginning, reading the first ever entry. He hoped to gain a little context of what exactly this journal was and how it worked.

Lilith had written on the first page after the note from Lucifer about how he has sent her this journal while on a trip to the Devildom, stating it was made by a human according to the tag on the outside of the journal. He enchanted it himself to only allow her to see the contents of this journal.

Satan paused his reading for a moment. If it has been enchanted to only allow Lilith to read the journal, how was he able to read it just now? He wasn’t close to her. They never knew each other. As he flipped to the next page to hopefully skim it for context of any kind, the words in front of him began to fade. The ink retracted into the page, from the last letter she had written, to the first. He wasn’t sure what he could do to prevent this, so he just quickly read what he could. The next page was something about how Belphie had wanted to take a look at it and something about Beel. Once he got there, the words has begun to erase themselves. He watched helplessly as everything disappeared. Soon, he was just stuck with the plain book he had discovered that afternoon, and the cover no longer shimmered.

He sighed, flipping through it again. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He was about to check out the back cover again when he heard his door being pushed open.

“Satan! Thought I would find you here.” Mc greeted him.

“It’s my room. What did you expect?” He shut the book in a hurry.

“Well, I can just as often find you in the library.” They approached him, touching his face. They outlined his jaw and smoothed his cheeks with their thumbs. He reached for their wrists, touching them with an imploring look.

“What’s the matter?” He petted their hair. They sat down in his lap and placed their head on his shoulder. He couldn’t help but worry that the journal was right in their view now, but he hugged them close nonetheless.

“I just feel lonely.” They sighed and buried their face in his neck.

“Really? After all that time you spent with Mammon?” He laughed a little at their predicament.

“Don’t laugh! It’s not the same as when I’m with you.” They pouted and puffed their cheeks out. He chuckled a little more at the cute face they made at him.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop. What can I do for you, my beloved?” He could get lost in their eyes.

“Give me affection! Just kisses will do.” They pointed to their forehead. Satan smiled at them, amused.

“As you wish.” He began to pepper their face in kisses. As Mc grew more needy, the more he satisfied them. One thing led to another, as they ended up in Satan’s bed. They stayed together for the rest of the night, the journal long forgotten.

Early the next morning, after their night of passion, Satan awoke abruptly. He looked around. He was in his own room, but his clothes were scattered around the room. A shirt was hanging by a thread off a tall pile of books. Mc was asleep next to him, their arms wrapped around him. His lamp light was still on. He reached over as far as he could to reach the off switch. Before he could hit it, he saw the journal. He glanced back at Mc. He didn’t want to wake them, but he felt the urge to open it. He reached out to touch it, and as soon as he did, he noticed it began to shimmer like it had before. He was amazed. He quickly flipped as best as he could to a random page with one hand. He could see lots of writing. He shut it again, taking his hands off of it. It remained shimmery.

He decided not to flip through it now, since he wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind to at the moment. Instead, he noted the time; 4:03 am. Once he woke up, he would check it again to get a rough idea of how long it would stay open for since earlier, he wasn’t sure how long it had been open for. He finally shut the lamp off and let the book flutter closed. He took his mind off the book, and laid back down. He tucked an arm around Mc as best he could without waking them, and drifted back to sleep.

He awoke for the second time that day. Everything was essentially the same as it was earlier except for the time and the noise outside his door. Mc was still asleep next to him, griping him tightly. It was 8:24 am now, and he could hear Lucifer pacing around past his door in the hall. He didn't make any noise. The last thing he wanted was to see his ugly mug first thing in the morning. Because of this, he decided not to leave him room just yet, but he also didn't want to open the journal either. He would, however, check if it was still "open" or readable. He flickered on his little desk lamp again, and was greeted with the shimmery cover. He didn't want to touch it, because he was almost certain he was able to set it off that morning. Once he was able to think clearer, he would revisit that.

Instead, he grabbed the first book he could get his hands on and began to read. He wasn't sure how long he was there, just reading, but eventually he felt Mc begin to stir. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” Satan greeted the bleary eyed person snuggled into his side.

“Good morning love. How long was I asleep?” They yawned, making no move to sit up. Neither of them were dressed at the moment anyways.

“A decent amount. Longer than I did anyways.” He shrugged, placing the book facedown on his desk, over the journal.

“Thanks for not waking me. You wouldn’t guess how many times Mammon or Asmo have woken me up way too early. Granted, it’s usually on accident. Asmo with his skincare and Mammon with… I don’t actually know.” Mc rolled on to their side to look at Satan better, throwing one of their arms over his torso. He felt himself growing shy under their sleepy gaze. He knew he wasn't the only one graced with that privilege, but the way they looked at him made him feel so special. He would give them every star in the sky if they asked.

“That makes me all the more grateful that they don’t dare enter my room. Makes it quite the sanctuary, don’t you think?” Satan chuckled.

“Mmm, yes.” They yawned again.

“What do you want to eat for breakfast, sweetheart? Or is it too soon to think about that?” He asked.

“Give me a few more minutes and then I’ll find an answer for you.” Mc closed their eyes again, potentially going back to sleep. He used that time to reflect. His thoughts grew a little grim as he let them wander. That journal kept finding it's way into his mind. How had he been able to find that? What were the chances of that happening? Maybe it would have made a little more sense if one of his brothers had found the book instead, since part of them seemed to linger between the lines. He was a different story, though. The magic within must had been much more powerful than he anticipated.

Even as he turned his head to the side to look at the book again, he saw the pages glimmer in the light that didn't exist. Something seemed... wrong. He hadn't noticed it before, maybe due to the excitement of simply finding it. The circumstances of which he found it in too was bizarre. As a powerful demon, he should have noticed the angelic energy as soon as he entered the book store. He dwelled on this idea. Perhaps last night's activities had had an affect on it. He coughed a little, covering up his embarrassment from the invisible audience. As he thought more, it really made no sense that he just happened to find it. Had it been planted there for him specifically, or was it the journal itself? Just what did this book know? He did consider himself exceptional, but not nearly as much as his brothers. Their story was far more interesting than his own. He was just the consequence of their actions. Whatever the case with this book, he felt the urge to get to the bottom of it, despite the creeping dread in his gut.

He spent the next few days of his reading time picking though every page of the journal. He was able to learn so much about his brothers' days in the Celestial Realm, far more than they had ever bothered to tell him. Perhaps they thought speaking about it might bother him. Whatever the case, he found it strange to refer to them as angels. Lilith wrote lots about the twins and Asmo. She wrote less about the older brothers but it was clear they were just as important to her. He had know Asmo was the Jewel of the Heavens, but the way Lilith described him made him sound like the most amazing thing the world had ever seen. The more and more he read, the more he saw the similarities between himself and her. He too considered Asmo a trusted confidant, and a close friend of his. He too found himself sneaking off with Belphie for mischievous reasons, or spending time with Beel for his quiet, comforting presence. He began to realize how difficult losing her might have been for them. In the past, he knew it was a sore subject, especially among the youngest, but now he could really feel their pain as Lilith wrote about their daily misadventures. What they missed. Would they exchange him for her if given the chance? He shook this thought off, not liking the implications it might have.

Her innocence was painted clearly for him on each page, yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He checked the book again and again for traces of demonic magic but found nothing. The strangest part was that he couldn't even find his own. There was traces of various angels, most of which he didn't recognize, likely from the far gone past. The journal continued to puzzle him.

As time passed, the entries grew more and more chaotic. From her new lover, to the growing tensions between Lucifer and their father. They grew shorter and less carefree. Even her handwriting differed. She seemed to understand the gravity of what she had done. He knew this is when the Celestial War was about to begin. Her last entry was about her lover, again about how enchanting she found them, and how one day she hoped to spend the rest of her life with him, no matter what. He paused for a moment, realizing this entry was written likely days, or even hours before he was born. After that entry, the pages were blank. There were some pages with stray pen marks, but that's all he was able to uncover. He knew the ending to this story. The silence told it all. He sat for a while, reflecting again about everything he had seen. As he was thinking, words began to appear on the page in front of him, in the same handwriting and ink color as he had seen in the entire journal. It was Lilith's. Satan paused. He could tell the journal held magical properties, but this was not something he expected to happen.

"Hello? Anyone there?" The words appeared suddenly. He continued staring at the page until more words appeared. "You can say something you know. Ink will do." Satan began to look around for a writing utensil at these words. Once he found one, he began to pen a response.

"Hello. Are you Lilith?" He wrote down underneath the previous words. He got his own response quickly.

"Yes, I am! How'd you know that?" Satan paused again, about to write more, but was cut off as Lilith began to write more. "Haha! Just kidding. This is my journal. My name is in it. It would be weird if this wasn't me. Who are you, by the way? I don't think I've ever had a visitor." Right away, Satan thought Lilith reminded him of Asmo. He was probably like this when he was an angel.

He stopped before bringing his pen down to the page again. He was unsure on how to introduce himself. During his visit to the past, he went by Sully, which was the stupidest name in his opinion. But, he also didn't want to lie to her. Would it be wrong to tell her his story, and what happened after the war? "My name is Satan. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too! That's a pretty cool name. Interesting for sure." She wrote.

"I don't want to scare you away, but I want to make this clear as to not deceive you." He wanted to tell her the truth. He felt like she deserved to know. After all, he had always felt like she was supposed to be in his place. She even wrote in green.

"Oh, tell away then. I'm all ears. I won't judge, unless you're about to confess some sort of sin to me!" She wrote, most likely jokingly. That made him a little nervous at first, but he continued with the original plan anyways. Maybe this was his way of healing, somehow. He felt better after getting everything out. He told her almost everything. He omitted the part where Belphie murdered Mc. He didn't want to be the one to tell her, anyways. It felt wrong to tell her that her death had driven him to such an extreme. She stayed mostly silent, chiming in with a few questions and stray blots of ink on the pages near his writing, as if she was resting her pen on the page.

"I hope that wasn't too much to take in at once. Much has happened." Satan was still a nervous. He really hoped she wouldn't hate him. He was just the messenger. After all, without her, he wouldn't even exist.

"I won't lie, it was overwhelming at first. But, I'm happy to hear my brothers are doing well without me. It's comforting to know that they have you and Mc now." Lilith drew a little heart next to her message.

"Glad to hear. Sorry to leave so abruptly, but I agreed to meet Mc for an outing shortly, so I will see myself out." He wasn't lying. He had agreed to meet Mc, but it wasn't for another two hour.

"Alright. Have fun! Talk to you later." With that, everything she had said sunk into the page and left no trace behind.

"Goodbye." His words also disappeared. Just like that, their entire conversation was gone. He shut the book. He was glad she didn't object. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to leave early. He felt a little bad leaving her to stew in the information dump, if she actually existed beyond the book being open. Everything about the book confused him. Looking back at it, maybe he made a rash decision. Maybe he shouldn't have info dumped to her like that.

He decided to forget that for now to enjoy his time with Mc. They had an event to attend, and he had to get ready anyways. Later that night, he came back to the journal in order to study it. He opted not to talk to Lilith just yet. The sick feeling in his stomach had returned. Something was wrong with this journal, very wrong. It made no sense, even after chatting to her. She seemed sweet enough, but that wasn't enough to dispel that gross, nauseating feeling. He just couldn't place his finger on what. He felt as if he was losing his mind checking over and over again, for something, anything. But, he found absolutely nothing.

Eventually he got to the point where he was determining if he should burn it or not. He regretted even talking to her in the first place. He wasn't sure why, but he grew uneasy even having Mc in the same house as the journal. Somehow, it felt as if he was talking to someone else, as in not the Lilith who made the original entries. He placed the journal back on his desk, underneath his latest book finds, leaving to find Mc. He eventually found them by the door, putting their shoes on.

"Hey Satan. Good to see you!" They looked up at him.

"Hi, Mc. Where are you going?" He was relieved they were leaving the house.

"Purgatory Hall. I was invited over to play some games. Sol's idea." They began searching for their jacket. Satan noticed it hidden behind Lucifer's big overcoat. He grabbed it, and helped them put it on, thinking hard. "Aww thank you. You didn't have to do that." They beamed at him.

"I wanted to, it's no trouble." He paused for a moment, then continued. "Hey, do you think it's possible that I could come with you. I don't even have to play these games if that's an issue, I just want to be with you." He would feel even better if he was able to be with them, and get away from that journal for a while.

"Oh, of course! I'm sure they would love to have you. Besides, I've basically always got one of you brothers attached to me, they might find it weird if I showed up without one." Mc laughed. "I thought you were planning to read tonight, since I've been taking up almost all of your nights for the past week. Did something happen?" They seemed concerned, looking into his eyes.

