#no but why does this sound like something Ed would say :P

[carrymelikeimcute]

Izzy's the perfect height to wrap his arms around Stede and kiss him on the shoulder, and I just think that's neat.

[c0smoshit]

Hello fellow Cloud Strife freak 🫡

(Yes it’s the same star_sworn from ao3 lol)

If you’re feeling in the mood for it in your last week before school, I was hoping to request a nsfw fem reader/Cloud fic where he is possessive/jealous, and he spanks reader: a LOT. Both before sex (with extensive foreplay, lots of dirty talk, maybe oral for him?) and during sex. Just spanking with hands please, and not super hard spanks either, I'm very vanilla lol. It's not about hurting her, it's more a possessive thing for Cloud (and an ass thing lol!). But reader is SUPER into it. I'm not looking for any hardcore dom/sub or anything, just stuff a committed couple would do (some soft dom vibes, like in Mind Cloud/ed).

Maybe it’s the first time he does it and they both realize how much they both like it, or maybe they’ve come home from a party where the guys were checking out his girl and he is feeling possessive/frustrated. I leave it to you if you want to take this request!

I look forward to the filth. Let's give this ass man something to do with his hands… 😉

Also best of luck with school starting!!

I LOVE THIS omg

Thanks for this delicious request love 😻♡♡

Jealousy ミ★

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/fem!reader

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ smut!, p in v, spanking, few hints of dacryphilia, bjs, sexy hour Cloud ;), not proofread!

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ I'm baack! I hope u guys missed me hehe

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 2.321

He was closer to you this night, walking right beside you as he guided you to your appartment, his hand brushing over yours as the dark path consumed your vision.

He was quiet too, way more than usual. His eyes didn't seem as if they were trying to search your own ones like they would always do.

Maybe he was stressed out?

This week has been a long one and you could see it on his eyes, he was tired. As time grew older, you had managed to read his enigmatic emotions quite well, so you thought that maybe he just needed to rest for tonight.

But your theory was quickly proven wrong as you entered your home, ready to wave him goodbye for the night.

. . .

Before you could even turn around, his chest had enveloped your back, pushing you further into your appartment until your hands met the wall.

His husky breathing hit your ear, a shockwave of goosebumps trickled your skin.

Why was he that needy all of the sudden??

Your mind circled around lots of different questions but the harsh sound of the door closing made you jump.

You didn't dare to open your mouth, not yet. You could feel his hands on your waist, but they didn't caress you like he always would, like when he touched you for the first time.

You internally cracked a small smile at the memory, he was just as nervous and fidgety as you were.

The moonlight encased both of your bodies as he took off your clothes for the first time, making an absolute mess of himself when he finally got to the act.

But those gentle and somewhat shy touches were far lost inside his guts somewhere, instead, they were replaced with fierce and strong movements.

You turned around slowly, you could feel yourself getting aroused by this sudden role he was playing. And when you stared at those almost hollow eyes, you saw passion, lust and hunger all mixed up together in a ballad of desesperation.

His lips devoured yours not even a second after.

Your eyes were tight shut, savouring the sweet moment he was offering you. Your lips tried to move slowly, trying to enjoy this new facade, but he wouldn't let you.

His tongue was already inside your mouth when you felt his fingertips lower themselves down your body.

You knew he was an ass guy, it was absolutely cristal clear.

He would always grab your ass, brushing it off saying that it was an "accident". Pushing his hips into yours from behind whenever you couldn't reach for something, always walking right behind you whenever you two where with the group.

However, you didn't expect he liked... spanking.

It started off slow, giving you little taps as he grabbed and squeezed your butt. He pushed further into you, almost as if he wanted to break the wall behind you.

The kisses soon turned sloppy, soaking up both of your lips before he trailed them further down, and you had to bite your lip in order to not let any sounds yet.

His hair trickled your flushed cheek, hands quickly grabbing it as his kisses turned into bites, sucking your soft skin.

The crown of your hair hit the cold wall behind you, mouth agape as you let him sneak a hand behind your back, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest as the other one caressed your hip.

Ready to finally use your voice tonight, you eventually opted not to. He had just became so... primal for you, you didn't dare to even make a question.

However, you wished this blissful moment lasted longer.

"Oop!"

A cut out yelp emerged from your mouth as his hands took ahold of your legs, lifting you up easily into the air.

He wrapped your legs around his hips, your crotch resting just above his belly button and, simultaneously, your arms embraced his neck for support.

You moved up and down thanks to his heavy steps and, trying to get payback from earlier, you started pecking his neck. Starting off gently, kissing and giving butterfly kisses into his jugular.

You noticed he became clumsier, almost tripping over as you sucked a hickie. Your kisses got wetter, hotter and your hand started to caress the back of his hair.

You giggled at his clumsy steps but as soon as you were placed on top of your chilly kitchen counter and saw his serious face once again, you quieted down.

His hands gripped your thighs as if they were his sword, his head coming down to rest on your neck once again to give you little pecks, weirdly more tenderly than the ones he had given you before.

But you pulled his mouth off you briefly.

"What's up with yo-"

"Who was he"

His eyes were finally looking at yours after a long while.

"What? What are you talki-"

"Who was that guy"

Your hands now rested on his shoulder blades, feeling the hard touch of metal bellow your right hand.

Frowning your brows, you tried to think about what guy was he talking about.

. . .

You smelled the aura and it smelt musky.

The first scent you picked out first was a strong breeze of sudden whisky, the wet and fermented barley filling up your nose.

Then you smelt a recognizable, stronge cologne floating around your head now. And when you lifted up your head, you saw him.

A mature, bearded man.

He was wearing a long black coat, some glasses keeping your curious eyes from staring at his own ones. You stayed there for a second, he looked oddly familar.

But before you could figure out who was that man, you came back to Earth, remembering that you were winding down after a long day in Seventh Heaven.

You grabbed your drink, resting for a while on your seat until your drink was halfway done.

But before you could walk away from that husky cloud, a large hand grabbed your shoulder, making you face the misterious man.

Your eyes lingered first on his fierce brown eyes, looking at his mature skin, you saw a scar on his left cheek that time had tried to heal, trying to match his skin colour.

You saw his lips move, but you had to re-think your answer before opening your own mouth.

"I saw you back there"

Okay.

You hadn't expected that phrase.

Where could he had seen you anyway? Was he following you?

"I like what you guys are doing for the Planet"

What?

You knew what you were doing was benefitial for the Planet, but Shinra worked so hard into putting your group as a terrorist one and actually killing way more people from the explosions than expected.

But why did he knew?

"Those Shinra guys deserve worse"

It came out as a mumble and you couldn't help but look at him with a puzzled expresion, accepting the friendly pats he gave on your shoulder, thanking you.

That was sweet. . .?

. . .

"Ohh, that man back there?"

He stopped his movements, almost as if letting you know that you were right.

"I saw him to-"

Now you were the one that cut him off, not boring to hide the sly smirk on your face.

"Wait, are you jealous?"

Suddenly his cheeks reddened, but before he could see your grin he lowered his head down into your neck once again.

Ready to make another snicker, you were interruped by his palm now resting on your panties, making you gasp.

His index finger moved up and down and you took matter into your own hands too, quite literally.

He hissed as your bold hand groped him too, trying to lure him into letting you give him some pleasure too.

"Let me make you feel good"

Your heated breathing sent cold shivers down his spine and, as your teeth lightly bit his ear, he lost it.

"So pretty"

You would always praise him, and it would always make him feel sort of bad, he would keep his own thoughts about how gorgerous you were to himself.

But he meant all of them.

His shirt and SOLDIER armour was now discared on the cold floor, your icy hands caressing his abs before finally getting down on your knees.

His absolutely favourite view in the whole Planet.

He helped you take off his belt, letting your overly-excited fingers do the rest of the work. And when you finally got face to face with him, he placed a reassuring hand on your head.

You started off with slow strokes, kitten-kissing his angry red tip. Sensually trailling lower and lower on his shaft just to tease him and rake higher and higher again.

Until he finally had enough, gripping quite hardly your hair.

"Get on with it"

He actually scared himself off at first with his demanding tone, his desesperation seemingly clear on his blushed cheeks as he stared down at you. And you complied, enjoying the choked out gasp you managed to pull out of his throat when you suddenly introduced him halfway into your wet cavern.

Lust filled eyes staring down at the mess you were making on his cock, gripping hardly the counter behind him as he tried not to buck his hips into your mouth.

Not only your sweet face was all in display for him to see, but your sweet, sweet ass was there too.

As dirty as it sounded inside his head

Your hands held his thighs hardly too, enjoying every sound you were being able to pull from him as you took him deeper and deeper. He was big, and it was almost funny how he didn't actually believe you could struggle to take him at first.

But it sure ignited something inside him

He throbbed when he saw you gag on him, help him reach his end with the help of your hand, your glossy eyes staring up at him.

He needed to feel you.

But not like this

So he took your face off him, smashing desesperately his lips against yours once again, feeling a fuzzy tingle inside him as he heavily rested on your lower stomach now.

His hands held your face ridiculously gently compared from how he had gripped your hair just a few seconds ago, walking you backwards until you met the counter once again.

"turn around"

His voice was deeper now, staring daggers into your eyes as he waited for you to obediently follow his lead. And you did.

You bent yourself down, ready to whatever he was going to give you this night right there and then.

And when you felt him pull your skirt up, you pushed your hips back into his hands, making him pull down your panties even slower than he intended to. Almost as if he was getting payback from before.

When they pooled through your ankles, his hand softly massaged your right cheek, feeding off your whines.

"Please"

However, he kept going.

No matter how hard he was, how hardly he wanted to fill you up, to feel you entirely around him once again. He wanted to show you how you were his, how he loved and desired you.

So, without thinking, the harsh sound of a "slap!" filled your ears and ceirtantly, your butt.

You couldn't help yourself but let out a pathetic moan, his hand now rubbing the red spot he had left. He had heard you, and it was the same sound you would let out whenever he was fingering you.

Did you actually like it?

So once he had tested the waters, he set his sights on slipping the nastiest mewls from your mouth tonight.

"Mmph- Cloud"

There it was, his name filling his ears the best way it could've had. So he started teasing your slit with his shaft, more slapping sounds filling up the small appartment as you almost rested your whole chest on the counter now.

You picked out the sound of plastic, something opening up. Which you later would guess was a condom.

But before you could make contact with the cold tile, his left arm surrounded your stomach, pulling you up into him, lips mere centimeters away from your ear.

"I'm going inside now, is that okay?"

How sweet

But sweet wasn't an adjective that matched his dirty and husky tone. His hand was now toying with your front, exposing you to the darkness as he squeezed your breasts now.

So you nodded, feeling suddenly too shy to speak to him.

"Too embarrassed to use your voice now huh?"

And you opened it, but it was useless to his tip now proding your entrance, slowly taking him further and further. Holding the arm that was embracing you, you rolled your head into his shoulder, silently whimpering at the warm feeling.

"Got you, almost there"

His reassuring tone he used with no one really never failed to make your knees feel like jelly.

But his adorable act lasted as quick as you managed to cum with his skilled fingers.

He started to move, and he was clearly desesperate. Setting off a crude, fast pace as you were now fully bent over, his hands gripping your hips. His middle finger was now circling quickly your clit, pulling off the nastiest moans he had wished for.

You imagined his glistening, lean form behind you, making you take all of him, using your tight walls in search for his climax. His hair all ruffled up, a bead of sweat trailing down into his v-line, and the sudden spanks your ass would recieve.

That was your last straw, mewling out his name as you soaked his cock.

And by the way you gripped him even harder, which he thought was impossible now, spasming around him violently.

He was done.

So he followed close behind, painting the plastic walls white, imagining it was you who was taking his load instead.

[splatooshy]

what kind of music/artists/bands do you think the scooby gang + the originals would listen to in the early seasons?

OH OH OH

well we know from canon that even without humanity, damon can & will listen to taylor swift without complaint. even though he’s perfectly capable of compelling a music change.

& he listens to depeche mode so he’s automatically cool.

i think the salvatores have very wide tastes, but not much overlap. stefan loves bon jovi to an unhealthy degree, and would probably have been a BIG beach boys fan back in the day. he’s totally over it now though, those records in his cupboard are purely decorative!! damon would love ABBA, head over heels reminds him of katherine & he uses it to outsource his emotions in his no humanity era. stefan tolerates it for lexi’s sake (damon thinks it’s unfortunate that he and lexi have similar music taste. it’s probably the only thing he likes about her). also the cure.

i think stefan cries to bon iver’s ‘roslyn’.

both stefan and damon would be into stevie nicks & florence + the machine & paramore & david bowie (damon in fact knew him rather well back in the seventies…) but in totally different ways. damon loves anthems & grooves, discordant sounds and triplet beats, while stefan digs a good beat & steady rhythm. with a fabulous guitar riff ofc.

bonnie is also a big paramore girly. also hozier. i think she and damon bond over similar music tastes.

caroline listens to taylor swift (fearless is her fav, red & 1989 are 2&3), one direction, jonas brothers, miley, britney etc. she bullies politely asks jeremy to let her use his tech stuff to make her own mixes. she also has a hot pink boombox that she takes to every cheer practice. it’s covered in stickers that won’t come off no matter how hard she tries. yes, vampire strength has been applied.

elena spent the three months between the crash & stefan blasting dean lewis in her bedroom. hozier, bon jovi to seem cool to stefan, janis joplin, probably some british pop like dexys midnight runners, ed sheeran, bastille. but that’s a secret she’ll take to her grave.

jeremy listens to 21 pilots, mcr, p!atd, bleachers (later seasons tho. don’t think they existed til 2015 or something), the neighbourhood, arctic monkeys, fallout boy, etc. probably listens to sheppard on repeat. geronimo just really speaks to him, okay?! absolutely does not copy damon’s taste in music, that’s just a coincidence!!! he’s also the source of elena’s secret love for british pop.

matt listens to elevator music. nah he just plays whatever’s on the radio. my truck is my girlfriend & my dog has fleas kind of country music? idk.

tyler has all of those mix cds like sofresh, each 00s / 90s genre, really does not care what he listens to as long as he can nod his head along.

alaric listens to 80s rock in a dad way & whatever damon plays because damon has dj rights everywhere & will push his way onto the aux.

not really in the gang but katherine listens to male manipulator music. and female manipulator music like ethel cain, fiona apple, etc.

the originals?

klaus listens to smooth jazz. and instrumental covers. he’ll text stefan a link to the lamest love song ever (instrumental) with the caption ‘this is our song’.

kol also listens to smooth jazz, but in a cool way. as well as 00s pop. he and rebekah fight over who discovered what song first. he would absolutely LOVE musicals. has the glee & hamilton soundtracks on his little ipod. BOY BANDS OMG kol has a backstreet boys poster confirmed. also 90s-00s hip hop / rap / pop hybrids. especially nelly furtado.

OH OH THE SHREK SOUNDTRACK. that’s his jam fr fr.

rebekah is a speak now girly through and through. ‘innocent’ is literally her song. she’s just so taylor swift. she would LOVE suki waterhouse, but that’s not for another few years. OH WAIT REBEKAH’S CANONICALLY ALIVE IN 2024. she absolutely listens to chappell roan and it DEFINITELY does not make her think of hayley, why would you say that???

elijah listens to eight hour long symphonies and concertas, but won’t complain if one of the others is hogging the aux. he will not be so childish as to dagger his siblings over music disputes, (klaus), or break their arms (rebekah), thank you very much. he only demands control of the music when damon’s trying to seduce him (succeeding), because elijah knows how to woo & be wooed in return. that includes the romantic playlist. also, damon has a very annoying habit of singing along & playing air guitar when the bridge hits just right, usually whilst there is a cock in his ass.

finn likes renaissance fair music. he considers it to be contemporary, as he was daggered during this period.

