#the colouring might be a little weird for the last few gifs

[rubystatic]

Asking For Trouble

I wasn't sure what to write for my first post here. I haven't written for Hazbin Hotel before, but I figured what better introduction to the fandom than a literal introduction between Alastor and the reader? I've had this scene rattling around in my head for a few weeks, so I hope you enjoy it.

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Contents: demonic summoning, Alastor being an eldritch horror, hints of gore, blood, minor self-injury (not sh)

The red paint glistens like fresh blood in the light of the candles. A dozen or more of them, scattered around your living room, resting atop the coffee table, the TV stand, melted onto the top of the bookcase and the windowsill. Thick, black candles you bought from the Halloween clearance sale at the local big box store. You don’t think colour matters, but it felt right for the occasion. If you’re going to do this, you might as well do it right. 

A clear space dominates the centre of the room—all the furniture has been pushed aside, crowding up against the walls to make room. You’ve rolled up the living room rug and propped it against the stairs. 

When you first moved into your basement apartment, you were dismayed to discover that it had a poured concrete floor, and that the landlord hadn’t bothered to put in carpet or laminate or even cheap lino. However, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the rent price was such a steal, you didn’t dare question him on it in case he decided he wanted a less whiny tenant. 

You have reason to be grateful for it now, though. A red pentagram painted on a wooden floor or carpet would be a quick way to make sure you never got back your security deposit. A bit of turpentine and it’ll be like this never happened. 

Assuming that you’re still alive. If this even works.

The thing that started it all, a simple black notebook—some Moleskine rip-off—sits open at the edge of your circle, along with a whole mess of measuring implements. A simple protractor wasn’t good enough for something like this. You’d had to buy some stuff off the internet, and now your Amazon recommendations looked like a geometry professor’s wet dream. 

And there I was, thinking 10th grade math would never get me anywhere in the real world. 

You pick up the notebook, glancing between the scrawled diagrams and measurements and your own summoning circle. It looks right. It had better be, since you spent all afternoon hunched over, painting it with dollar store acrylic paints. Oh, and your life depends on it. Can’t forget that much. 

The notebook is a journal of sorts. You found it behind the bookcase when you first moved in, wedged there and forgotten. The pages are covered in the feverish scrawl of a previous resident. At first you felt a little weird about reading it, but curiosity overcame any moral quandary you had in the end. 

The journal outlines the three month period it took for a young writer to seemingly descend into madness as his work was rejected, over and over. As his girlfriend left him, his father died, and his life fell to pieces. He became more and more desperate, his writing growing erratic. His writing research had already led him down some occult paths, but it seemed he’d decided to pursue them even further.

Which was you’ve come to be kneeling on your living room floor, trying to summon a demon.

Taking a deep breath, you flip to the last page, where the invocation is written, the pen almost tearing through the paper in some places. It’s the last entry. 

You reach out, and use your fingertips to push a plate of venison over the boundary line, into the centre of the pentagram. The meat is a dark, pinkish red, practically pulsing with blood and vitality, as the journal instructs. 

Getting it necessitated a trip outside city limits to a questionable butcher in the countryside who specialised in game meat. The journal is very clear—it has to be fresh. Supermarket meat won’t cut it.

Everything is in place. There’s nothing left to do but begin.

You take a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you lift the journal, holding it open. You have a strange feeling of duality, that you’re both at once powerful and ridiculous. Someone tearing open the veil between worlds to seek higher (or lower) power, and someone playing pretend. 

You force yourself to ignore the latter, pushing it aside and holding onto the image that what you’re doing is going to work. Faith is important, even if it isn’t invested wisely. 

“Let—”

Oh, shit, you’ve forgotten a step. 

Dropping the journal in your haste, you reach for the small pen knife lying at the edge of the circle. Gritting your teeth, you tighten your grip on the wooden handle, and make a small cut on the side of your thumb. Holding your fist out over the circle, you let a few beads of blood, looking almost black in the candle light, splatter the venison. 

You open a bandaid and slap it over the cut, pleased you haven’t completely sliced your palm open like they do in movies. Don’t they know how long that takes to heal? 

Anyway, back to the demon summoning. 

“Let this offering of flesh and blood open the veil between the earthly realm and the depths of Hell,” you read aloud, your voice becoming stronger with every word.

No wonder that writer guy couldn’t get his shit published if this is how he wrote everything. Despite the stilted prose, you keep reciting it aloud, just glad it’s not in Latin, or worse, rhyming. 

“I summon you, o’ Deal Maker, Keeper of Bargains, Purchaser of Souls—” 

Seriously? Writer of Bullshit, more like. 

“I summon you, Alastor!” 

You hold your breath as the last echoes of your voice fade from the walls, waiting for something to happen. The candles continue to flicker gently, and you can hear the muted hubbub of voices from your neighbour’s TV upstairs. Your knees are starting to hurt from sitting on the floor. 

Sighing, you let the journal drop to the floor. It hasn’t worked. Of course.

Why did you think this was going to work? Summoning a demon of all things—

The candles ripple as if stirred by a breath, then their flames spike upwards, rigid. The light throws shadows across the walls, but the shadows don’t move in the right way. They sway back and forth, almost in a trance, as if the room is tilting side to side. 

The candle flames stretch up and up, thinning out into streamers. The golden glow dims, before blooming a bright, venal red. Your ears fill with the sound of static as the painted lines of the summoning circle begin to glow crimson. Smoke boils up from the centre into a plume of pulsing fog, backlit by the red light and twitching shadows. 

Something very old, buried and half-forgotten in your DNA screams at you to run, but you’re frozen to the spot, gaping as a figure takes form within the smoke. A tall, thin silhouette, long limbs distorted. Ice seeps into your gut.

The smoke clears, leaving an apparition, a demon, in your living room. It is not the monster you expected. No red skin, no black pits for eyes, no fire and brimstone… But whatever he is, he’s definitely not human. 

Stretching from floor to ceiling, he must be seven feet tall or more, with a thin, attenuated form and an inhumanly narrow waist. The demon is a vision in red, from his hair to his suit to his eyes, red on red, his pupils black slits in a sea of glowing crimson. 

It’s his smile that truly terrifies you, though. 

His teeth gleaming, the colour of aged ivory. Two rows of sharp, dagger-like points, ready to sink into flesh, designed to rend and tear. Whatever this creature is, death sustains him. 

Red hair, tipped in black, frames his face in a short bob, and tufts up at the top in what you think might be ears. Two small, black antlers jut from the top of his head. 

The static in  your ears crescendos like a wave crashing over your head, and the demon’s smile widens. He hums to himself, his voice a crackle, and looks around your meagre apartment. Finally, his gaze comes to rest back on you, the most interesting thing here.

“My, my,” he says, a strange, Transatlantic twang to his voice, “it’s been a while since someone summoned me. You really know how to set the mood, don’t you? Summoning circle, candles, and what’s this?” 

He leans down to pick up the plate of venison. Your blood has seeped into the meat by now, indistinguishable from the dead deer’s blood. The demon uses his gloved hand to pick up a morsel of the meat, his red eyes widening in pleasure, before popping it into his mouth like an hors d'oeuvre. 

“Delicious,” he praises. “Not a bit of fat on it, either. How did you know venison is my favourite?”

Before you can answer, his gaze lights upon the abandoned journal. He lets out a chuckle that’s half radio static. 

“Oh, that old thing. I should have known!” He slaps his knee in an over-the-top display of amusement. “You’re all so eager to throw yourselves into the Abyss! Humans, lemmings, what’s the difference?!”

The demon pretended to wipe a tear of mirth from his eye, before finally paying attention to you again. His grin cranked up a notch, practically splitting his face in half, and his hooded red eyes gleamed at you. 

“I haven’t introduced myself. How remiss of me. The name’s Alastor. A pleasure to meet you, my dear.”

The static in his voice fuzzed out, leaving behind a raspy baritone.

“Now, what can I do for you, darling?”

[your-local-hoemie]

ꕥgenshin impactꕥ boyfriend head-canons. Number 2 Liyue boogaloo~

The first one I did got so much attention like thank you so much, I’d die for you all ^^

No I didn’t put xiao first because I was too excited to write him and no I didn’t get carried away with his scenario. Shut up.

I’m still super busy, I kid you fucking not I’ve been trying to get fired but it isn’t working for some god damn reason and I’ve had like four hours sleep in total since my last request so I apologise if this is completely incoherent, I am rapidly becoming very unhinged <33

This was just for funsies and to keep me sane so I still apologise for not get to any requests at the moment :(

Summary: Just the Liyue boys as your S/O uwu

Warnings: fluff, swearing, established relationship, gn!reader, a little suggestive (childe), not proof-read.

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, Childe (I know he’s from that Russian place I can’t spell for the life of me but shush).

I really wanted to do baizhu but I just pulled him and I wanna go through his story so I can really get his character traits, I’ll be doing my fruity baby in the future~

Xiao~

Oh my sweet baby

My boy

The man, the myth :(, the legend~

He’s the reason my standards are too high

Curse his pretty face

Absolutely oblivious before confessing

Everyone around him could tell how different he was around you

But no matter how much they mentioned it he’d just be like

“Adepti have no need for such feelings, you mortals have such foolish ideas and no respect”

Meanwhile he’s trying his best to stomach the cake you made him just because you made it for him

At first he genuinely thought you were kinda annoying lmao

Always being so nice to him and wouldn’t leave him alone

Only when you went away to Inazuma did he realise how much he grew accustomed to your strange daily rituals of bringing him qingxings that you picked yourself just to follow him around like a puppy

I actually don’t think he’d appreciate being given too much almond tofu

Even though he likes it better than any other food can you imagine being fed the same thing everyday non stop :/

Proceeded to ask his dad Zhongli for advice

He doesn’t understand why he feels all weird and tingly

Genuinely thinks it’s his karmic debt

Zhongli proceeds to be a shit and tell’s him to “find out on his own” for some kind of moral lesson or something idfk

When he accidentally brings it up with Goldet, things get fun

Well not really for him but for everyone else’s entertainment, yes

Even with exTREME reluctance he somehow gets roped into “how to express emotions 101” lessons

Has to practice having a full conversation with a scarecrow that Goldet ever so kindly dragged in for him :)

Embarrassed, Humiliated, overwhelmed

And yet still he persists for reasons unbeknownst to him

It isn’t until he overhears some rumours about a show down between the electro archon and a mortal that he realises he might like like you

That and the constant teasing and encouragement from Zhongli and Goldet

Boys distraught

First of all he can’t have feelings for someone

He’s just going to hurt you!

He has a duty to uphold!

Only after brooding to himself for a few days does he accept it

Take it slow with him please, he may be a demon killing yaksha but he’s so scared and paranoid

Red flags? Nah we colour blind here

When you get back from Inazuma it’s very clear that your patience is thin and energy being nonexistent

Fuck you tsurimi island I hope you burn

So seeing when returning to Wangsheng Inn to find the one person you’d be holding out to see after so long, not there and a letter left to you telling you to head to the top of gingyun peak

You were not happy to say the least

Thought it was another commission and almost didn’t go

Curiosity got the better tho and that’s where he awkwardly gave you his own qingxing flowers and a amusingly bad attempt at making your favourite food

Tries to hide how red he is

Seeing you cloaked in the moonlight, leaves and fireflies framing your pretty face~

Boys a mess~

He doesn’t even have to say anything, you just pull him in for a hug and after the initial shock of it he decides then and there that you’re now bound together <3

Rarely openly admits he loves you

Too scary

At least for the moment

He is a bird

So you know what that means?

Bird behaviour goobery activated~

Brings you flowers, pebbles, crystals and anything “pretty” he comes across during his day

Pda is a no unless you want him teleporting away and pouting for a good 48 hours because he got flustered

When you’re alone though he’s more open

Hand holding, forehead kisses, sometimes even cuddling if the planets align and his karma isn’t bothering him as much that day!

He’s so touch starved he just needs to get used to affection ;-;

Stalks you romantically

He just wants to keep you safe, he’s lost so much and gone through unimaginable pain

It took some time for him to be ok with you being so close to him since he’s scared of his karmic debt hurting you

Gets super red when talking about you~

“Hm? Y/N? Well they’re..um..very important to me I suppose”

Poof. he’s suddenly “needed” somewhere else

Even if it doesn’t seem like he cares too much I can assure you that he treasures you

You’ve given his life filled with pain and loss so much meaning and even though he’s bad with expressing his emotions he’ll always find some way to make sure you know how special you are to him <3

I don’t think he’d use much pet names

Either calls you by your first name/Qingxing/sweetheart/love.

Zhongli~

Mmm fancy gentleman

British but if British people weren’t a mistake

Sighs in being British

He’s such a gentle dude ;-;

Always pulling chairs out for you or kissing your hand while holding a door open

Don’t be mistaken though

He’s an absolute smug little shit

He just hides it very well

Teases you in the most unholy of ways only to look at you with confused innocent eyes

Impossible to be mad at istg

Sliced fruit dad™️

Teaches you how to traditionally make tea after he noticed you using tea bags

Genuinely mortified him

Likes to take you on walks around Liyue and tells you stories from his life as a archon

Speaking of which I’m 100% sure he was completely unhinged when he was younger

When he first realised he was falling for you he was the sweetest person

He’d take time to somehow “accidentally” cross paths with you and just so happened to be there if you needed help

Brings you the prettiest bouquets of flowers all personally arranged by him

He has experience to a certain degree

We all know the back story and if you don’t I’m not spoiling uwu

When he decided he had dragged it on for long enough he decided to finally confess

Surprisingly nervous

Man had to keep adjusting his collar and tie and absolutely wasn’t sweating just a little

Made casual conversation while walking with you to that big crystal tree where he kept his traumatised dog

Held both of your hands right as the sun spilled golden sunlight across the mountains and probably end up cupping your cheek with the softest smile ;-;

“I have witnessed many beauties in my time but the warmth of your smile truly is the most awe inspiring sight I ever have and ever will lay eyes upon”

Xiao gets so tired of hearing him brag about you

Even Hu Tao is wearing thin 💀

Doesn’t get jealous

He knows he has nothing to worry about between his trust for you and his not very subtle ego

Tries to be better at earning and holding money just because he wants to treat you!

Doesn’t want to give Childe the luxury of knowing his money is the cause of your happiness

Not that it necessarily is anyway

It’s just the experience of seeing how your face lights up when you try that really expensive food you always wanted or find that adorable plush you’d been eyeing up, on your bed

But of course that being said it’s truly the small things you both enjoy the most

The walks and stories

Teaching him how to be more accustomed to mortal life

He loves to hold your hands or pet your head!

Also loved it when you randomly peck his cheek or nose when he’s being adorably oblivious

Good luck to anyone who tries to hurt you btw

Man will summon his pillar so far up their ass they’d legally be a lollipop

That’s a threat I swear

If you come home hurt he’ll immediately roll his sleeve up and grab the first aid

Probably scolding you for not being careful enough but he really can’t keep the act up for long

He’s just worried ;-;

He’s lived for so long

You don’t even begin to understand how much he adores and admires you for bringing excitement and warmth back to his life~

Pet names are darling/dear/love/sweetheart/jewel.

Childe~

Someone slap him please

I love him but good god

Clingy™️

I know deep down he’s a really nice boy and very soft very caring yes very nice 10/10 boyfriend

But you need to housetrain him

Dead ass would sit on the couch covered in blood and put his feet on the coffee table and get so confused to why you were mad 💀

Do not flirt back

Don’t even attempt it

Not unless you want to encourage him and make it 20x worse

You will nEVER live it down

Is actually very sweet though, if not a little dumb sometimes

Immediately knew he liked you the second you met

How did he go about showing he liked you?

Pestering you constantly

Buys you lots of things too

Have to literally threaten him to stop

Which ofc turns him on hardly works

There’s really no winning with him

That is until you realise you can bring the mighty Tartaglia, 11th of the Fatui Harbingers to his knees by just kissing his cheek or holding his hand

He’s so immune to his own teasing that he forgot to consider that affection is a pretty good way to get people to warm up to you

Jealous boy

Well sort of

He trusts you but he gets easily insecure under his cronchy ego front

Casually talks about the most fucked up shit and then laugh it off

Indirectly asked Zhongli for help confessing

Reluctantly Zhongli finds out your favourite food/hobbies/Ect.

Yeah help him but not Xiao, betrayer

I’m not getting salty at my own headcanons shut up

When he invited you to dinner, you already knew why

He’s not subtle

Quiet is the last thing he can do well without cracking up every now and then

Either that or it was the candlelit table surrounded by roses that had been set up for you near the harbour and a very nervous ginger waiting for you with the biggest, goofiest grin imaginable

He’d be on his very best behaviour ;)

Stares at you in the candlelight before you ask him what’s up in hopes to make the tension a little less overwhelming

“I have won countless battles but none have meant quite as much to me as winning your heart does”

Congrats on become Liyues new power couple

He’d be lying if he didn’t feel at least a little smug seeing people gawk at you both

You’re so pretty together, how can they not?

Some dude tried to hit on you one time while he was drunk

Somehow Dottore magically ended up with a new play thing

When he introduced you to his family he was so happy!!

Tonia, Teucer, and Anthon all adore you!!

He does get a little jealous though when you play house with Teucer and you tease him by purposefully refusing to be his spouse

Good job keeping that act up for too long

Has absolutely sent piles of letters to his family telling them all about you!

His parents probably know pretty much everything there is by now

Though if you have boundaries he’ll respect them :)

He loves to show his affection to you no matter where you are!

Teasing kisses, hand holding, hugging

He’ll often barge into your room and plop his head down on your lap just so you can play with his hair while he talks~

If you fall asleep then he’ll wrap you all up and cuddle you uwu

Had to decide if he should tell you about his occupation

He was so scared that you’d leave him or become scared ;-;

Sure, you and the fatui aren’t exactly on close terms but it’s different with him

When you asked to have some time to think he was terrified

Please give him hugs and reassure him when you return

He’s even seemed to calm down a little since you got together

Of course he’s still a battle crazed maniac that gets hard just off the thought of being challenged

But he’s devoting more of his time to cherishing you and spending time together <3

Gets so excited when you ask to spar him

Does the whole thing where he’ll stand behind you while he shows you how to hold his bow

All steamy and shit

Elbow him

You also have to admit his status has its plus points

You never have to worry about being in danger while on commissions or having enough mora to survive

Romantic idiots 3.0

Though you’re probably a little less unhinged

Probably not by much if you’re dating him tho~

When you’re tired or don’t have the time to deal with his neediness he’ll go full pout mode

All whiny and touchy

Give him a head pat and a kiss that lasts maybe a little longer than it should and he’ll satisfied

Expect for the times he carries you back home to enjoy your attention a little more~

Honestly a 50/50

He always makes sure to tell you how much he loves you and how much happier you’ve made his life~

If you look close enough you might even see a slight sparkle in his deep blue eyes that never used to be there <3

Pet names areeee: cutie/babe/baby/honey/droplet/spark/love

I know xiaos was long enough to be it’s own post but let me have my silly little obsession with my silly little traumatised men!

[russosafehaven]

Overwhelmed

Pairing: Jigsaw!Billy Russo x Fem!Reader

Content: Autistic!Reader, Overwhelmed Reader, R snaps at Billy, Autistic Burnout, Doesn’t follow canon events, Soft!Billy

POV: Second

BR Taglist: @snowkestrel @judig92 @k-marzolf

A/N: This might be my last piece for a while depending on these next few hours go. I’m burnt out and simply cannot function anymore. I need to give myself a recovery period. Burnout sucks and when I think I’m a terrible person better of dead I know I need to step back. My writing is the way I express myself and it feels unalive recently. The pieces aren’t coming out how I’d like them to and it’s bumming me out even more. It’s likely I’ll still write some short drabbles here and there but series like Pieces of Us and In These Streets will most likely be put on hiatus for a little while.

~

“Billy just stop it’s too much goddamnit!”

The moment the harsh words left your lips you instantly regretted it. Instead of staying there to try and fix it you left. Closing your bedroom door behind you with a small bang. Everything was too much, the scents, the noises, the lights. It was all too much. You were burnt out from everything going on and not once were you given a recovery period.

When the words reached Billy’s ears he was shocked. Never once did he think you’d speak to him like that. Words so ripe with frustration. After the accident he didn’t know you, he didn’t remember you. All he knew is what Frank had told him. You were lovers, he knew your tendencies well and you matched well together. All of that was lost thanks to Rawlins.

He was only just getting to remember you again, the shape of your lips. How your body melded against his perfectly. Favourite kind of flowers. All the things were surface level and nothing could prepare Billy for your wild mood swings. It felt like he was walking on eggshells constantly.

You knew it would be a process. When Curtis and Frank first visited Billy after he woke up you asked them not to tell him about you being autistic. It was something you’d do yourself when the time was right. Except it was never the right time. Either Billy was too frustrated with recovery and getting back to normal or you were too overstimulated to explain. The passionate comforting flame you once had was fizzled out. What was once a bonfire is now just kindling.

“Baby please talk to me”

His solemn pleads made your heart ache. Why couldn’t you just tell him the truth? You’re broken, that’s what you thought. Everyone looked at you and all they saw was a puzzle piece. Lost, alone and unfinished. As a kid you used to notice how different you were. The other kids would say you’re giving them dirty looks when in reality your face was just resting. Everyone looked at you and knew you were different. So when you met Billy you felt normal for the first time in your life. He didn’t call your needs weird or unattainable, he just did it.

“I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I CAN’T”

The words left your tongue faster than your mind could process. Whatever happened to logical thinking? Your brain was a haze of then and now. Wondering what would’ve changed if the accident never happened, if you were never autistic.

“Okay, then come out and we can just watch one of your shows or something”

This was the Billy you once knew. Small glimpses of him in his fractured state. You felt bad for missing your Billy, he was gone. Slowly you opened the door. He was confused to see your lights off, a weighted blanket pulled firmly over your body.

“Wait there for a second!”