"Thank you. Really, I can put off reading again. All time spent with you is precious. It's hard to be away from you, you should know. You're simply enchanting." He took their hand and spun them into his arms.

"Alright, if you say so! We should get going if we want to be on time. I can let them know if you need a little time to get ready?" Mc giggled, buying his excuse. They might have seen though him, but was glad they chose not to say anything.

"I just need my shoes and coat as well. I wouldn't want to hold you up, anyways." He only let Mc go in favor of getting ready. "You know, I'm honestly surprised you aren't already bringing Mammon or Asmo." He told them.

"Me too, actually. Asmo was busy, and Mammon was too distracted with his car repairs to pay attention to what I was saying earlier. I was almost held back by Belphie too. But, I'm here now and I get to spend this time with you." They stood beside him as he tied his shoes and shrugged on his jacket. As the two of them made their way to Purgatory Hall, Mc held his hand so tightly and gazed at him so tenderly, he was almost convinced they were the only thing in the world.

When they arrived, they had plenty of fun. Solomon had arranged a collection of games to play as a group that were randomly decided by drawing slips of paper. To nobody's surprise, Solomon and Mc ended up winning most of them because they were human games. Satan forgot all about the journal. That is, until, he received a phone call in the middle of one of their games. Mc was draped over him with their arms around his neck, also curious about who might be calling them at a time like this. It was Lucifer.

"I told them we were heading out. What could he need?" Mc reached for the phone but Satan stopped them.

"If the call is for me, it's probably to yell at me or something. I don't want you to be on the receiving end of that." Satan rolled his eyes, and brought the phone to his ear, planning to brush off anything he said. He was really only answering because Simeon was in the room, who would answer it for him.

"Come home. Now. You have explaining to do." Lucifer growled through the phone. At first, Satan wasn't worried. He got ominous calls from his older brother like this all the time.

"What is it?" He sighed. Mc laughed a little, causing him to smile. The others began to chat among themselves while he was on the phone. This was normal.

"You know exactly what this is about. On your desk in your room. Underneath three books. Your keys on the left. The pen you used on the right." Satan froze. The smile left his face. Lucifer always sounded serious, but this was one of the few times he sounded like he was about to rip his throat out. He had found the journal. Mc didn't hear what he said, somehow, but noticed his change in demeanor.

"What's the matter, 'Tan?" Mc brushed some hair off his forehead.

"Nothing, my love. Don't worry about it. It's the usual nonsense." He moved the phone away from his ear for the moment, and then back once he was done speaking.

"Let me speak to Mc. I want them home too. Now." The tone Lucifer used to dangerous. Satan knew that was unwise. He didn't know what his plan was, but he didn't trust him at all.

"No. I will come home, but I'm not bringing Mc. I will not needlessly involve them. This will stay between us." Satan began to grow angry. He couldn't help it. Typical Lucifer, complicating matters.

"If you don't come right now, I'll drag you both back personally." Satan knew he wasn't kidding. None of his threats were empty.

"Fine. Have it your way. We'll be home shortly." Satan hung up before Lucifer could respond. By now, the entire room was staring at him. He looked totally different than he had before. He was tense, his rage obvious.

"Are we leaving? What's the matter? Did something happen?" Mc looked at him, concerned.

"I'm heading home to take care of something, but you're staying here. I promise it's nothing serious." He lied through his teeth. He didn't know why Lucifer wanted Mc there, but he knew it couldn't be good. The journal was bad news, and they were involved in no way.

"Are you sure? Lucifer said he wanted me there, right? You know how good I am at sorting out issues in your family. I really don't mind, if that's the issues." They squeezed him a little. They were so caring. Too caring.

"I'm sure. I won't act out or anything. He's probably mad about chores or something. I wonder if Mammon sold his underwear while it was my turn to do laundry again." Satan smiled. They cracked a small smile back.

"Alright. Keep me updated. I'll be waiting for you." Mc pressed a kiss to his forehead before climbing off of him.

"Simeon, before I go, can I have a quick word?" Simeon, who was comforting Luke, turned at the sound of his name.

"Of course." Simeon stood up, gesturing for Mc to take his seat next to Solomon. Luke was seated on the floor between them. Mc looked worried, but moved regardless. Solomon looked around the room, studying everyone's expressions. Simeon walked with Satan to the entry way. "What's the matter?" He asked, holding out Satan's coat for him.

"I want you to place a blessing on this building. Do not let any demon in under any circumstance. Including me. I don't care what they say. I don't have time to explain, but something is very wrong at the House of Lamentation and I don't want a single one of my brothers near Mc." He shoved his shoes on as he spoke. He hastily put on his jacket and turned to look at Simeon one last time.

"I don't know what could be wrong, but I trust you. Mc is safe in mine and Solomon's hands." Simeon let his hands fall to his sides, opening the door for Satan. He watched as he took off running in the opposite direction of the House of Lamentation. He could only stare and wait for him to be a good distance away, before shutting the door. He went back to the living room to find Mc hugging Luke, Solomon with a hand on Luke's shoulder.

"Solomon." Simeon said the sorcerer's name. He stood up and walked over to him. "Satan didn't tell me what the matter was, but I need you to do a quick check of the house to make sure nobody but us is in here. Satan requested I bless the house to keep his brothers out." The expression on both of their faces was grim.

"Of course." Solomon shut his eyes and waved his hand. Once he reopened them, Simeon knew he had completed the check. "Nobody but the four of us are here."

"Thank you. Normally I would ask Luke to help me perform the blessing, but I would prefer to leave him alone for now. Will you accompany me?" Solomon nodded. Simeon led him away, leaving the room together, leaving Mc and Luke along together on the sofa in the once full room.

"What's wrong, Mc?" Luke asked them. For once, they had no clue how to respond to the boy.

"I'm not sure. Simeon might know more, but for now, we just have to wait. In the meantime, do you wanna play some more of the games?" Mc hoped to take his mind of the ordeal.

"I don't really feel like it, sorry." He sighed, worried. He had always had concerns about Mc living with demons and them seemed to be coming to fruition.

"That's alright. Do you want to watching something maybe? Simeon made cookies that are cooling in the kitchen, right? We can get those." Mc tried again to get him in better spirits.

"Let's wait for Simeon and Solomon to get back. They might be worried if they return and we're gone." Luke admitted.

"Good point. I'll turn on a movie for now. What do you want to watch?" Mc got up, leaving Luke in their spot.

"Anything." He usually had more to say. Mc could tell Luke was very worried.

"Alright." Mc went through the various dvds Solomon had stored away near the tv. After finding one they liked, they put it on. The two of them watched this movie together since there was nothing better to do. Eventually, Simeon and Solomon returned with said cookies. Rather than sit on the free couch, they all sat together. They could all tell Luke was worried. The desserts remained untouched.

"I have a surprise that I think you'll like, Luke." Solomon spoke up. Luke picked up his head. "I was told that Mc could stay the night, so we can have a big sleepover together. Does that sound good?" Luke perked up.

"Oh, good. That sounds great! I don't want to send Mc back to those icky demons. Where are we sleeping?" Luke sounded excited, making the rest of the room smile.

“We can stay in my room.” Solomon watched as the little angel jumped out of the cuddle pile and ran to gather pillows and blankets.

“It’s nice to see him happy again. I honestly think he might be more concerned than me.” Mc sighed, reaching for a cookie.

“If we knew what was wrong, we would tell you. I just know Satan asked me to place a blessing on the house.” Simeon explains.

"I figured. It's fine. We just need to hope for the best..." Mc stares at the cookie, thinking about Satan and what he might be doing right now. They just hoped he was safe.

ty for putting up with me and not putting out anything for so long... and sorry for the cliffhanger lol. really wanted this out but a. not sure how much longer it will take and b. not sure what I want the ending to be yet! lol

part two soon hopefully sorry to anon for taking so long!!!!

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theregencywriter · 11 months

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(1) A Gentlemen's Pursuit - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

~Colin returns from his travels with a new friend many expect him to marry, though he had no intentions of this. His brother benedict however, may need to....~

My Dearest Readers,

Oh, how the social elites continue to delight us with their ever-unfolding dramas and whispers of romance. Today, I bring forth the most intriguing news, for it appears that the charming Colin Bridgerton is about to be reunited with an old acquaintance, one whom he met on his travels abroad, and whose arrival is sure to set hearts aflutter.

It is my pleasure to reveal that she plans to stay in London indefinitely and will soon grace the city with her presence. Yes, my dear readers, the very same Miss l/n who has long been rumoured as the top contender for Colin’s affection.

Allow me to remind you of the history shared between Miss y/n l/n and Mr. Colin Bridgerton. They had first met during Colin’s travels around Europe, where they would frolic about the ruins of cities past, engrossed in the innocence of youth. Over their respective journeys, their paths diverged, and Miss l/n’s star rose within many a country’s social leagues, while Mr. Bridgerton pursued his fair share of less than respectable women. But as fate would have it, their paths are destined to converge once again.

Whispers of their reunion have already begun to circulate, and I can assure you, dear readers, that it promises to be a meeting of hearts and minds. Miss l/n’s wit, intellect, and unassuming beauty have long been expected to captivate the hearts of society, while Mr. Bridgerton's reputation as a debonair gentleman precedes him wherever he goes. One cannot help but wonder if their friendship will blossom into something more.

With Miss l/n's arrival imminent, I can only imagine the delight that will permeate the Bridgerton household. I envision stolen glances, heartfelt conversations, and perhaps even the rekindling of a flame that has smoldered quietly for ages. How thrilling it will be to witness the unfolding of this tale!

Thus, dear readers, I implore you to keep your eyes peeled and your ears open, for it is in these quiet moments that love often finds a way to take hold. Let us revel in the enchantment that surrounds the Bridgertons, for it is a testament to the enduring power of love and the possibility of second chances.

Yours in anticipation,

Lady Whistledown…

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

"Martine, must I endure this uncomfortable posture any longer? My arms are beginning to ache" Y/N pleaded, shifting in her seat while maintaining a firm grip on her fan. Its delicate feathers trembled slightly as she stole a glance through the window, yearning for a moment of respite. With an exasperated sigh, her stepmother’s maid responded, her voice tinged with impatience, "Yes, my dear, you must persist. The eager onlookers outside await your arrival. Remember, tomorrow night is your grand debut; a mere glimpse shall suffice."

The carriage advanced closer to the Bridgerton residence, nestled proudly within the esteemed Grosvenor Square. Y/N's eyes fell upon the grandeur of the house, causing her to lower her fan momentarily in awe. However, her maid's sharp instincts brought it back up. Inside of the home, the Bridgerton children played in the lavish drawing room alongside their e mother, while Eloise and Penelope accompanying them. During their gathering, a butler entered the room, his presence commanding attention, and announced with utmost formality, "Miss Y/N has arrived."

Upon hearing the news, Colin sprang from his seat with an eagerness that did not elude Penelope's keen observation. Since his return, he had not stopped speaking about his and Y/N's journey, leading Penelope to suspect that a proposal might be imminent. Despite never having met Y/N, a hidden resentment grew within her, concealed behind a carefully crafted smile.

The Bridgerton family sat in their residence anxiously awaiting her arrival, anticipation filling the air like a palpable force. Colin, though outside, found it difficult to contain his restless energy. He had spoken of Y/N with such fervour and adoration since his return that his family couldn't help but share in his excitement.

As they gathered near the entrance of the door to gaze down the hallway the Bridgerton siblings exchanged eager glances, their faces alive with curiosity. Eloise held her breath, a blend of sisterly anticipation and genuine interest for the newest addition to their social circle. Anthony, the dutiful older brother, attempted to maintain a stoic facade, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of intrigue. The younger siblings—Benedict, Colin's closest confidant, and Francesca—buzzed with whispers and barely contained excitement.

Their mother exuded an air of quiet authority as she surveyed the scene. A mix of hope and maternal concern danced in her eyes, for she wished nothing more than for her children to find happiness in love.

Finally, the sound of hooves reached their ears, growing louder with each passing moment. The tension in the air intensified as the carriage, adorned with elegant embellishments, came into view. The horses pranced along the beaten cobbled road, their coats reflecting the balmy afternoon sunlight.

With bated breath, the Bridgertons watched as the carriage gracefully came to a stop. The footman quickly descended, his precise movements reflecting the well-honed routines of the household. The door swung open, revealing Y/N, resplendent in a gown that blended sophistication and allure. The light caught her eyes, sparkling with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation.