[natequarter]

potential flaws of an english spelling reform:

the biggest problem is dialects. not only does english have a shit ton of dialects, it has multiple prestige dialects. this isn't necessarily a problem for reforming inconsistent consonants, but rather for those goddamn vowels

think about all those splits and mergers! mary-marry-merry. trap-bath. strut-foot. etc. you fundamentally cannot reform english without making it either a) dialectical b) wrong for 90%+ of speakers or c) a dysfunctional mess, which is pointless because english is already that

specific sound changes like yod coalescence and rhotic (or tapped) r can pose a big problem as well. even though we don't pronounce r in all dialects, we generally note it down: warm, car, etc. how do you reform spelling for both rhotic and non-rhotic accents? and yod coalescence. nobody ever brings this up, because rhotic r affects american english (and some british accents, though some have different r sounds entirely) and yod coalescence affects british english, and most youtubers making spelling reforms are american in my experience, but many english people don't pronounce, say, due/new/tune like americans do: /j/ comes in so that due is a homophone of jew in british english, which it may not be in american english. if you reform new to be spelt as noo, then that fails to reflect the pronunciation of new as /njuː/. but i digress

frankly, a lot of spelling reforms are just ugly. please stop

some parts of english do currently reflect the etymology of words. it's a lot harder to see the relationship between oblige and obligation if one is spelt eblàij and the other is spelt obligàshen

people really like getting rid of the letter c and using k/q instead. why? what do k and q do that c can't? get rid of the digraph qu, get rid of k, use c to represent /k/ and use s for /s/ and z for /z/. k and q are rubbish letters

bringing back or finding new letters isn't necessarily useful. yeah, sure, you can revive þ, but is there a need? we already have p/b/d, which all look very similar. adding the thorn in is just confusing, and the digraph th doesn't need a reform. it would be cool to differentiate voiceless and voiced dental fricatives, but a) ð is the superior letter, and b) th literally works fine. nobody is complaining about this except conlangers! th, ch, and sh are all valid digraphs; all you need to do to fix them is eliminate tch, make th/ch/sh have consistent sound values (e.g. spell chandelier as shandelier), and the problem is solved

overall, there is often a desire to eliminate or introduce letters perceived as 'useful' or 'useless,' but the letters people want to introduce might be confusing to people who are dyslexic or don't recognise it, or the letter people want to remove is... literally fine, and could easily be solved with an accent or two

nobody ever accounts for stress patterns. english has very inconsistent stress patterns, but we could fix this by sticking an accent over stressed letters like in spanish. let's say circumflexes, because circumflexes are cool. attâck. rêquisite. insîstent. ôrange. refûte. obviously these are random examples, but you can easily clear up the issue of stress in this way

some spellings reflect grammar, not pronunciation. this is a bit like the problem of etymology: we spell the endings -ing and -ed to make them regular. -ed isn't necessarily pronounced as it's spelt; it usually ends up sounding more like a /t/ or a /d/. but we spell it like that to make constructing the past tense easier. of course, you could always reform it to -t or -d. then you could have words like laughd, or screamd. but people don't tend to think about that

people need to be able to learn your system! any orthography which becomes transformed or, god forbid, a different script, is going to be impossible to implement. we have too much literature in our current spelling. it would be expensive and unpopular. any change must be something within our limits

ultimately, i think the only plausible spelling reforms are of english's consonants/stress patterns. vowels are just too variable, but we could probably standardise some of those godforsaken silent consonants, irregular stress patterns, or inconsistently spelt consonants without fracturing england as we know it or just scaring the shit out of our audience. reform isn't impossible. it just isn't operable in the way many people want.

[doubledyke]

One thing I dislike in season 5 is how the characters are often dumbed down just to fit, for the plot sake. The kids, in particular, seem to reach a point where Eddy can literally come up with any lie or scam (the forever-summer scam, the mole mutants, the booster shot day, the egghead Ed, a new kid Carl) and the kids will immediately buy completely without a question (even Kevin of all people). In earlier seasons, as gullible as the kids could be, they still kept a skepticism degree and were quicker to recognize something as a poorly manufactured scam (at least some of them).

So, of course, all the characters sound so out-of-character in season 5 (except maybe the Kankers)...

yeah i agree to some extent. i'm always hesitant to criticize s5 cuz like, who tf am i? i don't know much about the behind the scenes, etc., etc.. but i agree that it is very different in a lot of ways that stand out. if you view the differences in characterization as intentional, it's kind of interesting.

eddy is absolutely off the rails and is at his most volatile in s5. even his laugh is more villainous lmao. i liked kevin lordi's comment that he seems depressed as hell later on in the series. makes sense to me, i mean we see how he struggles in school, and how he gets treated there. you can't just leave when things get bad, either. i gotta say, i feel like they ramped up the eddy torture p*rn in s5. i might be biased though.

edd is also utterly unhinged. viewing the gradual changes in him as intentional (aka me over analyzing), i see that he's reached PEAK neuroticism. the guy is about to snap and eventually does in bps. frankly, i find him unbearable but it's all character growth in my mind. school is a source of stress for him as well, but for different reasons. also, he and eddy are a lot nastier to each other in this season.

with ed, i'm not really sure what angle to come at it from. if i stick by what i said before, then his over the top oafishness is likely a result of hardcore dissociating. maybe he ALSO really hates school and so his brain just shuts down. literally. you could also theorize that he took one too many bumps on the head (just kidding).

realistically though i think he's the easiest source of comedic relief for what is, after all, a kids' show. perhaps it became a bit of a crutch while they created some really great character driven episodes.

like fistful of ed, too smart for his own ed, cleanliness is next to edness, and, pick an ed. lots of edd focused episodes in s5.

to your specific point, i guess i see what you mean. but i've always wondered why the kids would fall for anything eddy does after like s2 lmao. s5 isn't the first time we learn that the cul-de-sac kids aren't very bright. they do all have moments of skepticism, and yes, especially kevin. in see no ed, he's shown to be borderline paranoid about the eds which is goddamn hilarious to me. but most of the time they'll all be skeptical at first, yet still end up taking the bait and acting shocked.

(by the way: kevin deserved sooooo much worse than what happened in this won't hurt an ed - which was ultimately nothing. eddy ended up being the one getting hurt at the end of the episode.

kevin is ruthless and flat out cruel to eddy. he's the definition of a bully. he's shown to be pretty normal toward everyone else in the neighborhood, including ed and edd when they interact one on one. with eddy, he has this abnormal and unhealthy hatred for the kid. it's really funny.)

in pick an ed, edd says its obvious that 'carl' is just eddy in disguise. eddy looks worried until ed falls for it. to me that implies that eddy thinks the kids are dumb as a bag of hammers. and he was right!

my thing with eddy is, don't hate the player, hate the game. it's hard for me to feel bad for someone who gets "scammed" or pranked over and over. if kevin wanted to, he could be the hero of the cul-de-sac and put an end to the scams by simply sharing his over-abundance of jawbreakers with the eds. but he's a dick, so he doesn't. the kids are also to blame not just for being such easy marks, but for never leaving jawbreakers for the eds when kevin shares with them. eddy's biggest mistake was waiting around long enough after getting paid for them to catch on.

summary: i used to also view s5 as a "dip in quality" until i saw a post where someone argued that the changes could and should be viewed as character growth/development over flanderization. both things can be true! and there are plenty of REALLY good, fun episodes and moments in the season.

[lotusthewriter]

Don't Forget

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist (2003)

Rating: G

Relationships: Alphonse & Edward

Characters: Alphonse Elric, Edward Elric

Summary: It's a special date for the Elrics.

Word count: 717

AO3

A/N: Technically for October 3rd, but it's FMA 2003's 20th anniversary today, so I guess it still counts.

This takes place after Conqueror of Shamballa.

DO NOT SHIP THE ELRIC BROTHERS. P/roship DNI.

--

Al shouldn’t be feeling nervous, really. He and Ed have known each other since forever. Still, Al can’t help shaking a little, mostly as he leaves everything ready.

Either way, Alphonse makes his way to Edward’s door, hoping he’s not going to bother him.

He takes a deep breath and knocks.

“Brother?” He calls.

“Oh, come in!”

Al slowly opens the door, finding Ed’s desk filled with papers – all from the rocket science course.

“Sorry, are you busy?” Al asks.

“No, no, don’t worry about it.” Ed takes off his reading glasses – and Al knows Ed would hate him if he ever told him that Ed looks like their father. “What’s up?”

Al blinks, distracting himself from the thought.

Ed suddenly starts smelling something.

“Did you bake something?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, uh… yeah, I got the recipe from Ms. Gracia.”

“Oh,” Ed smiles, “that’s great, Al.”

The younger Elric shouldn’t be this nervous.

“I-I made it for you!” Al blurts out.

Ed softens. “For me? Why?”

It does hurt a little to hear him sound so surprised. Like Ed doesn’t deserve good things.

“Come on, let me just show you.” Al offers him a hand. His brother takes it, confused, so he lets Al pull him out of the chair and towards the dining table.

There lies a cherry pie fresh from the oven… and the handmade card Al made. He’s confident that the pie is good, but as for the latter… He hasn’t really drawn in ages, and has only picked it up again in times of boredom.

Much to his surprise, Ed seems more awestruck by the card than the pie. He takes it carefully in his hands.

Al rubs the back of his own neck, unsure what to do.

Dear Brother,

I know today is not a good date. I know it meant that we lost what we once had. But I wanted to celebrate that you’re still here with me. I would never trade it for anything in the world.

Thank you for always looking out for me. I love you.

Al

The cover itself is, well, a sketch of Ed smiling genuinely, even if sadly. Something Al wishes he could see more often – just his brother being happy.

When Al looks back…

“... Oh no, Brother! I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he apologizes, hating himself for ever thinking this stupid card could make this day easier. “I’m so sorry.”

Ed appears to only then realize that he’s indeed crying. He touches his wet face in shock, as if he hasn’t cried in years .

“I just- I wanted…” Al doesn’t know what to say.

Suddenly, he hears a laugh.

“Oh, Al.”

Then, he finds himself in his brother’s arms. Al freezes, not expecting the reaction. Ed hugs him tightly, burying his face in the other’s shoulder, seeking Al’s warmth. It sometimes surprises Al, remembering he can actually feel his brother’s touch now. That Al is finally here, back as a human being.

It didn’t happen as they wanted it to… but just the fact Al gets to hug Ed again is more than enough.

“I love you, too,” Ed whispers. “I love you so much.”

Al can’t help it. His eyes are filled with water.

“Thank you for being here,” Edward adds

Alphonse smiles. “Of course, Brother.”

Ed doesn’t let go for a while… not that Al is complaining. He does whine when his brother decides to kiss his cheek multiple times, though.

“I truly have one talented little brother,” Ed compliments. “An artist AND a baker?”

Al rolls his eyes. “Come on, you’re exaggerating.”

“No way, this is beautiful. I’m keeping this forever. And I’m putting all your art on the fridge.”

He laughs. “Ugh, Brother!”

Ed snorts, ruffling his darker blond hair.

With this, they finally decide to eat the pie together. Ed finds it a masterpiece, of course. Al can’t help blushing; his brother can be so embarrassing.

Since today is technically Ed’s day off, the Elric brothers decide to go out in town. After greeting their friends, they head out to the park. At one point, Ed wraps an arm around Al and pulls him close. Al smiles and leans against him.

On this day, they lost everything.

But today, they have each other.

They’re home.

[dragonmistressivy]

So that girl i mentioned the other day that definitely clocked me as being suicidal sat at our table for dinner. She looked like she was forcing herself to eat also she has skipped breakfast and probably lunch (but i can’t say for sure) everyday. She was doing stuff at dinner that to someone with a ed makes it very obvious she has one. Also during the whole dinner she was writting something on a piece of paper then crossed it all out and started again. I only saw one part of the thing she was writing and it said “god does not” and i could not tell what the last word was but i think it started with a capital p or r. Also she is very obviously heavily depressed and started crying a bit while writing whatever she was writing after she crossed out the original thing and balled up the paper and started as just starring directly at one of the knives. I think she grabbed one of them when she thought no one was looking. She was probably wrting like a suicide note or something. I would have tried to say something to her to try and comfort her but my mom was right at that table and she doesn’t know i have a ed, sh, or am suicidal. I didn’t eat dinner. Also i purposely tried to send some sort of sign to the girl to try to say that i understand but i don’t think she caught it. If she does commit i am not mentioning anything about how I noticed something odd. She probably won’t be able to given we all have roommates and she has 3 of them.(unfortunately all spoiled rich girls who she seems to hate) also that knife would take a lot of force to use to cut but you never know. When the teacher came bu to tell everyone when room chevk was she basically implied she was going back to her room to do something becaue her roommates will all be out. I mean her roommates are some of the girls who have gotten drunk at least twice now and have definitely broken the rules so they will definitely be leaving her alone. I can saw she doesn’t cut on her arms or legs because she wears sleeveless dresses also her swimsuit doesn’t hide any of her arms or legs but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t cut elsewhere. I mean if i had to hide my cuts i would probably cut in an area hidden by clothes. She is definitely suicidal and probably hiding it but it is obvious to me that she has a ed and is heavily depressed. Even my mom and grandma immediately realized she was very depressed. Also it would explain exactly why she brought up how so many people die by suicide before my age when she was in our group a few days ago. She seems lonely and friendless and very quiet. I didn’t even know i had her in one of my classes. She is just sticking with random groups like a lost puppy because she seems to have no one. And given the way she has mentioned her mother(i overheard one of her conversations) she doesn’t sound like a good person and probably puts tons of exceptions on her to be perfect at every single thing. Let’s hope she has a better life or somehow her suffering ends in one way or another either. I want to be her friend but i have no idea how to approach her especially with my mom or any adult around because that would end poorly and that’s a understatement.

[lafcadiosadventures]

Madame Putiphar Readalong. Book Two, Chapter XXVI, Part One.:

Including:

Architecture terms!

sexy mandolin playing and foot kissing

Borel’s version of Like a Virgin!

a great idea for art analysis and sadly ends on Orientalism

endless cultural references, -i didn't cover them all, I didn't even mention Borromini my beloved- and endless asterixes and parenthesis on my behalf :P

A Mermaid on a Dolphin's Back. Illustrated by John Gilbert Engraved by the Dalziel Brothers.

Let’s get the worst out of the way shall we? We have had various chapters sans big interventions by the narrator, here we have a pretty big, essaistic one. The questions Pétrus tackles in it is a fascinating one. Why is official art of a certain time period like it is, and what does it tell us about the ruling classes?  (more concretely, why is Rococo art influenced by """The Orient""")

Like Rousseau* before him, Borel doesn't separate the artform from the power it represents (something we invariably see brought up in pop culture/divulgation discussions on Asian, Egyptian, or Precolumbine art and architecture) but we rarely see this same scrutiny applied to Greek temples, or European Palaces (yes, I have a specific and relatively recent documentary in mind where the presenter was wanking hard at the enlightened beauties of ancient Greece and early modern Europe. Then we got to the Mexica chapter,,,, the focus was obviously put on Human Sacrifice-someone was in a bad need of reading Montaigne’s des cannibales, there WAS human sacrifice with religious and political aims in Europe at the time- the presenter argued that the intrinsic, racialized thirst for blood of the ancient Mexica lived on in Mexico today, and as an example our very bright presenter showed an audience enjoying.... a corrida.......... a Spanish import.)

*[I cannot find the original Rousseau quote, only how Kant paraphrases it in Critique of Judgement: “If someone asks me if I find the castle before my eyes beautiful I can surely reply: (...) like Rousseau, declaim(ing) against the vanity of the great ones who misspend the people’s sweat in such superfluous things. (...)”]