Before you could even respond Billy had ran off. Turning off all the lights in the apartment and closing the blinds. When you moved in Billy had gotten blackout curtains for you. Planned for moments like this when the world was simply too much. The next step was the small box of stim toys on the coffee table. Billy laid them all out, organising them by colour. He couldn’t explain why but it just felt right. Third step in the plan, hot chocolates. He put them on while completing step four, the show. Flicking through all the different streaming services he found the right one. The two of you were currently watching New Girl. It made Billy wonder if this was normal behaviour for the two of you. Was this life before? As the microwave went off he dashed to grab the drinks. Pouring them into two Brooklyn 99 mugs. As he placed them down on the table he spotted a small plush toy under it. As he tugged it out he noticed how soft it was. Shrugging he placed it on the couch thinking it might help you. He went back to the guest room where you were sleeping during his recovery.

“Now you can come out”

It was all set up like before. The way your Billy always did it. Curtains drawn, lights off, stim toys organised by colour and the hot chocolates. You gave him a warm smile, the guilt setting in once more. As you took a seat on the couch Billy stood still. Not knowing what to do.

“You can sit with me love”

His face turned red, it felt right those words leaving your lips. Although he hadn’t heard them since he woke up. His relationship with you was still recovering and neither of you thought you’d get it back. Yet here you were together. Content in staying where you are.

[lokislittlemidgardian]

Panic attack

Content - little!steve, caregiver!reader, panic attack, age regression, soft toys, bottles, cuddles, colouring in, reassurance, dummy use, brief mention of readers anxiety, Disney films, small mention of blood and violence, not proofread, don't like don't read.

Summary - steve had always had anxiety and it gets worse when hes little, luckily his mommy knows exactly what to do.

Authors note - little!steve is very unappreciated and it makes me sad, I really hope you still enjoy my caregiver!reader works even though the majority of my work will always be little!reader. As always dni if nsfw<3, I hope you enjoy<3

Steve's mission had been brutal today.

There was so much violence and too much blood, normally it didn't bother him but last night he had been on the verge of slipping but he had been interrupted by the strategy meeting.

You were really worried about him.

The second he made his way across the threshold you saw the fight against his regression leave him his eyes getting cloudy.

"Hi baby" you said cheerfully getting up from your seat on the sofa tossing your magazine to the side of you.

Not hearing a response you pressed slightly harder "Stevie baby?" You said gently hearing soft pants coming from his mouth and watching him walk away quickly to your bedroom.

You knew the symptoms of a panic attack having anxiety yourself, you hated seeing your little angel go through it aswell.

Gently opening the door you saw him sitting on the edge of the bed his breathing erratic looking down at the soft carpet.

"Feel weird mama" he sobbed rocking himself slightly tears brimming at his water line. "Oh baby I know it's awful I know your okay" you comforted him stroking his hair gently bringing his head to rest on your right shoulder.

"Whats happening mommy" he asked looking at you desperately, quickly realising that he couldn't make out what was happening to him in this headspace you were quick to explain it to him.

"Sweetheart your having a small panic attack okay, it's alright mommy gets them sometimes to your going to be okay baby" you soothed kissing him gently on the temple.

"Promise" he asked holding shaky pinkie finger out to you "I promise little one" you sighed tracing calming circles over his tactical suit.

His tactical suit, of course.

"Angel why doesn't mommy get you out of the suit do you think that might make you feel a bit better?" After steve nodded his head you unzipped the suit and made your way over to his chest of draws.

Pulling out a blue jumper and some grey jogging bottoms you walked back over to him and quickly got him dressed.

Looking carefully at his features you could tell he still felt on edge but the difference in his behaviour was definitely better.

"Do you feel a bit better now angel?" You cooed kindly down to him "yes mama" he giggled holding your thumb in his hands. "Aww sweetheart, your so lovely" you gasped placing a kiss to the tip of his nose making him giggle harder.

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

A few hours had passed since Steve's panic attack and you had spent the rest of the night taking care of your little boy.

You had seen 2 disney Movies so far and you were now onto the third one "the little mermaid" it was probably Steve's favourite Disney film as it was the first one he watched when he first got out of the ice.

After singing along with him to under the sea you quietly pulled out out his dummy with his symbol imprinted on the shield and gently eased it into his mouth.

Reaching down to your beside table you pulled out a box of colouring in pencils and two separate colouring in books.

"How about you colour in a page and mommy will do one with you baby?" You asked stroking some of the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes away. "Yes please mama" he said behind his dummy with a smile pulling out a red pencil to colour in sebastian the crab.

Halfway though colouring in with him you looked over and saw how happy he was now compared to earlier feeling a warm feeling start in your chest.

This was the first time you had dealt with something like this before with his regression and you were very proud of how you handled it.

"Mama" you heard his small voice say from behind the dummy "yes baby boy?"

"I love you mommy" he said leaning his head onto your shoulder again.

"I love you too little soldier."

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

Taglist - @bootlegmothman420 @littlephia @whippedforhongjoong @youngstarfishdinosaur @patchesofwork @buggyateabug @autisticbeauty @friendlyneighborhoodkillerbunny @sparklybuck @2-gay-possums-in-a-trench-coat @hopelesswritergall @stuckysgirl27 @sleepyprinc3ss @chaotic-little-witch

[kidge-planet]

Kidge summer event

Day 30 and 31 : summer festival and fireworks

Characters: Pidge/Katie holt , Keith Kogane, Shiro, Hunk, Lance, Coran

Pairing: pidge and keith : kidge

post Season8

The summer was ending and giving place to Autumn. All the good memories from this summer were now officially from the passed... And the worst part is that Keith had to go back into space tomorrow... For a long mission.

One year. This is the time the blade will be away from earth. This is the time he would be away from her.

And he was scared that in one year, she'll get to replace him with another man...

But, she wasn't his girlfriend... In fact, she didn't even knew how he felt about her... So that's why she might find herself someone else.

He wouldn't blame her, but it would be painful to him to... You know... See her with another man.

What about asking her to be more than friends?... No. It would be selfish from him. He becomes her boyfriend and then leaves her... She might be happier with another guy that would fully be there for her...

At least, he needed to tell her about how he felt. Without any expectations for after... Just letting her know about his feelings.

TONIGHT, it Shiro insisted on the fact that the whole team should get together one last time. He knew that they would not get together before a while. So, everyone was going to the summer festival tonight. The festival was a Japanese styled one. It was a perfect occasion for Keith.

The guys were now waiting at the entrance of the festival with their traditional outfits ( because yes, Shiro's japanese ass would not let them go to that japanese festival without a traditional outfit...). They were now waiting for Pidge.

"Why does she have to always be late?!" Lance growled.

"She is working hard, it's not her fault..." Hunk tried to calm Lance down.

In this same time, they all turned to see a tiny girl in kimono running towards them.

Man, she looked gorgeous.

Her haires were tied in a bun and her green kimono was making her look way more feminine than the usual.

(I like to use images...)

Keith felt his face getting warmer as she stop in front of them.

"Sorry," She panted after running so much. "I was at the Garrison and my last meeting took longer than expected..."

Shiro sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's alright, Katie. Let's head in now!"

Pidge gently greeted all of her friends with hugs and then came to Keith.

"Hey, Keef!.." She leaned towards Keith to give him the same treatment as everyone: a hug.

He hugged her back, feeling content of the closeness they had in the moment. He could almost feel her heartbeat.

When she let go, she gave him a quick smile before to look away.

Wait... What's going on?.. Have I... Done something wrong?...

Keith thought to himself.

He didn't had the time to think more ever since they were now heading inside of the festival.

It was coloured and full of lights and people. But even in the middle of these people, the only one he could see was her. Her.

The most beautiful sight ever... And after tomorrow, he won't be able to see her again... This hurts so bad...

They visited many booth, played a few games and got themselves a few things.

But while then, Keith couldn't help but realize that she was kind of... Avoiding him. It felt weird. It felt like she was stabing him in the chest.

It was almost midnight when the fireworks were about to start. Everyone settled in the grass and pidge sat a little away from everyone, on her own.

Ok that was his opportunity.

He came and sat next to her.

"Hey there, Pidgey..."

"Ho... Huh, hey." She seemed to be a little annoyed by his presence.

"I huh... Is everything ok?.."

She sighed. "Yes."

"are you going to tell me what's wrong if I really try?.."

"No." She firmly said, no quiting her eyes from the stars above her.

She didn't look upset at him, she just looked a little.. sad?

They stayed silent for a moment. Keith knew that she wasn't about to open to him... And it seemed to not be the best moment to tell her. But he had to tell her. It was now or never...

"Pidge? Can I, like, talk to you about something?..."

She gave a glance towards him before to look back at the sky. "Sure."

"So, huh, this is something important to me. It really is. So if you could at least look at me?"

She sighed and turned towards him. "What is it?.."

"You know... I'm going back to space tomorrow, right?.."

She looked down "Sure."

"And we won't see each other for a year..."

At these words, she got a little mad, "Get to the point!.." a frown had formed on her face.

"I huh, ok, this is something I needed to tell you before I go, I needed to like, free myself from it and... Hum... I don't know, you know, I just want to come clean about... My feelings"

Her frown disappeared, letting her with a confused front.

He continued: "I... It's '.. I mean." He takes a deep breath before to spill it out. "I like you. A lot."

Pidge looked at him, surprised.

"You... What?!" Her voice was cracking.

"I like you... More then friends... But don't worry I don't want anything between us! I know it would be selfish if I wanted to get with you if I'm not even on earth..."

At these words, her frown came back: "That's the selfish part! You tell me your feelings and then just leave me?! What about me?! I like you too! And now that I know that you like me back, I... I won't be able to forget you..."

Keith felt a pain in his heart.

"Forget me?..."

"I don't want to like you that way, Keith, I don't want to feel that pain anymore, I don't want to say goodbye... And I want to be happy that you are going to space, that you will do something that you like... But I can't. I can't because... I'll miss you. I was planning to move on even if this is not what I actually want but now... You just... I..."

"So... You wanted to move on?.."

"I... Don't want to... I have to... It hurts, Keith. That you have to leave. I just thought that, our relation would have never lasted that way."

"I... Understand. I'm sorry. But know that I don't want to move on."

"You should."

"Why?.."

"Because it hurts."

"But you don't want to either, right? You said it."

"Keith I-"

"you don't, right?..."

They stayed silent, looking at each other for a moment.

"I don't."

She said, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Ok, so we'll figure it out. We don't have to move on if we don't want to... Why should we move on from a relation that didn't even concretized?.."

"what do you want to figure out? There is nothing to do about it. You are leaving. We'll be apart." More tears were going down her cheeks.

Keith came closer and wiped them.

"We love each other. Love can break the distance, I guess. Maybe we should give it a try and... See if it works?"

"So now, you want to get with me and to leave? You said that it was selfish."

"Well, maybe not, after all. You know, I'll call you every days and... I'll be there without actually being there..."

She thought a moment.

"Keith... I really don't think it is a good idea..."

"Ho.."

"I think it is better that we stay friends yet. What if we promise something to each other, but, like, what if it doesn't work because of the distance?.. let's see if our 'friendship' keep it up with the distance, first. What do you think?"

"I... That means you can see other mans?..." Keith asked, worried.

"technically... But doesn't mean I want to... And, it works for you to. You can see other girls..."

"I don't want to."

They stayed silent.

"This is hard. But let's try that."

Keith sighed. He sure felt pretty bad about the situation but at least, at the end of all that, they might end up together?... It was better then just not being together at all or not being sure of how it will end up for them... At least, there, they could experiment and know if it would work or not.

She smiled at him....

Then a sound of explosion resouned. It was the fireworks.

"Can I kiss you?.." Keith towards her again.

They looked at it for a while.

She nodded, smiling

That was the moment he had waited for so long... He leaned to kiss her and, when their lips met, it felt like the sounds around them had desapeared... Like every thing else had disappeared...

He let her lips go and looked at her, his eyes sparkling.

"I love you. Even... If we're still friends..."

She giggled. "I... Love you too."

A/N: I'm completely tired, sorry if it seems bad ( like, the story itself)... Also, I am sad to announce that this is the last day of the kidge summer event... I'll do a post about it!!!! See you!

[acourtofsnakes]

Mythos, Chapter 4 - Steven Grant/Marc Spector x F!Reader

gif by @marvelgifs

Summary: Your days seem to be getting stranger and stranger, first the voice in your head, then Steven going missing, and now the strange man with the weird tattoo. Just to add to that, you stumble across something, or rather someone that you weren't supposed to meet.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, brief violence, discussion of DID (i tried to keep this brief for now, but I apologise if i have anything in correct, please let me know) smidgen of angst, a few fleeting mentions of food/drink, doubting your own perception of things, little bit of Marc x Reader, Steamy Makeouts - kissing, neck kissing/biting, grinding, a bit of dirty talk in a sense? kinda hot and heavy in a sweet Steven way, allusions/mention of sex

Words: 7.8k+

Permanent Tags: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood @kaylee-krystal @queenofthefaceless @gallowsjoker @kirsteng42 @rosiefridayrogersunday @salome-c @amywritesthings @meganlpie @sgt-morgan

Steven/Marc Tags: @drebi-san @graciexmarvel @kingtwhiddleston

Oscar Tags: @the-little-ewok @dailyreverie

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Series Playlist

“There’s chaos in you too.“

What exactly did that weirdo mean by that? 

There’s chaos in you? Did that mean there was something wrong with you? 

Don’t go down that road. 

It didn’t help that you’d already been thinking that lately, what with the voices in your head and seeing things. Maybe there was something wrong. Maybe you needed a break… Or a step back. 

But even the mere thought of that caused an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You loved your job, and always tried your hardest to maintain your own peace of mind with it. 

And how could you step away when Steven was so obviously going through something too? 

He needed you. 

Especially since you had an inkling that the man was referring to him as well. After all, you’d witnessed him do the trick with the cane, and he said there was chaos in you too. 

So he meant Steven? 

That voice, that golden ancient one had confirmed that when he told you Steven was in danger… So, was he in danger from that man downstairs? Or was this all a part of something bigger that you didn’t understand but were somehow already tied into?

A knock on your door broke through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present and you looked over toward it, blinking a few times before calling, “Come in.”

Then a head of curls poked through the door before being followed by the beautiful face of your… Steven. “Hello, love, how’s your morning going?”

He was carrying two cups and a bag in his hands, clearly having have run to the coffee shop over the road before coming here. 

At the mere sight of him, a million butterflies exploded in your chest, floating all through your veins and skin, filling you with a joy reserved only for him. “Steven… Hi.” You moved further to face him in your chair, then rose from it, “Come in, come in… Are you on your break?” 

You walked over to him, taking the bag from him and walking with him to the comfy sofa and coffee table in the corner of your office, in front of the big glass windows that allowed you to look upon the Greek department, but didn’t let anyone down there see in here.  

Steven nodded, curls bouncing, and he set down the drinks before dropping onto the sofa, “Yeah, I am. I thought you might want a break… I remembered you said last night that the coffee shop did your new favourite drink, so I got it for you. It’s right, isn’t it?” He picked it up and held it out, eyes twinkling and a little colour on his cheeks at the mention of last night. 

You nodded quickly and eagerly, moving round the table and sinking into the sofa next to him, “Yeah it is, you got it spot on. Thanks, Steven.” You scooped said drink up, resting your head on the back of the sofa with a long, satisfying sigh before taking a long tip of the drink. 

There was a single beat of silence before you felt Steven’s gentle hands wrap around your ankles, coaxing your legs up onto his lap and he just immediately started to massage them, like he knew they were starting to ache, “You look stressed, love. Is everything okay? Can I do anything to help?” 

You took a deep breath when he rubbed at your ankles, sinking deeper into the couch with a soft hum, “I’m okay… I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.” You bit your lip thoughtfully, then opened your eyes again, having not realised they were closed. “That guy earlier…” 

Steven’s hands froze on your ankles for a moment, before carrying on, “What about him?” There was a sort of edge to his voice, a trace of something that made you think of that other American man. 

You lifting your head and looked at him carefully, “Who is he? You looked freaked out when you were speaking to him. He is creepy.”

He chewed the inside of his lip and shook his head slightly, “Just… Some guy that I saw the other day. He mistook me for someone else and he won’t leave me alone.” Then he blinked, like it occurred to him what you said and suddenly, his mind was laser focused on you, “Wait, he spoke to you?” That edge to his usually soft voice was still there, and you thought you even saw a flicker of something dangerous in those chocolate eyes. 

You nodded, fiddling with the straw of your cup, “He… said some weird shit. Then balanced his weird crocodile cane on my arm and said, ‘There’s chaos in you too.’ I don’t know what he was on but clearly something is wrong with him.” You laughed, but the noise sounded strained even to your own ears. 

Steven copied your laugh, but you saw the way his throat bobbed, and his skin dropped a shade of colour or two, “Yeah, what a plonker. Maybe he thought we were someone else…” He bit his lower lip, eyebrows lowering as he gazed down at your feet in his lap. His fingers played with the laces of your boots, an air of unsettlement oozing from him. 

You weighed up the options in your mind, how to approach this and decided to try and make him - and yourself – feel better. 

“So… I really really had fun on our date last night.” Your voice was soft, sweet and sung with the truth, those butterflies immediately coming back at the mere mention of your beautiful evening. 

It worked like a charm, his expression smoothing out and lifting into that puppy dog glee that had first made you fall for him, “Me too. I really, really did; it was definitely the best date I’ve ever been on.” He pulled a face, “Not that I’ve ever actually been on many, but still.” 

His face was thoughtful for a second and you just... still couldn’t understand it. “I honestly don’t know why not, Steven. I mean… Look at you. You’re gorgeous. You’re so sweet, and funny and the things you know… The intelligence you have is fascinating, especially the stories you tell and the way you get so excited when you tell them. And you’re selfless, you’re thoughtful…” You trailed off, realising you were beginning to ramble three years’ worth of adoration for him. 

Besides, Steven was staring at you with an expression like… You were his everything. His eyes were soft but intense, lips slightly parted with wonder as if he couldn’t quite believe his luck. He looked at you like you were his favourite legend come to life, sitting before him and entirely his. 

You blinked, colour coming to your cheeks, and you set your drink on the coffee table, “Steven?” 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked almost before you’d finished talking, chocolate eyes drifting to your lips before coming back to your eyes. His breathing was a little ragged already his hand ever so faintly trembling on your ankle. The look burning in his expression was one you were quickly realising you’d seen a few times over the years… Whenever he looked at you. 

Oh. 

You looked over his face, glancing at his own lips before nodding, “Yes. Yes, you can kiss me.” You swallowed, words breathy and it suddenly felt very warm in here, “Kiss me, Steven. Please.” 

Steven set his own drink down, his hand sliding up your calf as he leant in. It paused at your knee, before he lifted that warm hand to your jaw and then his lips came down upon yours. 

It was immediately like being granted air after being starved of oxygen, like the first sip of tea on a cold day. You didn’t even care if those feelings were cliché, they were true. 

The feeling spreading through your bones as soon as you tasted his lips the lingering sweetness of the drink with the faintest hint of lavender – it ignited you. 

You lifted your own hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as your lips whispered against his own, trying to keep it calm and sweet despite the fire beginning to pound into your blood. You didn’t want to scare him off, or pressure him into anything but Gods, you wanted him. 

And maybe, maybe he felt the exact same because his kisses came with a little more pressure now, his head tilting further into yours and when you felt his hand twitch on your jaw, you realised maybe he was holding back too. That he wanted more but equally didn’t want to push you either. Or maybe he needed a little help. 

You slid your hand round into his hair, brushing the tip of your tongue across his lips, a silent question where he decided what happened. 

He didn’t even hesitate. 

His lips parted immediately, letting you in and you groaned in unison at the first real taste of each other, the warm brush of his tongue on yours and the way his thumb brushed along your cheekbone like he needed constant contact, despite having it all. 

With every second that passed, he seemed to grow a fraction more confident, the brush of his tongue becoming bolder and bolder, until he shifted his body weight, sending you backwards to lay down against the cushions, following you down with a leg shifting to rest between yours. 

A surprised little moan rumbled against his mouth from your chest, and he quickly pulled away, misreading the noise, “Shit, I’m sorry, was that not okay?” He looked between your eyes, his hand still cupping your jaw, eyes a trace concerned he’d overstepped. 

You shook your head quickly, “No, no, no it was more than fine, Steven. Just surprised me that’s all.” You laughed a breathy laugh, trying not to think about where his leg was – you didn’t need to push him that far right now. “It’s good. Really. Don’t think too much, okay?” You looked between his eyes, brushing back his curls, “Don’t use this, use this.” You pressed your hand to his chest, “You know what to do, just find it. Don’t overthink it.” 

He nodded quickly, eyes already coming back to your lips again and a second later, his tongue was tracing the edge of yours, a gruff hum of appreciation echoing into your mouth when you fought him for dominance. 

There was a split-second hesitation in him before he heeded your words, setting more of his weight on you so he could push you deeper into the cushions, claim your mouth as his own. 

And maybe those books paid off, because then he pulled back from the kiss, dragging your lower lip between his teeth slightly before planting open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, his hands dancing over your body like he didn’t know where to put them. 

They cupped your jaw, then your shoulder, then your ribs and back again. 

You gasped in a breath, “Easy. Relax, you’re doing fine.” You trailed a hand down his arm to his wrist, moving his hand so it rested on the side of your neck, the other to your ribs and then you slid your own back into his hair as he made his way to your neck. 

He used the hand you’d placed on your neck to tilt your head to the side, pressing those kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck, teasing his teeth just slightly until he found one particular spot that sent electricity sparking through your blood and coiling in your belly. 

You groaned, head tilting further to yield to him, and you couldn’t help the slight rise of your hips, “Right there.” 

This… vocalisation, this guiding him… it was hot. Empowering. 

Steven moaned brokenly into your skin as your hips rose, brushing against his and he focused on that sensitive point you responded to, sucking gently at the skin and running his tongue over the mark. 

He was a quick learner. 

A really quick learner. 

He dropped his weight completely, pressing into you in every single place that made that heat grow. He pushed his thumb underneath your chin, keeping you there and you both felt, and heard him mumble into your skin, “Does that feel good?” 