As Y/N exited from the carriage, Colin's gaze locked onto her, his heart pounding within his chest. His eyes conveyed a mixture of awe and longing, as though he had found in Y/N something he had been searching for all his life.

The Bridgerton family, like a unit frozen in time, stood in awe of this new arrival. It was as if the world held its breath, recognizing the significance of this moment. Each member of the family had their own hopes and expectations, their own secrets and desires, intertwined with the arrival of Y/N—a figure who they had heard so much about.

After being helped out of the carriage y/n ran up to Colin, who picked her up by the waist and joyfully spun her around. The two shared a laugh that faded into glee as he lowered her down, their eyes still locked. “You’re here.” He spoke.

“I’m here” she returned.

Colin, ever the eager matchmaker, took Y/N's arm, guiding her towards the entrance of the house. His eyes shone with uncontainable delight as he led her through the hallway.

Within the drawing room, the Bridgerton siblings awaited their arrival, their gazes shifting from the entrance to Colin's expectant face. Among them stood Benedict, the second eldest Bridgerton brother, known by y/n for his artistic abilities.

As Colin and Y/N entered the room, the murmurs hushed, and all eyes turned towards the pair. Benedict's attention was instantly captivated by the sight of Y/N, a vision of beauty and elegance. He analysed the delicate brushstrokes of her features, the way her eyes seemed to hold a plethora of colours.

Colin performed the introductions with excitement. "Y/N, may I present my dear brother, Benedict Bridgerton," he announced, his voice carrying the weight of his fondness for both individuals. Benedict stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Y/N with curiosity.

Y/N curtsied gracefully, her movements reflecting a poise instilled by years of social etiquette. Benedict's eyes lingered on her, captivated by the grace and charm she exuded. He extended his hand, his touch gentle and warm as he took hers in his own. The moment their skin met, a jolt of electricity seemed to pass between them.

Their first words were exchanged, simple pleasantries that masked the intensity of the moment. Yet, beneath the surface, a silent understanding seemed to grow—a recognition of shared interests and hidden desires.

As she was introduced to the rest of the group Penelope stood next to Eloise. y/n curtsied towards her and smiled. “You must be Eloise. I’ve heard so much about you.” Y/n smiled, and as the real Eloise grinned Penelope struggled to keep composure. “I am not. I am Penelope Featherington, Eloise and Colins friend” Y/n apologised and continued on with her introductions, though she could not deny the burning feeling of Penelope’s eyes as she stared at her.

Colin stood next to Benedict as the other end of the line. “Rather beautiful is she not?” Colin said in passing.

“Yes, she is.” Benedict said as his voice trailed off, eyes fixated on her.

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captainwans · 1 month

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IT’S MTV, YOU JUST GOT SLIMED!

— ALEX TURNER

pairing: alex turner x fem! actress! reader

summary: y/n y/l/n graciously accepted her well deserved award from mtv, but little did she know that she was going to get slimed in the process.

warning: nothing but teeth-rotting fluff, humor, laughter and prankster!alex. this is chapter is based and inspired from scarlett johansson’s generation award at the mtv in 2021.

word count: 1,4k | ( gif not mine! )

arabella series!

masterlist!

... [Y/N] HELD THE MTV AWARD WITH BOTH OF HER HANDS, EYES LOOKING AT HERSELF FROM THE COMPUTER THAT WAS PLACED IN FRONT OF HER. She held a graceful smile on her delicate features as she sat crossed legged, waiting for the screen to load. She quietly mumbled what she was gonna say, completely oblivious of Alex standing at the end of room with a devilish smile plastered onto his face.

Since she couldn’t attend the awards and be there physically, she was given the opportunity to make a video due to filming overseas. She was currently joining Alex on tour, having a few weeks off before she was going back to filming her new movie. She was sat beside Matt’s daughter, Amelia, who had all of her art supplies sprawled onto the table.

“Auntie, is that real popcorn?” Amelia asked her, turning her head toward [Y/N] with a curious look.

Her question earned a lot of laughs, including the actress who softly laughed at the little girl. She ruffled her hair before squeezing her cheeks. “No, but I wish it was. Golden popcorn sounds delicious, doesn’t it, bug?” She replied back with a grin, making the little girl giggle as she went back to her drawing.

[Y/N]’s gaze averted away from the little girl toward her computer screen. Her heart fluttered, along with a swarm of butterflies erupting inside her stomach as the screen showed the live broadcast of the MTV Awards. She cleared her throat and fixed her hair, watching the countdown on the screen.

“While [Y/N] [Y/L/N] couldn’t be here with us physically, she’s here live with us right now to receive the award! Everyone, give it up for our favorite Marvel superhero, [Y/N]!” The host announced, and the actress smiled as she heard the crowd cheer from the computer screen.

[Y/N]’s smile widened, using her other hand to wave at the screen. “Thank you all so so much for voting! It marks almost 10 years of being apart of the MCU franchise, and having your love and support means the world to me!” She said with another bright smile as she held the heavy award tightly into her hands.

“Winning Best Actress two years in a row is something that I’m very honored and proud of, and I will continue to work hard and aiming for the best!” She continued as her eyes were glued to the screen, not being aware of Alex almost tip toeing behind her with a bowl of green slime placed into his calloused hands.

[Y/N] continued with her speech, being too focused to not notice everyone around her holding their breath as they watched Alex sauntering toward her with a grin.

Amelia noticed him and was about to say something, but stopped once she saw him placing a finger to his lips. She glued her mouth shut by placing her hands on her mouth. Her muffled giggles earned [Y/N]’s attention for a brief second, but she didn’t let that disturb her and went back with her speech.

Katie grimaced, sitting beside Jamie as the couple watched the spectacle in front of them. “He’s not gonna do it, right?” She whispered, looking at her husband with a look.

Jamie pressed his lips together to stifle back a laugh. He quietly snickered and nodded his head. “Oh, yes. Just watch.”

[Y/N] felt a presence standing beside her, but she ignored it as she was about to finish with her heartfelt speech to her fans. “Lastly, I wanna thank my wonderful cast members, and—“ she managed to say before her speech was interrupted by her audible gasp.

Nick and Miles doubled with laughter as they watched Alex pouring green slime on her. Amelia shrieked with laughter and grimaced, watching the ooze smearing down her face.

[Y/N] felt a sticky, cold and thick matter being poured on her head. She let the award hit her lap with a small yelp, feeling the heavy liquid trickling down her neck and she whirled her head to her husband.

“Alex, what the heck?!” She loudly chided. Her mouth bit back a curse word, noticing Amelia being in the room with them. She closed her mouth and furiously wiped off the slime from her face.

Alex, who was grinning like a child, inched closer to the screen, waving at the live broadcast before turning his attention to his wife. “It’s MTV, you just got slimed!”

Jamie face-palmed with a laugh, leaning his body against Katie, who was a mess from laughing. “Oh, Alex.”

The actress gagged and spit out the slime from her mouth before looking at him with an annoyed look. “That’s Nickelodeon!” She growled, trying to brush off the sticky texture out from her shirt but failing.

Alex looked back and forth from his wife and to the bowl that was placed into his hands. His face faltered for a moment and hummed as he realized. “Oh.”

His response earned another loud session of laughter. Matt and Breana captured the scene with their phones. Jamie and Katie were almost falling off the couch from laughing. Nick and Miles pointed their finger to the lead vocalist with a loud cackle, dying at his response.

[Y/N] was fuming and she mumbled incoherent things as she used her sleeve to remove the slime. She looked at the camera, giving them a tip-lipped smile. She heard the crowd going crazy at Alex’s appearance and she chuckled. Crimson danced across her cheeks and she felt blood rush through her ears, forgetting that they were live. “Well, this is gonna be all they’re gonna talk about on Twitter.” She told her viewers, waving to the camera before closing her computer.

[Y/N] felt him inch closer and she swatted his hands away at his attempt to remove the slime from her hair. “Don’t—Don’t touch me, Alexander.” She said in a stern voice, taking the towel away from his hands.

Amelia stood up from her seat and rushed over to her and grabbed the towel to clean her face. “Let me, Auntie!”

[Y/N]’s face softened at the little girl, closing her eyes as she let her do the work. She gently squeezed her hand, “Thank you, bug.”

Alex stifled back a laugh and nodded his head. He was trying so hard not to crack, and as much as he tried to hold it in he couldn’t. His chest vibrated from laughter and he slapped his knees before collapsing on the couch beside her.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes, her lips curving upwards unknowingly at the sound of his laughter. She opened her eyes, meeting Amelia’s doe-eyes staring right back at her with a toothy grin, which she returned. Her gaze averted way from her toward the others, a small scowl etched onto her face watching her friends still crying and dying from laughter.

“Are you guys done?”

Miles wiped his eyes with his hand and cleared his throat, giving her an apologetic look. “Sorry, love, but you should’ve seen Alex’s face—it was memorable!” He said, his voice cracking at the end making everyone double with laughter.

Amelia was in [Y/N]’s arms and she shifted her body so that she was facing her. “You should give uncle Al a hug.” The little girl said, eyes tinted with slight playfulness and wiggling her eyebrows making the actress chuckle.

Alex’s head shot up toward Amelia, giving her a pout before quickly standing up from the couch. He let out another breathy laugh as he slowly backed away. “Oh, c’mon, Mia. Don’t give her any ideas.” He pleaded, grimacing as he watched her standing up from the couch.

“What a great idea, Amelia. Alex, honey, I forgive you. Now come here you deserve a hug.” She said with a sweet smile as she sauntered toward him with her arms wide open.

Alex cocked his head to the side, shaking his head with a deep scowl. “You know what, I think I’m good.” He brushed her off as he walked backwards and nearly tripping on his feet.

“You don’t want my hugs?” She asked with furrowed eyebrows, her lips turning into a downwards pout. She wanted to laugh at his horrified expression, watching as he used Miles as his shield.

“My hair is freshly gelled, I don’t want to ruin it. Darling, we have a show in a few—“ he excused behind Miles, who was still cackling, and bolted away mid sentence and ran to the door.

[Y/N] scoffed and sprinted toward the door. “Oh, so you’re worried about your hair?! I spend three hours on mine! You’re lucky I’m not divorcing your ass for this!” She yelled at him as she chased him.

“And I got all of this on camera!”

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allhappyandgay · 1 year

Text

The bedroom scene was undeniably flirtatious and romantically coded and whoever says it isn’t is specifically filtering out the signs so they don’t see it

(because we all know if they were straight everyone would clearly view it as what it is: an intimate moment)

here’s why:

Mike’s (and will’s) body language

The shots and cinematography (I was planning on linking @byleranalysis’s video on this scene cuz it’s great but I can’t find it, still though the shots are very telling. edit: t'was found! x)

Labeled ‘intimate moment’ in the script

Interruption trope

It inspired will to take his painting which is a symbol of his love for mike

Mike enters the room, completely shutting the door behind him (no matter the reason), leaving the two of them alone. He sits down on the bed, letting his bottom lip audibly slip out from under his teeth and nervously drums his legs while looking will up and down from behind. he let’s out, “thanks by the way,” which he knows Will will have to question (re: “I didn’t say it”). mike is aware will doesn’t know what he’s referring to, adding clear design to his approach.

Now this could just be me but starting a conversation with something like “thanks by the way,” regarding what you know the other person is unaware of, is intentionally setting them up for a surprise appraisal, which I think is very flirty.

This allows mike to make a joke out of his shitty behavior as a means to lighten the mood because admitting you were wrong and being able to make fun of yourself is hot, sorry not sorry! this is mike giving will permission to laugh at his behavior with him, which seriously throws him off and he looks mike up and down before turning away in excitement, denial, self preservation, vulnerability or most likely all of the above lol, poor flustered will. once he turns away mike draws in a deep breath to wipe the smile off his face so he can focus on apologizing to him. he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was just in so he could get to his point, squinting one eye and stuttering as he changes the subject. “hey, also, but, uh, about the last few days,” he starts, exiting flirting territory.

He tells will his home isn’t the same without him despite having all their other friends, and doesn’t mention his girlfriend until suggesting he was worrying too much about her, followed by “I don’t know, maybe I feel like I lost you or something,” bringing the two right back into a flirtatious standpoint.

This again could just be me, but asking “does that make sense?” is such a… I don’t even know the word, it’s just, such a thing to say lol. there are some situations where it’s annoying to hear, like a parent trying to confirm their child knows what they did was wrong. but the way mike asked will if what he’s saying makes sense low key gives me butterflies. he paused to make sure he’s on the same page in such a soft way and will immediately nods his head, holding back tears. Idk maybe Im making it a bigger deal than it is but I love that simple line from mike so much.