So, the problem at hand -how art voices the intentions/ideologies of those in power-, is interesting and legitimate. However, the complex, hard to pin down Borelesian Narrator, reaches some pretty fallacious and biased conclusions (what is this narrator like? Is it like Diderot’s stand in, the “je” in Rameau’s Nephew? a Diderot stand in, but also evidently portrayed by Denis as a classist, bland bonpensant (for example when the Nephew, who is usually the venal, cynical, sexist and more importantly, of a lower class character, says something “correct”, the character labelled as “je” condescends to him: “you don’t know how right you are!” the nephew bitterly replies, “yeah, you Philosophers think we (aka, the people) are correct only by accident!” Diderot makes the narrating je look and sound like him, and share some of his positive qualities, but it also voices flaws Diderot saw in himself, becoming a kind of self parody, and parody of the figure of the Philosopher as a whole. Borel’s narrator is contradictory, some of his views change from chapter to chapter, and his emphasis on chastity and religion for example do not seem consistent with views expressed elsewhere-> @sainteverge brought up the tale Medianoche, where the heroine is a Diderot reader while her father is a repressive religious fanatic, and the portrayal of Dillon and the dark priest in La caverne d''Arcueils hardly seem like creatures a catholic fanatic would come up with...)

So, what are the causes of orientalism in 1700’s France? The French aristocracy was as soft and decadent, and as autocratic as “the orientals”, that’s what made them interested in their art (the main problem here is that Borel does not distinguish between the diverse cultures and social strata that form the pot-pourri the Europeans melded into a monolith they call(ed) the Orient. Borel doesn’t have in mind the arts of the nomads of the Mongolian steppes for example. He has a very specific artstyle in mind, and his thesis wouldn’t have been that insane if he had not implied there is an “oriental” nature, like he wouldn’t speak of an "European" nature since he percieves the nations conforming europe as pretty diverse surely.... and if he had specified which strata of the cultures he had in mind he’s speaking of. If he had said, the autocrats here enjoyed the art of the autocrats over there, because it is an art form that both utilizes slave force to be crafted and expresses that way of government, which is the core of the idea he seems to be proposing, I could have agreed with him.) He does this instead:

“The limpness, the pleasures, the incest, the polygamy, the pederasty**, the joy, the no longer chivalrous but rather Moorish gallantry; the slavery and finally the lack of care for slavery, had assimilated two populations that are so different in other points. Up to Pharaoh who had his favourite sultana, his Parc-aux-Cerfs, his lettres-de-cachet, just as Mustapha had his harem and his cords. The Christian dogma which had rehabilitated Aesop was destroyed. Hercules and Venus, incarnating physical strength and beauty, were the only objects of worship. No more melancholy, no more chastity, no more modesty, no more meditation, no more reverie; nothing great, deep, sad, sublime! Eternal contemplation of God’s splendour, ridiculous! Instead, Muhammad and his joy, Muhammad and his sensuality, Muhammad and his houris. Indeed pure Islam reigned: in point of fact, under these wigs and baskets one was as muslim as under a turban and a basquine.”

(tr. @sainteverge )

The islamophobia is patent, the presentation of Christian culture (another monolith) as superior too. Is this supposed to be ironic? I cannot tell.

** (as everyone reading this surely knows, the term pederasty in the french 19th c included sexual attraction between men of the same age) I think it’s important to note that Borel figures in the index of pederasts of the French police -an index of people being surveiled for being sodomites, who curiously where also “loud and turbulent” republicans (as michael blix defines it, thanks cam for sharing that.)

After this thoroughly unpleasant paragraph, Borel returns to the events of the story. He focuses on the effect the legitimately intoxicating and seductive view of Pompadour playing her mandolin has on Patrick. The ambiance has the desired effect on Patrick’s still innocent soul, overcome with doubt and admiration, he plunges to Pompadour’s feet and kisses her soles. Her eyes fall on him from the heights of her nonchalance.

Then we get what Like a Virgin would have sounded like if Borel had written it:

“A suave feeling, of which she had lost the memory and which for that reason seemed as new to her as the first pulse of love in a young girl’s heart, was moistening her decrepit soul. Her body, worn out by debauchery, could usually not even be titillated by pleasure anymore, and yet it swooned before the chaste touch of a mouth placed on her foot.”

 (tr. By sainteverge)

(also I was exited to see Borel mentioning Philomela, but sadly not linked to Deborah as I had supposed in an earlier chapter, with the nightingale song, but curiously to Pompadour.... it’s an interesting choice since Philomela is clearly a victim and an avenging angel, none of which Pompadour is portrayed as, but it’s Patrick the innocent who calls her that, not the narrator, and he is refering to the singing)

Putiphar praises Patrick’s lyricism comparing him with gallant as Richelieu and poetic Dorat (writer of light, pleasing comedies, favoured by the mundanes in the VXIII th c), Patrick chooses more transgressive authors to correct her, “no, I’m actually like Young and Bayard” ->the latter a playright satirist of bourgeois mores. Putiphar enjoys conventional and conformist art, Patrick fights those choices with more transgressive authors. It’s like a miniature, low key battle of Hernani.

What follows is a key line about profit, money and the arts and voicing one’s opinions. Patrick obviously can earn very little by how he speaks. He is pretty fascinating here, definitely under Putiphar’s spell when he walks in, but he won’t flatter her like that other time or compromise his opinions when speaking to her... and that upsets her, there’s no way Patrick’s way of speaking will ever be lucrative for him, or help him ascend in court etc. He’s a terrible arriviste, Patrick replies he never had any intention of making his speech and feelings lucrative. That is such a slap in the face for Putiphar’s life credo...she’s kind of stunned that someone can think in ways so archaic (perhaps embodying what Borel mentioned above as Chivalry, Patrick is Quixotic) but more importantly, so radically disinterested, he wishes to transit the world speaking his mind and being true to who he is at all times. Putiphar changes the subject -because the conversation is turning too serious, and she has other projects in mind- and asks Patrick for a song from his land (Pat replies with a biblical citation) finally accepts to sing for her but he is afraid she won’t be able to appreciate it as Pompadour’s taste is too accustomed to Opera. In return Patrick asks her to finish her mandolin song (about Isis choosing between an blond or a brown haired man) When she finishes, she expresses the song couldn't be anymore perfect to which Pat, incapable of flattery at the present time,  replies the song is “bland, mannered”, has “rather silly lyrics”(So Pomps is like, well if your taste is so refined, show me the best song from the best poet from your country, after telling him how if someone heard him his candid opinions would worsen matters for him -love of the arts in court and in Pompadour’s worldview is nothing more than political posturing and statements, you have to like what is in, and that’s that) Pompadour starts flirting more aggressively with Patrick, who jokingly refuses her. She starts writhing sexily, showing her legs and remarking on how hot she is, even while wearing a very light robe. Patrick' is's attitude is cold, but his eyes betray him and Putiphar notices it. Patrick is in a very enlightenment man way, having a struggle within him between passion and reason, appetite and duty. His senses responded to her invitations, yet his mind begged him to refuse them. (it’s an interesting change from their first meeting, where Patrick seemed to be implied to be giving her more than just a few kisses in her hands) Patrick is also thinking of Pompadour’s body in a patriarchal sexist way, he recovers his wits when remembering, not only Deborah, but Deborah as someone who was a virgin before him, Deborah as the standard of Virginity, Pompadour’s body is beautiful and enticing, but when he remembers that perhaps there wasn’t a single virgin spot in it for him to pose his lips, an iron curtain fell between him and her and only then he thought of Deborah, one who was only his. Gross, etc.

Yet Patrick is afraid he’ll succumb so he hilariously gets up and starts looking at Putiphar’s paintings and boiseries. She calls out from the sacrificial altar, begging him to return claiming he owes her an irish song. So Patrick returns and plays what seems like the longest, least sexy irish balad he could think of. Yet Putiphar is in ecstasy while listening, looks at him both like a mother and a lover proud of her choice. When the song is (finally) over Pompadour straight up poses Patrick’s hands on her heaving breasts. (in a quasi “frenetic” way)(since the chapter touched the arts in a romantic/classicist way, the word frenetic seems loaded) Pompadour cannot praise him in any better way than telling him he sounds like a neapolitan. Patrick of course corrects her telling her that the Irish have always been great at song. She insults the English language thinking that would please him, she does this shrewdly, since “all loves are brothers and that a soul which trembles with enthusiasm is usually an easy ship to catch.” (and Borel takes the chance to praise Gaelic -and Spanish comparing the sonorities of the two languages as majestic- and to complain about how English is advancing in Ireland while Gaelic declines) She asks Patrick to translate his song, is it a love song? She coyly asks? Is it about a cold lover who disdains an unrequited woman?

Is Putiphar right? Is Pat such an easy prey? Will he bite the bait? Find out.... soon XD

( @sainteverge @counterwiddershins )

[shadowredfeline]

Four in One Post

For Buggy and Huggy in Gundam Mech attire.

Looks really cool. I bet Buggy sure is practicing his aiming skills anytime he fights the war. And for Huggy, she's holding a kickity kickball, this game will make things easier for the game, especially if someone is going to play a soccer round in a mech suit. Kinda like using a vehicle in Rocket league.

For Bryan's On this Day Post

I remember seeing one of those Video Nows when I was a kid. And I even saw one at a Goodwill store once. Normally the original Video Now does it in Black and White, but with Video Now XP, they have it in Color. But normally I do not own a Video Now like Original and XP. But I do remember as a kid using a GBA Video cartridge which lets you watch shows on your GBA. My sister and I used one like we got two Video Cartridges. We have the Strawberry Shortcake one which only has 2 episodes from the first season like Meet Strawberry Shortcake and Springtime in Strawberry Land. And we got a Cartoon Network collection Volume One which only has 4 episodes from each Cartoon, like Dexter's Lab: Dexter's Rival, Ed Edd n Eddy: Oath to an Ed, Billy and Mandy in Billy and the Bully, and a Johnny Bravo episode which I forgot the name of the episode, it's where Johnny goes to the beach and gets in love with a woman until he gets connected to a Shark and starts surfing to win the girl until the girl got back with the men he broke up with. And Johnny is now connected with the Shark which that episode is kinda silly. But Game Boy Advance Video brought me so many memories. Even though the sound quality is a little blurry but I can still listen to the sound fine.

For my P-Pal's on this Day Post

I remember her. Back when I used to watch Happy Tree Friends, I saw Lumpy looking at a poster where it shows a contest of New Characters that are gonna be in the videos. And Lammy won so they got her with Mr. Pickles. But I wasn't a fan of the Pickle because he acts out of control murdering someone for no reason. That's why they made the episode called Bit of a Pickle.

And finally a Response to my P-Pal

Yeah I thought these Pizza Parlors were really good. Especially Peter Piper's. And I like your choice that you would like Bacon as toppings because I like Bacon on my pizza as well as for Ham and Sausages and pepperoni on my Pizza. It's just that I'm a big meat person when it comes to having pizza. And I bet it would be nice if we could split the halves of the pizza. Saying I get four and you get four. Otherwise we can have our OCs learn a little bit of fractions and even if Maxwell wants Pizza as well.

[manias-wordcount]

Reader fem has been a friend of Spike for a long time and always asks him to stop smoking because it will hurt him and will end up killing him, but he doesn't take it seriously and says that everyone will die one day, so she asks if he would like to see her slowly killing herself so that's what he was doing.please

In Between Jobs (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼! 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘆! 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼, 𝗶 𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗦𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗝𝗼𝗵𝗻 𝗖𝗵𝗼'𝘀 𝗦𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗲!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

In between jobs and when the money isn’t so tight, the Bebop takes the chance to stock up on supplies. Before you, it was usually Jet who did all the shopping around. When Jet didn’t want to, Spike would get forced to under the threat of not being fed. Of course, then you come along, and you’re always so eager to help.  ‘It’s the least I can do,’  you tell the rest of the crew with an easygoing smile, Ein cuddled up in your arms with a leash on, ready to walk around the planet with you and excitedly murmuring about something she wants to see nearby. Only then does Spike voluntarily go out to help supply the ship. After all, someone has to keep an eye on a pretty little thing like you.

It’s on these trips where you two can be most honest. A lot of the time during jobs, the crew will have you tucked away on the Bebop under the guise of protecting Ed while she works or making sure Ein doesn’t run out and mess things up. No one mentions the way you hate seeing others hurt. Even if it's inevitable in this line of work.

Still, he doesn’t quite know why he still does it. You’re his biggest motivator to quit. But apathy tends to grip at this one part of him and asks  why does it matter?  So now, he can’t stop. Or, at least he doesn’t stop. Not even when the door opened and shut quietly behind him. Not even when he knew it was you.

“Spike…” Your voice was demure as you walked up to him. A soft whisper. A silent plea. It’s amazing that he didn’t buckle so quickly to give into you. His only saving grace was the way he was facing away from you. And although the feeling of your hands coming to rest on the back of his suit jacket made him tense up, ultimately he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Instead, he kept looking forward. Out into the rainy city. And took another drag from his cigarette.

Stillness settles in between you two. There’s hardly anyone outside. A few people rushed under tiny umbrellas, just trying to make it through. They’re even fewer people who are people-watching like him. Standing under shops, just out of the rain, as if waiting for the sun to make its grand debut. Sure, it may be peaceful outside. But inside his head, it’s a warzone.

And it’s all because of you.

He can feel your fingers twist and tug at his clothes- a habit he noticed you only did around him when you’re feeling restless or worried. He was the only one you trusted enough to be this vulnerable with. Even Jet hasn’t seen you whenever you were like this. That is why he  hates  that he was the cause of this. He absolutely  hates  it. Right now, he wants nothing more than to turn around and wrap you in his arms and not let go. Not let you see what he just can’t stop from doing.

And your body nearly collapses into his, he thinks himself a broken man with barely any patience left for his own actions.

“Spike…” You try again, but you’re still not able to find all the right things you want to say. Your head is resting against his back, and you sound so defeated. It’s like he’s the only thing left to keep you standing. And even then, he’s your enemy. That’s why he needs you gone, so he doesn’t cause you any more damage. Any more heartbreak. “Spike you know-”

“Why don’t you get back inside.” He speaks, pulling the cigarette from his mouth to talk. The sudden and deep rumble of his voice is enough to make you gasp. His words don’t hold any room for argument. It’s a question, it’s a command. Even still, you don’t listen. Your fingers just tug a little harder at his clothes, and you breathe a little quieter as if to say you aren’t there. It won’t change the way you haunt him in his every waking moment. The way you haunt him in his every mistake. So he tries again, this time with a little more reason. “You’ll get sick if you’re out here too long. It’s cold.”

In a while, it’s not a lie. Nor is it a bad excuse to get you to go back inside where you’re safer from all things he ruins. You’ve always been the softest edition to the Bebop. Sensitive. Compassionate.  Kind . You weren’t a cowboy, and he hated it when you tried to be. You were just a pretty face, easily sick, and could never hold a gun to someone’s head with a bullet in the chamber. And he’d rather die than ever see you in that position where you had no choice to shoot. So why?

Why couldn’t you let him ruin himself in peace?

“Spike those things are going to kill you one day.” You murmur at him, and he can’t help but chuckle. He can picture your reaction- your eyebrows pulled together as you frown at him, wondering how he can be so insensitive to his own health. You start tugging at his clothes again, and in retaliation, he takes another drag, hoping you have enough sense to give up on him. “Spike! I’m serious! You could die!”

But you don’t. Because you don’t live on the Bebop because you’re a good shot or a merciless cowboy who’ll stop at nothing to get your money. You’re on the Bebop because you’re  stubborn,  and you  care . And maybe that will be the end of him.

“Everybody dies, sweetheart.” He dismisses you easily, but there’s a twang in his chest that always comes when he talks like this to you. It’s unfeeling. It’s not like  you,  and part of him feels the need to repent just for being an example that the world isn’t as soft or as pure-hearted as you. Instead, he just grips his little cancer stick tighter between his fingers and hopes you’ll go back to holding Ein and making sure Ed stops running around the store. “Everyone.”

What’s left of his heart shatters when you gasp at his harshness.

“How…how can you just say that-” You began, but he cuts you off with the full intention of finishing what he started.