It was a genuine question, but this communication was something different to what you experienced before and it made everything so much more intense, “So good.” You breathed the words, moaning softly again as he tugged at the skin and licked and nipped his way down to your collarbones. 

At first, he danced the line of the fabric, curls brushing your jaw but you needed more. 

“You can undo it, if you want to.” Please. You needed him, whatever he wanted to give you. 

He lifted his head for a second, his eyes snatching your breath with his dilated and dark they were. His hair was already a mess, drunk on you, “Are you sure, love?” 

You nodded frantically, bringing one of your legs up to plant your foot against the sofa cushion to trap him in against you, “Positive.” 

He flashed a jaw-droppingly wicked grin at you and then quickly undid a few of the buttons, patting the fabric so he could continue those same swipes of his tongue, the same intense scrape of his teeth on your collarbones. 

At the same time, you undid a few of his own buttons, sliding your hand down over his spine, roaming the warm skin of his shoulders. 

You could feel toned muscle beneath the skin, and you wondered if he worked out, but he’d never mentioned it. Either way, there was wicked strength there moving underneath your hands, and your mouth watered at the thought of seeing them bare and looming over you. 

Steven licked - a little tentatively at first - a bold stripe up your throat back to your jaw, breathing as uneasy as yours. 

Wanting to give him something in return, you kissed him before he got the chance, sucking at his lower lip and near devouring the man in an effort to show him how much you loved him. 

Your hand slid to cup just underneath his jaw, your thumb pressing into the skin as he had to you, giving him everything. 

He deserved it. 

He deserved this touch, this worship and adoration that you were oh too willing to give. 

You dragged your lips away from the messy kiss, ducking your head and returning the favour of those biting, sucky kisses to the taut skin of his throat. He tasted divine, and he was so damn responsive.

Steven groaned above you, his head tilting up to the ceiling and his hand slipped round to cup the back of your head, “Ah, that feels…” 

“Good?” You murmured into his skin, drunk on the taste of him and by sheer subconscious instinct, you rolled your hips slightly - and was reward with the hard pressure of him pressing down into you. 

You made a little huff off surprise, both from how much he was loving this and from, well. How… gifted he felt. “Shit, Steven...”

The man made a noise that you felt between your thighs, hand tightening into your hair and he choked, “Can you - can you do that again, if that’s okay?” His cheeks were flushed but you were only too happy to oblige. 

You ducked back into his neck, rocking your hips up to his and it wasn’t until you licked your way back into his mouth and pulled him back down with you that he pressed back with his own hips, meeting each of your movements with rolling pressure of his own. 

Dear God. 

You might very well burst into flames in your own office.

A knock on the door suddenly brought you both crashing back to reality, painfully so and Steven startled above you, lifting his head to look at the door, “Oh! Uh, we should – there’s someone – uh, shit, I’m sorry-” He looked down at where you were quite thoroughly wrecked beneath him, his own eyes bright, his own lips swollen. 

You chuckled, even as bitter disappointment flooded your system, “Hey, hey, it’s fine.” Colour dusted high on your cheeks and down your neck, and you gently eased him back to sit up, following him up, “Just a second!!” You called to the visitor outside, your voice sounding off-kilter and husky. 

Steven laughed again, a similar unevenness to his voice as he rose from the couch and pulled you with him. He then lifted his hands to help put your shirt back in place, and smooth down your hair where his hands had been through it. “I got a little carried away there.” He grinned bashfully, his entire expression glowing like the sun had come out and he still couldn’t stop touching you – or looking at your lips. 

God, you loved him. 

You returned the favour, doing the few buttons of his shirt back up and trying to tame his wild curls, “Me too… I kinda wish I’d put a do not disturb sign on the door now.” You cocked your head just a little as you smoothed his collar, peering up through your eyelashes as that slow lick of heat curled through your blood again. 

Steven made a rough noise in the back of your throat, gazing down his nose at you, eyes blown out and nearly pitch black, “Me too, actually. Maybe I’ll remember that for next time.” 

You raised a brow, hands still on his collar and your gaze found his lips again, “Next time, huh?” In just mere hours from last night, you’d managed to encourage him not to think, to just rely on his own instincts and now look at him. 

He hummed again, lifting a large, warm hand to cup your jaw once more, thumb tracing your still swollen lower lip and he ducked his head into yours. 

Only for the door to swing open, and Hallie’s voice to come dancing in, “Honestly, I know you’re a busy woman but as your best friend, I expect-” She paused, taking note of the sight in front of her, of you and Steven still wrapped up in one another, clothes still messy and faces flushed. Then a wicked smirk crossed her lips, a glint in in her eye, “Oh, I’ve interrupted something haven’t I?” 

You and Steven jumped apart a few inches, staring at her like a deer in the headlights. Your lips parted to speak, but your head was still scrambled from that make-out. “Uh…”

Steven’s brain seemed to catch up with him and he flushed even deeper, “I’m, uh, I should get back. Donna is probably wondering where I am.” He looked back to you, those dark eyes immediately softening, “I’ll catch up with you later, love, yeah?”

A quick nod answered him, and you gave him a melty smile, “Yeah, okay…” Your voice was still all breathy, and you could practically feel the seconds counting down until Hallie exploded. 

Steven returned your smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he quickly brushed your lips again before hurrying from the room… A little off balance. “Bye, Hallie.” 

Hallie kept her eyes on you, smirking wickedly still, “Yeah, bye Steven, it was lovely to see you.” She closed the door when he was gone, crossing her arms. 

You cleared your throat, running a hand through your hair and you laughed a little, “Go on then. Let it out.” 

“Oh my fucking god.”

You really didn’t mind working late. 

You got to walk through the museum with no one else in there, just the few other late workers and the security guards. The main lights were turned off, leaving just the mood lightning and cabinet lights to cast little pools of glowy warmth here and there. 

Everything had a different air to it, a touch of the mysterious magic like maybe it could come alive, and something other walked these halls at night. 

You sipped from your mug, the warm tea spreading little waves of comfort across your body as you typed away, finishing up the last of the reports and plans for your new exhibition. 

Everything was finalised and ready to go, this was just the sort of boring paperwork side before you could get to the super fun stuff of it all being made up. 

A quick glance at the clock showed it to be almost 10pm, which meant Steven would almost be finished his work too on inventory. 

Perfect. You could round up your work, and then go down to meet him to go home together. 

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit the fact most of your day had been spent daydreaming about your next date with Steven. Or what had happened on the couch earlier. 

Oh god, that was… Yeah. That was something else. 

You had always suspected he was a virgin, and it never once bothered you. Not once. 

Over the years, you’d caught him reading a spicy book or two, ones you’d read yourself or that you hadn’t heard of (and immediately gone to buy.) So he had… The instinct in him. You just needed to break him out of that shyness gently. 

There’d always been a part of you that was drawn to the idea of being the one to teach him, to show him what can feel good.

And that make out earlier only fuelled that desire. 

He was a quick learner when he let go of his head, following the small encouragements you’d given him until he was the one leaving you breathless. 

You ran a hand down your neck, chasing the ghost of his lips on your skin and a little echo of heat flushed your body as you recalled the pressure of his hips. 

Yeah, you needed more of him. You needed to show him what else he could do, and what you could do to him. 

In short, you were somehow even more painfully in love with him than you had been for the past three years. Now that you had gotten a taste of what it was like to be with him, to learn these sides of him that you hadn’t even seen before. 

Whatever was happening to him – and to you, for that matter – you wanted to help, if he’d let you. You didn’t want him to suffer alone, you wanted to be right there with him, fighting whatever this thing was. 

There was a sudden noise, like a whimpering bark, that echoed down the hall, breaking you from your thoughts. 

You blinked, looking toward the door with your brow furrowed, because that sounded an awful lot like a dog, which couldn’t be right. Only guide dogs were allowed in, and surely, you’d have known before the museum closed if someone had lost their guide?

Maybe you were tired, and it was time to call it a night. 

You made a thoughtful little hum, turning back to your screen and you began to work on finishing up your closing statement about the new exhibition for the guidebooks. 

There it was again. 

A whimper, like a dog in pain. 

You couldn’t be imagining it, there most certainly was a dog roaming the halls of the museum and it was evidently hurt. 

You shut down your computer, slipping your phone into your back pocket in case you needed to call a vet and then you made your way from the office, padding down the hallway to the door that led to the main part of the museum. 

Your footsteps made soft echoes on the glossy floor as you roamed through the dark silhouettes of the Greek department. You searched every corner, called out for the injured animal but the whimper still sounded further away. Perhaps the Egyptology sector?

It was only a short walk across a hallway and down some steps to Steven’s favourite area, and you called out for the animal again, a little tingle running down the back of your neck. 

The museum was empty, but it felt… off. Like a presence was roaming the halls. A dangerous one. 

The room was lit only from the cabinets, making little pools of light float between patches of shadow. It was definitely eerie, which was strange because normally you were never creeped out by the museum at night. But it felt different now. 

You tiptoed round a corner, only for your feet to bump into something soft and heavy on the floor. A small squeak escaped your lips as you leapt back, and you peered down at the offending object… Only to see something you recognised. 

Steven’s bag. 

What was Steven’s bag doing here and why was it torn to shreds?

Something was most definitely wrong here. 

You sucked in a breath when you heard that howling shriek, but this time it echoed from the staff bathrooms off the next corridor. 

Feeling like the main character in a horror movie, and against your better judgment, you followed that noise once more, using your staff card to gain access to the corridor in question. 

It was a mess. There were cabinets knocked over which you had to near climb to get past, papers scattered on the floor and if you looked down… Were they claw marks in the marble tiles? 

“What the actual fuck?” You breathed the words under your breath, moving further and then your feet began to splash in the water that was slowly spilling from the bathroom. That was probably the result of the half-shattered sink sitting on the floor too. 

Oh, add that to the wet sound of something impacting flesh and bone – cracking bone. 

And wailing. That totally didn’t sound like a dog anymore. 

Okay. 

That’s… Okay. 

Still, you took a deep breath, cursing your curiosity and you stuck your head around the corner. 

And nothing could have prepared you for what you saw. 

The bathroom was a mess, water spraying everywhere, dust and tile littering the floor, those deeper gouge marks like something was dragged across the ground – 

And that something happened to be the huge, snarling beast with long teeth and a dripping maw. 

It looked… kind of like a werewolf? Except its eyes were glowing white and there were tattered scraps of fabric bound around it’s body, like bandages. Or rather, what was left of its body. 

The wails and screams were courtesy of the man looming over him, clad head to toe in white. 

Well, he might have been a man. 

He may well have been a god. 

He was tall, broad shoulders accentuated by the cape that was pristine despite the water and blood on the floor. 

There was a cowl covering his face as he slammed bound fists into the creature, one hand clutching at a glinting crescent shaped blade that opened deep slices in the creatures flesh. 

You had absolutely no idea what the fuck was happening, but you knew two things in that moment. 

1.     You had stumbled upon something you weren’t sure you were supposed to see. 

2.     This man… This god, whatever he was… He was dangerous. Deadly. But beautiful. And you wanted to draw him. Power rolled from him in waves, promising vengeance and violence to any who opposed him. It was magnetic, like a physical touch licking over your skin, chasing up your body and whispering into your very soul. It was ancient, just like that voice that seemed to follow you, and it was alluring. 

You watched as this man slammed the blade into the creature’s throat, ending its wail with a choke as more dark blood bubbled up from between the yellowed teeth. 

Maybe you made a noise, or maybe the man became aware of his surroundings now that his target was dead, because suddenly, his head snapped up and looked directly at you. 

His eyes.

They were pools of glowing white light, like moonlight given a true form and you couldn’t look away from them, caught in their snare like prey in the eyes of a predator… But you strangely didn’t feel like you were in danger. 

Sure, you’d just witnessed this powerful being evidently tear an equally ancient creature to shreds, as well as the halls of the museum, but that voice in your mind didn’t speak of fear from him. 

The man straightened, turning to face you and he was suddenly coming to you with powerful, confident strides like he meant business. 

Okay, maybe this situation as severely misjudged – 

With no warning, the hood fell back and the bands around his face shrunk back into themselves of their own accord, drawing back from this man’s face and revealing…

Revealing a messy tangle of dark curls, plush lips, parted in utter surprise, tan skin and a pair of rich chocolate eyes that were lowered into a frown of disbelief and shock. 

“Steven?!” 

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. 

This… This was Steven? Your sweet, soft Steven who shrunk away from the loud parts of the world, had just torn apart some creature with his bare hands? 

The man who you’d guided earlier in kissing and touching you, those hands that had trembled ever so slightly… Had done this?

Steven stopped dead right in front of you, spine straightening, and it was then that you realised your mistake. 

This wasn’t Steven. 

This man didn’t stand like him. He stood like he was ready to spring for someone’s throat, strong shoulders thrown back, jaw tight, eyebrows lowered and intense. His entire demeanour was imposing and dangerous, daring his opponent to step forward and fight him, to test that knifes edge and realise they would never come out on top. 

No, this wasn’t Steven. But you had met him before, last night, for those few seconds in the restaurant when it had come to the bill. 

You blinked a few times, taking a step back, head tilting up to look at him now he was so close, “You’re not Steven, are you?” 

Not-Steven smirked, cocking his head as his dark eyes flicked between yours, testing your response, “No, sweetheart. I’m not Steven.” His words were drawled, cocky arrogance but even you could detect the air of apprehension beneath, like he wasn’t sure if you’d scream and run away, or just pass out. 

Honestly, you weren’t sure yourself, because that voice, that rumbly American accent... It scratched at your brain and suddenly your face fell in realisation, “You.” This man was the one who had called you from Steven’s phone to tell you stop looking. 

He stared at you, waiting. Watching. 

And then your fist was flying toward his head, a knee-jerk reaction that you couldn’t explain but it felt right. 

There was a twitch to his lips, and his hand shot up, rough fingers curling around your fist just inches from his jaw, “Easy, sweetheart. Take a breath.” 

You snarled, “Don’t you dare patronise me, I don’t even know who the hell you are. You yanked at your hand, lifting your other to try and slap him, anything really even though you knew this reaction was pointless… and a little unexpected. 

You were having a strange few weeks, okay.

His other hand flew up and caught your wrist, and he grinned, like he was enjoying this, enjoying this sparring, “If you stop trying to fight me, maybe you’d let me explain?” He cocked his head, raising an eyebrow in an infuriatingly cocky gesture. 

You made a noise of frustration at being caught again, but then you realised. If both his hands were occupied… he had nothing to protect other places. 

So you smirked right back at him, bringing your knee up between his legs. Hard. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

The not-Steven groaned, staggering back and almost going to his knees, the light catching on the crescent blades sewn against his chest, “Jesus- seriously??” He ducked his head, working to catch the breath you just kneed out of him. 

You had to admit, the suit was beautiful. And it did hug his shoulders most deliciously… But now wasn’t the time. 

You watched him hunch over, breathing heavily yourself, head spinning, and you weren’t sure if you were having a panic attack or not, but you forged ahead anyway, “Where is Steven? Who are you?” You gestured to the now dead creature, “What is that… thing and why the hell is this all happening?” The pitch of your voice rose at the end, but you chose to ignore it. 

The man sucked in another deep breath, shaking his head a few times and then he straightened. That expression was even more serious now, like he was suddenly done playing. He looked behind him, then back at the door and he grabbed your hand, “Not here.” He started to walk out of the door, pulling you along with him. 

At first, you tried to resist, but the tiled floor was wet and provided no purchase to plant your feet, so you were left stumbling after him. “Will you just tell me where Steven is, please?” You pulled at your hand, trying not to think about how his was big, warm and strong where it encased yours, much like your boyfriend… Who looked exactly like him. 

You shot a glance up to the side of his head, following the line of his ear and jaw with your eyes. There was no doubt about it, it was definitely the same body. Just not the same man. 

Your mind worked as not-Steven guided you back through the museum, looking around before heading down a corridor to a large window, making for it and still pulling you along – somewhat gently. 

He shot a glance out of the window, then slid it open, “Okay, out you go.” He let go of your hand and looked at you expectantly. 

A laugh almost worked its way free of your lips, but instead you just crossed your arms, staring at him with an impassive expression. 

Like hell were you going anywhere until he told you what was going on. 

The man’s jaw muscles rippled, his hand tightening on the window frame for a second, much to is squeaking protest, “Look, I promise you I will explain everything as soon as we’re safe, okay? But we need to leave now.” He looked between your eyes, his expression so very intense. 

That brush of warmth danced across the back of your neck again, and that rich, ancient voice whispered in your ear, “Go with him. No harm will come to you. Go.” Then the pressure in your head was gone. 

Well… That voice had kept you safe so far, right? And as much as you didn’t want to be one of those people who just randomly follows along… You knew this man – and your voice – were right. 

And so, with a sigh, you dropped your arms, walking to the window and nimbly slipping through it and dropping to the grass a couple of metres below you. 

You stepped back, just in time to see the man lower himself down, holding onto the edge of the windowsill so he could pull the window back into place and then drop down silently beside you. 

He turned to you, the moonlight bouncing over those curls and across his cheekbones, “We need to go to your apartment.” 

Right in front of your eyes, the bands and slight golden armour of the suit swept back into… Nowhere. It just slipped away, leaving him standing there in the same soft blue jacket, dark trousers and trainers that… Steven was wearing earlier. The same clothes you very well nearly tore from his body.

Why was he wearing Steven’s clothes?

A protest formed, lips parting but he cut you off again, “Do you want to know what’s happening or not?” 

He had you there. 

You needed a holiday. 

With a roll of your eyes, and a muttered comment, you began to lead the way back home, brooding, caped Not-Steven walking alongside you. 

~~

“I like your apartment.” His voice rumbled softly across the too-quiet atmosphere of your living room, and you swung round to face him. 

“Okay, enough. I followed you without questions, I let you into my home. Tell me what the fuck is going on, and who the fuck you are... And why you’re wearing my boyfriend’s clothes. Now.” Your hands curled and unfurled into fists at your sides, eyes watching him intently. 

The man raised his eyebrows, “You always talk like that to strangers, or am I just an exception?” He leaned against the arm of the sofa, picking up your stuffed Highland cow plushie that lived on the sofa – and your bed. 

You watched him pick it up, eyes narrowing in a defensiveness over the fluffy toy, “Stop being an asshole before I call the police. Or stab you. I have plenty of knives.” You really weren’t joking. You even knew which knife you would use.

Or you would just take one of those pretty Crescent Moons and use that instead. 

He chuckled but then the laughter died from his face, being replaced with a sigh as he straightened the cow’s horns. “My name is Marc. Marc Spector… And you have met me before, you just haven’t realised it.” 

Marc Spector. 

An oddly fitting name. You couldn’t explain how, but it just seemed to fit his demeanour. “What do you mean, I’ve met you before but not realised? I don’t…” You frowned, tugging at your sleeve, “I’m not really sure what’s going on, and I don’t want to misinterpret anything.” 

“Or punch me again?” Marc looked up at you from under his brows, his head still tilted down, a little smile coming back to his lips. 

You couldn’t help the very soft laugh, more a huff of breath, “Or punch you again. I should at least give you a chance to explain, I guess that’s only fair.” You backed up to lean against the desk and you motioned for him to proceed. 

Marc took a second, like he was working himself up to speaking, “I… We - me and Steven, uh…:” His fumbling already seemed out of character despite barely knowing him, “It’s called DID. Dissociative Identity Disorder. That’s why Steven has no recollection of the times I’m fronting; he doesn’t know so he can’t keep control himself.” He scratched the back of his neck, “Usually things are quite separate but lately it’s been harder to… Find a balance and stop them bleeding into each other. He doesn’t really know I exist, either.” 

The name rung a bell, calling back to when you’d taken a few psychology classes in university to help you understand your own mind better. It had always fascinated you, how there could be different people, different lives all in one singular body. You nodded, “And the suit?”

“I can’t tell you everything, the how’s and the whys… For your safety more than anything but…” He turned his head to look at you, reading your expression, your eyes and then he opened his mouth again, “I am the avatar of the Egyptian God of the moon, Khonshu. I’m his fist of vengeance. His Moon Knight.” It came out in one breath, like saying it all at once made it easier. 

Um. Okay. 

You blinked a few times, staring back at him as the world tumbled over in your mind. 

Back on your weekly exchanges of information, Steven had told you about Khonshu, how he had been cast from the Ennead for nearly exposing the Gods. 

But that… that wasn’t true, was it? 

You were really doubting this, after everything you’d been through lately?

But suspecting and knowing were two completely different things. And it wasn’t like Marc’s words didn’t have proof. You’d seen a creature of legend; you’d watched his suit disappear back into nothing. You had a voice in your head that you knew in your blood wasn’t human. 

Marc was still staring at you, expression unreadable, “Uh, sweetheart, I kinda need you to work with me here. Say something, please.” 

You took a deep breath, before puffing it back out again, “Okay.”

Marc blinked this time, “Okay? That’s all you have to say? You’re not… You don’t have questions? You don’t want to punch me again for being a virtual stranger and telling you I work for a Moon God? You love the moon.” Strange that he knew that. Or maybe not strange at all. 

“Oh, believe me, I have plenty of questions. I just don’t know where to begin with them… And after the few weeks I’ve had, I’m in no position to question something like this.” You rubbed at your eyes, his words still echoing around your head, “Does Steven know about this? Who you are, what you can do?”

His demeanour changed just subtly. So tiny you might have missed it. He grew stiffer, his eyes a fraction more intense, “No. He doesn’t. And he’s not going to know.” 

Now it was your turn to stand up straight, “What do you mean he’s not going to know? You can’t keep this from him. It’s not like you can hide the evidence when he wakes up in the middle of who knows where next to the body of… whatever that thing was.”

“A jackal.” He murmured it, then shook his head and he rose from the sofa, “I can keep him from it, it’s the only way to keep him safe. And you.” He pointed at you, the cow still in his other hand, “You will not tell him.” 