Mike and will both nervously gulp down air, unable to take their eyes off each other. the tension rises as the camera gets closer to both their faces, removing any physical distance you might’ve thought was there at one point. mike tells him that whatever it is that happens next, he thinks it will be easier to go through if they have each other, if they work as a team. quiet moments linger on their teary eyed expressions with every heartfelt addition from mike. he quickly looks will up and down again, emphasizing his desire to be “best friends,”—reciprocating wills own previously stated desire brought to light at rink o mania—his lips slowly parting with anticipation.

Will responds finally with a quiet “cool,” trying to keep his cool lol. you can see his excitement despite the stillness of his body, and there’s a calm steadiness to his eyes, glistening with tear beads. mikes eyes are also shining, the sunlight from the window illuminating his own teardrops sitting comfortably, refusing to fall. he raises one eyebrow as a smirk forms from his lips, looking him up and down once again but slower this time, before completing wills ‘cool’ with his own. he chuffs as his smirk grows into a smile, and they gaze at each other in silence for a couple moments.

This is a huge contrast to how mike was acting before their scene in Jonathan’s room, which tells us something changed for him because of it. mike was reminded how much he loves being with will, how much he missed his company. and without will having to tell him, mike realized he was being an idiot. of course this was seemingly because will reassured him about el, but quite honestly I think it was mostly by will flirting with him. he literally waltzed into wills room—without even knocking first—to get some more of whatever that was between them two scenes prior. and neither of them are fully aware the other is flirting or what that could mean (otherwise we’d be in very different territory by now), which tells us it’s intentional from both parties.

I also think it’s important to mention that what made them start flirting in Jonathan’s room was will reminding mike (and the audience) of their history and how they used to be, saying “that was you guys who saved me, that was you guys.” this is what made mike all giddy and what inspired him to address everything so they could be close like that again.

Based on this logic, will flirting with mike was what “knocked some sense into him”that he was being a “self-pitying idiot,” because mike apologizes to will by following the same energy that inspired him to, flirting. making fun of a situation. joking around.

All they had done since mike got to lenora was fight and ignore each other. then suddenly every moment they get alone they find themselves giving each other heart eyes and hiding stupid grins. they don’t even seem to question it, this is just how they are now. it comes naturally. so when mike realized how good it felt to be in wills presence again without arguing and being petty, just themselves, it probably gave him a huge confidence boost and made him feel better about the entire situation. yes will told him he would have another chance to tell el what he didn’t get to (which is what the GA thinks he wanted to hear), but what really lifted his spirits was having will back in his life, which inspired him to confront and apologize to him. he got a taste of what they could be like, and decided he needed that. he couldn’t go back to fighting and being awkward after their moment in Jonathan’s room. when he confidently swung the door to will’s open, and skipped straight into flirting, that was mike implementing his decision to turn back the clock, make things go back to how they were. but this time with slightly different intentions in mind.

Mike suggesting they be friends (best friends) again is also a callback to, canonically, “the best thing [he’s] ever done,” I might add. that holds a lot of weight, they didn’t need to remind the audience of mikes (also teary eyed and intimate) monologue in s2 but they did. mike basically relived the best thing he’s ever done in this scene.

After mike and will have their “intimate moment,” as the script itself calls it, a tire screech dramatically breaks their eye contact. we are brought back down to earth, where the two of them are actually several feet apart and not face to face. if you felt like they were supposed to kiss, you were quickly reminded that they physically couldn’t lol.

The tire screech wasn’t even that loud and yet their demeanors both changed drastically in less than a second, as if they’ve been caught doing something they shouldn’t. Jonathan hadn’t even barged in yet, but they were so focused on each other that a loud noise basically jumpscared them out of it lmao.

This is, as we all know, the interruption trope, which is used most commonly for ‘will they won’t they,’ tension reliant, slow-burn romances to keep you on the edge of your seat, only to make you throw your arms in the air and yell “oh, come on!”

The last part of the scene mike gets up and goes to the window with Jonathan, but we keep our eyes on will who gives mike one last pineful look before quickly grabbing his painting—a symbol of his love for mike—and stuffs it into his bag.

This is intentionally showing the audience that their conversation gave will either the confidence to give it to him—which he seemingly has been going back and forth between based on mikes behavior toward him, proving that’s what made him decide to take it in the end—or hope that it could go well, possibly implying he thought mike might feel the same, or at the very least was flirting with him (which he was).

The fact this moment was deliberately focused on says “hey! will got an idea from this interaction—one that specifically made him decide to take the painting—so you should too!”

In conclusion, gæ.

#we all know this scene was flirty af but I just wanted to write it all down somewhere cuz it’s been on my mind #can’t believe some ppl don’t think it was gay at all #how was this platonic sorry #mike was being gayer than will and ppl still think it isn’t reciprocated lol #byler #byler endgame #byler s5 #anti mileven #mike wheeler #gay mike wheeler #will byers #byler is requited #byler nation #byler analysis #byler season 4 #my analysis

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homelanderbutbig · 5 months

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His Favourite Pet Name (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1102 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

Homelander is a professional couch cuddler.

It's a lazy afternoon in Homelander's penthouse, a rare occasion where you both have a bit of time off to unwind. His gloves are resting on the coffee table as he is sprawled across his couch, with his head held up on the armrest. You're cuddling on top of his huge body, with your head perched on his chest.

Homelander's left arm is draped around you as he contently grasps onto your petite form, while his right arm is down next to you so you can hold his bare hand. You draw pictures in the softness of his palm, doodling various animals and scenery. Entirely fixated, he watches you use his skin as your personal canvas, cherishing the feeling of your fingers. Writing 'I love you' into his palm, you glance up to spot him grinning so wide you can see his pearly white fangs. He wishes he could do the same to your own hand, but just one of his large fingers could barely draw a circle in your tiny palm.

Seeing his pleased expression suddenly gives you an idea. Fascinated, he watches as you gradually flip over so your stomach is on his chest. His smile disappears as he swallows in anticipation, staring as you reach both your hands out to scratch his undercut. The second you make contact with his hair, he is fluttering his eyes shut and sighing heartily.

"Mmmmm…" Homelander purrs, completely undone by your loving touch. His voice is so deep that you practically feel your whole body vibrate from the rumbling in his chest. It's a weird sensation, almost as if you're lying on a massage chair. Yet it's something you've grown to appreciate, all the little noises he makes when you drag your nails along his scalp. You know that he only does this for you, because you're the only one who can make him feel that heavenly.

Homelander can't fight the urge to clutch your body a little tighter than he'd prefer, but you know he just wants to feel closer to you. Besides, he would never hurt you. You giggle as he practically whimpers when you scratch just the right spot, wishing he could bury himself in your masterful fingers.

It's a funny sight seeing him like this. At work, he's a totally different person; a beast disguised as a man in a superhero suit, striking fear and awe into the hearts of millions. Once he is alone with you, any masquerade he was previously wearing disintegrates to reveal the kind, tender boy Homelander tries so hard to conceal. Sure, he could just pay some random schmuck to pet his head, but it wouldn't be the same. No one else would understand his needs like you do, and how much he craves to be doted on with your unconditional devotion. You do this for him, because you love him as much as he loves you.

Enveloping your small frame around both hands, he gently lifts you nearer to his face. His expression is so serene from how relaxed you’ve made him, his worries completely forgotten from your heartfelt affections. He brings you in for a kiss, involuntarily keening as he savours your warmth.

"Mmmph… love you… love you…" Homelander whispers in between kisses, repeating himself until he's drowning in your plush lips.

"Love you too, big boy," you hum as you bring your hands to his cheeks, feeling a smile spread across his lips while he exhales deeply through his nose.

Although he would never admit it to anyone, Homelander has always been self-conscious about his height. He has only ever heard the word 'big' used to describe him in a negative context… a big freak, a big monster, a big demonic goliath. Even if he killed everybody who insulted him like that, it would never heal the scars that were carved into his psyche. He knows the truth, that his 'adoring public' sees him as an inhuman giant.

When you first started giving him pet names, he was enthralled at everything you would call him. Each name was just as special as the last. He beamed at every 'sweetheart', 'honey' and 'darling' that rolled off your tongue so easily, solely for his ears.

One day you happened to test out a new name, 'big boy'. At first you were worried you made a mistake upon seeing his face twitch and his eyes turn glassy, like you brought back some terrible memories. In reality, Homelander was so utterly overwhelmed to hear someone not use his height in a derogatory way, for what felt like the first time in his life. From then on it became his favourite pet name, and he always smiles at hearing those sweet words you speak so earnestly. There is nothing that makes him more proud than to hear that he is your big boy.

Eventually, you both break from your passionate kisses, but stay close to nuzzle your noses together. You stroke along his jawline with your thumbs, admiring the tranquil silence of the penthouse as if nothing else matters in this world except for you and Homelander.

"I never did thank you," he remarks, dreamily gazing into your eyes. He still has both of his hands on you, resuming his dainty touches along your back.

"For what, sweetie?" you question, unable to mask the slight confusion on your face. Lightly chuckling at the way you tilt your head at his words, he moves one of his hands to caress your face with his enormous thumb and finger.

"For the pet name," he tells you candidly, loving how perfectly your face fits in his hand, like it was always meant to be there. "You really have no idea how much it means to me. I wish I could show you."

"You already have," you promise him, kissing him delicately on his nose. "My big boy."

You laugh as Homelander peppers your face with more kisses, the both of you smiling as he showers you with his neverending appreciation.

There are days where he wishes that he was shorter, so he wouldn't have to deal with the horrified looks and isolation he felt from the general population. The way they perceive him to be a gigantic killing machine. But then, there are days where you are the shining beacon breaking through his dark and stormy mind. You let him feel glad that he is the way he is, otherwise he could never live up to your pet name.

It doesn't matter what the peons have to say, as long as Homelander gets to be your big boy.

#the boys #the boys tv #homelander #homelander x reader #g/t #size difference #my writing

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anxious-witch · 3 months

Text

Okay part two on Bojan's photoshoot analysis. Part one is here, so without further ado, let's get started.

As always these are entirety subjective and my own opinion, you are free to disagree and add on your thoughts as long as you aren't being a dick about it

Starting off strong, we have Bojan, only in his underwear, smoking a cigaratte and looking into the camera.

His face is tortured, and he is smoking, implying once again, that he needs something to keep his feeling, his anxiety at bay. But you can still see his inner turmoil on his face.

His pose is more relaxed than I'd expect, though. He isn't flexing and despite being in only his underwear, his pose isn't drawing attention to his body. In that moment, he is vulnerable enough to expose it, and letting it be soft and real. Although his face makes me feel like this is due to exhaustion rather than true show of trust.

The flowers in the corner are very interesting too. Thank you to @theraggedygirl11 and @wild-joker-out-pleasures for helping me identify them as hydrangeas. I think this particular bit is very symbolic for Bojan here:

"The etymological meaning of hydrangea stems from the Greek words for water, hydros and jar, angos. It was given to the plant because of its shape resembling an ancient water pitcher. How fitting, since hydrangeas require constant moisture to stay happy, healthy and blooming.

While everyone seems to agree that hydrangea care includes a lot of watering, the symbolism of the flowers varies drastically between cultures. In Japan, the flower is associated with heartfelt emotion, understanding and apology. The Japanese emperor apparently made a lasting impression not only on his girlfriend’s family but also the rest of his empire. The hydrangea can further symbolize unity and togetherness.

Contrastingly, hydrangeas have a negative sentiment in Europe where they were used to declare arrogance and boastfulness. This association is based on the ability of the plant to produce many flowers but very few seeds. English men in the 1800s used to send hydrangeas to women who rejected them, accusing them of frigidity. Thanks to the Victorian men’s poor attitude and lack of empathy, it is believed that young women who grow hydrangeas in their front yard will never get married. In other words: if you’ve been unlucky in finding a partner, maybe you should check your grounds for hydrangeas."

And man, what a message to send! Once again, Damon plays with the duality of Bojan. Is he someone boastful, a playboy who cares about nobody, like so many people perceive him? Or is he heartfeal, and full of emotion?

Also to have a flower that needs constant water to bloom next to a man whose element in this photoshoot is fire? God, Damon, I am in your walls.

In all seriousness tho, Damon is very much not subtly implying that Bojan need to keep himself nourished on things that make him bloom, or he will burn out.

This fuether repeats here. I already analyzed these photos in a previous part, but with this quote it confirms my above statement. Don't let your anxiety and expectations of others break your heart. You are allowed to be fragile and vulnerable. You have to be, or you'll get burned.