“It’s the truth.” He’s brutally honest now because it might just be the only way to protect you from him. There’s a load of bad he brought into this world. And absolutely none of it should ever come close to enough to touch a hair on your precious head. He knows he’s not a good man. He’s not a worthy man either. There are so many things that could pull you away from him. So many lies and so many more truths. He just wants it to be on his own terms. He rather make you cry because he smokes than because he kills. “We all die someday. Whatever happens, happ--”

“What if…what if it were me?”

His blood runs cold and suddenly the only thing he can see is the color red.

“ What ?” His voice is clipped as his hands tighten into fists. Everything around him fades away until his mind is completely tunneled on you. There’s no denying what you just implied. But he wants you to say it again. Say it without the rain as your cover. Say it without your touch as his biggest distraction. Say it without hesitation.

Because if you could, he might not be able to stop himself from doing something drastic.

“What if…” The way you trail off, unsure of yourself, is the only thing keeping him from losing his cool. You’re back to holding onto his jacket as if the idea of what you’re about to say is terrifying to you. And  that’s good , he thinks to himself. Because Spike is a selfish man and he knows if he has to hear you say it again- if he has to hear you  entertain  it again, he wants you to be scared of it. So scared that you can barely think of it. Because maybe that fear will keep you alive if he’s ever not around to protect you. “What if it were me instead…slowly…slowly…”

The word just can’t leave your lips. They just fall into the air- unspoken, yet heard. Silence fills the air between the two of you again and Spike tries to ignore your trembling body in exchange for taking one last,  long  drag and dropping the half-smoked cigarette onto the floor. He’s still wordless as he picks up his leg and digs his heel into it, effectively snuffing out. When he’s done, he picks up his foot and gives it one last look. It’s nothing special. Just another piece of a habit he can’t break off. But it means something to you. So maybe one day, it’ll mean something to him too.

The decision to finally turn around and face you is a slow one. He practically dreads it more than anything else. But it alls melts away when you’re finally,  perfectly  in his view. Your hands are tucked at your own sides, tugging at your clothes while you peer up at him. WIth your quivering lip and big, round,  softer than soft  look in your eyes, Spike starts thinking dumb thoughts. Dumb, stupid thoughts Like how he wished he was a cloud so he could whisk you away to someplace nice, all safe and sound. Or how he wished he was the sun just so he could get rid of this gloomy mood and make you feel warm again.

Or how he could have given you a better life than cowboys and gunfights if he was never a dog for the Syndicate.

His arms spread out, and you waste no time leaping into them. The force of your hug is enough to send him stumbling back a few inches, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. So he’ll just stand there. He’s let the back of his head and neck get soaked in the rain if it means you’ll have something to cling to a little longer. And with the way he sees you tuck your head under his chin, he knows you appreciate it too.

“ That’s different .” He finally answers your question in a low voice. You don’t say anything to that. You just sigh and hold onto him as if you’re scared he’ll drop dead right where he stands. And a part of him has always had that fear. Not a fear of death. He couldn’t bear to care about what happened to him. No, the fear of  being the death that breaks you. “You’re different.”

You let out a quiet sound- almost akin to a whimper, and it has Spike thinking dumb, stupid thoughts all over again.

“I’ll quit.” He promises before he can even think things through. He knows his words are going to bite him in the ass one day. And it might even be later today when he starts instinctively reaching for the lighter in his pocket. But all he can think about is the little things he promises you now. If not for a better life, then for a better Spike. “I’ll stop smoking between jobs, I promise you. So just…”

The words die on his tongue, and you pull him impossibly closer, and it takes everything in him not to scoop you up, take you on the Swordfish and fly far, far away from this life. Make he’ll give you Ein since you love the damn mutt so much. And maybe he’ll let Jet and Faye and Ed visit every once in and while too. As long as he can get you away one day. Far away from pain and violence and watching your back, even when you want nothing more than to give up and go to sleep. So he’s glad you’re not a fighter.

In fact, he’s more than glad to be the one that fights for you.

[yikesharringrove]

Egg the Cat

Chapter 3

Read on Ao3

-

Billy had to double-check to make sure he hadn't accidentally followed someone else home from the party.

Because Steve lived in a fucking mansion.

“Jesus Christ .” Billy stared at the house. “You didn’t tell me you’re fucking royalty .” Steve rolled his eyes, leading Billy towards the house.

“Can it. You got the booze?” Billy shook the bottle at him.

Steve looked better. Like maybe he had gotten a bit of a handle on himself.

Billy followed him into the pool of light cast over the porch, the unmistakable scream of a very excited cat sounding from inside.

Steve pushed open the door, bending immediately to scoop up his purring cat, holding her close to him as he went inside.

Billy gave a low whistle as he took off his boots, lining them neatly next to Steve’s shoes.

Steve just climbed the stairs, assumed Billy was following.

Steve’s bedroom was nice enough.

Felt as impersonal as the rest of the gaudy house, but there was a cat tree by the window, and a cat bed Egg ignored in favor of curling up on Steve’s lap as he settled in bed, sitting up against the headboard.

Billy didn’t know what to do with himself.

Last time he was in another boy’s bedroom, very different things were happening.

But then Steve gave him an odd look, eyes flicking to the spot next to himself, and Billy took that as his cue.

“I can’t drink a lot. Gotta be home in three hours.” His dad had a very clear rule about curfew: You miss it, don’t bother coming home.

“This is for me, anyway.” Steve gave him the weakest smile Billy’s ever seen, taking the bottle from Billy’s hand, and taking a long pull.

He grimaced at the taste, gasping for breath.

“That’s fucking rank .”

“Not used to cheap liquor?” Steve swatted at his arm, but took one more pull before passing the bottle to Billy.

Egg was still settled in his lap, and Steve ran long fingers through her dark fur.

“She can always tell when I’m feeling bad. Gets extra snuggly.”

“More snuggly than at the diner?”

“Nah, that was the more. She could tell I had been freaking out looking for her.” Her ear twitched and her tail swished, like she knew they were talking about her. “She’s the smartest cat in the world, I think.” He was quiet for a few moments as Billy took a drink from the bottle. “Took better care ‘a me than Nancy ever did. That’s for damn sure.”

“Sucks that she dumped you like that. All drunk and shit.”

“Isn’t there an expression? Drunk words are sober thoughts? Wish she had gotten drunk a year ago. Woulda saved me a lot of fucking trouble.” Egg perked up, standing to pace on Steve’s lap, curling up again, her chin resting on his tummy. “See? Has a fuckin’ sixth sense for when I’m upset.” She purred, her eyes closing as Steve scratched between her ears, down her back.

“How long have you had her?”

“Like five years? Someone was just, giving her away. Said he didn’t need bad omens, or whatever. ‘Cause she’s a black cat. I think that’s fuckin stupid. She’s brought me nothing but good.” Egg purred again, blinking slowly at Steve, nipping playfully at his fingers.

She really was cute.

Billy had never been much of a cat person, always favored dogs a bit more.

But Egg was so human, the way she tracked their conversation, like she could understand it.

“Man, don’t laugh.” Steve took the bottle from Billy, taking another long pull, shuddering halfway through. “I’m already feelin’ this. Haven’t drunk in so long .”

“Pussy.” Steve huffed a laugh, Egg meowed as his stomach shifted, jostling her head. He let the silence sit for a moment, just watched Steve’s fingers stroke through thick dark fur.

“So, uh, are you like, friends with Tommy?” Steve’s voice was way too measured, his tone far too light and casual.

“Who?”

“Tommy. The guy that was parading you around all night.”

“Oh, uh Karate Kid, guy?”

“Yeah.”

“No. He just kinda started talking at me, told me to do a keg stand. Said the guy that still held the record was a poser.” Steve outright laughed at that.

“Yeah, you broke my record tonight. I’m the poser.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

Billy turned to look at Steve, found him smiling this stupid fond smile at the cat on his lap. The room was dim, only one lamp clicked on, throwing a warm glow around the room.

“Can I ask you what happened? You said you used to be hot shit.”

“Nancy.” Steve’s smile evaporated like a flash. “I used to be a real douchebag. Ruled that fucking school. I mean, it’s not like I liked myself. I could definitely be called a bully, like, which sucks. But, you know. I had friends. I was popular. All that.”

“But she didn’t like that.”

“Nope.” Steve made sure to pop the ‘p’. “It’s not like she blatantly said that, but I could tell. I think that, I think that the changes have been good, like I’m nicer to people now. But I kinda cut off all my friends. Just hang out with her most of the time. And now-” Steve trailed off, taking another swig of shitty tequila. “Guess it’s just me and Eggy.”

“You say that like I’m not sitting right here.” Steve smiled at him, a real one, not the tight ones he’s been using all night.

“You hang out with me, you’re gonna be a fucking laughing stock, new kid.”

“Oh, come on. Have you seen me? I could literally never be a laughing stock. If anything, I'll make you cool again.” Steve just hmmmn ed at Billy, his eyes going a little far away.

“I don’t know if I really, really care about that anymore, if I’m being honest.” He swallowed thickly. “Some major shit went down last year. Like, more than Nancy shit. Kinda put things in perspective, I guess.” Egg had sat up, kneading at Steve’s stomach, making a noise like a little cat alarm.

Egg was so in tune with Steve it was utterly fucking ridiculous. They must be wired directly into one another’s brains.

“What kinda major shit?” Steve was quiet. Egg began walking up him, stepping softly until she settled on his chest, her chin resting on his shoulder, little pink nose tucked into his neck.

“Just like, major shit. Like, like people died kinda major.”

“Damn.”

“Like, I legally can’t talk about it kinda major.” Egg sniffed in his neck.

“What, you get mixed up in some kinda lawsuit or some shit?” Steve just sighed.

“Man, I just said I legally can’t say anything.” But he had a ghost of a smile on his face when he turned to look at Billy. “Can I ask you something?”

“Free country.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Why Hawkins ?”

“You asked me that like, three times yesterday.”

“And you never answered.”

“I said my dad remarried and wanted a-”

“Fresh start, yeah. But you could move one town over and have that. You could stay in the same damn state and do that. Why Hawkins ?”

There was something more behind Steve’s voice, something strained.

Billy just looked back up at the ceiling.

He had to take a breath, talking himself out of actually telling Steve. Telling him how Neil wanted him out of California, where gay bars were only a short drive away. Where Billy could cruise the piers, where a carefully toned you goin’ my way? could lead to a sloppy blowjob in the car.

Hawkins wasn’t necessarily specific, but Neil had wanted a small, God-fearing town. One where he would know if Billy got up to anything unsavory.

“He found a job here,” he said lamely.

Everything in him was screaming to trust Steve. To tell him the truth. Which was just a fuck of a lot. Billy doesn't trust people. He just does not.

He blames Steve.

Blames those soft brown eyes.

“Well, that’s thrilling .” Billy rolled his eyes, smiling a little to himself.

“What were you expecting?”

“Something more exciting. You moved here from California. That’s like, the coolest place ever .”

“I lived in L.A., too.”

“So like, the coolest place in the coolest place.”

“You ever been?” Steve just gave him a dark look.

“Last time I left the state was ten years ago. My parents took me to Chicago.”

“Damn. You’re like, a true hick, then. Only know this little town.”

“That’s me. Pure hick .” He scratched Egg’s back hip. She purred softly. Billy took another long drink, officially calling that his last one. He needed to be sober by the time he went home. Couldn’t be loud and clumsy as he made his way to his room.

He just pressed the bottle into Steve’s hand.

They spent the rest of the time before Billy had to leave just talking.

It was nice, Steve filling him in on the Hawkins drama, told him which gas stations had better candy selections, that the liquor store on the corner of Haven and Burbank didn’t card. He told him that Andrew Conner always had good weed, but it was cheaper to buy from Lisa Kendle.

And the more Steve drank, the more his eyes drooped, the lazier his smiles got, the closer he scoot to Billy.

He was warm, pressed up to Billy’s side, cat still curled on his chest.

He listened with rapt attention as Billy gave him stories about California, about the boardwalk and metal shows, told him stories of his best hookups, told him they were girls.

He was in the middle of one story, switched out the name from Daniel to something more appropriate, when he looked over, found Steve knocked out, mouth hanging open, tequila dangerously close to spilling, cat sleeping soundly on his chest.

It made Billy falter.

He just took in the scene, wanting to remember it.

He moved slowly, tried not to shift the bed too much, and turned out the light in Steve’s bedroom as he left.

[mydekuacademia]

HELLO!!!!! How are you? Congrats for the 150(2) followers!!! You really deserve it 🤗❤️

Ok so...can I have A,B,C,P,U, and Y for Todoroki? Please and thank you!! (Also if that's to much, I'm sorry about that. Just cancel some of them ok?) Have a nice day!!!

Thank you so much!!!

This is also for the other anon that requested Shouto's alphabet. Hope y'all enjoy :)

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

At first, hes not too familiar with the concept of aftercare. He'll do whatever you ask, but he wont really initiate it until hes more familiar with what needs to be done after sex

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner)

On him: his arms. He loves well you fit into them

On you: thiiigghhsss babyyyy. He could spend hours buried between them. Skinny, thick, muscular, he doesnt care. He also loves marking them up

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

Not to hop on the quirk train, but the temp of his cum depends on the type of sex hes having and what mood hes in. Slow, sensual sex: slightly warmer. Quickies or rough sex: slightly cooler

He wants to cum on your thighs or stomach. Hes not a big fan of cumming inside because hes terrified of knocking you up (if you can get pregnant)

D: Dirty Secret

He kind of likes choking, but it makes him feel like endeavor so odds are, hes never going to choke you

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Hes not experienced whatsoever. He had comprehensive sex ed tho (endeavor wants grandchildren), so he knows what the fuck hes doing. If he doesnt know something, hes not shy about asking or looking it up

F: Favorite Position

Anything where he can see your face. Missionary, mating press, cowgirl, etc. He also likes holding you up with your legs around his waist (hes strong, so dont worry about getting dropped)

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

The longer youre in the relationship, the goofier he gets. At first, hes dead serious. Absolutely no joking. After some time tho, he might slip in a little joke or tickle you a bit if he feels like its getting too serious. All in all though, hes pretty serious

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

No half and half pubes, sorry. Hes kinda salt and pepper, red and white mixed

Hes not trimmed or anything at first. It doesn't bother him, so why would he? After your first couple times getting intimate, he starts to trim

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

So intimate, holy shit. He just loves you so much and wants to use this opportunity to really show you since he isnt great with his words. Sex with him is full of slow, gentle caresses and soft kisses. Even when he gets rough, he still makes sure you know how much he loves you

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Once every couple weeks, maybe. Less often if you have sex in that time. Its not a huge thing to him honestly

K: Kink (One or more of their kinks)

This goes without saying, but temperature play for sure. Only gentle heat and cold, never anything that could hurt you

Sensory deprivation - it gives him such a rush that you trust him enough to let him do as he pleases to you without you knowing what's gonna happen next

As i said before, choking. But hes not gonna do that unless he grows a lot

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

If its not a quickie, he almost always wants to use the bed. More comfortable and more space to work with

For quickies, just about damn anywhere yall wont get caught. Closets, bathrooms, empty conference rooms, you name it.

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

When you do something that makes him remember how much he loves you (standing up for him, making him dinner, just existing sometimes) or when hes really frustrated and needs some release (like fromman encounter with endeavor or a failed mission or something)

N: NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No permanent marks, no pain play, no age play

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He is the king of giving oral. He knows the perfect combination of tongue and fingers to have you seeing stars. He'll be buried between your thighs, squeezing and caressing them, and absolutely going to town on you. He doesnt even care if he doesnt get off, this is enough for him

He also appreciates a blow job if hes particularly frustrated or upset. He likes being taken care of sometimes

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Generally, hes right in between. If hes feeling particularly soft, he goes slow and sensual. If hes frustrated or during a quickie, hes 100% fast and rough

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Hes absolutely down for quickies. Probably a third of the sex you two have is made up of quickies

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)  

Hes pretty open to experimentation as long as it isnt one of his turn-offs. Just be aware that if he isnt feeling it, hes cutting it off right away.