The tone of voice immediately got your back up, and just like that you were angry again, “Don’t tell me what to do. You can’t just tell me something as huge as that and expect me to keep it from the other person sharing that body. You know what it’s doing to him?” You stepped forward, not wanting to lash out but… This was crazy, “He thinks he’s losing his mind. He doesn’t sleep. He keeps himself awake night after night because he’s afraid of his dreams… Only they aren’t dreams, are they?” 

Marc said nothing for a moment, watching you and he suddenly looked so wrecked, you were afraid he’d drop to the ground. But then it was gone, his face hardening again, “I’m sorry. I really am. But he’s already got himself tangled up in it enough that his life is in danger. Tell him to let it go, please. For his own safety, and yours.” He set the cow back down on the sofa, patting its head and then he moved across to the window, opening it straight away. 

“Where are you going now?” You watched him, your head starting to spin again, conflict rising in you because you wanted to tell steven, but you knew that danger, whatever it was, it was real. But you just didn’t understand. 

Marc didn’t turn around as he slid the window open wide enough for his body to drop through, “I’ll see you again soon, sweetheart. I’m sorry you’re caught up in this.” He curled his hands into fists, head tilting back, and those bandages came from nowhere again, curling and wrapping around his sculpted body. The cowl flipped back over his head, and he cast you one final glance with those glowing, moonlight eyes, before he dropped through the window.

You raced to the window as he just… just leapt out of it like it was nothing. Like there wasn’t a drop that could break his neck. 

Of course, he was already gone. Deep into the night to go and fight whatever else had crawled from the pages of legends and decided to come and find him. 

“I’m really going insane, aren’t I?” Your voice was flat as you lifted your eyes to your own reflection in the glass, like maybe you could see where the madness began. 

And there it was. 

There was a golden shimmer rapidly beginning over your shoulders, like a face beginning to form but it was distorted in the glow and the glass of the window. 

You didn’t move, didn’t dare even breathe because you sure as hell didn’t have an explanation for this but after the events of your life lately, how could you question it?

The shimmer settled into an impression of a male’s face, bordered in that golden glow, “You’re not going insane, little bird. I told you that Steven wasn’t okay. That he was in danger.” 

It was that voice. 

His voice. The one from the lift that sounded like ancient sunshine and music. 

The face was mostly obscured, but you could just make out a strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, a tangle of curly hair.

There was a feeling in your chest, one you were starting to recognise now that the initial shock of this voice was beginning to wear. It was… a sense of belonging, almost. Of this being right, maybe even destined. You just had to figure out exactly what it meant. 

“I just don’t understand how all of this is possible. What this all means. I’ve spent years researching legends and mythology, and now it’s coming to life around me and I don’t know how to take it. And after what that guy said earlier, there’s chaos in me – what does that even mean?”

You could almost make out a soft smile in the shimmering reflection of the man, “You take it as you have always accepted things like this. With grace and curiosity. It’s not the first time you’ve seen this kind of magic and myth, little bird. And every time you have, you have accepted it without even being aware of what you’re seeing. It just so happens that this time, you are right in the middle of it.” He was quiet for a second again, “And there is chaos in you, darling, but that chaos is magic. It’s power. It’s light.”

You couldn’t help the scoff, “I think if I’d seen an Egyptian god of the moon before, I would have remembered.” But even as you said it, you felt he was right. You just couldn’t place it. 

You sighed softly, more to release the pressure in your chest than anything, “What do I do now? How can I hide something like this from Steven? I can see how much it’s hurting him, how he’s breaking down under it… How can I possibly hide that?” 

That golden shimmer flickered, obscuring the man’s face for a moment, “You continue to help Steven, and now Marc along this path. They will need your help soon, and further down their destiny.” There was a few moments silence and then that rich voice was softer, “Steven will forgive you. Sometimes saving the ones we love means hurting them a little ourselves, if only to protect them from an irreparable pain.”

Well, you would always do what you could for Steven, and for Marc too, despite not quite understanding everything that was happening. You nodded slowly, before looking back to his reflection, “Who are you? Why does my heart recognise you even if my brain doesn’t?”

You made out another smile, a shake of his head, “Soon, little bird. Very soon. I promise you.” And then the shimmer folded in on itself like silken fabric lifting away in the wind, like the flutter of wings and he was gone. 

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[thispabulum-blog]

A Wink's as Good as a Nod

What's the Tea? Tuesday

When we last left our heroes, Cuddlebug and I were having a nice, busy day.

Tuesday doesn't seem to exist.

Wednesday night we attempted to watch John Wick 2, but the definitely legal website we were using wasn't cooperating. We made a nice fast food run to grab some Wendy's (my God, Wendy really knows how to do lemonade, y'know?).

Few things make this boy as happy as watching a movie - or, more specifically, someone agreeing to watch a movie with him. If only I could get him to watch bad movies.

Thursday Cuddlebug woke me up by eating cereal at his desk, which I've asked him not to do while I'm sleeping (he apologized). I was supposed to have a cute date with Deep Dish, but he had to cancel because one of his kids was sick and he needed to take them to the doctor. And then Cuddlebug quit his job.

It was an eventful morning. Since he didn't have to go to work, we spent a few hours in bed.

For dinner we actually cooked together, which is somehow a thing we hadn't done up to that point. It worked really well, except that I burned my hand being a little careless throwing salmon into a pan and also by not realizing that salmon fucks up my stomach something awful.

We started the most recent season of Better Call Saul. We have not finished it, so no spoilers.

Later I got to finally have Cuddlebug watch (500) Days of Summer, having previously established that he doesn't really understand the concept of Manic Pixie Dream Girls. His thoughts:

It was a very well-made movie. I liked pretty much everything. I hated the characters.

Yeah, he gets it.

For the record, Dr. Strangelove did not.

Friday I had a migraine, and nothing would touch it. I spent most of the day time-traveling to collect art in Animal Crossing, one of my favorite meta-gaming pastimes.

My head hurt so badly that I didn't want to watch Better Call Saul, but I told Cuddlebug I'd be willing to watch a movie if it was something I'd seen. So he pulled out his list and we landed on Arrival.

CB: I think this might be my favorite extraterrestrial movie.

Me: Yeah? What's your second favorite?

CB: I'm not sure, they're mostly shit. The Thing?

After the movie I was feeling hungry, and I ended up picking out a can of biscuits that I guess had been in the fridge for quite some time, because they goddamn EXPLODED out of the can as soon as I started to open it - so much so that three of the biscuits were mangled and I had to squish them back into shape. If I'd recorded that it would have been hilarious.

Saturday I had what I refer to as a "migraine hangover", where the localized area of intense pain seemed to have dissipated and was now a low-level sensitivity spread out over my entire head, threatening to flare up. It didn't hurt, exactly, but it felt really...raw. Idk. Migraines are weird.

Cuddlebug was nice enough to only bitch a little about dropping me off at his favorite Chinese restaurant to have lunch with Dr. Strangelove - I think mostly because it compelled him to run his errands and he didn't want to yet.

Lunch went okay. The food was great - except I thought I ordered beef with broccoli and she definitely bought me a plate of broccoli, and I didn't feel like being assertive enough to correct her. I fucking love broccoli, though. Conversation was okay and he didn't ask any of his usual weird/difficult questions. I didn't feel great, so we didn't hang out terribly long.

Back at the Cuddlebug house I got a short lecture about recycling after putting a can in the garbage, which included the stupidest possible explanation of what is recyclable: "Anything magnetic, anything flammable, anything that holds liquids efficiently" so nobody listen to my boyfriend when he talks about anything, please.

That evening, I connected some dots that I really should have been smart enough to put together sooner, and realized that one of my biggest migraine triggers is mold (especially food mold), and Cuddlebug hasn't really cleaned out his fridge since his roommates moved out.

He tried to get me to come into the kitchen while he was making dinner, and I explained this to him. He was instantly horrified, and kicked me out of the kitchen so he could start throwing things out. He's a good kid.

Also. He was getting ready to make some pasta with chicken for dinner, and he was like "Oh no, the chicken isn't thawed all the way. Do you want me to use bacon instead?" (and I did NOT because I know how long that bacon has been in the fridge and how poorly it's stored) so I made him let me feel the chicken and I told him "Nah, it's mostly thawed. Actually it'll be a lot easier to cut up if it's still a little frozen, and since you're sautéing the pieces they'll cook just fine." And of course he piped up "Wow, you were right!" once he'd done it. I like it when I can teach him a thing, and he integrates that into his life.

But it's a good tip in general. Chicken can be particularly difficult to cut (especially if your knives aren't super sharp) because it moves around so much, but if it's a bit frozen it's usually stiff enough to stay still. I've done the same with beef, and also cheese.

My head felt so much better after dinner! So much so that we went on an ice cream run, where we purchased our own half-gallons of the two most different ice cream flavors - Double Vanilla for the boy, Denali Extreme Moose Tracks for me.

Sunday morning I got a very cute text from Item 9 which was just a picture of a (beautiful) pancake he made. Success! I knew he could do it.

Cuddlebug offered to take me to lunch before he drove me home, and we ended up at my favorite Indian buffet. It was delicious, and I got him to try some new things that he hadn't had before.

There was this table of 5 college-age guys two tables over from us. They weren't being super loud, but we could hear their entire conversation. And for some reason, they kept talking about rats. Like "oh we found this rat in our apartment" "at least it was just one rat" "it's never just one rat" "my girlfriend was freaking out because she hates rats", which is...not great lunch conversation. And every time I thought they had moved on, they'd bring it up again. Finally I was like "Hey guys! Could you please stop talking about rats?" And they did! And they weren't dicks about it.

I hate confrontation, so I'm glad this one worked out.

Monday was a nothing day. I watched The Masked Singer, applied for jobs, played Animal Crossing, prayed for summer to be over - and with the forecast this week, that one might actually be happening.

[nowritingonthewall]

hello chrissie! I hope you're having a good day!

do you have any tips on gifmaking for someone who wants to start?

Hi Nonnie, thank you so much for your ask, I hope you're having a good day, too 🥰

Tbh, I always feel like I am not really qualified to answer these questions, because – unlike me – most of the wonderful gif makers on this site use photoshop and if you have access to that software, I would always recommend using it because it’s easier, faster, the outcome is so much better and the opportunities it offers are endless. (There are a lot of beginner tutorials on this site if you search for gif + tutorial in the search bar 😊)

However 😉 If you don’t have access to photoshop or your cpu can’t handle it or you are simply overwhelmed by the vastness of the program, you can always try GIMP 😊 It’s opensource, you can download it legally for free and it runs on all platforms. The main drawback is that it doesn’t have the timeline feature, which means that you have to edit every single layer separately. (The program literally wasn’t designed to create gifs, it’s just that a few clever people found a way to work around that 😆)

I would recommend starting with this tutorial here. It explains how to create a gif in GIMP in general, how to create screencaps, how to import them, how to resize, how to crop and how to export your gif.

As for the really fun part (editing your gif), I think for a beginner it would be easiest to concentrate on three basic steps: brightening up the gif, adjusting the colours, and sharpening the gif. You’ll find all the editing tools that you need for that under “Colours/Colors” in the menu bar.

The brightening/contrast tool of GIMP can give weird results, so it’s usually easier to use the exposure tool, but that’s just my personal opinion.

As for playing around with the colours, the tools that you would want to look into first are “curves”, “levels” and “components -> channel mixer”. The channel mixer isn’t nearly as good as the one in photoshop, of course, but it makes me so giddy that GIMP finally has a proper one implemented 🙃

Also, if you’re just starting out, I would always recommend working with the largest quality source material that you can find (at least 1080p). I spent most of last year giffing really low quality vids because I’ve never been able to resist a cute Oscar moment, but if you’re just learning how to gif, the quality issue might become really frustrating, especially in the beginning.

And of course, the most important part: Allow yourself to have fun playing around and trying new things 🥰 Every new gif poses a new challenge, so don’t be discouraged if a certain editing step doesn’t result in the outcome you’d expected, you’ll soon get the hang of it 💜

I hope this was at least a little helpful 🥰

[alcottsangel]

Fainted {Benedict Bridgerton x reader}

Summary: Y/n faints at a ball at Aubrey Hall, leaving Benedict to fear loosing the love of his life.

Warnings: Fainting, Pregnancy, mentions of a doctor, alcohol consumption, fear of death.

Y/n Bridgerton adored Aubrey Hall with every bone in her body. It was much more homey than London could ever be and it brought the entire family together.

So when Violet Bridgerton proposed the idea of staying in Aubrey Hall for a week and holding a ball, Y/n could not have been more excited.

Pall Mall with her brothers and sisters in law, private painting sessions with her husband and finally getting to snuggle dear little Augie again.

Every now and then, Y/n found a gathering with the ton quite refreshing, especially when it was in the safety of one's own place.

So she had preserved her prettiest blue dress, Bridgerton blue and exactly the colour of Benedicts eyes, to wear. She also allowed herself to not wear the pearls but the diamonds.

And when Y/n finally stepped out holding Benedicts arm comfortably, she was filled with joy.

"You look ravishing, my love. In fact, I'm certain you are the most breathtaking woman in all of the ton." His breath sent goosebumps down her spine and she could feel the heat climbing up her cheeks.

"Do not flatter me tonight, dear, or else I might be tempted to leave immediately, seeking privacy in our bedchamber's."

Benedict chuckled softly, and a beaming smile danced across his features. It was another day where he could not appreciate his wife more.

"Would that be so horrible? I must admit that I find such thoughts significantly more alluring than spending our night in a stuffy ballroom."

Standing in a more private corner, the second-born Bridgerton brother dared to carefully kiss her neck and suck on her flesh.

Y/n could feel the arousal building up in her stomach, but was startled out of the situation as she saw Violet, who was clearly looking for someone. She could only assume it was them.

The young woman carefully pushed her husband away, gave him a cheekily peck on the lips and turned to leave with a smile.

Benedict's gaze followed her with affection in his eyes, thankful for the woman he was allowed to call his wife.

Y/n found Violet and the older woman delightfully smiled at her. "There you are, dear! I feared you and Benedict would not show."

She took her hands in a motherly way and started wandering around with Y/n by her side. "The balls at Aubrey Hall are the only ones I truly enjoy. I wouldn't want to miss that." She told her mother in law honestly.

"And my son? Has he come down too?" There was suspicion swinging along in Violets tone, but Y/n's gaze spotted Benedict dancing with Eloise and she pointed his way.

Violet breathed out in relief. With one last warm smile, Violet let go of Y/n and strolled off to find Kate. Her and Anthony had just returned from their honeymoon.

Y/n stayed on the spot for a few seconds, a bit lost, until Benedict found her again.

"May I write my name on your dance card?" He joked and offered her a hand.

She took it gracefully and giggled. "Don't be silly, my love."

They danced two times, one waltz, before they decided to take a break. Benedict was occupied by Anthony who told him something about business that Y/n could not care less about.

She stood at the side, feeling a bit hot and carefully leaning onto a chair.

She had almost no time by herself, as Colin walked her way and offered a brotherly smile.

"Care for a dance?" He asked, and Y/n nodded eagerly.

She took his hand and they found their way to the dance floor. "Am I looking so lonely that you think I need saving?" She joked.

"Can I not dance with my sister in law just for the purpose of wanting to dance?" She laughed, as her eyes met those of Penelope Featherington.

"You should dance with Penelope, I am certain she will be delighted."

"I will dance with her later, of course." He answered.

The ballroom was incredibly warm and all the spinning around made Y/n feel dizzy. It was weird, she never once struggled with it. She wanted to blame it to the punch she had earlier, but it was only a single glass.

Colin seemed to notice, looking at her worriedly. "You look incredibly pale, are you not feeling well?" He asked as her eyes began to trail off into the nowhere.

"Do not concern yourself, I am quite alright." She quickly looked back at him and tried to assure with a slight smile, that she indeed was fine.

Both, Violet and Benedict Bridgerton watched from afar. It was quite obvious that Y/n was not feeling well and worry started to dwell up in them.

Benedicts feet already found their way to the dance floor, with the intention to collect his dear wife from his brother.

"Are you certain? Perhaps something to drink, or..." Colins sentence trailed off as Y/n's eyes turned away and she sank down in his arms.

Violet gasped audibly, hurrying to Y/n's side. Benedict was also there in seconds, picking his unconscious wife up from the ground.

The dancing around them stopped, soon the music was to follow abruptly and the attention of the entire room was on them.

"Good god!" Violet exclaimed worriedly, as her hands carefully brushed over Y/n's hair.

"What happened?" Benedict hissed at his younger brother.

Colin stuttered a bit, before he was finally able to form an entire sentence. "She suddenly looked pale and then she just... fell."

Benedict nodded, the fear for his wife making him dizzy as well.

Anthony and Kate were the next to come to their side, but before even more Bridgertons had the chance, Benedict carried Y/n out of the room.

He did not know how his mother handled the situation, but after a minute or two the music and the chatting began again.

He heard footsteps following him, but hardly payed attention to them as he hurried up the steps to their bedchamber.

"She surely just needs something to eat or drink." He heard Daphnes voice behind him, and he cursed her for it.

It had to be serious. She was a force of nature, there was no explanation in which she simply needed some water.

And good god, he couldn't lose her. He would never be able to live without her by his side. Tears collected in his eyes, and he was not ashamed as they started to fall.

Once he had placed her in their bed, Violet was quick to hush him out of the room. Benedict resisted, he didn't want to leave her alone.

If anything worse was to happen he wanted to be by her side, but everything passed by him like a bliss, and before he knew better Anthony grabbed his arm rather forcefully and took him to his office.

Colin was there as well, still looking a bit startled.

Anthony was quick to pour them some whiskey and Benedict was even quicker to pour it down his throat.

"She'll be alright." Anthony stated and appeared weirdly confident in that. His younger brother disliked it.

Y/n was so incredibly strong, he knew that, but one was quick to fade and he knew that as well.

"Daphne said she perhaps needed something to drink or eat. Surely she is right about that." Colin sounded incredibly far away, almost as if it wasn't him to talk at all.

Benedict scoffed, but Anthony nodded in agreement. "The doctor will be with her soon anyways, Y/n will be fine, Benedict. Do you hear me?"

Benedicts gaze was lost in the nowhere. He just wanted to be by her side. Why couldn't he just be by her side?

"Benedict? Are you listening?" His older brother urged him. He finally looked up, placing the glass on the desk and rubbing with his hands through his face.

Anthony did not hesitate and immediately filled the glasses for a second round.

They sat in silence for a while, until the oldest Bridgerton brother eagerly clapped his hands on his thighs and got up.

"You should go back down. The ball is still very much going on. I will stay with him." He grabbed Colins shoulder, who nodded in agreement, before standing up and heading back down.

Anthony walked towards his brother, comfortingly patting Benedicts back. It was a weird sight, how he sat there so exhausted, as if he was hardly there with him.

"Let's see if the doctor has arrived, brother." He paused, before continuing to speak.

"Y/n surely is fine. There could be a ton of different, hardly important reasons. Women are fainting all the time, are they not?" He chuckled slightly.

Benedicts eyes found Anthonys, but before Anthony had a chance to act, Benedict started to cry again.

It catched the oldest off guard. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Ben crying, but was certain it was more than a decade ago.

"I know I'm foolish. I know it's perhaps nothing to worry about, but she had been unwell the entire week and I noticed, but I didn't do anything. I should've..."

Benedict broke the sentence off, considering his words carefully.

"I should have done something, anthing. If something was to happen to her now, I were to blame. I could not bear to lose her. She's everything to me, she is my wife, the love of my life and my motivation and muse. Without her, I'd be nothing."

Their gaze met, the Viscount finding himself speechless at his brothers words.

He leaned against the desk, taking a deep breath before grabbing Benedicts shoulders.

"Listen, I know you're scared, I'd be too. I cannot possibly imagine what I would do if it was Kate and not Y/n, but do not let this bring you down yet. She will be okay. I am absolutely certain about that, because I know her. Y/n is incredibly brave, and you need to be as well. She needs her husband by her side when she awakens."

Anthony nodded reassuringly. The second-born Bridgerton finally managed a crooked smile, one that did not exactly reached his eyes, but told the older that he was thankful.

Gathering themselves for a few more minutes, they made their way back to Y/n.

Once they arrived, Violet was outside the closed door talking to the doctor. He seemed to be finished, turning to leave.

As Violet saw her two oldest sons, she sighed and smiled at them. Yet, there were tear in her eyes and she held a handkerchief, so Benedict was not too quick with his assumptions.

"Is she alright?" The words came out alot more urgent than he intended and his mother brushed over his arms in an attempt to console him.

"She is awake. You should go inside to see her."

He nodded, not daring to ask for a diagnosis.

With one last look to his brother, who encouragingly smiled at him, he entered.

Y/n was draped open far too many pillows, but she was awake and beaming with joy.

He hesitated to touch her, but the moment her fingers tangled around his, he wrapped his arms around her in relief.

"I am well, darling." She assured him, as she brushed through his hair.

He nodded, taking in her smell before letting go to observe her face. His fingers danced across her features as if he had not seen her in months.

"I was so afraid to lose you. What would I do without you by my side, my love?"

"You won't have to find out." She bit her lips, before they found his in a lovingly embrace.

"Would you like to know the reason behind the little scandal I caused?"

Y/n's voice sounded far to happy, almost teasingly. "Would I?" Her husband asked insecurely.

The young woman leaned forward, her voice just a whisper. "I am with child. I was a fool not to notice sooner."

Benedict shot back to look at her properly, stuttering out a few words. "Are you certain?" He asked, as his hands cupped her face in pure joy.

"I absolutely am. Your mother already knows and I'm sure your siblings are soon to follow, but right now it's just us in here." She giggled, as he leaned forward to shower her in kisses.

"I love you so much." Another kiss and his hand finding her belly. "Do you even know that I love you so much?" Yet another kiss, this time deeper.

"Do you know how much I love you?" She asked the counter question, and he shook his head with a bright smile across his face.

"You are impossible." He told her. "I love you. And I love this child, whatever it may be."

They melted into each other, as they enjoyed their moment of peace before all of the Bridgertons were to celebrate with them.

@shanksfav @notabotiswear there it is!! <3

Please comment, I need the motivation! <3

Thank you for reading!