God, these three. To start from the top one, once again we have a more rugged look from Bojan. I am not sure if he is wearing makeup, or if it's the light, but it looks like there is thick, black eyeliner framing his eyes. We also have spikes and a leather shirt. His arms are in a very boxy position, his hands behind his head and he is looking directly into the camera.

This pose actually reminds me of the pose one has to do before being arrested in the movies. Literally holding his hands behind his head. The defiant look on his face. Like he is surrendering, but it's against his will, he is still protesting this show of vulnerability. His defiant gaze seems almost taunting, almost asking if we are entertained by what we are seeing.

Also I know a lot of people said the addition of Slovenian flag feels random and goofy, but I'd say this shows how in a way, Bojan is carrying that weight of now forever representing Slovenia. They went to ESC, but Bojan never fully went back. He can't-now they are forever tied as a band that represents the country.

And that isn't a bad thing, but it's a pressure on his shoulders, a need to keep up the facade of a tough playboy everyone seems to want him to be.

Immediately followed by the picture on the bottom left. A literal scream, resembling the picture The Scream by Edvard Munch, which @reverse-strawberry-milk already pointed out. The weight of his emotions caught up to him, you can practically hear his torture scream here, the facade crumbling completely.

And then, a completely switch in the picture three. He is soft, trusting. Open. One of his eyes is even closed. He doesn't have to be fully focused on the camera. He doesn't have to play it up for the invisible crowd, he can just relax.

And at last, these last three. First two play up with the elements we previously saw, first one show duality of Bojan's soft expression with such a rugged outfit, calling back to the broken hearted belt and fragility he feels he is destined to hide behind countless layers.

Second one features a cigarette again. Fire is dangerous, but so enticing, just as cigarettes are. How far are you willing to destroy and poison yourself to be entertaining? How much are you willing to burn out, to keep reaching out fir cigarettes to calm you, before you have to take a break and find a healthier way to deal with your anxiety?

Last one, an even fuller, better version of the soft picture from part one. He is wearing soft jumper Damon borrowed him, the one he feels safe in. This is not a face of someone who had a mental breakdown just moments before like in the black and white picture, no. This is full circle. Acceptance and healing. It's in color because Damon didn't want any harsh lines here, which happen in black and white even when the face is smoothed out.

No-this one is fully for Bojan to see himself in the best way he can be. Soft and trusting. "Promise me something? I'll keep creating for you and I. But you have to also. Go create. No boundaries. Let it all out."

What a way to show all that! Let it all out. All the anger, despair, anxiety, expectations. Because there is always softness underneath all that. When you strip all of it, what is left, but you?

Anyway, I got a bit carried away there at the end, my bad, but I genuinely adore the subtle storytelling Damon does via his photos. I love that Kris has a lot more separate headshots, while Bojan has several pictures all at once. Once again, a hint towards someone showing openness vs someone being torn between two possible versions of themselves.

As always, if you have ajy additional thoughts, feel free to add them, I love hearing other peoole's opiniom on this!

#rio rambles #joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #damon baker #rio's analysis

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aurora-starwars · 1 year

Note

hii could i request a neteyam fic where y/n (she/ her) is captured at the start of the movie and neteyam saves her and its angsty but fluff and heartfelt at the end

Life Is The Flower For Which Love Is The Honey

Pairing: Neteyam x fem!reader

Summary: When reader is captured by dream walkers, Neteyam is determined to save her

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: some angst, some swearing I think

A/n: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you like it! I enjoyed writing it! Let me know if you want a part 2! <3333333333

Masterlist

[Name] was running.

Running as fast as she could from the monster that had only been told to her through stories.

She didn’t know where she was going or what her plan was, all she knew was to get as far away as possible. Jumping over roots and ducking under branches, [Name] tried to ignore the beauty of Pandora in order to survive. But as she continued to run, the life around her became all too distracting.

She hadn’t been running long, but the her adrenaline carried her far. Finally slowing down, she found herself to be familiar with the area. Hearing roar of water crashing into the river below, only reenforced her thinking.

Looking around, admiring the beauty around her, [Name] gave herself a moment to think.

[Name] could only wonder if the others got out, hoping they got away from the seemingly reincarnated monster.

They had only been exploring when the dream walkers found them. They grabbed their queues and holding them at gun point. One man, the monster himself, insisted that they tell him where Jake Sully was. [Name] couldn’t understand how he could comeback when it had been clear he was dead. [Name] had beginning to lose hope when she heard Neytiri’s call signs from deep within the trees. The five kids looked at one another, forming a silent plan to escape at the first chance they got.

The moment [Name] had heard the familiar ‘fwip’ sound of Neytiri’s arrow brushed past her ears, she made a beeline for the trees, watching as the others tried to do the same.

[Name] looked up into the trees above her, the sky appeared to be approaching eclipse meaning it was close for the sun to leave them for the night again. [Name] hoped that would mean that the dream walkers would return to their base as they did not know how to survive the night.

Once again admiring the bioluminescent wildlife around her, [Name] took the quiet moment to enjoy the forest. Taking a seat against the tree, she thought about the glowing flowers beside her. Reaching out to tap the leaf gently, [Name] was reminded of why she and Kiri got along so well. Kiri seemed to have a gift with her connection to Eywa while [Name] couldn’t help but fall in love with the world around her. [Name] smiles, thinking of what Neteyam said about–.

[Name]’s ears twitch, her thought long forgotten as she hears the shuffling of leaves and the loud crunches of footsteps. Back firmly pressed against the back of the tree, [Name] curled in on herself in attempt to hide. Holding her breath, she heard the footsteps draw near. She curses to herself internally.

Skxawng.

She knows these are not the foots of an animal or a fellow na’vi. And she knows that she is not going to be able to run again this time. She only wished she ran another way, kept running, or even climbed the tree she was currently resting against.

Skxawng.

She cursed herself again. How could she be this naïve? She knew better. But as she looked up to see the monster himself grinning down at her, she knew she should have kept running. Her gasp was instantly met with a quick strike to the back of her head, knocking her out cold.

.ೃ࿐

“Where is she?!” Neteyam was get anxious at this point. Where the hell was [Name]?

Neteyam knew something was wrong the moment they got back and [Name] didn’t run to him immediately. For the first while, he was just happy that his siblings were safe and unscathed. But as time went on, and his beloved was still out there, his worry started to bubble over. It didn’t take long before his thoughts leaped to the worst.

What if she was hurt?

Neteyam started pacing.

What if she was attacked?

Neteyam’s heart started racing.

What if she was taken?

Neteyam struggled with the thoughts he was facing.

What if she was killed?

Neteyam sucked in air at the thought, feeling his hands shake, he went to hold his bow. He had to shake the thought from his head, [Name] was skilled, she would manage on her own.

But as he tried to calm himself, Spider came running into the hut.

Breathing heavily, he managed: “Guys! They’ve taken [Name]!”

Neteyam’s heart sank. He swears he could feel the blood drain from his face.

“They have her, the avatars! The sky people have her!” Spider exclaimed, finally regaining his breath.

Neteyam’s mind was a mess. How could he let her leave without him! How could he not have gone to save her and his siblings with his parents? Why weren’t you here with him!? He thought of the stories he has been told about the sky people and what they did to the Omatikaya clan. He couldn’t help but wonder what they would do to his [Name]. His precious, kidnapped [Name].

Neytiri tapped Neteyam’s shoulder, snapping him out of the spiral he was falling into. When he looked up at her, he found a furious look painted on her face. His mother had always treated [Name] like her own ever since Neteyam told her of his feelings a long time ago. He knew this. Neytiri was a passionate warrior, and a protective mother.

Seeing the determined look in her eye reminded him of the crime at hand.

The sky people took his [Name]. And he will be getting her back.

Just like that, Neteyam’s mind snapped back into place, and rage roared in his eyes.

As spider reported, they had just taken [Name] meaning they were probably still in the air; so they needed to act quickly. In quick words, he explained his plan to his mother before jumping on his Ikran and putting his plan into motion

.ೃ࿐

[Name] woke to the loud sounds of helicopter blades whirling rapidly. Sitting up with a gasp, she was met with the faces of the dream walkers who held her and the Sully kids captive.

“Well, look who’s up!” Quaritch exclaimed in english. The monster grinned in a manner that [Name] could only describe as wicked.

As the monster began to speak about his journey to pandora, [Name]’s eyes wondered to her environment. She was in a big metal flying ship as she understood, the forest far below her. Part of her was tempted to hurl herself off of the side through the very empty side doors, just to spite him. But with the dream walker behind her with a tight grip on her queue, that was out of the question.

Quaritch continued, speaking about how Jake had killed his original body and how he would not be killed so easily. [Name] was fighting hard not to roll her eyes, knowing that would not end well for her. Quaritch then spoke on how he wanted to kill Jake and all of his family, which tried to only respond with the tightening of her fist but she could not control the furrowing of her brows as she held a dark look.

It was clear this man had one goal and one goal only. And [Name] was another step on the way to achieving his goal.

And there was no way in any world that [Name] was going to let him touch even one member of the Sully family.

Just as Quaritch started to smirk at the [Name]’s reaction, his comms went off.

“Ummm, we have a herd of Ikran inbound 2 o’clock” Each passenger shifted their focus to the fleet of Ikran flying towards them.

The dream walker holding her queue let go in order to main the guns. It was rush to grab a weapon and [Name] was practically forgotten. But when she got a glimpse of the incoming hoard, she couldn’t help but smile.

She could see his Ikran.

She would be saved, but for now, she had to do her best to assist in this rescue mission. She watched as the hoard started to take down the ships surrounding her helicopter. Quick arrows flashed in then out of her vision as they wizzed by her, taking out the gun men on the surrounding ships.

It was chaos, the flurry of Ikrans brought so much colour that [Name] couldn’t help but find it beautiful. A cheer sounded as someone flew past her on a familiar Ikran. She could hear Neytiri shout something before resuming her archery.

Two arrows suddenly shot down the two gun man on the right side of the ship, and [Name] moved to see Neteyam’s determined eyes looking right back at her. She only nodded, watching as he made a quick movement in another direction.

[Name] knew what this meant and she knew what Neteyam was about to attempt. Readying herself, she looked back to see if Quaritch and the other dream walkers were paying attention. But seeing them very much preoccupied, she took a step a way from the edge of the helicopter. Taking a deep breath, [Name] waited for the signal. The anticipation was killing her and her heart rate only seemed to climb as she thought of what she was attempting. All of her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the ‘yip’.

Her body reacted immediately, she took one big, quick step to the edge and leaped off the platform under her. Reaching out, her heart dropped with the sensation of the fall.

It wasn’t even seconds before Neteyam grabbed her arm from underneath her as his Ikran flew up, directly vertical in order to catch her. [Name] was quick to hold on to Neteyam as he levelled out. To say [Name]’s grip was an understatement, letting go of Neteyam was the last thing she wanted to do.

As Neteyam made for their base, he brought his hand to cover [Name]’s, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“I’ve got you, yawne. Nga yawne lu oer.”

yawne = beloved

Nga yawne lu oer = “I love you” (You beloved are to me)

A/n: Thank you for reading! Feel free to request! Here is the request guidelines, just makes it easier for me! <333333

Master-list

Tag list: @nyotamalfoy

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dmercer91 · 8 months

Note

i’m in a roll with luca and black cat-

anyway

black cat not knowing what to get luca’s parents, so she both gives them a few framed photos of the boys big moments, but also sketches one or two of them out on a canvas

and they’re so thankful, but don’t want yo make it awkward

and adam- because he beats luca to it- goes up to his parents while black cat goes to the restroom or soemthing an explains js how much it means fo ther to give them her drawings

and it makes luca all 🥹 for black cat and adam’s bond

i’ve come back from the dead (i’ve been gone for a day)

i was so tired last night i fell asleep on the couch and my dad had to bring me to my room like when i was 7

but i started a load of laundry so i could stay up and write (knowing something needs to be done before i sleep is the only way i can function i hate myself)

but yes!!!! she makes a series of these three moments from ushl to mich to draft day for their christmas present

but like the boys are isolated and the backgrounds are all white

the middle one she’d done for a project (nobody knows this and she will make sure it stays that way) where she had to paint something with like visible facial expressions

but she felt like that wasn’t enough so she made multiple

she showed them to luca before they left for the holidays and he nearly sobbed on the spot

like he hugged her and held her head and smooshed her hair around in excitement and told her how much he loved her

and the hug lasted so long

fantilli christmas’ | opposites attract au, lf63

you’d never woken up early on christmas mornings, you never really celebrated other than being happy to have the day off and exchanging a gift between you and your dad

you’d had trees and sometimes your dad would convince you to make cookies, but only when you were much younger

so it was definitely weird to be awake before daylight, greeted with a tree full of gifts and lucas mom handing you a plate of bacon, eggs and french toast.

your legs were laid over lucas, your head rested on his shoulder while you fought sleep, his hands gently running through your hair not helping your case.

while adam dragged himself into the room, tired and rubbing sleep from his eyes, luca tilted his head to the side to be level with you

you gave him a small grin and he tilted your head to peck your lips, moving back to his original position once adam dropped down beside him and caused a ripple in the cushions

“it’s too early for you two to be-“ adam gestured vaguely in your direction, grumbling to finish his sentence

his mom brought him coffee and his food, and then everyone started on gifts.

yours to lucas parents was buried at the back of the tree- since you felt a little embarrassed by it and wanted to put off letting them open it for as long as possible

when they finally got to it you gave a small smile and clutched onto luca, nerves kicking in full force

luca was giddy, all too excited for his parents to open up your present, so he squeezed your hand and kissed your forehead, trying to reassure you that everything would be okay

they opened it and right away, their mom looked up with a heartfelt smile while they’re dad was just staring

“you’re so talented, sweetheart. thank you,” she turned her attention back to the art and leaned on her husband, smiling.

when they both looked back up, their eyes were watering and yours went wide, looking up at luca who was beaming at his parents

adam sent you a reassuring look, so you looked back over to them.