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

My god, he has so much stamina it should be illegal. If you let him, he'll go all damn night and maybe another round when you wake up. However, he doesnt usually do that since he knows that much overstimulation can be painful

T: Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He has a vibrator to use on you and a couple silk scarves for your wrists/ankles and to be used as a blindfold, but thats about it. Anything else he might use is made up of random stuff he has. Your underwear can be a gag, his belt can be a handcuff, etc

U: Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He will tease you until you start really whining, but not a ton honestly. He uses teasing to get you in the mood oftentimes. A hand just a tad too low on your back in public, or way too many kisses and hickies on your thighs before getting to the good part

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Not loud, but certainly not quiet. He has no qualms about letting out low moans and choked groans, but he loves hearing your sweet sounds too much to drown you out

W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)

He secretly loves having visible hickies. He doesnt mind the comments and speculation, and it makes him feel like theres always a part of you with him

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Icyhot is fucking hung. Not big enough to really hurt, but defs bigger than average. And its pretty too. One vein running along the bottom, circumcised, tip flushed pink. Perfect.

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not terribly high - hes a pro, he has more to worry about than sex. He can go a good while without sex, but hes absolutely going to make up for lost time

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He oftentimes doesnt fall asleep after sex. He takes his time cleaning you up and giving the best aftercare (after he learns what that entails) then he might turn on a movie and just chill with you. The only time he falls asleep soon after sex is when he goes more than 4 or so rounds

[jamespotterthefirst]

Lovely Bree, how are you doing? Firstly thank you so much for the amazing questions that you sent me for E & P. I loved answering them❤ Sending you a few questions about Ethan and Lilac which you have to answer as them💕

For Both:

1. Imagine you both are rival Detectives assigned to a common case. Who will be the one to solve it first? Or will you both join hands and solve it together?

2. What is the funniest thing your partner has done when they were drunk?

3. Favourite ice cream flavor of your partner?

4. What is a funny habit of your partner that you secretly like?

5. Have you ever done something only and only to annoy your partner?

6. How does your partner react when they are jealous?

For Lilac:

1. If you had to say I love you to Ethan without actually saying the words, how would you do it?

2. What is something that would make Ethan blush immediately?

3. If you were given an option to choose between writing a letter to Ethan once every month or writing him small notes everyday, which one would you choose?

4. What is the sweetest gift he has ever given you?

5. If you had to assign your relationship a fanfiction trope, which one would you choose?

For Ethan:

1. What is something that you started doing after getting into a relationship with Lilac?

2. If you could pick any three places to take her on a date, which ones would you choose? (They can anywhere around the world)

3. You have been asked to put together a care package for Lilac. What things do you put in it?

4. Which hobbies/interests of Lilac do you find weird?

5. If you had to put together a bouquet for Lilac usig any two flowers, which ones would you choose?

Thank you so much for these! I am so happy you liked the Ethan x Pooja ones. And it means so much that you UNO reverse card-ed me! LOVE YOU!

For Both:

1. Imagine you both are rival Detectives assigned to a common case. Who will be the one to solve it first? Or will you both join hands and solve it together?

Lilac: *giddy with excitement*

Ethan: Here we go...

Lilac: First, rival detectives? That would be so hot. Ethan would secretly be in love with me, no doubt about it. He'd walk around his precinct, in a foul mood after a run-in with that insolent Detective Allende. He'd go on rants through gritted teeth about how she thinks she's above procedure and how she fancies herself a rebel--

Ethan: You're having way too much fun with this.

Lilac: --but really he'd be frustrated that he couldn't press me against a wall and kiss me senseless.

Ethan: *doesn't deny it* You're forgetting the original question, love.

Lilac: I'm setting the stage, babe. You being madly in love with me is important to the plot. Okay, so regarding the case... Even though we would each make impressive headway by ourselves, we are each missing a piece the other has. For example, I'd be pretty good about examining the timeline and interviewing suspects and any person of interest.

Ethan: Then, with the information she secures, I would be relentless about acquiring hard evidence that could really lead to a conviction. We would make a stellar team.

Lilac: Once you focused on the case and not on my lips.

Ethan: *with a ghost of a smile* An impossible feat but one I have years of experience trying to achieve.

2. What is the funniest thing your partner has done when they were drunk?

Ethan: My alcohol tolerance is excellent. I don't get drunk.

Lilac: Yes, he does. He might not be a loud, emotional drunk like I am, but his cheeks get flushed the cutest shade of red and his eyes sparkle in the sexiest way. He gets into this highly intellectual and argumentative state of mind, challenging anyone who is nearby to a philosophical debate. The funniest thing he's done while drunk is lecture my friends and I about why do we, as humans, strive for perfection if it is not attainable. It was hot.

Ethan: It was necessary.

Lilac: None of my friends were up for the challenge. It’s difficult to initiate an intellectual debate with Cardi B playing in the background and with tequila shots flowing freely amongst the group.

Ethan: Speaking of non-stop tequila shots, the funniest thing Lilac has done while intoxicated is text me incessantly, telling me how much she missed me and how badly she wished I was next to her.

Lilac: That’s more sweet than it is funny, babe.

Ethan: I was right next to you. I was the one holding you up for balance. 

3. Favourite ice cream flavor of your partner?

Lilac: My husband doesn’t care much for your run-of-the-mill ice cream pint. His favorite flavor is mascarpone with wild berries gelato. He also loves Affogato. Naturally. 

Ethan: Lilac loves most flavors, especially anything with dark chocolate. But even more than ice cream, she loves--

Lilac: Fro-yo

Ethan: -- frozen yogurt. Plain tart with strawberries, blueberries, and granola. 

4. What is a funny habit of your partner that you secretly like?

Ethan: I love the scented candles she’s so fond of having around the house. 

Lilac: I knew it!  My favorite funny habit of his is when he tucks Jenner in at night. He pretends that dog isn’t our fur baby, but Ethan plays the perfect father every day.

Ethan: He’s a pet, Lilac, not a child.

Lilac: He’s a baby and the being you professed to love most in the world.

Ethan: *holding her gaze* Not anymore.

5. Have you ever done something only and only to annoy your partner?

Lilac: Yes! I asked him to take me to Rome for our honeymoon only so I could order an Espresso Romano. 

Ethan: Exactly what I asked you not to do. 

Lilac: You mean what you were rambling about during our first date? Because I’m counting that.

Ethan: Fine. I was far too distracted by the beautiful doctor in front of me. It just slipped out. I never imagined I’d be marrying you one day and taking you on a honeymoon to Rome.

Lilac: But I bet if you knew that much then, you wouldn’t have minded.

Ethan: No, I wouldn’t have. 

6. How does your partner react when they are jealous?

Lilac: He clenches that magnificent jaw of his and speaks in growls. 

Ethan: *shaking his head* She stays really quiet and I can practically see the gears turning in her head. Then, minutes later, she’ll start asking me “causal” questions about the person she’s jealous of. 

Lilac: I have to gather as much intel as possible about this rival of mine.

Ethan: *lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles* There’s no such rivalry, love. No one will ever capture my attention like you have. 

For Lilac:

1. If you had to say I love you to Ethan without actually saying the words, how would you do it?

Lilac: I would hold his gaze as I press my body close to his, raising myself on my tip toes to press a single kiss on his cheek. I’d trace the pad of my thumb along his cheekbone, my other hand at his chest. I do it everyday... Everyday since the attack, when we couldn’t touch each other without plastic in the way. It’s my quiet way of telling him how much I love him and how I’m not going anywhere. 

2. What is something that would make Ethan blush immediately?

Lilac: *laughs* It’s so easy to make him blush for someone so stoic. A sure way is to lean in and whisper anything romantic in his ear. It can be anything really and he’ll turn beet red. It’s so endearing. He will get this little surprised look on his face, as though he can’t believe what’s happening.

Ethan: That’s because I can’t. I am unable to believe my luck that the most beautiful woman on Earth loves me as much as I love her.

*Lilac blushes. Ethan looks satisfied and completely in awe of her.*

3. If you were given an option to choose between writing a letter to Ethan once every month or writing him small notes everyday, which one would you choose?

Lilac: The notes, for sure! In fact, I already write him those almost every morning and ever evening. He even bought a magnetic whiteboard for the refrigerator for me to write those. He insists on taking a picture of them before we erase them. 

4. What is the sweetest gift he has ever given you?

Lilac: He flew my whole family from LA, including my grandma, to celebrate my last birthday in Cape Cod. It was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. 

5. If you had to assign your relationship a fanfiction trope, which one would you choose?

Ethan: What the hell is fanfiction?

Lilac: It’s exactly what it sounds like, babe. It’s pieces of fiction written about fans of a work. For example, people who love Harry Potter will then go and write their own works with these characters. 

Ethan: People do that?

Lilac: Hey, don’t knock it! Some people are so talented and put out excellent works. I used to read HP fanfiction when I was in high school and undergrad.

Ethan: I’m not judging at all. On the contrary, I’m surprised people do this for free. I admire the dedication.

Lilac: Our trope would absolutely be slow burn.

Ethan: ...?

Lilac: It means it took us entirely too long to end up together.

Ethan: Ah. In that case, I agree. 

For Ethan:

1. What is something that you started doing after getting into a relationship with Lilac?

Ethan: Homemade salsa. My wife is very particular about it and will eat most meals with it. She will not accept anything less than homemade and I love her for it. 

2. If you could pick any three places to take her on a date, which ones would you choose? (They can anywhere around the world)

Ethan: She doesn’t know this but, I am taking her to France for the final part of our honeymoon. Our schedules didn’t allow for the extended honeymoon we both wanted, so we split it up into parts. She still thinks it was only two parts, Rome and the Mayan Riviera, but I’m taking her to France next month. She’s always wanted to go to Paris, the countryside, and the French Riviera. 

3. You have been asked to put together a care package for Lilac. What things do you put in it?

Ethan: She told me about the candy her grandmother used to bring her from Mexico. Those would go in there. I’d add essential oils, since she’s fond of those. I’d add her favorite scented lotions and those fuzzy socks she collects. 

4. Which hobbies/interests of Lilac do you find weird?

Ethan: I don’t understand her complicated orders for iced coffee when we go to a coffeeshop. She will give the poor barista a long list of flavors she wants, describe in number of “pumps”. It’s iced coffee! There’s no amount of flavoring that could salvage that atrocity.  

5. If you had to put together a bouquet for Lilac using any two flowers, which ones would you choose?

Ethan: *smiles briefly* I would consider lilacs to tease her. She pretends to hate them because they’re her namesake and people have always assumed she likes them solely for that reason. Now, she likes them because she knows I am fond of them. They remind me of her for obvious reasons but also because they are the earliest flowers to bloom in Spring. They represent renewal, hope for something better to come, and first love. I found all of those things in Lilac. 

But since this bouquet is for her, I would use peonies and sunflowers since they are her favorites. Maybe jasmines since it’s her favorite scent. 

[beelspillowpet]

Hello... Could you do some headcanons of the brothers reacting to MC having an ED? Like... Food restriction and p*rging, and, yeah... All of that... Sorry if this is very weird and/or uncomfortable... I struggle with that and I kinda seek comfort... Thanks

So I’ll be the first to say; you’re perfectly fine in asking for this request. You’re not alone in your fight with eating disorders; I have one as well. I try not to touch on it too much in my own media with my characters and such, but I hope you manage to overcome yours, anon. Learning to eat more (or less) is so important and it’s so hard to try and force ourselves to do it right. Please don’t feel like you’re a burden for this ask, it’s brave to even say it outloud, despite being on anon. You’re brave, you’re strong, and you can overcome this.

MC Has An Eating Disorder

CONTENT WARNING BELOW THE CUT!!!! Eating Disorders | Depressive Themes | Generally triggering - please be careful with reading this one.

PLEASE speak to a professional or call the hotline ( (571) 257-3378 ) if you feel like it’s getting beyond your control. Take CARE of yourselves. I don’t know you personally, but I would be sad if you weren’t able to help yourself, especially with how harsh the world has been for the past year.

Lucifer

He notices you don’t eat much at dinner. Originally suspects it’s because the food palette is far from what humans are used to. I mean, brains? From a dragon? They may be Belphie’s favorite, but you weren’t Belphie, now were you? He decides to try and cook (and have his brothers do the same) much tamer foods.

It doesn’t seem to work at first, with how you barely seem to eat. Sometimes you can feel his eyes on you, so you force yourself to scarf down whatever you can before handing the rest to Beel. He keeps an eye on you closely. He invites you to dinners, brunch, the likes. He’s just trying to see what you will and won’t eat.

It’s amazing how he hadn’t caught on to such an obvious answer yet. What makes him realize it though, is after he’s cleaned up from your lunch with him, he finds you in the bathroom, emptying your stomach. He doesn’t fully understand it still. You’ve been found out to been doing this for a long time; even before you got here to the Devildom.

He suspected you were just a smaller person. Something in him just couldn’t believe you were doing this to yourself. He wanted to know why, but getting an answer out of you didn’t seem like a good idea. Chances are you didn’t know either. He brings it up carefully while you two are alone. He explains why he’s concerned, instead of being roundabout with it, choosing to be direct. He cares about you, not just for Diavolo’s sake. He wants you to be able to take care of yourself when he can’t look after you anymore.

Mammon

Is probably the first to notice that you’re starving yourself, save for Beel. He’s been in the business of being a model for long enough, he’s seen others starve themselves and purge just to look thinner. That’s exactly what he catches you doing one day.

He’s worried. He’s dealt with helping his fellow models out with this sort of thing in the past. Albeit not as sensitive, he always managed to get his point across with others. But you? You were eating fine one day, and then for the next three or four days you barely ate anything at all. It’s like you were punishing yourself.

His approach is similar to Lucifer’s but a little more experienced in his talk. He’s explaining that he’s worried about you, and that you need to get some food in you if you’re gonna be able to do anything. With each bit of resistance you give, any excuse you can give, he shoots it down quickly. Mammon has probably heard it a thousand times before. You’re not getting off easy.

He’s trying to be soft yet firm about this. You can tell even he is nervous about this confrontation. Regardless of how you take it, he’s patient and supportive. He even asks you if you’re doing this for a specific reason. He doesn’t expect you to be able to eat full meals the very next day. He catches you snacking on foods every once in a while. Thankfully, healthy stuff instead of junk food. It’s not much, but it’s something for your sake.

Leviathan

He knows almost immediately. He may or may not have a similar issue. Maybe not to the same degree, but he understands it. He decides to wait until you two are alone. Probably in his room. Still he waits, he waits until he can form the words in his head.

When he finally does pick the perfect moment, it’s probably not in his room while you two were watching anime or playing games. He’d likely chickened out in that moment, too afraid of upsetting you with the topic. Instead, he’s now in your room, standing at the door way. Like he’s an intruder, coming to scream at you for your problems.

His words are running together and he’s on the verge of tears. He practiced what he was going to say nearly a thousand times over, but he can barely get a sentence going before the dam breaks and he’s crying. How is he supposed to help you when he can’t even fix his own horrible eating habits? He gets so wrapped up in his otaku life that he sometimes forgets to eat. So who is he to lecture you?

He sits down with you, and you both look into how to fix this. While his problems aren’t as severe, yours definitely are. He doesn’t want to be dramatic, but you seeing a professional about this is probably the best course of action. Neither of you can build up the courage to ask someone else in the house for help, so you call a doctor together. Therapy is now on the table for options of seeking help, and while reluctant still, you wouldn’t bare to see Leviathan like that again. It was for you after all. You wanted to feel better, so he could feel better too.

Satan

Doesn’t pick up on it immediately, but once he does realize it, he’s on to you about it. He makes little remarks about it here and there, never teasing, but very curious. He’s trying to play armchair therapist and figure out what’s causing you to do this to yourself.