[archived-kin]

petty ghost haunts their murderer but doesn’t actually do anything vengeful, more at eleven

note from kin: i don’t even know what this is myself to be honest but the simple way of putting it is that you were accidentally killed by one of satan’s fits of rage and now your ghost follows him around and messes with him at any given opportunity out of pettiness

basically i came up with the prompt ‘vengeful spirit is more of a slightly miffed and extremely petty spirit who doesn’t actually do much but inconvenience their hauntee, shenanigans ensue’ and ran with it

(as a heads up, reader is not mc in this situation, and this takes place before any of the exchange program stuff, so belphie’s not in the attic and solomon and the angels aren’t in the devildom)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): gn!reader, satan, beelzebub

pairing(s): satan/reader (though it isn’t particularly romantic since you’re, y’know, dead, so it’s more of a satan & reader)

warning(s): references to death, beel eats an entire rotisserie chicken

genre: crack (with a bit of fluff i guess???)

“For the last time, [Name], put the knife down.”

“Bite me, bitch-boy.”

Satan lets out a long-suffering sigh and sets down his mug of coffee, then reaches out and carefully pushes the floating butter knife pointed directly at his jugular back down onto the table. “I don’t know why you keep trying that. You do know it wouldn’t actually get through my skin even if you did manage to hit me, right?”

“It’s the thought that counts,” comes your disembodied voice from somewhere near the ceiling. You’ve probably decided to float up there to sulk like you always do after a failed attack.

“I’d prefer you didn’t think about it at all.”

A still-wet towel pulls itself from the rack on the wall and hits him square in the face. Satan gives an exasperated groan as it slides down his face and lands on the table with a soft splat.

“That’s what you get,” You sniff indignantly, finally materialising in front of him with a scowl. You’re floating upside down in a way that makes it look like you’re standing on the ceiling. “Buttface.”

“Come on, you can come up with better material than that,” Satan shakes his head, pushing back his chair and picking up the wet towel you’ve just flung at him to hang it back up again. “Where did all your creativity from yesterday go?”

“Six feet under with the remains of my body, probably,” you reply with a scowl. Then, as an afterthought, you add, “Confounded cheese wheel.”

“Oh, that’s a new one,” He comments, mildly surprised. “Where’d you pick that up?”

“Made it up myself. Ha!” You bob past him and through the wall, most likely to go terrorise Mammon by making his lights flicker on and off again. “Guess my creativity isn’t as dead as I am after all.”

“You still haven’t gotten over that, I see.” He sighs.

Your head immediately pops back out of the wall and glares across the room at him. “Excuse me?”

“It’s been weeks now - months, even,” Satan explains carefully as he sits back down at the table, not wanting to aggravate you further. The last time he'd brought something like this up, he’d ended up making you so angry that you’d managed to become physically corporeal enough to fling him across the room. “I would have thought you’d have passed on by now, that’s all. Surely it doesn’t take this long for the gates to the Celestial Realm to open?”

You consider his words, apparently appeased by their logic. “...I guess. Maybe I’m not passing on because I can’t rest in peace yet, like the ghosts do in horror films.”

“They’re films, you can’t expect to apply what happens in them to reality,” Satan replies flatly. “Besides, even if that was the situation, you've met all the criteria to 'rest in peace’, haven't you?”

“Are you trying to tell me, the dead one here, what merits as ‘resting in peace’?” You counter, floating back through the wall so that your entire body is in the room again. “My murderer’s still walking about like he doesn’t dress in the entire green colour spectrum and think it’s a good idea. How am I supposed to rest in peace knowing that?”

Satan looks down at his outfit, a little offended. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“What’s right with your clothes?” You shoot back, drifting over to him and passing a ghostly hand through his shoulder, apparently too lazy to muster up the energy to make your hand physical enough to touch him. “Look at it! Your blazer doesn’t even have lapels!”

“It isn’t a blazer.”

“Jacket, then.” You make a move as if to pinch at the fabric, but your fingers just pass right through it like a hot knife through butter. “It doesn’t even fit you. The sleeves are too short.”

Satan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to wear it if it didn’t fit me. Besides, why does it matter to you?”

“The demon I might be doomed to be attached to for the rest of my afterlife has the worst fashion sense in all three realms is the matter,” You sigh dramatically and float up to the ceiling again. “Why do you even wear rip-off jeans if you’re going to put a belt over it?”

“First of all, they aren’t rip-off jeans,” Satan tells you as you start idly making the kitchen light flicker. He should probably tell you to stop doing that whenever you get bored, but he’s gotten so used to it at this point that he can’t really be bothered to. “And, second of all, why does it matter if I’m wearing a belt on it?”

“Rip-off jeans are meant to be ripped off,” You explain with all the patience of a mother explaining something to a curious child, completely disregarding Satan’s first point. “Putting a belt on top of it kind makes that redundant.”

Satan thinks about it for a moment and begrudgingly comes to the conclusion that your statement is correct - not that it makes a difference to him. “...they’re still not rip-off jeans.”

“Think whatever you want to think, burro verde.”

“What?”

“It means green donkey in Spanish.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I took Spanish for, like, three years when I was in high school,” You shrug, and the light brightens and dims slightly with the movement of your shoulders, as if it’s shrugging with you. “Failed all the exams, but at least I got something worthwhile out of it.”

“Three years of linguistic lessons and all you learn is how to string together bizarre insults,” Satan shakes his head. “You really are incorrigible.”

“That’s a big word. You sure you know what it means?”

“Of course I do,” He gives you a slightly disgruntled look. “I wouldn’t use it if I didn’t. What do you take me for?”

“Someone who doesn’t know what incorrigible means, obviously.” You pretend to aim a kick at the spider perched quietly in the corner of the ceiling, but Timothy ignores your efforts to boot him from his web. After a moment, growing tired of bothering the little guy, you ask, “...what does it mean?”

Satan snickers, then answers, sounding as if he’s reading the definition directly out of a dictionary, “In reference to a person or their behaviour, unable to be changed or reformed.”

You contemplate his words for a few seconds. “Is that a good thing?”

“Not usually when that particular word is used for it, no.”

“Oh. Bitch.”

He pauses at that, moving his mug of now marginally cooler coffee away from his mouth again, having been in the middle of taking another sip when you decided to insult him again. “Where did that come from?”

“You called me incorrigible, which you just said is not a good thing to be,” You explain as if it’s obvious, frowning down at him. “So I’m taking it as an insult and insulting you back. Bitch.”

“You didn’t have to say it again.”

“I didn’t, but it’s fun to call you names.” You snort and glide down from the ceiling to float above the table, crossing your legs and pretending to sit down on it. “It’s not as fun as it used to be, though. You never get all puffed up about it anymore.”

“That’s your own fault for doing it so much that I got used to it,” Satan reproaches. “Besides, it was pointless getting angry. It’s not like I can do anything to you in return.”

“You could ignore me and pretend I don’t exist or something.”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“No!” You hurriedly throw up your hands in a gesture of surrender and shake your head so hard that Satan swears he actually feels a breeze - an even more impressive achievement considering that your body isn’t even tangible. “Please don’t. You’re the only being in the entire universe that I can actually interact with.”

“Sometimes I wonder if that is a good thing,” Satan mutters.

“It’s a good thing for me, and that’s all that matters,” You reply, unfazed.

No one other than Satan appears to have the ability to see you, which is an odd thing in and of itself. Ghosts aren’t a foreign thing to the Devildom - they’re so common that you could probably just walk into a convenience store and find one shelving cans of soup - but you don’t seem to follow any of the rules that they do. Sometimes Satan wonders if you’re able to actively choose to not allow his brothers to see you as you drift around the house, but then again, he’s pretty sure that, if you had the option to make Lucifer watch you pretend to fist fight that weird skeleton hanging in his room, you definitely would.

Satan doesn’t pretend to understand the laws of your otherworldly existence - he’s read so many variations on the rules behind lingering spirits like you that he can scarcely tell the difference between pure fiction and actual logical hypothesis. It’s easy enough to wrangle you into behaving for a day so that he can observe you properly by promising to leave his radio on for you while he’s out, but the observations themselves never seem to lead to anything. He knows that you’re able to pass through any physical object (as far as he knows), can make lights (of both the electronic and candle variety) flicker at will, can muster up enough physicality to move and touch things if you try, and can phase in and out of perceivable view, but he doesn’t know why you can do any of those things.

“Quit trying to come up with explanations for everything,” You’d told him wisely a month or so ago, when you’d floated in on him muttering to himself about the possibility of something called ‘ether energy’. “You’re just gonna give yourself a headache.”

Then you’d started making his candles flicker like disco lights until he stopped.

“...but I don’t think he spotted me, since he probably would’ve commented on the floating meat cleaver if he did, and— hey, big guy!”

That last exclamation is aimed at Beel, who has just walked into the kitchen and is now rummaging unceremoniously through the fridge, most likely in search of something to eat. At this point Satan’s pretty sure that you still don’t know any of his brothers’ names - at the very least, even if you do, you’ve never called them by them.

Beel continues to sort through the various already empty boxes and containers in the fridge as you start zooming back and forth through him, marvelling over the sheer broadness of his chest and shoulders. It isn’t the first time you’ve done this to him - or indeed any of the brothers - but Satan can tell that it’s more innocent awe than any kind of objectification or intent to harm, so he doesn’t mind. As mischievous as you are, he’s pretty sure you don’t have a genuinely malicious or wanton bone in your body... well, you don’t have any bones anymore - or a body, for that matter - but the point still stands.

“Hungry?” He guesses, but it’s honestly more of a statement. It is Beel, after all.

The Avatar of Gluttony withdraws from his search briefly to offer a nod. “I didn’t get to finish all of my lunch.”

“Well, there’s a surprise,” You comment as Beel sticks his head back into the fridge, finally tiring of buffeting yourself back and forth like a pendulum and choosing to start hovering just over the second youngest’s shoulders to watch his hunt. “Wonder what he was up to that got him to stop eating.”

Satan opens his mouth to reply, then stops and closes it again. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Beel with the not-really-a-secret of your existence, but he’s sure that at some point or another, Beel will end up letting it slip to Lucifer, who would most likely want to know why your death ended up attaching your spirit to his brother, and Satan’s already gone to great lengths to make sure that the oldest won’t find out about the rampage he went on that cost you your life in the first place. It'd just be a waste of that effort for Lucifer to find out anyway. Besides, it isn’t like the information will make much difference to Beel - he can’t see or hear you, and you’re pretty harmless, so there wouldn’t be any need for him to get involved in the situation anyway.

You, meanwhile, are well aware that Satan isn’t going to be saying anything to you while one of his brothers is in the room - you don’t really understand his reasoning for it, since you like to think that you’re a pleasure of a ghost to know, but you suppose you can’t really force him to make any decisions. Besides, you’re pretty content with the way things are right now; you don’t want to complicate the situation by bringing in another demon who, as far as you know, might just smite you on the spot if they find out about your existence.

Instead, you busy yourself with watching in fascination as Beel somehow pulls what looks like a rotisserie chicken from the very back of the fridge and shove the whole thing in this mouth. You exchange slightly disturbed looks with Satan as he begins to chew - you’re pretty sure you’ve just seen him dislocate his jaw like a snake to fit it in there.

“You might want to calm down, Beel,” Satan advises after a brief moment’s stunned silence, though even he knows that it’s a fruitless warning. “You’ll end up choking.”

Beel nods, but makes absolutely no move to slow in his aggressive chewing.

“This must be what the peak of evolution looks like,” You say in bemused awe as Beel finishes eating. The entire chicken has disappeared down his throat - bones and all. “How the hell does he manage that?”

Satan doesn’t answer, but his subtle shrug says that your guess is as good as his.

Much to your surprise and Satan’s resignation, Beel immediately goes back to the fridge, apparently unsatisfied by the copious amount of fowl he’s just eaten. To be honest, you feel sorry for the guy - while the you from when you’d still been able to eat would have done some unspeakable things to be able to consume as much as he does and still remain that fit, you’re sure that the black hole he calls a stomach must be an awful thing to have to deal with. At least he gets to enjoy a lot of food because of it, though you suppose it’s a double-edged sword if he’s also constantly being scolded for it. Personally, you don’t understand the reasoning behind telling someone off for eating as much food as they need, but they are demons. You probably shouldn’t expect them to have that level of compassion.

By the time you break out of your train of thought, Beel has found something else to eat amidst the many empty boxes in the fridge. It’s much smaller than the rotisserie chicken - some kind of pastry with a dollop of snowy white cream on top, decorated with a few lines of melted chocolate to look like a cat’s face. In fact, it looks almost identical to…

“Hey, wait!” You swipe a useless hand through Beel’s arm as he raises the pastry to his mouth. “Don’t eat that—!”

Too late. The pastry disappears into Beel’s mouth, and you drift backwards again, letting out a defeated groan. Satan shoots you a curious look - you can’t eat, after all, so why are you so upset about Beel eating that pastry? Is there something special about it?

His question is answered when he actually turns to look at his younger brother. The Avatar of Gluttony has gone rigid on the spot and is blinking rapidly, his eyes the size of moons.

“Beel…?” Satan questions hesitantly. “Are you feeling alright?”

Beel takes a long moment to respond, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Satan takes a closer look and realises that Beel’s pupils seem to have dilated to an almost impossible degree, resembling a cat’s eyes when it’s about to go absolutely feral. Whatever it is was in that pastry, it’s definitely hit him hard.

Now, Satan isn’t one to interrupt good fun when it’s about to happen, so instead of stepping in and performing some sort of spell that might help on his possibly-high brother like a good guy, he sits back and watches as Beel’s head swings around the room as if he's never seen anything in it before like the mischief-loving little shit he is. Beel himself doesn’t appear to be negatively affected, so it can’t be that bad, right?

You float cautiously around the giant as his hands ball into fists. His entire body is trembling slightly with pent-up energy. Then, a split second later, as if he’s been zapped by some catalystic bolt of lightning, he abruptly snaps back on his heel and positively zooms out of the room. You can practically see the cartoony cloud of dust that he’s kicking up as he disappears down the corridor.

“He’s absolutely zooted right now,” You comment, flipping upside with a resigned sigh and crossing your arms a little grumpily. “I told him not to eat it.”

“He couldn’t hear you, you know,” Satan says, moving over to the fridge and slamming it shut, since Beel has neglected to. “What was even in that thing?”

You shrug. “Don’t know. I’ve just been calling it demon-nip.”

“I suppose that it does to demons what catnip does to cats, then?” Satan doesn’t even wait for you to answer before continuing - rude. “How did you even get a hold of it? Never mind that, how did you manage to get it in a pastry and put it in the fridge?”

“I got some help from one of the poltergeists downtown to make it,” You wave your hands about dismissively. “You should pay more attention when you go out. I disappeared for, like, five hours, and you didn’t even notice.”

“When even was this?”

“Tuesday, I think. Remember when you bought that giant bag of cat paw-shaped biscuits and then accidentally dropped the bag in the hall and got them everywhere?”

You don’t miss the way that the tips of his ears go slightly pink as he coughs subtly and averts his gaze. “...why would the poltergeists help you? They hate humans.”

“I don’t know, actually…” You ponder for a moment, then decide, “...probably because I’m cute.”

“Are you?” Satan deadpans. “Cute is what you’d call a cat. You’re just… tolerable.”

“Oh, fuck you, I think I’m adorable.” You huff, flying over and poking him hard in the side of the head. Satan hisses in pain and reaches up to rub the sore spot, but he supposes he should have seen that blow coming - you’re never too humble to make yourself physical enough to hit him after an insult.

“Where did that idea even come from?” He asks quickly, not wanting to take another attack. You may be a mere imprint of a dead human, but your fingers are sharp, and he’d prefer not to provoke you further if he can avoid it.

His change of subject is so abrupt and obvious that it’s almost laughable, but you choose not to call him out on it. As much as you’d like to set him on fire or something, he hasn’t given you a really good reason to commit arson yet, and you’d just end up feeling bad for doing it. Well, to be fair, he did kill you… but still, you don’t want to keep holding that over his head.

“I read it in a book.” You answer. Satan’s eyes light up slightly.

“Do you remember the title?” He asks almost eagerly, and you disguise a snicker. His intentions are practically painted in bright red paint across his face - he’s hoping that there’ll be more schemes like the one you’ve performed that he can use against that sadist of an older brother of his.

Unfortunately for him, the book doesn’t exist. “Yeah. It’s called One Hundred Ways To Get Back At The Ass That Killed You, Free Of Murder and Actual Crimes That Might Get You Persecuted And Sent To Super Hell.”

Satan clearly isn’t thinking very hard today, because for a moment he actually looks as if he believes you - you suppose it’s because he’s grown desensitised to the oddness of such long titles after hearing so many weirdly specific anime titles from the otaku brother that you still have yet to see come out of his room. (You’ve floated in a few times to have a look around and appreciate the decor, but other than that, you’ve barely even seen his face. You’re not even sure what his name is, to be honest…)

He realises what you’re getting at after a moment, though, and immediately frowns at you in disapproval. You just grin, pleased with your small victory.

“You're insufferable,” He says, shaking his head with an long sigh.

“No, I'm cute,” You counter, frowning. “Weren't you listening to me earlier?”

He throws his hands up hastily as you drift forward with a hand brandished and a nasty glint in your eye, unwilling to get jabbed at again. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

You, however, don't relent. Eyes narrowing, you float even closer - so close that, if you'd been physical, he’d have been able to feel your breath on his face. “Say it.”

Satan may be one of the seven most powerful demons in the Devildom (below Diavolo, of course, and possibly Barbatos), but the aggression of a pissed-off ghost, especially if that ghost is you, isn't anything he wants to be on the receiving end of right now. “Fine, fine! You're adorable, you're cute, whatever. Now will you leave me alone?”

You finally pull back, beaming in a gratified fashion. “That's all I wanted to hear!”

Satan gives you an irritated look as you drift back across the kitchen, a satisfied grin on your face. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’ve said that already,” You sing back, laughing in victory when you see his eyebrow twitch slightly in annoyance. “And you had the nerve to lecture me about creativity earlier! Why don’t you come up with better material, Mr Shoes-Up-My-Ass?”

He doesn’t reply for a good moment, attempting to think of a insult to counter your admittedly slightly juvenile one. Try as he might, though, all of his good jibes seem to have evaporated. “...shut up.”

His pathetic response, of course, immediately compels you to take the piss out of him. Clutching your chest dramatically, as if Satan’s just stabbed you with the knife you’d been waving about earlier, you wail, “Oh, thy words do wound me! 'Tis like thou hath rip’d my heart out with thy own hands!”

Satan glares you for a long moment, but he doesn’t have the heart to keep it up when you’re grinning so brightly. Honestly, you’re a nuisance and a brat sometimes, sure, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t consider you his closest friend at this point. “...do you even know how to use those words?”

You drop the act faster than Asmo throws it down on a Saturday night, shrugging and floating back over to hover just above the chair across from Satan’s. “Nope. It sounded right, though, right?”

“I haven’t read enough works in Old English to know,” Satan admits with a shake of his head. “But it did, I suppose…”

It’s kind of weird that he’s agreeing so easily, you think. Has he just had enough of your bullshit and is complying with to keep you quiet? Or has he just finally seen the light of your brilliance?

...well, you suppose it doesn’t matter. You grin and move to ruffle his hair, but forget to make your hand physical and instead end up flying right through his head. Satan shudders slightly - though he doesn’t feel it, it’s still weird to have an entire hand and arm go through his cranium.

“Could you not?” He complains as you right yourself and pull your hand back again. “This feels weird.”

“Baby.”

“Pet names aren’t going to do anything,” He sighs, pulling his chair to the side so that he’s no longer half-inside your torso. “Hands to yourself.”

“No, it was an insult,” You correct him. “I was calling you a baby. Though bitch-boy works too.”

Satan lets out a long sigh. Now you’re just back where you started.

[lilykenz]

Round 1 ❥Kenma x f!reader

❥ Word Count ~ 1.6k

❥ Warnings ~ ⚠️ 18+, smut, female reader, edging, mention of alcohol, kitten play, dd/bbg.

❥ Summary ~ You’re visiting Kenma’s house for a fun hangout, yet things change -very- quickly when he catches your admiration.

❥ This is my first one-shot with the ‘you’ perspective! Please be gentle!!! Do not repost anywhere but I do appreciate reblogs <33

“YES! HAHA! New high score!!!” Kenma roared.

The shout made you jump in your seat and jostled your attention from your switch to him.

Kenma pushed himself with his upper body away from the computer desk and slid the rolling gamer chair back. With one movement, he unfolded his legs (which had been at his chest) and hopped to his feet. This guy really sat in weird positions while tending to his hobbies. Some of which made -your- back ache in protest. How’d he do it for hours at a time?

“We should play a round next!” He strained out in that cute higher pitch he gained when he stretched.

Was he talking to his friends over the mic? Or to you??

The heaviness from your handheld sat in your lap. Muscles flexed beneath the sleeves of his baggy black hoodie. It happened again when he brought those arms forward, pulling his hoodie tight at the back. The nape of his neck clenched just before he rolled his head. Long black hair faded to dirty blond messily draped over his shoulders, which was pulled back in a loose bun.

Damn..Long hair like that easily gets tangled up in a fist…You could hear your heart beginning to race and mind slipping into what you called “the gutter” all too often. A familiar heat swelled beneath the handheld, causing you to wiggle in your seat in a desperation to quell the discomfort.

He leaned forward, the tight denim jeans he wore hugging his calves, thighs, and ass. The world slowly tilted sideways while you watched. A pair of golden feline eyes glinted over his shoulder at you. But your mind continued to roam. Your breathing quickened and came out in soft little huffs. Did he absolutely -have- to have clothes on??

“Tch. Perv”, you caught him muttering when he placed his controller down with a clack on the desk. He turned around, his expression stern and unamused.

Uh oh. I know that look. You tried to swallow and bit your dry lower lip. Kenma was no longer in his normal playful mood. Flicking his nose with his thumb, he sniffled and glanced off to his left. Your gaze slowly followed to the right and stopped at the wide open door.