“can i hug you?” his mom tilted her head, smiling softly while getting up from her seat.

you nodded slightly, feeling a little awkward and you untangled yourself from luca and wrapped your arms around her waist.

she squeezed you tight, cupping your face and pulling back to look at you

“thank you, y/n,” you smiled in return, nodding slightly and moving back to your seat, re attaching yourself to luca.

the five of you sat around the living room for a while after everything was out away, yourself mostly silent

eventually, you poked lucas arm and mumbled that you were going to get ready. he smiled and kissed you, mumbling an okay before taking his arm off from around you and watching you walk off

once you were gone, his mom spoke up

“she’s beautiful, luca. and she’s got the biggest heart,” all he could do was smile, his heart swelling in his chest at her praise of you

“she’s good, isn’t she?” adam beamed, nodding to the piece you’d painted that was safe on the side table until there was time to put it up

both of their parents nodded and adam continued

“she works hard, mama. she was nervous for you to see. think it’s cause she spent so long and wanted you to like it,” luca watched his brother, smile getting harder and harder to contain

“well, we love it,” she reassured, adam smiling

“she’s at michigan for art, so she would’ve had to take extra time on top of other pieces. and i know she prefers to draw, so i think you guys liking it was really important for her,” he finished, smiling to himself

he looked over at luca, who was just glowing with pride for you, and his cheeks flushed

“sorry,” he mumbled and luca shook his head

“she loves you, too, mo,”

#e’s 500 celly!#e’s blurbs!#opposites attract au !#luca fantilli #luca fantilli x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #umich hockey

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lulublack90 · 2 months

Text

Prompt 29 - Address

@jegulus-microfic February 29 Word count 918

Previous part First part

The meeting was in an hour, and still, Kreacher hadn’t returned. Regulus was getting worried that the house elf never would.

“Regulus, it is time for us to be leaving.” Walburga was suddenly in front of him. He’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t even heard her approaching. That had been dangerous and foolish.

“Yes, Maman, I’m coming.” Walburga grasped his arm with her claw-like fingers, digging the nails in more than was necessary.

They apparated outside the gates of Malfoy Manor. Regulus followed Walburga, who swept into the grounds as if she owned the place.

“My dear Lady Black,” Voldemort swooped over to address her as soon as she’d entered the drawing room. She held out her hand, and Voldemort lowered his lipless mouth to it, kissing her knuckles. Regulus had to hide his sudden nausea.

“I hope Kreacher is serving you well, My Lord.”

“Yes, though I am afraid the elf blundered at the last moment and didn’t survive the task given to it.” Regulus gulped. Kreacher couldn’t be dead!

“I apologise profusely, My Lord. Kreacher has always been a loyal, diligent servant.” Even Regulus caught the slight tang of fear in his mother’s words. Voldemort peered at Walburga before his strange smile crossed his face.

“I do not blame you, Lady Black. It is hardly your fault that the elf was unable to perform the task I asked of it.” Regulus spotted Evan and Barty and took a step towards them. “Regulus, do not stray. We must greet your cousins.” Walburga hissed at him before he could go any further. Reluctantly, Regulus followed his mother around the room, making small talk with the country’s worst, the entire time worrying about Kreacher.

Once he’d been around the entire congregation, Walburga allowed him to greet his friends while she took part in a side meeting with Lucius and Narcissa.

“Fucking hell Reg, you look like shit.” Barty greeted him.

“Thank you, Bartemius, for your kind words.” He looked around to make sure they weren’t being watched. “Prick,” He smirked at his friend.

“So why’s Lady Twat still here?” Evan asked, keeping his voice low.

“The Dark Lord asked for Kreacher to help with something. He’s dead.” He swallowed, biting back the swell of emotions, fighting to get out.

The meeting took forever to get through. Regulus made careful notes in his mind of the new attacks and raids Voldemort had planned to write in his notebook.

Walburga escorted him home after the meeting ended.

“Well, I suppose I shall have to procure a new servant.” She said, making it seem like an inconvenience. “Shame, Kreacher was useful.” She continued on as if he meant nothing to her, which Regulus supposed was probably true as Walburga Black cared for no one but herself. “I shall be leaving for the country estate in the morning. I expect you to be up and dressed to bid me farewell.”

“Yes, Maman.”

“Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, Maman.”

Regulus waited until he heard her bedroom door close, then raced to his own room. “Kreacher!” He called in his most demanding voice. “Kreacher, come here!” He called, and he called. “Kreacher, I demand that you return to this house!” A sharp crack made him jump as the shivering form of his house elf appeared on the carpet before him.

He gathered the elf into his arms and let the tears drip onto his limp form. He was freezing cold. Regulus grabbed a blanket from his bed, wrapped it around the elf and placed him in front of the fire to warm.

He must have fallen asleep at some point because he woke to his mother screaming his name. He quickly smoothed his robes and hurried to the stairs.

“Finally! Well goodbye. I do not know when I shall return next. I shall send word when I am.” And that was that, no heartfelt words. Regulus was just left alone in that gloomy house.

Kreacher was alert when Regulus returned to his room.

“Sorry, Master Regulus, Kreacher just needs a moment, and he’ll get your breakfast ready.” The elf croaked, followed by a hacking cough.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kreacher. The only thing I need from you is to tell me where he took you.” The elf started shaking as he turned his huge, round eyes to stare hauntedly at Regulus.

“The Dark Lord took Kreacher to a cave, Master Regulus.” Regulus inhaled. The cave!

He got Kreacher to tell him everything he could, and then he got him to repeat it all again.

He wrapped the elf more firmly in the blankets and told him he was to stay there and recover, and he was to talk to no one and never repeat what they had just discussed. He pulled out his mirror and opened it.

“James! James!” A bleary-eyed James Potter appeared. Squinting into the mirror. “James the cave. He took Kreacher to the cave. I think he hid a Horcrux there. James, I need your help.” He blurted out at high speed. James carefully placed his glasses on his face and blinked the sleep from his eyes.

“Okay, where should I meet you?”

***

They stood beside each other on the rocks, staring into the blackness of the cave entrance on the side of the cliffs. James took his hand as they prepared to enter.

“Ready, love?” Regulus looked up into James’s warm hazel eyes and felt a bravery he’d never felt before as he turned back to the cave.

“Yes.”

To be continued…

Next part

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onyxbird · 1 year

Text

OK, the idea of a soulmate au where you can't look anyone but your soulmate directly in the eyes was not done with me yet.

Leverage version:

Sophie knows all the tricks for faking full eye contact. For a third-party observer, it's nigh-impossible to tell that she's not quite achieving direct eye contact short of using cameras with very good eye-tracking software. Trying to fool a mark into thinking she's their soulmate via “eye contact” is tougher, but on a mark who hasn't met their own soulmate (and thus has never experienced true full eye contact), Sophie still has a pretty good success rate. Every member of the team has been drafted as her fake soulmate on a con at least once. Or, at least, Sophie has tried. Parker failed to pick up on any of the hints Sophie was able to drop without blowing their cover, so Sophie had to switch tactics. Hardison tried valiantly to hold the near-eye-contact, and they pulled off the job, but he was struggling and his resulting nervous blather did not help the illusion at all. Eliot picked up her cues and pulled off the illusion flawlessly… and hated every second of it. The first time they faked prolonged eye contact, he ducked away to Nate's bathroom the second they got in the door, and Sophie (slightly insulted) wondered if he was going to throw up. He didn't, just practically boiled his skin off in the hottest shower he could stand. Nate is by far Sophie's most frequent “soulmate” on the job… None of the rest of the team are entirely sure whether the eye contact is fake or not, and neither Nate nor Sophie is telling.

Parker has never had any interest in making eye contact, and was genuinely unaware that this was a serious thing people actually believe in. (Sure, people talk about finding their “soulmate” through eye contact, but people also talk about summoning Bloody Mary through the bathroom mirror. That doesn't mean it's real.) The first time she looked directly into Hardison's eyes was both accidental and jarring. She averted her eyes and assumed they would never mention this uncomfortable situation again. She was not expecting Hardison to suddenly want to have an intense, excited conversation that was clearly loaded with some meaning she wasn't picking up on, and she definitely wasn't expecting him to do so while trying to eagerly stare into her eyeballs. When Eliot happened to walk in, she latched onto him like a spooked cat, demanding he do something about Hardison; there was something wrong with him, like he's possessed or something; make him stop!

Eliot has habitually avoided even the possibility of eye contact with anyone since he was in high school. (He certainly wasn't trying to lock eyes with people even before that, but, well, he and Aimee had tried once, back when they were young and naive and thought maybe they were meant to be. They weren't.) In his line of work… it was better not to know. There was just no way that would end well. He doesn't have anything against other people finding their soulmates, though. Really. So he's not quite sure why there's such a bite to his words when he snaps at Hardison to knock it off—that “soulmates” is no excuse for trying to look someone in the eye when they don't like it. But he's sure he can feel a headache forming as he's stuck between Parker's “'Soulmates'! Ha! …Oh, come on. You're kidding, right? That's not real” from one side and Hardison's horrified “Oh my god, I'm sorry! Parker, I am so, so sorry—I was just so excited, you know? I didn't realize—” start of what was clearly going to be a long and heartfelt apology on the other.

Hardison thinks soulmates are very romantic, and he's always hoped, you know? He tries not to talk too openly about it—dreaming of finding your soulmate was deemed “girly” and “wussy” by the popular boys at his high school, and he had more than enough targets on his back for bullying as a kid without drawing attention this one. He's always kind of thought he'd probably never find his, if he even had one. He did so much of his socializing with like-minded people online, and you can't make eye contact—not real eye contact—over a webcam. There have been some near misses that made his heart flip (Hell, back during that first Dubenich job, when Eliot had taken out all the Pierson guards and then given him that smug little smirk, for an instant—just for an instant—Hardison had almost thought their eyes met directly. He must have imagined it, too caught up in the incredibly sexy and unexpected display of competence on display in front of him to avoid a split second of daydreaming about what it would feel like to look straight into those incredibly blue eyes. Anyway, it had never happened again, and after working together for so long, they surely would have looked each other in the eyes by now if it were possible.), but no dice. Until now. Parker, though… Even while apologizing (he should have realized to be more careful with Parker), Hardison could barely keep the absolutely giddy smile off his face. There had been no mistaking that, and god when people talked about “getting lost” in their soulmate's eyes… Wow, they weren't kidding!

Nate will expound at length about how the concept of “soulmates” and consequently the act of making eye contact have been exploited and commercialized for all of recorded history, the absence of any scientific evidence that the rare ability to make eye contact with another person actually correlates with any real measures of relationship compatibility rather than being a random biological quirk that has been superstitiously fetishized, and (if the person who brought it up isn't desperately trying to escape the conversation yet) whether the concept soulmates is compatible with Catholic theology. Very few people last long enough through his disparagement of the entire concept to notice that he has skirted around ever actually saying whether or not he's ever made direct eye contact with another person, and even fewer are willing to risk touching off another lengthy tirade to press him on the matter.

Thanks @soulmate-au-bargain-bin for the fun idea!