Eventually he comes to you while you’re alone and asks you about it. He’s calm and respectful the entire time, trying to get you to open up to him. Is it a lack of control in your life? He can relate to that. Not everyone gets forced to live in Hell for a year and be an exchange student.

He doesn’t exactly shut down each of your attempts of denial so easily as Mammon might, but he’s trying his best. The nonsensical pattern of your eating habits throws him through a loop, and he’s not sure if he’s able to keep up.

He does get one of his friends involved, who happens to be an expert in this field. He just wanted to wager for himself how severe the problem was before he got any help involved. He’s only hoping you can snap out of it and get yourself together. He doesn’t want you starving yourself for any reason.

Asmodeus

Like Levi, he may or may not have had a similar problem. Maybe to the same tune as a model, but it’s not a severe case. Regardless, when he catches you starving yourself, he’s unnerved by it. You said you weren’t hungry but your stomach is growling for food. Everyone thought it might have been Beel’s stomach, but it’s yours.

You’re only eating specific things at specific times. You can’t allow yourself to snack at all, and sometimes when you do, you withhold yourself from eating anything for the next day or so. Sometimes you won’t even leave your room. on those days.

Asmo is smart, so when you start wearing bigger clothes in vain hopes to cover up your skinny body, he steps in. He’s soft spoken and gentle, telling you how much he loves you and cares about you. He’s not afraid to tell you that your eating habits are hurting your body. He’s careful about it, and he’s trying to make sure you understand where he’s coming from. He’s doing this because he sees so many things that can go wrong with this. He doesn’t want any of them to become a reality.

With his help, you start to pick healthier things to eat. You aren’t eating full meals yet, let alone half your plate, but it’s more food than you were consuming before. He keeps you at it and overtime starts to see even more progress with you. He’s glad you’re coming around with his help.

Beelzebub

He for one, is glad that you seem to eat a lot. It’s not every day you see a human able to put food away like he does. Well- not quite like how he does, but close enough! You eat normally while in the dining room with the brothers, but then at night when everyone is in their rooms, you’ll go to the kitchen with him and eat the entire fridge’s contents.

You figured the last person to notice these issues is someone else who has a problem with their eating habits. While Bele isn’t exactly a human, you could consider his eating habits similar to just bingeing. Almost constantly, at that. Disappearing after eating with him is common practice. You’ll rush to the bathroom and purge your stomach of all its contents you had just consumed. Part of you is extremely guilty, eating all that food just so you could throw it up later.

Beel is a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them. At some point, he does catch you throwing up into the toilet. He was coming to take a shower before leaving for RAD when he found you doubled over the bowl. It was a few minutes after breakfast. He had figured by now, you’d been doing this for a while, long enough to where you’d start turning the sink on (sometimes flushing the toilet or turning on the shower) to hide the sounds. It didn’t work today.

He didn’t understand why you’d do this to yourself. He’d never really heard of eating disorders before, and always assumed it was normal to just eat whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. He figured trying to be careful with his own eating habits around you, would help you learn to eventually figure out how much you could eat. He’s patient, always talking to you while you eat with him, trying to distract your brain from the stress of eating. When you can’t finish all of your food that’s okay; he’s there to eat however much is left. It works out perfect for the both of you. He just wants to make sure you’ve at least eaten enough for your own body first.

Belphegor

Pica is a strange one. Belphie knows about these sorts of things. His twin brother is Beel, how could he not?

He’s almost certain you’ve got it. He’s never seen a human eat things like dirt, mud, or rocks. Beel, of course has eaten an entire pillar in the Demon Lord’s castle, but he’s not human. He’s not even a normal demon. You, on the other hand, are presumed to be a totally normal human. And humans don’t eat rocks.

He doesn’t know how to properly bring it up at first. He takes you up to the attic for a nap, and while you’re both laying there together, realizes that you two are alone. Now is just as good of a time as any, right?

Because it’s such a fatal things, Belphie is more than just determined to help you. As soon as possible, you’re seeing a doctor for this. He wants you to feel good about yourself, and your body can’t be feeling good if it doesn’t have normal foods to keep itself going. It may seem a bit selfish, but he wants to make it up to you. If you can’t properly care for yourself, he’ll make it his life’s goal to care for you. 

[my-happy-little-bean]

Do The Cooking By The Book

pairings: LAMP/CALM words: 6013 warnings: swearing, alcohol, implied panic attacks, small burn mention, general angst summary: patton bakes when he’s sad and nowadays, no amount of chewy chocolate chip cookies would be able to cover that up.

or: the five times patton bakes something for the others and the one time he can’t.

a/n- hello! welcome to part 2 of that series i mentioned before called  ‘let’s indulge bean in their slightly low quality, very personal fics’ (maybe i should actually make this an actual series on ao3 lol) :’)

i have been having a bit of writer’s block between this patton/janus one shot and golden slumbers (there's just o n e more scene i need to figure out, trust me it's haunting my every move), so i decided to write a bit of a fresh warm up instead! and by warm up, i mean i started writing it in the beginning of july and it somehow spiralled into a big thing, like they always do :’)

inspired by my declining mental health and my unhealthy obsession with baking focaccia at 2 am :)

p.s – later there's a [1] that's supposed to be a footnote but the formatting just said no so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

read on ao3 ~

enjoy!

----------------------------- 

~ patton’s chewy chocolate chip cookies ~

ingredients: 

2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

0 teaspoon club soda

2 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, softened (or melted, like my heart around my honeybees <3)

1 3/4 cups packed dark brown sugar (must be working out ;) )

1/4 cup granulated sugar sugar, honey honey (except no honey :P)

2 large eggs, room temp.

2 teaspoons vanilla extract (and not any extra-ct ;) )

2 cups Virgil-esque chocolate chips*

 *semi-sweet! ^v^

 –– 

“Holy shit, Pat.”

Patton smiled, all toothy and wide. He was still standing beside the couch Roman was lounging on, holding up the tray with his pastel blue oven mitts.

“You like it?” he beamed. Roman nodded, scrambling over the armrest to grab another.

“Umfh,  yeah,”  Roman replied, crumbs spilling out of his mouth. “Ovfiously.”

“...What?”

Roman quickly swallowed and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Patton laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “No worries! I think it’s a- dough -able.”

“...If you weren’t holding cookies right now, I'd say that you suck. But you're holding cookies, so..."

There was a pause that Patton quickly filled with laughter, even if it suddenly felt like he was struggling to carry the sound out of his chest and into the air.

Luckily, Logan walked into the room before Patton could say anything that was affected by the spontaneous pang in his chest. His eyes lit up upon seeing him. 

“Logan!” He cheerily dashed over to the other side of the room, holding up the tray to Logan’s face. “A treat for my smart cookie?”

Logan reeled back slightly to avoid getting hit by the edge of the tray. He pushed up his glasses.

“Ah, thank you, dear. But I do believe it is too early for copious amount of sugar consumption–”

“Just try one, cookie-tita,” Roman cut him off, “you and I know that you want one.”

Logan frowned at him over Patton’s shoulder, then looked back at Patton. He gave Logan the widest smile he could muster, which made him sigh. 

“While Roman’s reference was a bit of a stretch–” He eyed the cookies one more time, then looked back at Patton– ”I suppose I will agree to half a cookie.”

“Goody!” Patton said brightly. “Or should I say, gooey?”

“You shouldn’t.”

Logan picked one cookie up and took a small bite. His eyes softened, which made Patton’s heart melt. 

“...Oh sweet Einstein,” he muttered, grabbing one more cookie off the tray before making a beeline to the coffee machine in the kitchen. Patton just smiled to himself, admittedly a bit proud. 

Before he turned around to go see if Logan needed help, he heard shuffling coming up beside him. He looked over and smiled. 

“Virge! You’re awake!” Virgil pulled one side of his headphones up as Patton presented him the tray. “Cookie?”

“Uh, sure.” He took one and nodded when he had a few bites, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thanks, Pat.”

“No problemo!” he chirped, wandering back to the living room. Virgil trailed behind him, now slipping his headphones around his neck. 

“Did you bake these this morning?” Virgil asked as Patton set the tray on the coffee table in front of Roman, who readily lunged at it. Patton turned and smiled brightly at him. 

“Yeah! I mean...it was technically morning, heh.” 

Virgil blinked in that knowing way Patton was all too familiar with. Patton mentally cursed.  

“What do you mean by technically–”

Before he could say anything else, Patton clapped his hands together. 

“Well, I’m glad you all liked the cookies.” He tried not to think about how loud his own voice suddenly was. “Feel free to finish them!”

Roman frowned, mid-bite of his third cookie.

“Don’t you want any, sweetheart?"

“No no! I chip-ed in so much effort in baking them that I tired myself out, heh!” He faked a yawn. “I’ll just go to my room!”

Roman just laughed, stuffing another cookie in his mouth with a shrug. Logan wandered back from the kitchen, conjuring a book as he walked and nodding at Patton. He grabbed another cookie and sat on the couch beside Roman, leaning against his shoulder.

Virgil just looked at him as he left, eyes narrowed and steely. 

They’re so perfect, Patton thought as he sunk out to go to his room, leaving the three of his boyfriends alone with a wave. Perfect just the way they are.

 Without me.  

----------------------------- 

~ ‘i got ya’ focaccia ~ 

ingredients:

for the garlic-infused mixture

1/2 cup extra-virgin, PG-rated olive oil

2-3 minced garlic cloves

0 garlic gloves (haha i’m hilarious)

1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme or 1 teaspoon dried

1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary or 1 teaspoon dried

1/4 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper

for the bread

1 cup warm water

2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (1 packet)

1/4 teaspoon honey honey, you are my candy girl–

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt (maybe it’s wearing some nice clothes!) (sea what i did there? i’m funny, aren’t i?) 

–– 

Virgil heard a soft ‘ shit ’ coming from the kitchen. 

Don’t panic, it’s probably all fine,  he thought, slowly walking towards the entrance to the kitchen.  It’s totally not some burglar, ready to steal all our spices and blow them into my eye, making me blind. It can’t be, we’re not even real so how could there be a burglar–

As he neared the dimmed light coming from the kitchen, however, a quiet sob broke through his thoughts.

A chill ran through him. The sob was muffled, squeaky, and admittedly a bit pathetic in terms of how there was an attempt to cover it up. Almost like the sound a puppy would make when someone accidentally stepped on their paw.

All too familiar.

“Patton?” he murmured, turning on another light in the kitchen. 

Patton was hunched over the counter space beside the oven, next to a saucepan on a burner; which was emitting a strong garlic and herb smell. 

That wasn’t what Virgil was focusing on, though; but rather the way Patton held his hand close to his chest.

Patton spun around on his heel when his name left Virgil’s tongue, his eyes wide and glazed over, like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Sh– Virgil! Hi!” He laughed nervously. “What are you doing here? It’s like, 2 am!”

Virgil dug his hands in his sweater pockets. “I’m always up at 2 am. What are you doing here?”

He watched as Patton’s smile forcefully tugged at the corners of his lips.

“I’m baking focaccia! Wanna join?”

There was a slight crack in his cheeriness. Virgil took a step closer. 

“What happened to your hand?”

Patton looked down at it, then held up his index finger, which was slightly red. 

“Just accidentally brushed up against the pan!” he chuckled. “It was still hot. ”

“How could you brush up against the pan,” Virgil deadpanned, hopping onto the kitchen island. “Roman’s asleep.” 

Patton blushed as he ran his finger under cold water.

“Grab the flour and pour a cup of it in that bowl,” he said, shaking his hand dry and going back to the stove. “I think that the yeast and honey had enough time in the water. I’m just about done with the garlic stuff.”

“Okay, honey,” Virgil hummed, already scooping the flour in the measuring cup.

Patton turned to face him over his shoulder with a smile.  

“Gosh, you get funnier at 2 am, kiddo.”

Virgil shrugged. “It’s easy to cater to your humour, babe. Though no one does it as good as you do.” 

Patton’s blush intensified, and it made Virgil feel a little more at ease that he could still make him flustered like that. 

“So really, Pat,” Virgil asked, stirring in the flour as Patton went over with a smaller cup of the garlic-infused mixture. “Why are you up so late baking focaccia of all things?”

A pause. Patton finished pouring in his cup before turning his back away, his head low. 

“No reason!” he said brightly, though Virgil suddenly felt edges of darkness to each word. “I thought it’d be nice. Plus Roman loves my focaccia. Thought I could surprise him!”

A pause. Virgil wanted to press him more, but there was something about Patton’s cracked smile that advised him against it. He knew a warning when he saw one. 

“He likes anything you bake him, babe,” he said instead, adding salt and the rest of the flour before beginning to knead the dough in the bowl. “You could bake him a frog and he’d be grateful.”

“Now Virge, I think you’re mixing the twins up again,” Patton giggled. Virgil smirked, even if he felt like he shouldn’t. There was such heavy air in the kitchen; a positive emotion wouldn’t last a second. 

“You sure you’re okay, Patton?” 

When Patton finally faced him, it felt like the air was sucked out of him. Now that he was standing under the light, he felt like he saw all of him more clearly. There were dried tear tracks running down his cheeks. Did he always have those? And under his eyes were bags of purple, dark and stormy; clear evidence that maybe Patton had been late-night baking before. 

However, that broken smile was what haunted Virgil the most.

“I’m just peachy, Virge!” he chirped, conjuring up a towel and covering the bowl of dough Virgil probably over-kneaded. Patton’s eyes seemed to drill right into his own. “ Positive.”

Virgil numbly nodded as Patton clapped his hands. 

“Well! Now we wait!” He smiled again at Virgil. “Want some coffee?”

 ----------------------------- 

~ mushy gushy marshmallows ~

ingredients:

marshmallow base

2 cups of sugar 

1/4 cup corn syrup

1 cup water (1/2 for for dissolving gelatin)

7 tsp / 3 packets of gelatin

1/4 tsp salt

1 1/2 tsp of vanilla extract

 dusting powder

1 cup confectioner’s sugar

1/2 cup cornstarch

*note to future patton: don’t make these, actually. they suck.

–– 

“Fuck!” 

Logan heard the curse from the kitchen, lifting his head from his book and immediately smelling for any smoke. 

“Patton?” 

There was no smoke. Instead, just another string of curses. Logan sighed; it was not like the moral side to swear. But reprimanding him didn’t sound like a wise idea. 

Instead, he set his book down on the coffee table in front of him and wandered to the kitchen. 

“Is everything oka–”

He stopped mid-sentence and looked at the sight in front of him. 

Surrounding him was a sugary mess, with many bowls of gelatin and water littering the entire counter. Logan could only assume they were failed attempts at whatever was being made today.

In the middle of this mess was Patton, holding the hand mixer up in the air with tears streaming down his face. 

“...Let’s put the hand mixer down, shall we?”

Logan moved forward before Patton could even respond, slowly lowering his hand that held the mixer. Patton just sobbed, dropping it on the floor in defeat. Logan tried not to panic at the suddenly broken hand mixer. Logically, they could summon a new one. It was extra energy, sure, but it was fixable.

However, he wasn’t quite sure he could fix the sight in front of him.

“Is there something wrong, starlight?” he murmured, ushering Patton toward the kitchen table. Patton just sighed. 

“It’s the stupid marshmallows.” Patton threw his apron onto the floor as he sat down. “I just don’t get what I’m doing wrong. I tried everything.  And they– they just suck.” 

Logan blinked, almost dumbfounded. In all the years he spent together with Patton, he had never seen him so distraught. Not even his arguably-worse decisions elicited a response similar to the frustration he was currently witnessing. Patton always wore a smile and carried on. Any mistake was just a mistake; nothing more to it. 

So what was different here?

“I even tried summoning a candy thermometer,” Patton continued. Logan tried his best to be present, even if his worry was slowly overtaking all of his senses. “Those things are stupid! I thought–”

“Hey,” Logan finally said, cutting Patton off by holding his hands into his. “Let’s slow down for a minute, okay?” 

When Patton looked up at him, his heart broke. 