The arcade room door slowly shut and you watched as Kenma’s right hand stayed on the knob. His left hand fanned on the frame for support. The muscles in his back were again visible when he hunched forward against the door. A big sigh sounded before he straightened his back and casually turned to face you. One finger wagged with a tsk noise.

His walk possessed confidence with a stroke of sass. A nervous tension rose within you, as did something else. Your legs fidgeted together to hide the growing ache. Last time and the first time, Kenma had been so shy. So gentle. You could have sworn somewhere in the slew of your regular texts over the past week that he was going to try something. Something new.

And the vibes he was giving off were -definitely- new.

Kenma picked up the controller he had previously placed on the desk, opened a game, turned the stick to where the vehicle he controlled rammed against a wall, and left it idle. He straightened again and cleared his throat, the look on his face unreadable. But his eyes. His feline gaze shook you. It wasn’t a look of gentleness. Quite the contrary…

“Do you remember last Wednesday night?” His words purred into the silence and made you shiver.

You shook your head slowly, wracking your brain for evidence of what might have happened that night. The only thing you remembered was having too many daiquiris. And texting Kenma. You remembered the action of doing so, but your words were lost in a big drunken blur. A big swallow was your answer aside from your denial and you could feel your heart beginning to race. Shit! Shit! What the hell did I tell him???

A soft purring noise sounded when he approached your chair. He’s…he’s purring?? Kenma squinted down at you, mischief clouding his golden eyes. Slowly, he lifted and placed the switch off to the side of you. He then grabbed hold of the edge of the chair with his right hand. A grin spread across his face, loosening a few bang strands.

“Need I remind you, kitten?” His words hung on a low growl while he hovered over you.

“Wait…Kit-“ you began to say, but the words were lost in a squeak of surprise. The controller vibrated against your lower thighs. All you could do was pant out nervously, feeling your face heat up. You shot a look of desperation up to meet his, only to be met with hunger. Prowess. Possession. The vibrations continued further along the crease between your thighs.

Warm breath tickled your ear, “wait? Oh no. You’re a -good- kitten, remember?” The name calling was enough to make you melt, but paired with the praise, you couldn’t help but whimper. You didn’t have to see his face to hear the grin and scoff in response to your reactions.

The cruel handle of the controller hovered just above your clit. Layers of clothing didn’t matter. Your thighs clenched together from the sudden jolt of pleasure. A gasp followed by a whimper hung in the air and your lips began to quiver behind your shaky breathing. Kenma slipped his warm fingers beneath your chin and tilted your head up in place. Soft lips just barely brushed against your own.

“Uh-uh.”

The controller pressed harder against your swollen heat and up into you. Wave upon wave of pleasure surged through your shaking body and you couldn’t help but gasp, moan, and whine. He edged the controller down into the crease of your thighs, making your legs spread. A purr of approval sounded from his throat.

His waist rocked just inches from your view past his gaze. A tent formed beneath the taught denim. Pulsing. Throbbing. You reached out to assist when another pang of pleasure pressed against your damp folds. Your grasp found the bagginess of his hoodie, instead. More whimpers and moans sounded out from your parted lips against his. There came a soft hum from them as he chuckled.

“I could listen to these sounds of yours all day. You’re such a good kitten. Daddy approves very very much.” The words were like a drug of ecstasy.

Gawd. Fuck. Daddy???

The title whispered just barely beneath your breath against his mouth. Something warm and wet traced the contours of your lips. Another surge washed over you. The controller dipped then rubbed up and down your pussy in between your trembling legs. It was too much. You couldn’t last another second.

The vibrations pulled away for just a moment and you caught a growl with the delicious taste of his breath on yours. “Uh-uh…Finish when I want you to.”

His words were like velvet. His stare held you captive. You needed him so badly and yet he just continued to edge you on. Each time you came close, he’d pull away. Soft whimpers replaced your exhalations. His head would tilt up each time just barely and the creases of his full lips would curl. Sounds of indulgence of his own trickled into the air. Kenma was getting off without even touching himself.

“Say it, kitten.” He commanded lowly, the velvet thick enough to send shivers through you.

One end of the handle pressed roughly against your clit, the other against your folds. You couldn’t handle it anymore. Pleading cries answered him.

“Oh? Please? Please what, kitten??” His words sounded through grit teeth and his body began to show signs of strain.

“Please, daddy? Let me finish. Please?? Please please please” you begged. Fuck your pride.

A sexy grunt sounded after a chuckle. Kenma’s lips pressed to yours; that slender tongue exploring the confines of your mouth. Claiming them. It wrestled with yours. The vibrations pressed into your sex. Rubbing.Teasing. Kneading. Your breath shortened into quick pants. Trembling in desperation, you hesitated for a moment. Your hips began to sway into the controller a few times. Just a little more. Your thoughts imagined the tool being something else. Him. All of him. You needed him. Your body tensed and a bout of cum coated the fabric of your panties.

Hums of approval egged you on when he didn’t move the controller. With each wave of pleasure, your grip on his hoodie tightened. After the third time, the vibrations at last ceased. Yet the ghost pleasure remained while your pleasure-high receded.

“Goood girl” he purred between kisses, “fuck”, the end of the curse emphasised. He pulled away and with it, your lower lip, when he bit on it and tugged. A sly grin etched on his face as Kenma stood up straight, peering down at the sight of you.

“You’ll have to come over again. Maybe for dinner, a movie, a game or two. I can show you a few tricks.” He laughed at the possible dual meaning behind the last comment.

His glance followed yours and he lifted the black hoodie to further reveal his taught jeans. A blush coloured his cute fake-shocked expression when he met your gaze again.

“Yes! You did this. I might let you take care of it next time. We’ll see, kitten. In the meantime, Daddy has a meeting in a few minutes about the next online tournament.” He turned around and sauntered back to the door, taking the controller with him. He wanted you to notice the arousal in his step. The tease.

As soon as that door opened, his demeanour changed a little. He was back in his normal, playful mood. Back to cutting up with his online friends. You slumped down into the chair cushion, trying to catch your breath. A feline stare squinted back over his shoulder at you. You tensed. Then he winked.

[libraryofloveletters]

Brothers

In which, Luke develops feelings for Matt’s little sister. 

Luke Alvez x Reader, Brother!Matt Simmons x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, sibling banter, cm level of case details/violence, mentions of death, guns and gunshots, lots of pining, mentions of pregnancy and birth, kissing.

Category: fluff with a little bit of angst 

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: combined this request and this request to come up with this :) 

-----

The phone rang at what felt like quite literally the crack of dawn. “What?” you groaned when you picked up. “Where are you?” your brother’s voice filled your ear from the other side of the phone. 

“In bed, where else would I be at..” you pulled the phone away from your ear to check the time “5:56 in the morning?” 

Matt chuckled, “do you know a girl named Jenna Parker?” he asked. 

“I do, why ? Oh god, you're not cheating on Kristy right ? I swear if you’re calling to lie for you Matthew, I'll-” he cut you off.

“Shut up y/n and what did I tell you about calling me Matthew? I’m not cheating on Kristy you idiot, Jenna was killed last night” you sat up in bed, “What ? I saw her at dinner last night” 

“Stay where you are and get dressed. Agents will be at the hotel to collect your team for questioning” he told you. 

“Matt I had nothing to do with this, you know that right ?” 

“I know, standard procedure. I’ll see you later” he hung up. 

You dragged yourself out of bed and got dressed. Jenna’s face kept reappearing in your thoughts, she had only joined your team recently and she was an absolute sweetheart. She was telling you how excited she was to join the team last night at dinner. 

A knock on the door broke your thoughts, you unlocked it assuming that your brother had come to get you. 

This was most definitely not your brother. 

The man at your door had dark brown hair and tan skin.Something about his eyes made you want to stare into them forever, they were a soft brown mocha colour. He had a piece of paper in his hand, his finger ran across the page, “are you.. y/n?” he asked you 

“I am and you are?” 

“Agent Luke Alvez, I’m with the BAU. I’m here to pick you up for questioning” 

“Oh yeah, get me one second” you turned around and headed back into your room, Luke followed you in. “Ever heard of privacy ?” you picked up your phone and a sweater. “Oh sorry, I can’t let you in here by yourself until we processed you” he explained to you. “Lovely” you pulled on your sweater, he motioned for you to head out of the room. 

You stepped out first, he shut your door as the two of you walked down the hallway. “Your last name is Simmons ?” he looked over at you as you got on the elevator. “Mhm hm” you pulled your phone out to text your brother. 

To Matt: On my way now. Your friend is weird. 

From Matt: Who’s my friend ?

To Matt: Handsome guy with the pretty brown eyes, think his name is Luke 

From Matt: stop objectifying my friends, I'll see you soon. 

Luke didn't say anything else to you, the drive to the station was quiet except for you conducting your own little interrogation. 

“How long have you worked for the BAU ?” you looked out the window, 

“About 2 years now. How long have you been swimming ?” he rebutted. 

“My whole life” 

It did occur to Luke that you might be Matt’s little sister. He knew how proud Matt was of you and your swimming career, he also knew that Matt was supposed to see you this weekend while you were in D.C for training. After all, the sweater did say Simmons on the back, it couldn’t be a coincidence. 

Luke walked you into the station, the rest of your team was already there. “Hi, you must be y/n” a tall woman came up to you, she had short brown hair and she looked remarkably good considering how early it was.

“That would be me” you smiled at her, “you are?” she stuck her hand out for you, “Dr. Tara Lewis with the BAU” you shook her hand. 

“Nice to meet you Dr. Lewis” “You too”  

Tara excuses herself from you, Luke walks you over to a waiting area. All the girls were separated for obvious reasons but with nothing else to do, you figured you’d irritate Luke. 

“Why can’t I see the rest of my team?”

“Standard procedure” 

“And what is this standard procedure ?” 

“It’s-” “Stop harassing him y/n” your brother said as he walked into the room. 

You stood up and gave him a hug. It had been so long since you last saw your brother. 

“Hey you” he gave you a good squeeze, “hey” you smiled at him. 

Matt led you to a room and you took a seat at the table. “I can’t do your questioning because I'm your brother but I'm leaving you in good hands” Luke and Tara walked in a few moments after. “You’re leaving me with pretty eyes over here ? I might just get distracted and forget what he asked” you chuckle, Luke looks away but you manage to catch the blush you comment caused. 

“Behave y/n, I'll be back later” Matt kissed the top of your head before walking out. 

Luke and Tara sit across from you. “How did you meet Jenna ?” Tara asked you, “she was on my swim team, she joined a few months ago” 

“Were the two of you close ?”

“Not really, we didn't hang outside of practice but we got along” 

“Is there anyone that would have a reason to hurt Jenna ?” Luke asked this time. 

You paused, something Jenna had said to another one of the girls cause caught your attention a while back. “Not that I know of but apparently someone had broken into her apartment a while back. She was telling one of the other girls and I heard them. She moved from there though” 

“Do you have the address ? I’ll have Garcia check if she filed a report” 

“47 Park Street, not sure what unit was hers” you drummed your fingers against the table. Tara’s phone rang and she excused herself before stepping out of the interrogation room. Luke was also on the phone but he stayed in the room, you took a moment to really look at him. He wore a black button up that fit him far too well for your liking, his hair was messy but not like he had just rolled out of bed, more like his hands had been through it a few times. His tongue ran across his lips while he talked on his phone. Luke's hands rested on the table, he spun the pen on the table around a few times before getting off the call. 

God were his hands pretty, the things you’d let him do to you with those hands

“Y/n ?” Luke’s voice broke your thoughts. 

“Hm?” 

“Do you know if Jenna was seeing anyone ? A boyfriend maybe ?”

“Um no boyfriend but she was seeing a girl she met through our coach” 

“Oh okay, do you know her name ?” 

“Erica, uh her last name started with a G ? I’m not really sure” 

“That’s fine, thank you. I’ll be back” was all he said before stepping out of the room. You watched as he walked out, he stood by the window talking to some skinny guy. 

Your definition of the perfect man was Luke and everything he seemed to be, but you doubted that anything could happen between the two of you. He seems to be ignoring your glances and your flirty remarks all morning. Matt was the other issue, never would he ever let you date anyone on his team, let alone one of his close friends. 

--

“Alvez!” Tara shouts as she meets him up by the suv “Hey, need a ride ? I'm headed to the crime scene” he asks her, she nods before getting in the car. The drive was quiet, Tara kept glancing over at Luke and snickering. 

“Okay c’mon, what is it ?” 

“Nothing” 

“You keep looking at me funny, what happened ? something on my face?” Luke runs his hand over his face, Tara shakes her head. 

“Tara, what is it ?” 

“Luke, you’ve got a crush on Simmons” she laughs. 

“Matt ? I don't have a crush on Matt”

“No you idiot, y/n. You have a crush on y/n” 

“What? No I don't” 

Okay maybe Luke did have a tiny crush on her but Matt would never approve of him dating his little sister and he wouldn't let a crush affect his work life. 

“Alvez, don’t act stupid. I know I wasn't the only one noticing the glances between you two, I saw them since the two of you came in this morning. And that ‘pretty eyes’ comment ? she totally made you blush” Tara chuckled, “she’s into you dude, and you’re into her” 

“She’s Matt’s sister Tara, I’m not gonna do that” 

“So what if she’s Matt’s sister? She’s her own person. Matt doesn’t control her Luke.” 

Luke just hummed, Tara did have a valid point. Y/n was a grown up, she can make her own decisions. So what if Matt was mad at them ? 

God Alvez, what are you thinking ? That’s his sister, you couldn’t do that to him. 

Luke pulled into the hotel parking lot. He followed Tara inside but he wasn’t paying attention. He was there but he wasn't really there, his mind kept wandering back to y/n. 

Oh how he envied Spencer in that moment, he knew that he wouldn't remember how y/n looked exactly when he first met her but he’d keep that memory for as long as he could remember it. Her shuffling feet, her messy hair and her sleep laced voice, she seemed like an angel on earth to him. 

---

“Kid?” an older man shook your shoulder gently. “Hm, what is it ?” you stretched, you must have fallen asleep after Luke left. “you can leave, maybe get some rest when you get back to the hotel” the man chuckled, and you smiled at him. 

“Thank you,” you looked at his badge, “Agent Rossi” you finished your sentence. 

“Please just Dave” he smiled and opened the door for you, you stepped out of the room. “You’re Matt’s sister aren’t you ?” 

“That would be me” 

“He’s outside. He should be able to give you a ride back to the hotel, if not, I'm in here” Dave told you. 

“Thank you, it was nice meeting you” 

“You too kid” he patted your back and headed in the opposite direction. 

You walked out of the station to see your brother and Luke standing by the suv talking about something. “Hey ugly” you poked Matt’s side, “hey tiny” he hit your arm playfully making you pout. “I’m not tiny” 

“oh but you are” 

“shut it Matthew, I need a ride” 

“Where to ?” 

“My bed bro, Dave said I could leave” 

“You’re on a first name basis with my colleagues?” 

“Jealous that they’ll like me better?” you raised your eyebrows and held back a laugh. 

“Oh yeah totally oh my god, y/n please don’t take my friends from me” Matt said sarcastically while giving your shoulder a little nudge. 

Luke chuckled at the both of you and your banter, it was sweet how close the two of you were.

Your sweet moment was ruined by the sound of bullets hitting the suv. Matt’s first instinct was to wrap his arms around you, Luke stood there with his gun drawn and no one in sight except you and Matt. 

“What the hell was that ?” Luke asked, he stepped back taking a look around once more and turned back to you and Matt. “Are you okay ?” Matt asked you with his arms still around you, you nodded. “Are you okay ?” you asked him but your eyes were on Luke. Luke noticed your look and gave you a little nod, “I'm fine, let’s get you back” 

Luke left you and Matt in the parking lot with the keys to his suv before heading into the station to get Emily. Matt drove you back to the hotel, you sat in the parking lot with him for a while, Matt was showing you pictures of the kids and how big they’ve gotten. You had yet to meet the newest addition to the Simmons family, the little one that has yet to be born but it’s like the baby is already here. Matt was so excited even though this was the 4th time Kristy would be giving birth.

“You’re going to be okay ?” Matt asked you as he walked you to your room 

“Yeah, I'll be okay Matt” 

“You know what to do if you need anything right ?” 

“Yes Matt, I'll call my super cool FBI agent for a brother to come rescue me” you laughed making Matt roll his eyes.

“That’s exactly what you’ll do, now you’re sure you don’t want to come back to my place ? Kristy and the kids are at home and I’m sure they’d love to see their aunt” 

“Hm, maybe. Let me get my stuff ?” 

“I’ll help” 

Matt walked into your room and helped you gather your things before heading back to the suv and driving you to his place. “Babe!” Matt called as he walked into the house, “Shh the kids just went down for a nap, they were playing outside all day” Kristy told him, giving him a hug. 

“Is the case over already ?” she asked him, he shook his head. 

“No, just had to bring our guest over” 

Right on cue, you walked in with your bags. “Hey pretty lady!” you pulled Kristy into a hug, “Hey you!” she hugged you back, well as best as she could considering she had a huge bump right now. “Ready to pop yet ?” you laughed with your hand on her belly. “Just about, I told him no more after this one” she gave Matt a look and he just shrugged. 

“I can’t help it, you’re just so-” Matt started but you cut him off

“Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross, I don’t wanna hear that” 

Matt and Kristy laughed at your comment, Matt headed back out to work while you helped Kristy make dinner for your little rug rats.

--- 

Luke sat in the conference room when Matt came back. “Hey man, where’s your sister?” he glanced at Matt, “she’s at my place with Kristy and the kids” he told him. Luke let out an ‘oh’ that sounded rather sad. 

“You okay man ?” 

“Oh yeah, I'm fine” 

“Then what’s with the sad look on your face ?” 

Matt sat across from Luke waiting for his answer. Luke contemplated if he could tell Matt what was really on his mind or if he should make up something. Would he be mad if I liked her ? The voice rang through his head over and over again.  “She’s her own person. Matt doesn’t control her Luke.” Tara’s words came back to him. He should just tell him how he feels, he doesn't want to lie to him. 

“Is your sister seeing anyone ?” Luke blurts out much more awkwardly than he’d expected, Matt gave him a weird look. 

“I don't think so, why do you ask ?” Matt looked over at him 

“Oh just cause the case, gotta cover all the bases” Luke lied 

“Are you sure that’s the reason you’re asking me about her ?” 

Did Matt know ? No, he couldn't know. He played it cool. Oh what was he thinking? Tara figured it out, Luke’s sure Matt did too. 

“What do you mean ?” Luke avoids Matt’s stare, instead he busies himself with the papers scattered across the table. 

“You know exactly what I mean Luke.” Luke’s eyes met Matt’s, Luke knew that Matt knew and he couldn't bullshit his way out of this one. “Come on” Matt stood up, Luke mirrored his actions. “Where are we going ?” 

“Just come with me” 

The two men walked out of the station and got into the car. They were now 15 minutes into their ride and Matt has yet to tell Luke where they're going. Luke looks over at him, “I know you like her” Matt says quietly. “I do” Luke replies. 

The rest of the drive is silent, Matt pulls into his driveway. 

“Tell her” was all Matt said to him

“Tell her what?” 

“Tell her you like her, you both deserve happiness. I trust her judgement, she always did know what was good for her and you, I trust you with my life man, I can trust you with her” Matt told him before getting out of the car. Luke stayed in the car for a few minutes gathering his thoughts before headed into the house. 

“Hey” he smiled at Kristy who was in the living room, she looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. 

“Hey Luke, how are you ?” 

“I’m good, how are you ?” 

“Very pregnant” she laughed, Luke chuckled making his way over to her and gave her a hug. Kristy knew why he was there, Matt wasn’t the only one with profiling skills in the house. 

“She’s in the backyard” Kristy gave Luke’s hand a squeeze, Luke had an amused look on his face as if Kristy wasn't supposed to know about his crush on y/n. Luke whispered a thank you to her before heading to the backyard. 

You sat on the swing hanging from the tree, you had been there when Matt put it up. Kristy had a vision of a swing from her tree and Matt being the husband he is, made her vision a reality. The sound of footsteps filled your ears, too heavy to be Kristy or the kids and too light to be Matt’s, you look up to see Luke standing in front of you. 

“Hey there agent, here to arrest me ?” you stick your hands out in front of you, the blush you saw this morning was back. “Kidding Luke, what’s up ?” you asked him, he leaned against the tree watching you swing back and forth. 

“Just wanted to see how you were doing after this afternoon” 

“Oh the parking lot thing ? I'm fine, are you okay ?” 

“I’m good too” 

Silence filled the air, you swung back and forth on the swing while your feet dangled above the ground. Luke stood in front of you, his hands on the rope stopping you from swinging again. You looked up at the man who was looking down at you. 

“I came here to tell you something” Luke says.

“I’m listening” you look at him.

“I like you” he admits.

“That’s cool, I like you too” you reply casually.

Luke gives you a look, only then did you realize that he meant he liked you, as in he was attracted to you and not he likes you as a friend. “Oh you like like me?” you said making Luke chuckle, “yes y/n, I like like you” he admitted to you. 

This whole scene made you feel rather childish in some ways. Your older brother’s friend was towering over you while you sat on a swing like a child and he admitted he had feelings for you, especially after you asked if he “like likes’ you. 

“Well for your information, I don’t like you” you said rather bluntly. Luke’s smile dropped from his face. “Oh okay” he turned on his heels and made his way to the fence, you sat on the swing and realized he wasn't coming back towards you. 

“Luke!” you shouted as you ran after him, meeting on the front lawn, he stopped and looked at you. “I was only kidding” your hands cupped his face, “I do like you, a lot.” you admitted. 

“Do you like like me though y/n?” he asked seriously. 

“Yes Luke, I like like you” you rolled your eyes playfully. 

Luke pulled you closer to him by your waist as he leaned down towards you. You were on your tiptoes, his hands on your hips to hold you before you toppled over. Luke’s lips met yours right as the sprinklers on the front lawn turned on. 

The two of you stood on the lawn, the sprinklers soaking your clothes without a care in the world.