#soulmate au #soulmate eye contact au #leverage aus #leverage ot3 #leverage #soulmate au bargain bin

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snekkerdoodles · 21 days

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[OPTIONAL] Doodle Request/Challenge: Draw 2 Glitch Pokémon if they were members of a PMD Duo (I both would love to see how you'd approach this, but also I think the concept of two things that shouldn't be of this world wearing scarves that somehow fit while being on a team to save Pokémon is cute (Note that the easiest of the Glitch Pokémon to draw are the ever present Bad Egg, and the Generation III Question Mark Sprites).

Also, while I'm here, I just wanted to say I really enjoyed the Fangz name origin comic. Both something very heartfelt while also hilarious. I can't wait to see whatever you post next!

Thank you so much! This is such a sick idea btw. Notes/research under read more.

Two mysterious Pokemon that, despite their good intentions, should probably be avoided when seeking allies for dungeon runs. Other exploration teams assume that they came into existence during some sort of time distortion that occurred before temporal tower was fully repaired.

Em constantly carries around tons of berries in order to make up for the fact that being around her decreases her allies' ability to heal wounds naturally, not to mention that reviver seeds don't seem to work in her presence. Because Em's treasure bag is constantly filled to the brim with oran berries, she often forgets to pack other useful items.

Polly is a Pidgeotto... or perhaps a Noctowl? Her colors don't exactly make it very clear. She speaks in a song-like voice, and once your get her to start singing, it's very difficult (if not impossible) for her to stop, and there's many things that inspire her to start. In dungeons, her song has the ability to paralyze anyone who listens to it, even allies.

The egg the two carry with them has remained unhatched for a long time, so they've decided to try and take care of it on their own due to feeling bad about taking up space in Chansey's daycare. Most Pokemon have come to associate this egg with bad luck, so the two try their best to keep their eyes on it at all times so that nothing happens while they're not looking.

#requests #asks #my art #doodles #pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon

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cowgurrrl · 8 months

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Hey June; could I ask for mother’s day in the Miller household? With Joel, Sarah, Ellie, and Sammy doing something nice to surprise you? Just all the kids and Joel being such a wife guy and showering his wife with love, I need it 🤍

Saph!! Thank you for the request 🩷Sorry this took literally forever but here it is!!

Hey Me, Hey Mama

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Summary: Mother’s Day [1.7k]

Warnings: fluff, brief mention of breastfeeding, talks of having another baby, Sam and Daisy being Hell Raisers

You hear the whispering outside your door before you can open your eyes. It sounds a lot like Joel and the girls having a hushed argument while Sam jiggles the door knob underneath their noses, his favorite thing to do since he's started walking. You smile and roll so your back is to the door and pretend to be asleep as quiet footsteps enter the room. Joel's side of the bed dips with his weight, and a gentle hand smoothes the hair out of your face a moment later.

"Hey," he says gently, and you hum. "There's a surprise for you." You blink your eyes open to find Sam in Ellie's arms at the edge of your bed while Sarah carefully slides a tray full of breakfast on your bedside table. Eggs, bacon, a little bit of toast, and a huge Starbucks coffee with little cards tucked under the plate fill the tray, and you smile.

"Happy Mother's Day." The girls say in unison as Sam babbles along, trying his best to keep up with his sisters. You turn to look at Joel and see a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"Happy Mother's Day." He echoes. You sit up, giving Sam enough reason to wiggle away from Ellie and into your bed.

"Oh, thank you, guys," you say as Sam collapses into your chest with all his toddler weight, making himself laugh. "D'you guys make this all by yourselves?"

"Dad helped," Sarah answers, and Ellie slaps her arm. "I mean, yes."

"One job," Joel mumbles under his breath next to you, and you laugh.

"Well, thank you to everyone who made this. It looks amazing." You say as you hold Sam with one hand and grab the food tray with the other. Sammy snuggles into your side, occasionally reaching for a piece of egg which you give him until he decides he's actually hungry and all but rips your shirt trying to nurse. Thankfully, neither the girls nor Joel gives you a second glance. After almost a full year of breastfeeding, they're used to it and really don't care when or how you feed Sam so long as he's not screaming. They fall right back into their conversation as they lay in between you and Joel in bed.

For being as old as they are, the girls never miss an opportunity to crawl into bed with you and Joel like they're little kids again. You love it, especially since you didn't get to make those memories when the girls were little and press kisses to their foreheads whenever you feel like it. Joel observes the organized chaos quietly, snapping candid photos of you four every once in a while and relishing in the slow morning with his family.

You finish your breakfast and open the cards from the girls and even one that Sam scribbled in. Ellie gives you a beautiful drawing of one of the pictures she took in the hospital after Sam was born, and Sarah writes a heartfelt message in your card that makes you cry. Sam, ever the cuddly boy, rests his head under your chin once he's done eating and sighs contentedly, making you feel like your heart could burst. Joel catches it and smiles at you over the kid's heads.

At some point, Daisy comes crashing in and gets Sam all riled up and wanting to play. Ellie throws Sam over her shoulder and leaves the room with Daisy trailing closely behind, ready to run around the backyard like her life depends on it, and Sarah grabs the now empty tray to take it back downstairs. "We'll be down in just a second, okay?" Joel calls after them.

"No funny business with our mom!" Ellie yells, making you choke on your laughter, and Joel's jaw drops.

"She's my wife!"

"Yeah, but she's my mom!"

"She's got a point," you chime in, and Joel rolls his eyes.

"Would y'all just go play or somethin'?" Joel says, and you can hear their laughter even after they close the door behind them. He huffs as he turns toward you, but you're still laughing at the whole encounter. He melts at the sight of the smile on your face and leans forward to kiss you. "Hi," he says against your lips.

"Hi," you say back, resting a hand on his chest and cuddling into his warmth. "Thank you for my breakfast."

"'M glad it wasn't a complete disaster."

"The coffee definitely helped."

"Yeah, I figured it would," he breathes. "It's a miracle Ellie didn't burn down the house."

"She's learning." You say, and he nods, but the scarred look on his face tells you everything you need to know. You glance over his shoulder to get a better look at the flowers he brought you and smile when you recognize the petals. It's a bouquet of the kids' birth flowers. Granted, their birth flowers are pretty easy to remember considering how similar they all are. Sarah was born in July, making hers a waterlily, and Ellie and Sam were both born in May, making theirs a lily. There are lots of little filler flowers like Baby's Breath and some pretty ferns, but the lilies really stand out. Thank God you don't have cats. Joel catches you looking at them and chuckles.

"The florist thought I was fuckin' with her when I asked for that many lilies. Had to explain my whole idea to her." He says, and you laugh.

"They're beautiful," you say. "But you really didn't have to do anything."

"I wanted to. You deserve to be celebrated," he says like you just said the most incredulous thing to him. "Plus, this is your first Mother's Day with Sammy. I wanted to make it special." You're about to argue that, technically, Sammy was there last Mother's Day, you were just pregnant, but you stop at the love-stricken look on his face. Who are you to argue when he's staring at you like that? You kiss him again.

"Thank you." You mumble, and he smiles.

"You haven't even gotten your big present yet."

"Joel-"

"Let me spoil you, please. You deserve it, and not just because you pushed Sam's big ass head out but because of how good of a mom you are to the girls." He cuts you off, and you sigh. He's not wrong, but still, motherhood doesn't feel like something to be spoiled over. It feels like something you just do, and hope everyone gets through life with the least amount of trauma. Even if you said this to Joel, he would argue and probably go on a long tangent about how important you are to the kids, and you'd probably cry. Stupid Libra, you think. Always making me emotional.

Before either of you can say anything else, he pulls a little box from his pocket and hands it to you. It's not dissimilar to the box your engagement ring hid in for months, and for a second, you think about joking that you're already married. But when you open it, a stunning cluster of gems gleams back at you. A ruby and two emeralds shining against a gold band to represent your three kids in order of their births. "I thought it'd be nice to have a reminder of them when you go back to work," Joel says, and you smile. How is he so fucking thoughtful? Carefully, you take the ring out of the box to look at it a little closer. The kid's initials are engraved inside the band as a little secret for you, but something near the gemstones catches your eye.

"What's this?" You ask, pointing to the empty spot near Sam's birthstone.

"Oh, I asked the guy to leave a space, just in case."

"In case what?" You know the answer. You just want to hear him say it. He blushes and fiddles with his wedding ring.

"In case we decide to have another baby." He says, and you smile. Sam will be one next week, flying through milestones like it's nothing. Sarah is in grad school, doing amazing things, and Ellie is getting ready to finish up her last few semesters of undergrad. Everyone's growing up too fast, and you've both been caught by the other looking at old pictures of the kids. Still, you haven't formally discussed the idea of having another baby until right now. You look down and turn the ring so the morning sun can hit the stones at different points before meeting Joel's eyes again.

"Another baby, huh?" You ask.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world if there was another Miller walkin' around?"

"We may never sleep again," you say. "But no, I don't think it'd be a bad thing. I think it'd be pretty cool."

"Yeah?" He asks, and you nod, giddy smiles overtaking you two. You probably look crazy, but you can't care about it when your mind is running fast with images of Sam holding a baby, being a big brother, and teaching them things. Joel hovers over you, his chest pressing against yours, and you slide your hand into his hair. "You're serious?" He whispers.

"Yeah. Three was never my favorite number anyways." You shrug like you're talking about apples instead of humans, and he laughs.

"Well, alright," he says. "Let's have another baby." Hearing the words out loud makes you giggle, but the sound is cut short when he kisses you. It's tender and sweet until it's not, his teeth grazing your bottom lip and swiping the pain away with his tongue. Your hand finds its way up Joel's shirt, your fingertips tracing the hard lines of muscle formed over years of playing sold-out shows. He's barely ducked his head to kiss down your neck and chest when a door slams from downstairs, and you hear the girls shouting about something.

"Dad! Sam took off his diaper, and Daisy won't drop it!" Ellie yells, and Joel groans into your skin.

"Just a minute!"

"Now!" Ellie and Sarah scream at the same time. The sound of the faucet running, Sam screeching with laughter, and the girls yelling at Daisy fill the previously peaceful house, and Joel gives you a look.

"It's all you, Dad." You say, and he sighs.

"Why me?"

"Because it's Mother's Day."

"That," he starts but can't come up with an argument. "Is true," he kisses you again before standing up and walking to the door. With a hand on the knob, he turns back around and points at you. "Don't go anywhere."

"Wouldn't dream of it, cowboy."

#one for the money two for the show #rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader #rockstar!joel #one for the money two for the show request #joel miller the last of us #joel miller au #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #the last of us au #tlou au #joel miller

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vidjausers-fable · 4 months

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Pen Pals(Veneer X OC)Chapter 1

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Oh my god, I fell in love with Veneer and Velvet the moment I heard their silly little quotes and songs. I also have fun drawing them!? Anyway, this story is completely for fun, though it’s been a while since I’ve last written a fanfiction. Nothing is beta read in this chapter, so be kind if pointing out mistakes. Below is something I drew specifically for this fiction (though obviously it was inspired by the Barbie and Ken meme)

Also located on Wattpad and AO3. Chapter 2 and 3 are already located there, but soon will be here as well.

Once they had been arrested, Veneer and Velvet were booked and thrown into prison immediately. Well, it was more of a correctional facility if anything. A place where they wanted to prepare young adults who had made stupid mistakes for the outside world. Velvet didn’t take the change well but Veneer made no complaints, believing that it was the right thing to do because of the crimes they had committed. All those Trolls they had hurt…It weighed on him more than it did his sister. Velvet received a harsher sentence compared to her brother. Veneer’s was smaller because his heartfelt confession helped save the Trolls from his sister and expose their scam right away.

However, the two shared a cell in the correctional facility due to a bit of a crowding issue. Their rooms were split in two, one side for Veneer and the other for Velvet. It wasn’t the ideal living situation, but Velvet was the only one complaining about it.

The siblings looked completely different than what they used to. With no access to makeup in the facility, their faces were blank and deprived of any makeup and creams, and both adored the orange jumpsuits that read “Mount Rageous Correctional Facility” on the back. Velvet complained about her looks and image on the daily, as if it had not already been diminished.

Veneer sat at his desk with one of the books checked out from the Library, trying to somehow read and drown out the voice of his sister whining in the background. It was hard to do both at the same time so he closed the book with a loud sigh, “What is it this time, Vel?” he asked and spun around in his chair to look at his sister.