Patton’s eyes were glassy with tears, some kind of foreign look not too far behind his irises. The absence of his smile was even more unsettling. 

He looked completely different; as if someone took one of the loves of his life and replaced him without even leaving a trace. 

Suddenly, he was filled with what he only assumed was longing. 

“Patton,” he said slowly, looking down at their intertwined hands, “please don’t worry about the marshmallows. They’re just marshmallows. Clearly there is something else that is–”

He cut himself off as he heard Patton’s breath hitch. When he looked up, there was a faraway look in his eyes.

And that was when it clicked. That foreign look…

It was fear. Fear and guilt, all wrapped up in one. 

The face of someone who just got caught.

Patton quickly pulled his hands away from Logan’s, stumbling onto his feet and muttering something about cleaning up later under his breath as he sunk out. 

Logan blinked, taken completely aback. He quickly re-evaluated every word he said that could have led to him leaving. 

“They’re just marshmallows.” 

Logan winced. Shit. Perhaps Patton was still in his ‘in his feelings phase; not his ‘in need of rational solution’ phase. He should have known better and now, Patton was further away from him than he was before. 

Logan then thought about the guilt that struck Patton’s face before he could confront him; the fear in his eyes when Logan dared to dig a little deeper. 

Patton wasn’t far away, actually.

Patton was just gone;   and Logan didn’t know where to look to find him.

----------------------------- 

~drunken    bitter    butter rumcakes~

 ingrdents:

for the cupcakes:

1 cup of choped picans

1/2 cup coconut flake

yellow cake mix, lots of it probs

some vanilla puddin apparently? i dont know why

eggs i dont care how much fuck it

1/2 milk

vegetable oil (optional cuz it sounds gros)

rum

for the bitter rum glaze:

some butter and sugar

more rum

rum 

 for the frosting

confictione confecion confectioniser’s powdered sugar

soft buttter

vanilla extract

rest of the bottl eof rum probably

 ––

It only took a crash from the kitchen for Roman to realize that Logan and Virgil were right: something was wrong with Patton. 

Virgil had been the first one to express his concern, and it was right on the day Patton baked them all cookies. Patton had since baked many more cookies; which for some reason, only intensified his worry. Roman didn’t think much of it at first. Virgil, bless his soul, always held a bit of his paranoia close to his chest. Plus, Patton’s cookies were the best! There wasn’t much to complain about. A few days later, Virgil mentioned something weird about Patton’s focaccia; but even that admittedly didn’t raise any concern from Roman. 

It was when Logan mentioned the marshmallow incident that Roman knew something might be off. 

The two had warned him that going to the kitchen late at night could possibly bring some less than ideal sights, but that only drew Roman closer; like a beautiful moth attracted to light. If Patton was truly upset, Roman had to be there! He knew that the others didn’t know much about navigating the small crises Patton would have every now and then, but Roman did! It was Patton, after all! Roman had experience — and he just had to play it by the book. 

But when he finally walked into the kitchen upon hearing the source of the crash, he was greeted with something he never quite saw before. 

Patton was on the ground, holding a long, glass bottle by its neck and a bowl—with all its contents—was splattered on the floor beside him. 

Roman stood there, almost dumbfounded. Patton didn’t even realize he was there before he looked up and blinked a few times. 

Then, Patton started to cry. 

“Oh, sunshine,” Roman murmured, sitting next to him on the floor. The strong stench of alcohol filled the air beside Patton, and Roman saw a glimpse of a rum label on the bottle. It was half empty. 

“M’sorry,” Patton mumbled under his breath, immediately resting his head on Roman. “Didn’t–” He hiccuped– ”Didn’t mean to make noise.”

“Shh, mi amor, it’s okay.” Roman stroked his hair slowly, going through the familiar motions of comforting his boyfriend. “I understand. Let me help you, okay?”

Another sob wracked through Patton’s body. 

“I– I don’t deserve your help.” The words came out in a slur. Roman had a slight feeling that Patton didn’t use all the rum in his bottle for baking.

“Nonsense! Of course you deserve help,” Roman whispered, twirling a strand of his hair. “I’m here to help you. I always am.”

Patton leaned into the touch, though the weight of his head seemed heavier than usual; like he was unintentionally pressing himself onto Roman, limp against his shoulders.

“S’fine,” he said after a few more teary hiccups, trying to push himself onto his feet. “Gotta– gotta finish cupcakes. Tryna new recipe.” 

Roman frowned. “The cupcakes can wait until tomorrow, Patton; I’m going to bring you to bed and clean up–”

“No!” 

Roman jumped at the sheer volume of Patton’s voice, suddenly nervous that he’d wake the rest of them up.

I can handle this myself,  he thought.  I always have been able to, this isn’t different. 

“No, I don’t– I don’t need your help.” Patton stumbled up to his feet, leaning his arms on the kitchen counter like it was a life raft. He buried his head in his hands.  “I don’t need your help, I don’t need anyone’s help, I just need– I just need to finish this, then–”

“Darling, I don’t think–”

“No thinkin!” He pushed his index finger onto Roman’s lips. “No thinking, that’s for Logan. Tonight, we’re not thinking of anything– not thinking about anything anymore.”

Roman was taken aback. 

“Patton, we can continue,” he said gently, “but only if you sit down first and let me grab you some water, okay?”

Patton lifted his head to face Roman, his eyes red from the tears. 

“Why do you take care of me?” he suddenly asked, his voice a small whimper. Roman froze as he continued. “Why do– why do any of you care?”

“Patton, I–”

“I don’t do my fucking job right anyway,” Patton hissed. “I’m– I’m broken junk in Thomas’ brain! I can’t even do the right and wrong thing, I can’t– I can’t make him happy. I can’t make you guys happy– ‘n I  love you guys! God, I can’t even make stupid cupcakes–”

“None of that is true, Pat,” Roman tried to protest. “You make us extremely happy, you make me– ”

“You’re a liar!” Patton cried, turning on his heel to stare at Roman, whose heart dropped. “You’re– you’re a fucking liar, Roman.”

The air suddenly felt too thick for both of them to be breathing. Patton must have noticed that because as soon as the words left his tongue, he covered his mouth with his hands with teary eyes. 

“...Patton, please sit down. You’re not thinking straight.”

“M’not–”

“I know.” Roman tried to keep his voice levelled as he spoke. “Just...just sit down, okay? We’re going to talk it all through.” 

Patton just stared at him blankly for what seemed like an eternity before finally speaking up. 

“I’m sorry.”

And before Roman could plead for him one last time, Patton sunk out, the bottle of rum still in his hand.

Roman blinked at the spot Patton once stood in, all shaky and teary like he was facing an inky, twisted nightmare. His words echoed in his head and while Roman knew it was best not to take it all to heart, he still felt the sting of each curse. 

What kind of a hero was he?

He then looked at the splattered mixture on the floor and sighed. It looked a lot like cake mix. And if there was rum in that, it probably would’ve been good. A shame, really.

His eyes then spotted a book on the kitchen counter, open to a page that had a bit of rum on it judging by the smell. Roman frowned, going over to grab it. He closed it to look at the cover. 

It seemed to be Patton’s recipe book, judging by the baking-themed stickers littering the blue cover. When he opened it, he was greeted with pages of ingredients and instructions to make some of Patton’s signature baked goods. The first few pages made Roman smile; there were puns besides some of the ingredients and even cheesy references to him, Logan, and Virgil. It seemed very Patton-esque. 

But as he went further through the pages, the tone seemed to shift. There was an absence of puns for one of the recipes, and Roman knew he could’ve at least hit a few. And when he got further than that, he just stopped writing measurements all together. The rum cupcake recipe, which seemed like a recent entry, was barely decipherable. 

He flipped back a few pages and saw words scratched out; sentences that didn’t belong in a typical cookie recipe. And the corners of some of the pages were crisp, as if water dried on them over time. 

Roman’s breath hitched as he closed the book. Something was wrong, and for the first time he didn’t know what to do.

----------------------------- 

~ whats good-berry muffins ~ 

ingredients

who

cares

theyre

just

stupid

muffins

berries, probably

––  

“Roman, he did not mean what he said,” Logan said as Roman paced in front of him. “Perhaps you caught him at a bad time.” 

“A bad time?” Virgil echoed incredulously, turning around on the couch to face Logan. “Dude, he was wasted. That’s not a bad time, that’s a ‘code red’ time.” 

“Besides, shouldn’t you be advocating for intervention,  lo -ve of my life?” Roman asked, still pacing. “You seemed pretty upset about the now-called ‘marshmallow incident’.”

Virgil gave Logan a look and Logan looked down, almost embarrassed. 

“...I have since realized that my actions were not ideal, but that is to no fault of my own. Holding guilt does no good, and neither does intervening when one does not want to be...intervened upon.”

“Okay first off, even Janus lies more subtly than that.” Logan didn’t make eye contact with him, but stiffened at Virgil’s words. “And second of all, Patton  needs support. We’re supposed to be there for him – not just waiting for the most dire sign. The plane is crashing, Logan; you can’t just put your seatbelt on and wait. You have to do something.” 

“Actually, if an airplane is crashing and you are instructed to put your seatbelts on, it is of your best interest that you–”

“For Odin’s sake,” Roman groaned. “I love you, my nerd in shining armour; but you got to learn what a metaphor is.”

Logan fell quiet as Roman continued. 

“We need to do something. This isn't a typical Patton dilemma. And I know he doesn’t want to talk about it just out of the blue so we can’t confront him. We have to figure out a way for him to trust us.”

“He loves us,” Virgil grumbled, though hints of anxiety singed the edges of his words. “Shouldn’t the trust be there already?”

“Virgil, he loves us an infinite amount,” Logan said reassuringly, finally settling back into the chair. He pushed up his glasses. “In fact, he probably loves us too much to want to worry us or cause us any emotional strain.”

“But it wouldn’t cause us– well, whatever you said!” Virgil protested. He slumped over, his elbows pressed into his thighs. He looked defeated. “I just want to help him. I can’t stand seeing him like this.” 

“I know, stormcloud,” Roman murmured, sitting down beside us. “But...but we can do this. Together. We always have and now, we will.”

Logan nodded, tapping his shoulder so Virgil could rest against it. 

“Roman is correct. Besides, we do not even have to confront him. Perhaps confrontation is where part of this issue stems from. The trust is there, we just have to remind him that we are willing to, given that we are his partners. We just need to make a comfortable environment for–”

Suddenly, Virgil felt a small tug in his chest; as if something was pulling him downwards. His eyes widened and his breath hitched at the sensation. He knew where it was coming from. 

“Guys, it’s Patton. Something’s wrong.” 

In a flash, he sunk out, Logan and Roman soon following suit. Roman pulled out his sword just in case.

When they rose, they found themselves in Patton’s room; though it was less bright than usual. The fairy lights were flickering and swaying against the walls and the frames were all askew. It looked as if it was struggling to keep itself together. 

And in the middle of the room was Patton, on the floor and tugging at his hair as he cried, heaving into each sob. Surrounding him were boxes of half-summoned muffin mix, as well as some sugar slowly fading out of existence. In front of him was his recipe book, tearstained and ripped at the edges. 

Virgil immediately went to Patton’s side, scooping him up into his arms. Patton made no effort to protest, his body still clenched up from all the energy he was spending summoning the ingredients into his room. In the corner of his eye, he could even see the beginnings of what would be an oven.

“Patton,” Virgil heard Logan breathe out, still standing in the same spot behind them, almost in shock. “You are spending too much energy summoning all these things, your room nor your form cannot handle it. Why don’t you just go to the kitchen?”

Patton sobbed even more, tugging at his hair and curling up into Virgil’s chest. Virgil looked up at Logan over Patton’s hunched shoulders and just shook his head, his eyes flickering between him and Patton. 

Logan then made a small ‘o’ shape with his mouth, slowly approaching the two on the floor and sitting cross-legged beside him. He made an attempt to lower Patton’s hands from his hair. Eventually, it turned into him rubbing small circles in Patton’s back with the palm of his hand, softly whispering “it’s okay” under his breath as he moved closer to him and Virgil. 

Roman dropped his sword onto the floor and followed suit, grabbing a fluffy blanket from Patton’s bed and going behind his three boyfriends, laying the blanket over their shoulders as if he was shielding them from the unstable room surrounding them. He hovered over their shoulders for a while before kneeling down and hugging all three of them. 

And as the ingredients slowly disappeared around them, the room began to fix itself. Patton could breathe a bit slower now, yet the others curled up into him like the warm blanket they were surrounded by. 

Eventually, Patton realized that he was no longer crying;  yet everyone stayed. 

And then, Patton fell asleep;  and they stayed for that too. 

----------------------------- 

~ Don’t Forget-ti That We Love You Funfetti Cake* ~

 Ingredients:

 For the cake

1 and 2/3 cup (210g) all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda (because so-da one for us!) [1]

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup (1 stick or 115 g) unsalted butter, melted

3/4 cup (150g) granulated sugar

1/4 cup (50g) packed light brown sugar

1 large egg

1/4 cup (60g) yogurt

3/4 cup (180ml) milk

1 Tablespoon (15ml) pure vanilla extract

2/3 cup (90g) sprinkles (nonpareils not recommended**) 

For the buttercream

1 cup (2 sticks or 230g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature

3–4 cups (360-480g) confectioners’ sugar

1/4 cup (60ml) heavy cream

2 and 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

salt, to taste

 *Virgil actually came up with this and thinks its so lame so thats why that’s the name LOL ~ Roman

[1]  Roman wrote this pun but I am making the executive decision to retract this comment from the original script because it is not a necessary part of the recipe.

**can you tell that lo was the one who wrote the recipe ~ v 

–– 

Patton tried his hardest to fight the pull coming from the kitchen. 

It’s been a few days since the others found him in his room after his failed ‘bake muffins in isolation’ mission and Patton hadn’t dared to bake since. After all, if that incident wasn’t a good enough warning, the other times they found him in the kitchen were. He couldn’t let them see him like this again, what ‘this’ was. 

The others thought they knew he was upset about something, but Patton didn’t know how to tell them that he didn't even know what he was feeling. He wasn’t upset, he wasn’t stressed; he was just feeling every feeling, all at once.

And he didn’t know what to do. 

Baking was the only thing he could do when he felt like this. He longed to see a smile on Virgil’s face; to watch Logan actually eat and enjoy it rather than talking about how it didn’t matter that they ate; to laugh as Roman scarfed all of it down and ask for the recipe. The recipe book was actually going to be Roman’s gift for their anniversary. It made his heart ache even more knowing that it wasn’t good enough for him anymore. 

When he felt everything or nothing at all, he would just bake and watch as the people he loved were filled with joy; and Patton, selfish as it is, would bask in the sunlight they radiated. If he kept baking and kept making them happy? Well, their light could never disappear. 

But then, it did.

And Patton couldn’t bear to stand in the darkness of that kitchen anymore. 

Still, the tugging persisted. Patton secretly hoped that him pitying himself would guilt whatever force was summoning him to the kitchen into giving up its pursuit. 

Patton sighed, tugging the strings of his cat hoodie a little tighter so that the hood with wrap around his head. Maybe if he didn’t show his face, no one would see that he had been crying for an hour or so. 

When he sunk out, he was met with a warmly-lit kitchen and a small cake in the middle of the dining table.

Patton frowned, walking towards it curiously. It was a very...rustic cake, if rustic still meant ‘messy’ in baking terms. The icing was a bit rough around the edges and he felt like the writing in icing was supposed to say “WE ❤ U” but the heart looked a bit like...well, Patton didn’t want to say. 

Still, it was rather cute. There was a small plate beside it with a fork and a slice of the cake, dots of sprinkles baked into it. Patton smiled; it seemed to be a funfetti cake! His favourite!

Patton took a bite out of the cake without really thinking about it, his smile only growing at the sweet taste. 

That was when he saw the book. 

It laid neatly beside the plate, open to a page he didn’t quite remember writing. On it were various scribbles of bright red ink mixed with blue ink, along with a note written in pencil at the bottom of the page. He recognized the handwriting immediately as he picked up the book and began to tear up. 