All you could think about was Luke. 

----

taglist: @aaronhotchnerr​ @mac99martin​ @aaron-hotchner187​ @luke-alvez​ @iconicc​ @tclaerh​ @lieberhers​ @pumpkin-reads​ @ssa-holmes​ @katexrichardson​ @sluttytears​ @thelukealvez​ @scandinavian-punk​ @haleymalaffey​ @sunnymulti

[gifted-burnout-archive]

The Other Side of Hollywood

Part One

Requested?: fuck no, I wrote this one all for my ownsome.

Word Count: 4.0K+

Author’s Note: My GOD! Julie and the Phantoms is amazing, and while I have the theory I enjoy it so much because I didn’t really have a ‘teenage years’, I really don’t give a shit. I’m writing Luke Patterson fluff and you can all suck it!

Warning: um, none yet. This is a very PG show so PG fic.

Context: This is a reader insert mini series. It goes from 1x05 of JATP until the end, I’ll be releasing a part every day/two days. It is Luke x Reader, as much as I love my Juke ship, so Luke and Julie’s relationship is a lot more friendly than in the show. Also, some scenes may be different, dialogue from the show is used, yada yada.

--

Some might not believe it, but life starts, properly starts, when you die. At least, it did for Y/N Y/L/N.

Her life on earth had been short, and dull, and ended tragically with plenty left undone: it didn’t surprise her that she came back as a ghost. If anything, she would have been a bit shocked if she hadn’t: she had, after all, died with so much potential wasted, so much she could have done.

She was lucky that Caleb had found her.

“5 minutes ladies!” A voice called from afar, receiving a chorus of ‘thank you five’ from around the dressing room as performers hurried to get the last of their makeup and hair done, readying for that’s night’s performance, and knocking Y/N from a stupor. She came back to reality, taking the lid off the lipstick she had been playing with for the last ten minutes and finally applying it, then proceeding to take the curlers out her hair and slip on her heels for the night. Caleb had mentioned for her to be on the look out for special guests in front, and she had dressed in her best costume for the occasion.

She heard a sigh of relief as she finally moved from the mirror, a few of the girls crowding the vanity to start applying their finishing touches, none of them brave enough to interrupt Y/N’s ponderings: she may have died at 17, but none of the dancers had been with the club as long as she had, none were as faithful to Caleb as she was.

She had been his right-hand woman for almost 25 years now, some of the staff had barely been there a quarter of that time.

Her heels clicked as she headed for the stage, blowing a pin curl from her face and tucking it back into place as she took a spot on the stage and looked out at the crowd forming: from the looks of it, that night would be their busiest all week. The lifers were starting to settle at tables, collecting the last drinks before the opening number of the evening, mingling with excitement in the air and secrecy on their lips: they were getting to experience something forbidden, something beyond reality, after all.

She scanned the room, looking for the familiar face she had grown to love over the past decades, finally finding him stood in his best tuxedo – which consisted of a tailcoat, patterned black and gold shirt, and a pair of tailored board shorts – at the foot of the staircase with three boys around the same age as them, all watching in awe as lifers passed through them and proceeding to question her best friend.

“Willie!” She called, running over with a wave and a smile to him and the trio, getting a good look at them all as Willie’s arm came around her waist and hugged her into his side. The first, a familiar looking tall, lanky blonde kid in a jean jacket that Y/N was sure was the guy Willie had been gushing over just an hour or so earlier; the second was the tallest, close to a foot taller than Y/N herself, with quiffed black hair slicked back with gel, dressed like a new age Rockstar in leather and red colours. And then the third, with a dopey grin and a mop of chocolate hair on his head, paired with a painted denim overcoat and obscure band tee underneath, who unashamedly looked her over as she stood at Willie’s side.

“Guys, this is Y/N, my best friend.” Willie introduced her to be met with raised eyebrows from the three. By appearance alone, Willie constantly in a state of casual skater attire, and Y/N stood in front of them with pin curls, high heels and a blue sequin number that accentuated every one of her features, it just didn’t seem like they could be friends. “She looks a lot different in the day time.”

“Very funny William.” Y/N quipped back, elbowing him playfully in the side. “Why don’t I show you all to your table?” She offered, holding out a hand to the one in the leather jacket, who took her hand with a slack jaw and dumbfounded nod of the head.

“Yes, yes please.” He managed, and Y/N led the four down to their table, front and centre. “I’m Reggie, by the way. And that’s Alex and Luke. We’re in a band… Actually, we’re here tonight because-” Reggie started to ramble, but Y/N held a manicured finger to his lips, an innocent smile on her face.

“We don’t talk business here. You sit down and enjoy the show, alright? I’m sure Willie can keep you company, sort you boys out.” She said with a flirty tone, a habit she had grown into working the HGC scene: easier to flirt with the guests, often means a bigger pay-out by the end of the night. Willie pulled out a chair for Alex, the blonde one, who smiled shyly at her friend and sat down, Luke the last to take his place at the table.

“Y/N, is it?” He asked, looking her over a second time. He sat back in his chair, a smirk on his face as she came closer, her hand resting on the back of his chair.

“Careful there handsome, I don’t fraternise with guests.” She laughed a little as she said it, blowing a kiss in his direction before disappearing back stage for the show, soon to start. It took Luke a second to look away, to focus back on what the three had come there for: their old bandmate had stolen their music, passed it off as his own, and they were quite intent on making him pay.

“Ok, so, who’s going to make us visible so we can confront our old band mate?” He asked Willie, looking around the room at the lifers, wondering if one of them had the same weird power Julie seemed to possess.

“Oh, no, no, none of these lifers have the power to do that.” Willie corrected, just as music started up from the stage. “Oh, but here comes the ghost who does.” Willie drummed his fingers on the table in excitement, leaving the three bandmates rather confused. Willie had brought them there with no real information about what or who they were meeting.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a male voice announced from nowhere in particular, “Back from the dead by popular demand, please welcome Caleb Covington.” The words were met with applause and cheers from the crowd, Willie letting out a few whoops and prompting the boys to start clapping as in a puff of purple smoke, a man appeared in the middle of the air.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, reaching his arms out in a gesture of thanks to the loving crowds, dressed in black and purple satin. He was met with a collective ‘hell yeah’ from the audience, causing Reggie, Luke and Alex to share side glances, all a little on edge. “I did too!” He responded, met with laughter and more cheers. “Welcome to the party of your dreams!” He introduced, his voice commanding attention and respect, not to mention his floating in mid-air. “From the Egyptians to the Druids, to the person sitting next to you, we’ve all wondered ‘where do we go when that final light is snuffed out’?” The bandmates couldn’t deny, this Caleb guy was certainly intriguing. “Let me show you.

“Let me introduce myself, we’ve got some time to kill. Consider me the pearly gates to your new favourite thrills.” He moved forward in the air, floating closer and closer to the boys’ table at the front, and Luke couldn’t help but feel that Caleb was singing to them, to him. “We could go make history or you could rest in peace, but here there ain’t no misery cause on the other side we live like kings.

“Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do? Let your body loose, let your body loose. Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do? Show you a thing or two cause you ain’t seen nothing…” With a flick of his cape as he landed down, the stage suddenly filled with musicians and dancers, all ghosts that had been invisible to even the four dead boys in the front.

“Life, is good on the other side of Hollywood.” The song continued, and as his counterparts took in the full ensemble on stage, Luke found his eyes drifting to the girl they had met, Willie’s friend Y/N. She had managed in the few moments from leaving to arriving on stage to have sprayed a lock of her curls blue, and come into possession of a feather fan the same colours as her dress. Another girl stood across the stage in the same attire, except she also sported a blue wig and headpiece, which it seems Y/N had forgone.

Luke had reason to stare of course: not only was she beautiful, but a talented dancer, and as Caleb sang away she joined in on backing vocals, the pair linking arms as she danced around him, then spun into a dip, Caleb’s arm holding her steady as she fluttered her fan. Movement around them snatched his attention from her, waiters in pink suits coming from all sides to form a circle around Caleb.

What followed was a barrage of temptation: from the countless desserts circling past to the girl that appeared from under their table cloth to the trapeze artists and the dancing that got everyone on their feet and cheering along. It was only after Caleb ended the number by disappearing thanks to the help of Y/N and her fellow fan girl that the room finally settled down a little.

“This is so cool…” Reggie muttered, waving to some lifers across the room: they could see him, see them: actually see them.

“Dude, I knew I recognised him.” Alex gestured, pulling Reggie’s attention from his apparent visibility and Luke’s from scanning the room for a certain girl in blue. “He’s the guy that bumped into me outside the Orpheum.”

“Wait. Isn’t he that magician dude that died a horrible death doing a trick?” Reggie asked Willie, who laughed a little in response.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t bring that up whenever we meet him.” Alex scolded Reggie, who rolled his eyes in response.

“Yeah, but you should come back when he shows one of his movies.” Willie interjected with a grin. “I mean, for Titanic, he literally floods the entire place. I mean, the guy has got skills.”

“Alright, but he can, like, wave his arms and make ghosts visible to lifers?” Luke asked, perhaps the most rooted in reality after the performance, still quite set on their goal for coming here, for cutting it short of their performance with Julie.

“Told you, the guy’s got skills.” Willie shrugged, and Reggie looked back at the stage.

“So, uh, where’d he go?” He asked, taking a glance into the stage wings before turning back round and jumping back about a foot in surprise, Caleb stood right behind Alex and Luke. “Oh wow! Found him! Ha!”

“Hello boys, Caleb Covington. Welcome to the Hollywood Ghost Club.” Caleb introduced himself, a smile on his face and the accent of a fifties radio presenter. “Enjoying the show?” He asked, and Luke took lead.

“That was… I mean… Did you… Like…” He tried to articulate it, but found his mind going back to the girl in the blue dress and went a little red, and gave up trying to find the words, letting his appraising arms fall to their sides.

“I know.” Caleb responded with a light chuckle.

“This is Alex, Luke, and Reggie.” Willie introduced them all to Caleb.

“it’s really nice to meet you.” Alex offered, Reggie following it with a peace sign and a ‘sup?’, which put a smile on Caleb’s face.

“The pleasure is all mine. Nothing warms my heart more than sharing this magic with new friends.” Caleb explained, gesturing for the boys to take a seat as he took one of his own. “Now, our friend Willie here tells me you guys have some magic of your own?” He questioned Alex, who’s eyes widened at the man’s quizzing.

“Willie and I? I wouldn’t call it magic exactl-” Alex started his response, his voice getting squeakier as he went on, but was quickly cut off by Willie’s hand on his shoulder.

“He means your ghost abilities. You know, like, to be seen by everybody when you play with Julie.” Willie corrected. Alex started an apology, but Caleb raised a hand, showing it wasn’t needed.

“Yeah, but we can’t really wave our arms and do all this magic stuff.” Luke added, but Caleb didn’t seem phased by his humbling of their ability.

“Well, I’ve had some practice. Our gifts are so rare, so special. It’s not often I come across other spirits who possess similar talents.” Caleb explained. “It’s no surprise we found each other.”

“Yeah, that… definitely…” Luke agreed, and Caleb smile briefly, standing from his chair.

“If you’ll forgive me fellas, I gotta go pay the bills, if you know what I’m saying. I’ll be back later to chat.” The host excused himself, all of their eyes following to find Willie’s friend Y/N stood in a black dress, waiting for Caleb. “My darling! Oh, look at that dress! Where have you been?” He asked her.

Unbeknownst to the bandmates, Willie and Y/N shared a glance as Caleb took her by the waist and led her towards the back stage area, and Willie checked the time.

9.10… The boys were late to their gig, and if the Hollywood Ghost Club had anything to do with it, they would never arrive.

--

As the night continued on, and after Reggie learned the shocking revelations that not only was Han Solo killed in the Star Wars franchise, but that they added a character named Jar Jar Binks, Willie found himself fleeing for a moment. He had spent the entire night with Alex, and the more time he spent with him, the more he liked the guy.

Willie needed some air, a break, and in searching for it he ran into Y/N.

“Aren’t you meant to be out there? Flirting with the lanky one?” She asked with a teasing tone, running her fingers through her curls, slowly separating them into waves. “He’s cute, I’ll give you that. And your type. And dead, which is a huge bonus. I’m tired of watching crush over men you can’t actually touch.”

“Yeah well… He was asking too many questions, didn’t want to spook him.” Willie shrugged, rubbing his arm. He didn’t like the feeling in his stomach, and Y/N could tell he felt off.

“Do you need to sit this out? I can keep them entertained; I have a feeling the one in denim has arms like Adonis.” She offered with a giggle, and Willie frowned a little. “Oh come on, Willie… It’s not like they’re being branded or anything. We’re just…” She paused, glancing over as she spotted Caleb talking to the trio, then offering them stacked plates of food. “We’re perks to the package.” She winked at her friend, who rolled his eyes at her words and pulled her to his side for a hug.

“You make it sound like the dream job.” Willie chuckled, hanging his head a little.

“Isn’t it?” Y/N raised a brow, and squished his face between her fingers before planting a kiss on his cheek. “Let them eat for a while, join them later if you feel up to it. I’ll be getting denim on the dance floor though.” She shrugged, heading to go fix her makeup when Willie got her arm.

“His name is Luke… And from what I can tell, he’s actually a pretty nice guy.” He told her, met with a smirk and batting eyelashes.

“Just how I like them.” She replied, pulling her arm away and heading back to the dressing room, leaving Willie in a state of quandary.

By the time the final performance of the night was ready to begin, Reggie, Alex and Luke had eaten three platefuls of food each, having forgotten what pizza and burgers and meatball subs actually tasted like. And as Reggie found himself defending kissing his meatball sub to Alex, Luke felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see Y/N stood behind him with a smirk painted on red lips.

“Well, how can I be of service?” He asked her, wiping the last traces of pizza grease from his fingertips onto his jeans, earning a genuine smile from the glamour model of a woman.

“It’s what I can do for you…” She replied, holding out a hand to him. “You’ll be in need of a dance partner shortly.” She explained as Caleb took the stage, starting his monologue about how “we do dessert”.

“I thought you said you didn’t fraternise.” Luke reminded as the music started up and the dance floor filled, the room once again alive with cheers and clapping. Y/N walked backwards into the middle of the floor, Willie quickly joining her centre stage as the beat picked up on entry into the chorus and the room got to their feet.

“You’re the exception to the rule, Denim.” Y/N called back, Luke grinning at the nickname she had given him, earning a nudge from Alex. He swatted his friend playfully as the three of them watched Y/N and Willie join in a huge dance routine.

Life is good on the other side of Hollywood.

Caleb’s voice resonated in the air as waiters, showgirls, and the like all started pulling patrons onto the floor with them. Caleb approached the trio, beckoning the girl who had popped up from their table earlier that night to dance her way through each bandmate: ending with a shimmy to the floor in front of Reggie that had the poor boy near unconscious.

As one of the girls in blue took the recovering Reggie onto the dance floor, and as Alex wondered where Willie had disappeared to, Y/N made her way over to Luke and offered her hand. This time, instead of asking questions, Luke took it eagerly. He didn’t hesitate in walking her on to the dance floor though, instead pulling her close by the waist as her hands rested on his chest.

“You know how to jive?” She asked him, the pair stood still for a moment amongst the chaos around them. There was so much of it, Y/N almost didn’t notice Caleb sending Willie backstage with a flick of his finger, but she was quickly pulled from her thoughts. Luke had responded to her question by taking her hand and spinning her out before coiling her back in. Her arms went over his head, Luke spinning this time as they began kicking feet in perfect synchronicity and in time with the music. Luke pulled Y/N close, lifting her up and spinning with her, causing the girl to shriek and throw her head back in laughter.

As the song came to an end, Y/N glanced back to the stage and received a firm nod from the belting host, her cue to leave. She spun Luke out of her grasp once she hit the floor, handing him over to one of the show girls who promptly dipped him at the same time as Reggie fell for the same move, leaving both boys laughing as Y/N disappeared behind the stage.

She and Willie had both done their jobs after all, she could go back to her room for the night, get some rest. She walked over to her vanity backstage, wiping away the stage makeup, brushing out her curls, and changing into more comfortable clothes. She only stopped when she heard the gong of the club’s clock.

Midnight.

She sighed, glancing in the mirror one last time before heading out to the front of house, noticing the boys she had been acquainted with that night were no longer on the floor, instead making a bee-line for the exit. Her feet were quick to follow, slowing only when Caleb poofed into place in front of the fleeing teens.

“Gentlemen, what’s the rush?” He asked, his eyes catching on Y/N for a moment as she disappeared back into the crowds. “The party’s just getting started, and you have eternity, after all.” He reminded them with a cheerful smile.

“You know that girl who can see us? We sort of bailed on her.” Reggie began through ragged breath, thanks to Alex and Luke pulling him from the dancefloor. “See, there’s this dance at her school and her friend Flynn is a super cool DJ, like-”

“Ok, I don’t think he has an eternity to hear the story.” Alex interrupted.

“Basically, we’re late for a gig.” Luke finished, and Caleb frowned at the words, prompting an eavesdropping Y/N to step a touch closer.

“But what about my offer?” Caleb asked, raising a disapproving eyebrow.

“It’s very cool of you, Mr Covington, but, like I said, we already have a-” Luke began again, but Caleb raised his hands in defeat.

“A band of your own.” He finished for the boys, Y/N pondering it over. Had Caleb wanted the three for the house band? “I understand… But boys, if you ever want to come back and fix that little problem with your friend, the Hollywood Ghost Club is always open.”

And there it was, the final temptation.

“Yeah man, we’d love to come back.” Luke smiled.

“Music to my ears!” Caleb returned the affectionate expression, offering a hand to each of the boys in turn. With each shake, the boys pulled back, a mark becoming branded on their wrist. When they frowned at the symbol, Caleb interrupted. “Oh, it’s just a little club stamp.” He assured, and their faces lit back up again. “Until next time.” Luke was first to exit, and Y/N followed after him quickly, stopping him just before he reached the stairs to leave.

“You’ve got good feet on you…” She said with a smile, catching him by surprising and evoking a smile.

“You’re not half bad yourself…” He countered, taking a few steps closer. She held a finger up for a moment, walking over to a table on the far side of the room and picking up a pen before returning.

“Arm.” She demanded, and Luke held it out willingly. Y/N frowned for a second, noticing the marking on his wrist, but didn’t let it stop her from pushing up his sleeve and writing a phone number on his arm. “You might think it’s bizarre, but I have access to a landline. There’s one at the club. Call me if you decide on coming back… Or…” She blushed a little, and Luke grinned.

“Or if I want to call up the pretty showgirl and see her outside of the club? I will.” He assured her, puling his sleeve back down as Reggie walked out the club, his eyes widening at the pair, having to take a second glance at Y/N out of her costume: while neither he nor Luke could read minds, they were both thinking the same thing.

Y/N somehow looked even better out of her showgirl get up.

Perhaps it was the mismatched converse high tops, or the fishnet tights under her ripped shorts, maybe it was the ripped band tee displaying the iron maiden cover art, Luke wasn’t sure. But she was gorgeous, and knowing she seemed to like what he did just added to the fact.

“See you around, Denim.” Y/N smiled, lifting the collar of his jacket for a moment before letting it go and heading inside, walking past Alex as she went.

“Was that Willie’s friend?” He asked in surprise, Reggie nodding.

“I think Luke’s in love.” He teased, earning a punch on the arm from the band’s led guitarist.

“Shut it, Reggie. Now, let’s get to that dance.” Luke quickly reminded them, the three quickly disappearing with the destination of Julie’s school in mind, all of them preparing for a major scolding for being three hours late.

--

Part Two is here...

--

Tags: @im-a-writer-right​

[little-writers-posts]

Shall We Dance, Sunflower? (Elliot 'Mirage' Witt x GN Reader)

Author's Note: Hello! I wrote this because it has been on my mind for a while, so I wanted to let it out. I hope you like it! Please, excuse my writing, if anything is misspelt it is because English isn't my native language, but I did my best, :D

Warnings: SLIGHT SPOILER OF THE BOOK, if you have not read it yet it contains a bit of the lore on the book, mainly about Mirage's past.

Word Count: 2397

(Y/N's POV)

‘Meet me at the bar tonight? Got a surprise ;)’

I looked over at my phone, ‘Elliot’ was written on it and I felt my heart skip a beat.

Ever since I joined the games, I have grown close to all the other legends, however, I’ve had a soft spot for the curly haired man for a while now. We’ve been getting closer ever since we got teamed up the first time, Mirage has always been there for me, had my back in every game, even when we’re in different teams, he manages to get to me.

We’ve been meeting often at his bar, after each match. Lately, I’ve been staying a little longer than the rest of the group, even after Wraith and Rampart, Elliot and I have been talking back and forth about our lives outside of the games, getting to know each other, and surprisingly, his company is really good, and I started looking forward to our little chat at the end of each night. Most of the times I even help getting the bar cleaned and he walks me home. Slowly I’ve started to like him more and more.

It’s obvious that I find Elliot handsome, but his ways are the ones that really get to me, he may be an idiot, but sure as hell he makes me laugh like no other, and deep down he cares a lot about his friends, his family. He’s been through so much in his life, yet he still manages to have a positive view of life.

I got my phone and texted back.

‘Sure thing, handsome. What you got for me?’

‘Well, sunshine, it’s a surprise, so you’ll have to wait and see. Come by at 9 pm. :D’

I smiled and looked over at the clock, still, a couple of hours to go, so I got in the shower, got a nice set of clothing and some light makeup, nothing too fancy and then order some dinner.

When it was time, I left my apartment and went to Elliot’s bar. I noticed that the door was closed, it’s a bit weird since he usually has the bar opened at this hour. I knocked on the door and heard him urging me to go inside.

Once I got in, I saw him cleaning some of the cups, as soon as his eyes landed on me, he got a huge smile on his face.

“Welcome to the Witt’s, sunflower”

“Hey, handsome. Where’s everyone?”

“What do you mean everyone?... OH, the bar! Right, I closed it early today, didn’t have a lot of customers, so…”

“I see… So what you got for me, Witt? I’ve been looking forward to your surprise.”