Velvet was half laying on the bed, her knees hanging over the edge. She threw her hands up and around dramatically as she spoke, “This isn’t fair! They took away another hour of my rec time from me just because I wanted an extra five minutes to eat. Didn’t I tell them I’m a slow eater?” She kicked her feet around as if she were a child having a tantrum.

Veneer leaned against his palm, unimpressed. As always. “And how did you ask for this extra five minutes?”

His sister glared. Did he Really ask her that as if she had done something wrong? “I asked, like a normal person! DUH!” she retorted sarcastically, throwing her hands up.

Veneer rolled his eyes. He seriously doubted that, but he wouldn’t say that out loud. “Maybe…just maybe Vel, you should ask a bit nicer,” he suggested and added before she could interrupt, “Unfortunately, the people here don’t like to deal with our attitudes.”

“Me? An attitude! As if! This place is worse than a shoe store with no branding,” she groaned. “And a restaurant without lobster.”

Veneer gave up talking to his sister and turned back toward his desk. There was no use arguing with Velvet. She was an entitled brat. She always tried to get the last word in, and it was impossible to point out her mistakes, or her flaws. In her eyes, she was flawless and never did wrong, and only did right. He’d dealt with that entitled attitude his whole life, and that attitude was the reason that he was in the correctional facility right now. It was honestly pathetic, but there was nothing that he could do about it except not give in to her tantrums and ignore them when they arose. Of course, it was easier said than done. She practically threw a rich snobby princess tantrum every day. “Why don’t you back me up anymore, like you used to?” Velvet abruptly sneered. Veneer could already see her expression without turning back around.

“Veneer, don’t ignore me.”

Over time, Veneer had found ways to stand up for himself. It was easier when they weren’t next to each other, but also because he was over her and her dramatic antics.

“Because.” Veneer closed the book he was trying to read, “It’s your fault we got into this whole situation in the first place.” He had to resist the urge to turn around and throw the book directly at her head.

“You didn’t exactly stop me when I kidnapped the Troll.”

“Because I couldn’t Velvet!” He argued, finally turning to her, “You took the Troll without even telling me at first. You put him in a diamond perfume bottle without a word. I knew it was suspicious when I suddenly caught you singing one day, or remotely have any talent. I bet if I didn’t walk in on you in your room that day with the Troll, that you would have kept all of that stolen talent yourself and left me at home with our parents, which by the way, I CARE about the fact that they disowned us. They get death threats because we scammed everyone, and can’t practice their dentistry anymore. They sold their business to pay off our debts, and you think they hate us? I know you hated them, but do you honestly think that they deserved all of that?” The entire ramble left him in a single mouthful it felt, leaving his sister appalled. He had so much to say to her that his words tumbled out almost all at once.

Velvet gasped, her jaw wide open and a hand over her heart, as if he tried to strike it. “They deserved it, Veneer, for the way they treated us growing up! They were nobodies and didn’t give us anything.”

“How did they treat us, Vel?! They literally did nothing wrong our entire lives! We had everything we wanted! You got a car for your sixteenth birthday and you pawned it off to buy a stupid golden ring! You don’t even have it anymore, you threw it down the drain when we became total frauds and got more money, which you used to buy worthless junk. Our parents are saints compared to how you talk about them.”

“Are you saying this is all my fault?”

“It is, Vel. It’s your fault we’re in here because of you. And I won’t change my mind about that.” He turned his back to her once again. Ever since they had been arrested, it had been nothing but anger between the siblings, bubbling over the tea kettle. Veneer swore that his steam was running out fast around her.

“It’s your fault too! You used the Troll as much as I did!”

Veneer ignored her.

“Veneer, you can’t throw all the blame at me!”

Veneer ignored her again, at least until he heard her stand up and stomp toward him. Right as he flipped around, she grabbed the front of his orange jumpsuit and began to shake him. She bared her teeth in anger at him, shaking him until his neck popped, “You can’t throw all the blame on me, Veneer! That’s just not fair. You used the Trolls just as much as me, so you’re not a perfect saint. Neither were our parents. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?!”

Metal clanged on metal and the siblings turned around to face the door of the cell. One of the Correctional Guards stood at the door, his baton against the cell bars, clinging back and forth until he had their attention. He glared at the two, though mostly at Velvet—the universal trouble maker. “Behave yourself Velvet, and stop arguing. That or I can extend your banishment from the rec room to the whole week. You wouldn’t want that would you?”

Velvet, still holding onto her brother’s shirt, glared at the officer, debating in her head if this was still worth it. If fighting her brother was worth the only freedom that they got in that joint. The two shared a long eye contact battle before she gave in, letting her brother go after shoving him back into the chair, and returned to her bed. “Whatever,” she snapped before rolling onto her side with her back facing the two.

Veneer adjusted his shirt before looking at the guard, a bit frazzled and his heart racing. Even she got to him sometimes. “Whew…” Saved by the guard.

The guard watched Velvet and when he felt as though she was calm enough, looked to Veneer, the one he really wanted to talk to. He took out his keys from his side pocket and the clanging of the metal made the two perk up. “Veneer, your counselor wants to see you now.”

Velvet immediately interrupted, sitting up, “What about mine? Doesn’t she want to see me?”

“She would, if you would stop destroying her office at every appointment.” He stopped fiddling with the keys and glared at the sister, waiting for her to settle down again. He looked to Veneer and waited for him to approach the bars, as part of the protocol for entering and leaving the cells.

“What for?” Veneer asked, approaching the cell door. “It’s not time for my appointment, is it? I don’t think it would be…” He sounded panicked.

The guard opened the door. Veneer was required to step out and press his back to the wall with his arms out and palms faced down. Veneer was a low threat so only one guard was needed, though at some point Velvet needed four. He quickly locked the door because as expected, Velvet threw herself against the door and grabbed the bars in rage and growled. She even reached down to try and swipe the keys as they were shoved back into a secure pocket. The guard scoffed in her face and turned to Veneer, patting him down. The guard took his shoulder and pulled him in front of him, letting him walk where he could see him.

Patting Veneer’s shoulder, he chuckled, “We really need to get you your own cell, buddy boy. Your sister gives me an ulcer everytime I open her cage. She’s like a dog who’s had everything handed to him, but still darts out the damn door whenever it opens.”

Veneer chuckled nervously, “Yeah…Uh, do you know why my counselor wants to see me? I didn’t do anything bad, did I?” He tried not to panic or ruminate like he used to. Besides, nothing he did was as bad as his sister…Though he honestly still felt as though he was a kid again, being sent to the principal's office, just multiplied by ten and with more consequences.

“I dunno, they don’t tell me anything. She didn’t seem mad, if that makes you feel any better.”

“I think it does.”

Veneer fidgeted his hands on the walk to his counselor’s office, guided by the guard. The guard opened the door and only shut it once Veneer sat across from his counselor. His counselor was a middle-aged blonde Mount Rageous person. She was prim and proper, and despite her strict posture and formalities of speech, she was a caring woman with bright blonde hair and honey amber eyes. Her office space matched the same atmosphere of her person. Everything was neatly arranged. There was a funky splash of red paint on the wall, pictures of cute animals under cheesy motivational quotes. There were also nick nacks scattered across the room. One of them was one of those solar powered bobble heads dancing along to no beat, sitting across from Veneer with a playful catty smile.

Linda greeted him with a warm smile. Veneer was still getting used to having someone like Linda to talk to. She always listened and never interrupted him, like his sister did.

“Dr. Graham…Uh, why am I here?” he asked and the emotions immediately flooded in, trapped within from where he had been dealing with his sister all day. He sunk down into his chair, trying to hide, “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

Linda gasped and reached across the table. She knew that Veneer wasn’t a touchy-feely person, so she touched the desk right in front of him instead. “No, no, no, dear! Actually, I have something exciting to share with you.” She waited for Veneer to slide back up into his chair and sit properly.

“What…is it?” Veneer asked hesitantly. He expectedly leaned forward.

Linda bounced, her own excitement showing as she pulled out a folder from her file cabinet. Everything was so perfectly organized that it took no time for her to find anything. “Since our system runs on good behavior, and you’ve been on your best behavior—might I say even better than those who have been here for years—we decided to give you a huge reward. Now, we don’t just give these away to every patient here!” Her hand was on a document, which she pushed across the desk then flipped it so it faced him.

Before him was a blank tan file cabinet folder.

Veneer’s eyebrow raised. “What’s in that?”

“You won’t know until you open it. Go on!” She pulled her hands back and clapped as Veneer reached for the folder. He picked it up and opened it to the first page. He read it and frowned.

Before he could get words out, Linda cheered and clapped her hands some more, “It’s our Pen Pal Program! We like to give these out to our top most behaved patients here. We were quite surprised to see how well you turned out, and how quick and well mannered you were, so don’t take this reward lightly!” She said and took the document back, flipping through the pages, explaining every single one of them until Veneer’s eyes couldn’t keep up with his brain.

“Wait, wait…So I earned this?” he asked and put his hands on the papers, taking them when Linda let go of them. “What do I do with this? How does it work?”

“It’s easy!” Linda began to explain, “You fill out these forms and I scan and put it into the system. After a bit of Beep Booping on the keyboard, the system finds a pen pal that will be suitable for you! The system is surprisingly 95 percent accurate. When a Pen Pal is assigned to you, you receive their first letter and then write a response to them. After that, you basically send letters back and forth to each other. It’s very old school and the only part that technically plays a role is to keep your documents up to hand and sort out who your Pen Pal is!”

Veneer was distracted by the exaggerated hand gestures Linda made as she talked. He shrugged it off and began to flip through the papers, looking at them carefully to make a decision. Having someone new and different to talk to sounded…different.

“If you fill this out right now while I still have you in my office, I should get everything uploaded and submitted within a couple hours.” Her fingers clacked loudly against the keyboard. Then she looked to Veneer and gave him one of her trusting, and warm smiles. “Is that something you’re interested in, Veneer?”

After looking through the last of the papers, Veneer took a second to think it over in his head. It would be nice to have conversations with someone from the outside world, considering he no longer had his parents. For once, he wouldn’t have a conversation centered around how did you get here? How did you get busted? Best of all, he could have someone to communicate with that wasn’t his sister. That was the icing on the cake. That’s what stood out to him the most.

Placing the papers back down on the desk, he looked to Linda with a determined expression. He held out a hand to her, brows knitting together. “Pen, please.”

“That’s it! YAY!” Linda took out a pen from the pen box that was organized by type of pen, colors, and probably even ink levels. Veneer took the pen and began to read everything meticulously and filled out blanks while he glanced over the paper. Linda was quiet, but played calming and relaxing music that she knew Veneer liked to help him focus.

The paperwork didn’t take long, and he finished it in less than thirty minutes. “Can you look it over and make sure I didn’t forget anything?” he asked, sounding timid as he handed the papers over.

Linda took the papers and flicked through the pages at lightning speed. A smile crossed her lips. “It’s perfect, I’ll get everything ready for you and you should get your Pen Pal within a week or two.” She looked at the watch on her wrist. “Woo, look at the time. You have to get back to the cell for quiet time. Your favorite time!” She clasped her hands together. “Veneer, I’m so proud of the growth you’ve gone through these past months. You must have been eager for change before you walked through our doors.”

Veneer blushed at the compliments and rubbed the back of his neck. She wasn’t necessarily wrong. “I’m not used to all these compliments…I don’t think I deserve all this praise.”

Linda shook her head and placed her hand back on Veneer’s spot on the desk, giving him a soft and understanding smile. “Just because your sister made you fight for affections, and do terrible things, doesn’t mean you’re less deserving of love. Remember what we talked about, okay?” She leaned back in her chair. “Also, Veneer?”

“Yeah?”

“I received your report for transferring rooms and approved it,” she answered, watching as Veneer became brighter every second. “We just have to wait for a room to become available, alright? You’re next on the list, I promise.” She nodded her head.

Veneer was disappointed knowing that he had to wait a bit longer, but nonetheless was happy that there was at least one person fighting for him. He nodded his head, determined before standing. “Thank you, Dr. Graham. For everything.” He felt appreciative of the woman, who had gone out of his way to help him become a better person.

A different guard stood outside when Veneer came out of the room, and nodded to the male. Walking in front of him again, he walked all the way back to his room. He felt an anxious pit in his stomach, knowing his sister was there waiting for him and already heard her voice hounding him to tell her everything he discussed with Linda, as she always did. And he didn’t want to do that. Sure enough, his sister was waiting for him with her hands on the bars, and once again the guards had to fight simply to keep Velvet within her cell. It was the same thing everyday, and maybe this Pen Pal program would help change things.

Veneer was tired of this life.

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