“Virgil, if he does not want to be summoned you cannot–”

Patton looked up from the book and saw Logan and Virgil suddenly at the entrance to the kitchen, stopped in their tracks with their eyes wide. They stared at each other for a brief moment before Virgil huffed, breaking the silence.

“See, Lo?” He kissed Logan's cheek and went on his tip-toes to ruffle his hair, much to Logan’s dismay. “Patton always comes down for cake.” 

Patton dropped the book on the table and went over to sweep the two in a big hug, warm and tight and filled with love. Virgil fell quiet, but hugged back as Logan chuckled, patting Patton’s back. 

“I sincerely hope the cake is to your standards, Patton,” he said as he pulled back. “I know that the aesthetics are not...well, they are not ideal; Roman spent so much time planning that he forgot to take into account the amount of time we’d  actually have–”

“Logan?” Patton said, his voice still scratchy from being close to tears. “I love you. It’s perfect.” 

Logan smiled brightly, the light from it almost blinding Patton. 

“You guys didn’t have to bake for me!” Patton rubbed at his eyes with a small laugh. “I know baking a cake is no easy task, especially a funfetti cake!”

Virgil shrugged. “Logan led most of it. I kinda just made sure the kitchen didn’t explode. You know how those two can get."

Patton giggled. “Of course.”

“Roman should be on his way shortly,” Logan said, pushing up his glasses. “He is acquiring a few blankets and pillows from his room.”

Patton perked up at the thought. Roman’s blankets were made of the softest, most delicate velvet. The idea made his chest warm up.

“You guys did all of this for me?” Patton asked, his voice small. 

“Of course we did, Pat.” Virgil held Patton’s hand and kissed it softly. “We love you. And we want to be here for you; even in the less-than-ideal times. You would do the same for us.”

“But we do not expect you to dwell on your emotions if you do not feel comfortable doing so,” Logan continued as he went over to the dining room to grab the cake. “If you would like, we can watch Disney movies and eat cake and provide a distraction. However, we want to reassure you that we are here to listen to whatever is troubling you, so whenever you feel comfortable, please do not hesitate to reach out.” He paused. "We do not have to find a solution right now. We can metaphorically 'sit in the feelings' for a while."

Patton smiled as Logan arrived at his and Virgil’s side. He kissed Patton’s shoulder softly before making his way to the living room, where Patton could hear Roman rambling about what movie would be the best to watch; and he heard Logan’s rebuttals come after. 

And walking out of the kitchen and into the living room could only be described as a slow-moving blur. Patton watched as Roman spotted him and swept him up into a big hug, startling Virgil who was later brought into the hug as well. He watched as Logan gave them an amused smile, patting the blankets Roman arranged under a pillow fort in front of the TV, the opening to Tangled—Patton’s favourite—playing on the screen. 

“I love you guys,” Patton murmured as he sat in the middle of the pillow fort, a plate with cake in front of him. Logan sat beside him with a nod, kissing his head as he summoned four forks with a smile. Roman and Virgil found their way somehow into the tangled mess of each other, cuddling against Logan and Patton until they were the closest humans, or sides, could ever get.

And no one complained when Patton paused the movie when Eugene got stabbed, crying a bit and telling them about how that scene sort of reminded him about what he felt the night before. No one left when Patton began to spiral a bit from that and sob into his cake, finally admitting to them his thoughts and how he had just been feeling everything. 

And then, everyone stayed; even after that. 

[karlajoyner]

Impossible (Reggie Peters x Reader)

A/n: This was again another request! I definitely enjoyed writing it! If you guys have any requests please comment them or dm me! Also currently working on an Owen Joyner smut that goes a little more into detail than the last so be prepared! Also let me know if you guys think I should make a tag list!

Requested by: @universefangirl (Tumblr)

Warnings: Smut (18+)

————

I sat in my best friends garage listening to her rehearse with her band until it was time.

"Flynn's gonna love this" I said looking up from my sketch book.

"Thanks y/n/n. I honestly don't know what I would've done if you hadn't believed me"

"Well at first I didn't. But you proved your point Jules" I said remembering how I just thought they were normal boys at first. Cute normal boys.

"I just hope she forgives me" The girl sighed looking down. I looked back at the rest of her bandmates who like all guys stood there awkwardly. They all sent me a look begging me to comfort her. I rolled my eyes standing up.

"Julie we've all been best friends since kindergarten. We've been through everything together. This is just another one of those things we have to get through" I said going to pull her in for a hug from behind.

"Thanks. Again. It really means a lot"

"What are best friends for?" I smiled as she hugged back the room going silent.

“You never know how long your supposed to wait in this type of situation before you can talk again you know?" (If you know where that's from I love you) Luke said making my head whip towards him.

"Maybe a little longer" The brunette spoke making me facepalm.

I looked back at the group nervously to see them giving me a thumbs up. My gaze quickly finding the cute bass player who sent me an air kiss. I jokingly pretended to catch it earning disgusted looks from the rest of the band.

"Gross" Julie joked.

"Shut it Molina" I warned turning around to go bring our other friend in. I was startled at the sudden sound of knocking outside the doors. Hearing a few chuckles from behind me as I opened the door.

"Hey Flynny" I smiled using the nickname I gave her when we were kids.

"Y/n? What are you doing here? Where's Julie?"

"I'm right here" Said girl called from behind me.

"Thanks for coming we just wanted to rehearse the song so it was perfect which it's not but whatever"

"No if I'm gonna hear a song from your imaginary ghost band I want it to be perfect so get back in there" Flynn said waving us back.

"All of you. You too" She said pointing to absolutely nothing.

"She's not lying Flynn. They're real"

"Oh my god now you've got y/n/n in on your imaginary ghost band? Do you play air drums?" Flynn's asked placing a hand on my shoulder.

"No that's Alex. I'm not in the band per se but I watch them rehearse all the time. Plus my boyfriends in it"

"Oh so she really sucked you in. So where are they?"

"They're not out here"

"Oh I know" Flynn said patting Julie's shoulder before walking in. I looked at the girl beside me playfully rolling my eyes.

Flynn had always been the logical one out of the three of us. So no doubt this was gonna have to be good. I shut one of the doors behind us while Julie shut the other before making my way towards the boys who stood there looking excited.

"Good luck" I whispered. Placing a quick kiss to Reggies cheek.

"Oh so my best friends just kissing the air now. That's great. What's your moms number again?" She asked pulling out her phone. I playfully rolled my eyes taking a seat on the couch pulling up my sketch book once more.

I was currently working on a drawing for the guys. Something that screams were alive. As Luke put it.

"All right guys you ready? Uh actually can you go over there. Reggie needs some space to rock out and he feels kinda weird walking through you" Julie said. Flynn letting out a chuckle.

"Boy when you create a world you really live in it"

"Just sit" Julie said sitting her down in an empty chair.

"If you'll notice there's no equipment that will produce a hologram. Feel free to look around. The guys took a poem that I wrote about you and put it to music"

"Y/n helped" Reggie interrupted making me smile.

"I'm sorry. The guys and y/n"

“Aww! I wish I didn't have to talk to your parents after this"

“Come on Flynny it's a great song"

"If you say so y/n/n. So when did you go crazy?" She asked placing a hand on her knees.

"It's called Flying Solo. Hope you like it" I smiled upon hearing the opening notes of the song.

J- If I leave you on a bad note

Leave you on a sad note

I know all your secrets

You know all my deep-dish

Guess that means some things they never, they never

Change...

We both know what I, what I, what I

Mean...

When I look at you it's like I'm looking at me

I looked up from my book when Flynn let out a scream signalling she could finally see them.

All- My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you

Hey! yeah-e-yeah

Hey! yeah-e-yeah

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you

I grinned at Flynn who gave me a horrified look.

"Are you seeing this?" She whispered. I only nodded giggling at her reaction.

J- Yeah, you know who I'm likin'

Way before I liked them, duh...

Cause you liked them first

And if somebody hurts you

I'm gonna get hurt too

That's just how we work, yeah, that's just how we work

It will never

Change...

We both know what I, what I, what I

I bit my lip watching my boyfriend sing at a close proximity with Luke. Something that I'll never get used to. But definitely enjoyed. When they finallly separated Reggie sent me a wink as he sang the chorus. Luke gradually making his was over to me sitting down on the armrest beside me.

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you

I chuckled as Luke scared Flynn. Instinctively I smacked his arm. Earning a confused look coming from the girl as Julie pulled her away towards Alex and Reggie.

Hey! yeah-e-yeah

Hey! yeah-e-yeah

I watched closely as Flynn attempted to touch my boyfriend only to have her hand go right through him.

"Weird right?"

"They're ghost!" "Oh we prefer musician spirits"

"But y/n" Flynn said pointing at me.

"We don't understand it either. But she can see and touch them. It's not the same for both of us" Julie explained showing how her hand went through Reggie as well.

“Julie so does this mean you're joining the our band?"

"Umm actually I think you're joining her band"

"I'm gonna go with what she said" Julie said sticking a hand out for me. I grinned taking it.

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you

Julie sang the three of us dancing along.

"You're crazy" Flynn mouthed to me making me smile wider. She tilted her head to the side pointed at the bassist who had his focus on me.

Hey! yeah-e-yeah

Hey! yeah-e-yeah

I moved away from the two girls to let them have a moment. Reggies bass playing coming to a halt. Instinctively I moved to his side. His arm finding my waist and pulling me close. A chuckle leaving his lips.

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you

Julie harmonized coming forehead to forehead with Flynn.

"Still wanna talk to our parents?"

"No I'm good" Flynn said the two girls hugging.

"Bring it in y/n/n!" Julie said opening her arms wider. I smiled kissing Reggies cheek before rushing to engulf my best friends in a group hug.

"I'm really glad Flynn enjoyed the song today" I spoke after a long day. I was finally able to sit in at my desk and continue drawing in my sketchbook.

With Reggie present in the room as well. Like most nights.

"I did too. She seems like a cool girl"

"Oh she is Reg. She was literally my first ever friend and with Julie the three of us have been inseparable since" I explained to my boyfriend who moved his arms behind his head.

"Well then I guess I'll have to get to know her better. For your sake of course" He said the room falling into a comfortable silence with exception of my soft music playing in the background.

Ed Sheeran to be exact. He had easily become one of the boy's favorites new artist. So when they hung out in my room I played him a lot. Along with other artists of course.

It had been about 15 minutes of my pencil hitting the paper when I finally looked up to see Reggie gazing at me.

"Have you been staring at me this whole time?"

"Maybe"

"Why?" I asked.

"Because your adorable"

"Really Reg. Look at you. Your a hot teenage ghost rocker from the 90's and you think I'm adorable" I giggled.

"I love your laugh" He stated my cheeks immediately heating up.

"Thanks" I smiled shyly.

"I love you" He spoke again. My heart stopping.

That was the first time either of us had said that. Since the night I met them in Julie's garage to now. Those were the last words I never expected anyone to say that wasn't family or Julie or Flynn.

Upon not hearing a response the look on his face dropped as he pulled himself to the edge of the bed in front of me.

"I-I mean you don't have to say it b-back I was just thinking out loud but like I could have been t-talking about anything like pizza. I love pizza. P-pizzas good well except pineapple pizza kinda of sort of. Actually you know what's really good cheese pizza that's nice I really like it-" I quickly cut him off by placing a tender kiss to his lip. Feeling his hands cup my cheeks the warmth of them making me feel safe. Loved.

I wanted more of him. I wanted to feel all of him.

Finally breaking apart I smiled at the boy in front of me.

"What?" He asked as I gazed into his beautiful brown eyes.

"I love you too Reg" His small smile only getting bigger.

He quickly removed the sketchbook away from me. Placing me onto his lap.

"Are you sure?"

"I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything my whole life" I smiled as he pushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Kiss me" I whispered. Reggie immediately taking action.

I giggled as he began to kiss down my neck my hands flying to remove his red flannel. He was quick to remove it himself among my request. His other hand gripping my waist. I took this as my opportunity to fix myself on his lap straddling him. Like I'd done so many times before.

Our lips met in the middle as we both kissed each other with such force. Such passion. I smirked into the kiss as I placed my hand under Reggies tank top. His reaction something I hadn't expected.

"W-what are you doing?" He asked pulling away to look me in the eyes. I bit my lip giving him a look.

"Oh" He said letting out a breath.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah"

"Have you ever....." He trailed off. I nodded watching his face drop.

"If it helps I didn't really like the guy. And it was a long time ago"

"Oh" He kind of perked up.

"So? Are we good here?" I asked placing a soft kiss on his neck. And another and another. Until finally settling on a spot. Earning a throaty groan from the ghost.

"Yup" He squeaked out making me smirk. I placed my hand where it had been previously hiking it up his shirt. He quickly removed it before pulling me back in for a rough kiss.

"Reggie" I moaned as I began to grind on him only earning a soft whimper from the boy. Thankful my parents were out of town. Not for Reggies sake but mine.

"Come on y/n/n don't tease me now"

"You asked for it Reg" I smirked standing up. I smiled noticing how intently he was watching my next moves. I quickly removed my shirt and bra watching him gulp down nervously.

"Like what you see?" I asked biting my lip nervously.

I watched as he nodded eagerly before continuing. I removed my jeans as well leaving me in my panties before slowly bending down in front of him.

"N-no" He spoke stopping me from reaching toward his jeans.

"W-why not?" I asked confused.

"It's just- I wanna be with you tonight. We have plenty of time for everything else but this. This is different. It's our first time. I mean like not our first times but like our first time together and I-" I quickly cut off his cute rambling again with a kiss.

"I get it Reg. It's about us tonight" I smiled pushing him back onto my bed. Straddling him once more.

“Your so beautiful" He whispered his hands flying to my waist.

"Why thank you Reginald" I spoke bending down to meet his lips. Our bare chest coming into contact for the very first time. I moaned as he toyed with the waistband of my panties.

"Reggie please do something" I mumbled against his lips. He immediately took action flipping us over.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked waiting for my consent.

I simply nodded watching as he removed his jeans and boxers letting his hard on spring free from the contained fabric.

"Reggie" I panted digging my teeth into my bottom lip to widthold from the unholy sounds threatening to escape my lips.

"What baby? What do you want?" He teased pushing his finger against the fabric of my panties.

"You" He quickly ripped apart the thin fabric around my waist letting it fall off my body. Throwing it off to the side.

"Are you ready?"

"Wait!" I shouted pulling open a nearby drawer. I pulled out a condom from a box that had been sitting there for a while.

"Protection? Why do you have that there?"

"Well I knew this day would come Reg. I was hoping it would be with you" I said a smile forming on his face.

"Do you think we'll need it? I mean I'm a ghost"

"Safety first baby"

"Well okay then" He said slipping it on.

"Okay now are you ready?" I nodded as he slowly entered me.

Our moans filled the room as he let me adjust to his size.

"Baby your so tight" "Yeah well it's been a while" I muttered pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Okay you can move" I said giving him the go.

"If you want me to stop just say so okay?"

"Okay" I confirmed as he lent down to place a kiss upon my lips. He slowly began to move until he found a good pace. His thrust moving faster as a spur of moans left our lips.

"God I love you so much" I mumbled against my lips.

"Mmm. Faster Reg!" I encouraged him really feeling the pleasure course through me now. Getting exactly what I wanted I began to moan louder feeling him hitting my G spot at the perfect angle.

"Right there" I spoke feeling a knot forming in my lower stomach.

"I'm so close baby"

"Me too" He panted. We both released our orgasms at the same time relief washing over me as he pulled out. I laid back on the bed watching him throw the condom in the trash can under my desk.

"That was amazing" He said coming back to hover over me.

"It was" I smiled up at him. Pulling him down from behind his neck for another kiss. "I love you baby. I love you so much"

"I love you more" I said as he laid down beside me pulling the covers over us.

"Impossible"