I sit down on one of the stools near the counter, right in front of Elliot and let my chin rest on my hand.

“Someone’s pretty eager… Well, I… drumroll please!” He made little movements with his fingers as drumsticks while hitting the counter “I made a new bevi… bevere… cocktail!”

Elliot cheered as he shows me a couple of bottles.

“And I want you to be the first to try, sunshine! I mean, I’ve already tried it, but I want someone else’s opinion.” He said as he took out a glass and some drinks.

“Am I going to die, Elliot?” The amount of alcohol he was pouring mixing with other fruits was unbelievable.

“I’m still here, so I don’t think so. Plus, I´ll kill you in the ring, not outside. Although, I think Revenant might kill all of us in our sleep.”

“I believe he might kill Loba first, to be honest” I grinned a little “Though I think he’ll have to face Bangs first, and she won’t go easy on him.”

“You think they are a thing? Loba and Anita, I mean.”

“I don’t know, but sure as hell, they look like it, and they look cute together.”

Elliot muttered something under his breath as he finished preparing the drink.

“What was that?”

“What was what? I didn’t say anything” Elliot nearly spilled the drink when he put it in front of me.

“I didn’t know that the great Mirage was afraid of speaking what’s on his mind. Guess you are afraid of something.”

“I don’t fear anything, sunshine. Now, you are the one afraid of having a taste, right?”

“No, no, I’ll taste it… eventually.”

I smiled. The drink had a yellowish colour and the smell seemed to burn my nostrils due to the alcohol, but I brought the glass to my lips and took a sip. Elliot was looking rather nervous at me, biting his bottom lip. I took another sip.

“So… How is it? C’mon, don’t leave me hanging, (Y/N).”

I laughed a little. “It’s great, Elliot, as surprising as it may seem, it tastes really good. You should definitely put it on the menu, the guys are gonna love it.”

“Really?? You don’t think I should add anything else, lemon or…”

“No, I like it the way it is, really.”

Elliot had the widest grin I’ve ever seen.

“Do you have a name for it yet?”

“Name? No, not really, I didn’t think about it.”

“You could name it ‘The Unwitty’” I laughed.

“What does that mean?” Elliot looked confused.

“Unwitty? It usually refers to someone who’s not clever, and I believe that after a few of these, you are definitely not the brightest person in the room” I said as I looked at the half-empty glass “Also, it rhymes a little with your last name, so it could be a pun, since… well… you know… you made the drink…”

“Well, that’s a lot cleveree… cleverir… more clever than what I thought”

“And what were you thinking?”

He looked at me and ended up scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, something in the lines of sunflower, maybe… or sunshine…”

“Oh, because of the colour! I get it! Never knew a drink with a name like that, but it should work.” I smiled.

“Yeah… the colour…”

Elliot started to pack up the drinks and clean what was left on the bar. He turned his back to me as I finished the drink, so I jumped over the counter and started to clean the dirty glasses in the sink.

“Hey, you don’t have to do that (Y/N)”

“It’s alright, you know that I like helping you out, plus I got a free drink” I smiled and bumped against his shoulder.

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

We finished cleaning the rest of the bar and I leaned against the counter, Elliot did the same on the other side. However, he did have a foolish grin on his face, like he was up to someth…

“I got an idea!” he clapped his hands and smiled at me.

“This can’t be good…”

“Of course it’s a good idea! I only have good ideas, sunshine!”

“Hm… No, not always, remember that one time on the zipline across Airbase…”

“No, no, no, no, no. That doesn’t count! It was all Crypto’s fault, not mine!!” He whined at me, pointing his finger like he was schooling me which made me laughed out loud “ANYWAYS, it is still pretty early to take you home, so…”

Elliot grabbed the Bluetooth controller for his sound equipment at the bar and started to go through the songs.

“What are you doing, Elliot?”

“Choosing a song.” He smiled.

“For what, exactly?” God, I think I know where this is going…

Elliot picked a pop song, one of those popular ones that are on the radio stations and stretched out his hand, bowing slightly to me.

“Shall we dance, sunflower?”

“No, absolutely not, sorry. Not happening.”

The look on his face was hilarious, I would’ve laughed harder if it wasn’t for his genuine heartbroken expression.

“But why…?”

“Elliot, dear… I don’t dance, I’ve never danced in my life, and I know I’m terrible at it. So, I’ll spare your toes and I won’t step on you.”

“I don’t mind it. Plus, I’m a pretty good dancer, I’m sure I can lead you through it.” He smiled and this time he took the liberty to take my hand and guided me to the centre of the bar.

“Elliot, this is not a good idea.” I shook my head in disbelief.

“Shhhh… I’ll guide you. Let Mirage take the lead.”

We started slowly moving at the rhythm of the song, shifting weight from one foot to the other and soon we were swinging backwards, dipping low and then soaring into the air. Elliot never let go of my hand and guided me through every move. I never felt so carefree and happy, in a small space it was just him and me having one hell of a good time.

I have no idea how many songs went by, my heart was pounding against my chest rapidly like I was in training. And then a slow melody came into play, Elliot’s smile grew wider, and he pulled me against him, one hand on my waist, the other holding my hand.

I looked up and his face was close to mine, my heart was beating faster than before, and I thought it wasn’t possible, and all the butterflies started to fly in my stomach.

Elliot started to guide me through the song once more, this time in a very slow rhythm, one step at a time.

“You’re doing great, sunshine.” He praised.

I felt my cheeks getting warmer and I looked away, anywhere but his face.

He then tried a turn, however, he stopped midway through, and pushed my back against his chest, the arm on my waist circled all the way as he hugged from the back, his other hand still holding on to mine. He leaned his face against mine, so our cheeks were touching. I felt like my breath got caught up in my throat and everything around us stopped.

We were still swinging slightly, but I could feel him moving his face, and then slowly he left a kiss on my neck.

And then another kiss.

And then another kiss.

And the last kiss had me shiver all over. He noticed.

“Seems like I found a sweet spot… Right?”

I smiled.

“Hm… I don’t know, maybe you should try it again, just to make sure.”

He chuckled, turning me back to face him. This time we were much closer than the last, so much that the tips of our noses were barely touching.

We stood still for what it felt like an eternity, I was too afraid to move, I didn’t want to ruin anything.

Elliot looked down, staring at my lips as he gulped.

“Damn… I want to kiss you so bad…” He whispered.

“Why don’t you…?”

“I’m scared, (Y/N).”

“Wha..”

I tried to look back into his eyes, but Elliot held me closer, and I had to rest my forehead against his shoulder.

“All my life, (Y/N), I saw the ones that I care about, the ones that I love, leaving me. I saw friends die, disappearing, leaving. It started with my father, who barely even knew me. Then, my brothers I couldn't even have a proper goodbye, because no one cared to try to find them. My mom is slowly leaving me, with each passing day her memory gets worse and I fear the day she won’t remember me at all and I…”

He was shaking a little which had me hugging him even more, trying to encourage him to talk to me.

“Elliot.”

“I can’t stand the thought of you leaving me, (Y/N), in any way. Makes my heart sting, my breath disappears, and my all body physically hurt. If anything happens to you while you’re with me, I’ll never forgive myself, I want to keep you safe, but it seems like I bring bad luck to everyone that I’m close to, and I can’t do that to you, (Y/N), not you…”

“Elliot, look at me.” I tried to push him lightly, but he wouldn’t let go. “Please, please look at me.”

He loosened his grip on me a little. I manage to look back into his eyes, and I realise that I’ve never seen those eyes that sad, bearing so much pain, that it started to hurt me too.

“Elliot, listen, I’m not going anywhere. I know how to defend myself and I’m here to stay, you’re stuck with me, at least as long as you’ll have me. If anything, you’ve been my good luck charm, ever since I joined the games you’ve had my back, you’re there for me every single time, you make me laugh more than anyone has ever made me, when I’m with you I’m genuinely happy like I have no cares in the world. We all have our ghosts, but we’re here to fight them, I’m here to help you, Elliot. You are the life and soul in every place you go, how could you ever be bad luck? You have a golden heart, and don’t tell yourself otherwise. Please, Elliot… I…”

He didn’t let me finish.

He held my check in his hand and leaned in, kissing me.

I never felt anything like that before, like he was made for me, all my thoughts were clouded by the feeling of his lips on mine. I reached my hand to the back of his neck, pampering with the hairs there.

I felt his tongue pushing its way into my mouth, and I let it. My heart was beating louder in my chest, my hands were shaking, but I wanted him to know how much I cared, how much I wanted him, how much I loved him, just him.

We fell breathless and broke the kiss, leaning our foreheads against each other.

“You have no idea, how long I’ve wanted that, and how much I needed you, (Y/N).”

I smiled and hugged his neck, pulling him more to me. His hands were massaging my back, up and down.

“My heart is beating so fast, it feels like it’s gonna jump out of my chest, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before, with anyone… Can we do it again?”

“Oh, Elliot, you don’t have to ask that. Of course, you can.”

He leaned in and we kissed once more.

If this is dancing… We definitely need to do that more often.

[rosequartzwriting]

Green and Gold

Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader

Description: During a visit to Asgard, Stephen is protective over you since Loki always seems to not be able to take his eyes off you. 

Warnings: Non

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Originally posted to Quotev / I like this one :3

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

The frantic rainbow lights disappeared and you stumbled to get your balance on the solid ground that you were thrown on. Stephen was there to help steady you, at hand at your waist with the other at the ready to prevent you from falling over. You wondered why you all could not just travel here through a slingring portal. But Thor insisted you take the Bifrost. To 'get the experience' he had said before he called for it. The knowing smirk on Stephen's face in that moment told you that you might regret this.

In little time you found yourself in Asgard.

Stephen would come here occasionally to discuss relations between mystical threats and threats to the realms. You came along this time. You wanted to see Asgard, Thor wanted you to come along, but Stephen was hesitant to let you come. He told you that someone needed to watch over the Sanctum while he was gone, you made Wong do it instead. He said Asgardian magic is hard to understand, you reminded him that you were advanced now in your mystical studies that you could keep up. He said that it would only be a night or two, you said that you did not want him to leave you for a night or two.

You won and had convinced him. So now you were at the entrance of Asgard, having just experienced being magically thrown across the universe with possible whiplash and your lunch threatening to come up.

Thor, holding his beloved hammer in one hand, looked over at you. "What did you think, Lady (Y/N)?"

"I think I'm gonna be sick." You mumbled.

Stephen patted you on the back, "You'll be alright." There was a slightly amused tone in his voice and that gave you a sudden urge to kick him in the shins.

You had ended up in the middle of a room that was golden and shaped like a dome. There were circular patterns on the walls and in the centre golden steps that lead to a little pedestal that held a sword. Someone was holding that sword, and you were introduced to Heimdall who was the protector of the Bifrost. He bowed to you like you were important and you returned with a bow of your head. Just outside the room, you could see the bridge sparkling with the same rainbow colours as the way you had gotten here. Beyond the long bridge was the castle in the distance.

Thor gestured for you to follow him, so you fell into step beside Stephen as you exited the small structure. You were now walking on the Bifrost bridge. The view you saw before you was absolutely breathtaking. The glittering bridge was just the beginning. Underneath it was a roaring river of clear water. The palace was beautiful, the structure standing as tall as the mountains in its background. The buildings of the surrounding city were sparkling everywhere. You have seen so much since becoming a sorcerer, but this was something else.

Stephen saw the smile on your face and the look of awe in your eyes. This made him smile, and he was suddenly glad he brought you here. He always loved showing you new things, fueling your curiosity and experiencing new things with you. But there was a little worry in the back of his mind that would not go away.

There was one reason, above all others, that Stephen did not want to bring you along.

Loki would be here.

He hated the way he looked at you. He hated his very being because of it. And the knowledge that you and him would be in the same place made his blood boil. Ever since that time Loki showed his face in New York and he had to take him to prevent him from doing anything, and he looked at you up and down like that, he disliked the god so much. And he was so nice to you, and you were nice to him. Whenever Stephen went to Asgard and ran into Loki, he would ask about you. Stephen did not like it.

But your reaction to the city and planet, and you had just gotten here, made the worry go away a little. He would be by your side anyways, to keep Loki away if he was going to try anything. He would throw the cloak around your shoulders to have it hide you away if he needed to. But at the moment he focused on being with you for your first impressions of Asgaurd and not worry too much.

~~~

You were awoken by a light touch and someone softly shaking you awake. The sleepiness was not shaken however, you groaning in protest as you cuddled up even more into the covers of the soft, silken sheets and thick comforter.

There was a chuckle and you new who it was from the deep tone. You lazily opened your eyes and saw Stephen looking down at you, already dressed and seeming wide awake. The sun was shining through the large window with the beautiful view of Asgard. It looked like the world was awake, but you were not ready to drag yourself out of bed.

"I have the first meeting this morning. Thought maybe you would want to come along but looks like you don't want to get out of bed."

You simply let out another sleepy groan.

Then you did a double take, noticing what he was wearing.

He had on his Cloak of Levitation, but underneath that was something different. He had swapped out his regular blue robes for an Asgardian version. It was made in a different style, but it still resembled his old robes. The blue was more rich in its colour, more royal and regal looking. The wrappings were lined with a golden fabric on the edges, it went really well with his signature red and blue. It was a very stark contrast between the one you were used to seeing him wear verse this new one. But you loved it. Seeing all the beautiful clothing everyone wore here made you happy, and seeing a piece like that on Stephen was astonishing.

"You like it?" He caught you staring.

"I love it," You said groggily but happily, running a hand through your hair and sitting up in the bed.

Straightening the cloak over his shoulders, he leaned over and kissed you on your forehead. "I should head to the meeting now. We'll be done before lunch." With that he left your shared guest room, closing the large door behind him.

You wanted to fall back asleep, but it did not overtake you. It was one of those moments where you just laid there cause you were already awaken. But you wanted to sleep. But you couldn't. So you stared out the window, looking out at the pretty mountain peaks and wondering what that first meeting was about. You also wondered about the other things you were going to do while on this foreign planet. Tour of the scenery, trying more of that delicious food (you were dying over it last night at dinner), learning about its history. Maybe you would learn a little Asgardian magic while you were here. The idea of that gave you a little excitement.

A little while later, while you were lost in a daydream, there was a knock on your door. You got up and grabbed a silk robe that was on a chair by your bedside. "Come in," You said, wrapping and tying the robe over yourself. Two women came through the door, maids of the castle you assumed.

One was holding a pile of neatly folded up fabric in her hands. You got excited.

The two introduced themselves and said that Frigga sent them to wake you and get you ready for breakfast. Since the meeting was going on between Odin, Stephen, Thor, and a few others, Frigga decided to have a little breakfast gathering for you. The women were so sweet, making small talk and asking you about Midgard as they prepared you a hot bath and did your hair in a fancy braid down your back that resembled a French braid.

The moment you were anticipating soon came, and they helped you get dressed.

The dress you were presented with was a deep forest green with golden embellishments. Silk fabric sat in long layers down the skirt, trailing out longer at the back. The neckline did not dive too deep down your chest, just enough for subtlety. The  short sleeves clung to the sides of your upper arms, shoulders exposed above the folded layers. The gold piece wrapped around your waist as a belt helped bring out the details. The length slightly dragged on the floor, looking elegant and glittering in the sunlight. You felt like an Asgardian princess wearing it.

It reminded you of someone. Then you wondered who had picked it...

One of the girls topped off your look with a golden pin in your hair, shaped like a flourishing lily tucked above your right ear. The two admired their work and you thanked them from the bottom of your heart. The girl you saw in the mirror was so different then yourself. You saw an Asgardian goddess, not a sorcerer.

You asked them for directions after thanking them a second time, knowing you would get lost in the giant palace. They told you where to go, curtsying to you as a goodbye. You did it back, pulling up the fabric of your dress to feel a little more into it. With one last look in the mirror, and pulling your shoulders back, you made your way out of your guest room and down the correct hallway.

You were directed to a drawing room that was down a tall staircase and a few doors to your left. There was a guard in front of the wooden door, but upon seeing you he bowed and held it open for you. The room inside was not too large, but the big open window gave the impression that it was. Decorated just as nicely as the rest of the place, this room was no exception to the royal aspect and medieval aesthetic to the palace. There were a few comfy chairs surrounding a low table, where Frigga greeted you with a warm smile.

Sitting in the seat beside her was Loki. You had not seen him yesterday when you had arrived. This made you wonder why he had not said hello to you then along with everyone else. He also was not at dinner last night. Weird. He held a tea cup in one hand as he leaned back in his chair, cradling its saucer in the other hand. Seeing Loki sipping tea from a pretty cup with his pinky finger jutting out was a different sight, a contrast to his darker persona you knew was hidden beneath.

You hugged Frigga, which she insisted on, and you sat down with them. You all chatted over breakfast and you sparking up conversation with Loki was a little awkward at first, but once you opened up a little it flowed easily. The tea was amazing and the little pastries laid out on nice platters were absolutely delicious. Frigga asked about your magic skills, and you both began to exchange stories about magic. You had a great time and you were glad you got out of bed for this. Soon Frigga had some business to take care of and had to cut this little gathering short.

When you left Loki caught up with you in the hallway.

"It has been a while since we have seen each other, Lady (Y/N)."

A lot of the people here were calling you that. And people you did not even know knew your name, which always kind of threw you off for a second or two. That told you that you were known here, from either Thor or Stephen talking. The whole 'Lady' thing was out of respect you assumed, and you did not mind.

"It has." You replied as you both walked down the hall together, "It was nice to see you again, Loki."

"How are you liking it here?" He asked with a smile.

"I love it!" You beamed, "It's beautiful, the food is amazing," You then gestured down to the dress you were wearing, "and the clothes are stunning."

He chuckled, "Green looks good on you."

"Easy for you to say, it's your favorite."

"No no," He sputtered, and you thought he looked a little...flustered? "You genuinely look beautiful in green."

A little heat ran up to your cheeks. "Oh, thanks."

There was a balcony up ahead where you saw sunlight streaming in. You picked up your pace to go look out of it, Loki right behind you. It was overlooking the back of the castle, where you could see a beautiful garden down below, before the landscape stretched out into more of the city and the mountains beyond.

For a second or two you wondered what was past those peaks. If the planet simply stopped there, or if there were forests or towns or lakes or anything else that you wanted to discover. This whole place was full of beauty and the idea that there was a possibility for more was just a little overwhelming. But you loved it.

"I'm happy you like my home." Loki leaned on the railing, looking out at the city with you. "Although it was not always considered my home."

"What do you mean?" You asked. You noticed a sadness in his eyes now.

"You know my history."

At that moment you realized what that sadness was. Probably memories flashing through his mind. You did know his history. Lied to all his life, being overcome by the sadness and anger and wrath and desire for revenge. You knew what that lead to, the New York event and everything that came with and after that. Right now, he was allowed freedom back in his home for 'rehabilitation' of sorts, offered a second chance. Not knowing what that was like, you could not relate, but you knew he had gone through pain. It was even painful to see it in his eyes.

"So do you consider it home again?" It was all you could think of to say.

He shook his head in a light nod after a second to think, the look on his features exchanged for one with a small smile. A weird thought crossed your mind, you had not seen Loki smile this much before.

The two of you stood there looking out at the city below, watching the people of Asgard go about their days. It was a calm silence that fell, not a line of tension or heavy weight of awkwardness at all. Just a calm.

"Hey," Loki said out of nowhere, and you turned your head to look at him as he spoke up, "your outfit is missing something."

You raised an eyebrow at him, coming off as almost sarcastic. "Oh?"

A smirk sneaked up on his face and you knew he was going to do something. You braced yourself for whatever it might be, good or bad or a mix of both. With a flicker of green magic, an object materialized in his hands. It was his helmet, shining gold with the curved horns. It was so polished that you could see your reflection in it.

Then he was holding it out to you.

"Oh no, I couldn't."

Loki cocked his head to the side and shrugged with a smile, again with the smiling, "Why not?"

A pause, you did not say anything because you had nothing to say. Something about it was very tempting, but it also felt forbidden. Like if you were to put it on you would be overcome by some spell or just a wave of emotion. Or just the thought of wearing something that was considered 'crown-like', because you were not royalty or a goddess or someone with high power. But it was all calling your name, with a glint of gold.

"I insist." Loki added.

After another moment's pause, you let him put the helmet into your hands. It was lighter than you expected it to be, with pure gold usually being heavy. Probably not made of pure gold then. Just a trick of the eye.

Without waiting anymore, you slowly rested the helmet on your head. Right away you noticed it was a little big on you. It was not made to fit your head, obviously, but you felt something while wearing it. Maybe honour, or pride. Or maybe just pure 'slyness', the same energy that Loki often channeled.

"Looks good." Loki beamed.

"I'm dressed like you," You snapped jokingly, "that's why you think I look good."

He laughed and you did too. Maybe I should wear more green, you told yourself.  

As you both continued to watch the city below and make small talk, from down the hall you could hear footsteps. Maybe guards or other people of the palace, you presumed. But as they approached, they got louder. And they got quicker. Heavy boots, you deduced. But suddenly they stopped.

"Nice view."

You nearly jumped out of your skin as Stephen had suddenly appeared right beside you. So those were his footsteps. You had not expected him to be out of the meeting for another while, but there he was. Him and that damn short-range teleportation spell he just loved to use for some reason. There were too many instances of him appearing out of nowhere back home and it resulted to you being more jumpy nowadays. He had positioned himself between you and Loki you noticed. Loki looked just as surprised as you were, the trickster being tricked.

"Where did you come from?" Loki scowled

"Down the hall." He answered blankly. You stiffed a laugh at his demeanor, sly and confident, when realization hit you that those were aspects of his jealous and protective side coming out. Oh boy, here we go...

"I'm surprised you're out of bed," Stephen looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, which made you chuckle. You saw a tiny twitch in the corner of his eye, and something told you that it had something to do with the god opposite you and the headpiece you were now wearing.

Stephen reached forward and gently lifted the gold helmet off your head, care in his eyes and shaking fingers. Once it was off, he (not so subtly) aggressively threw it at Loki's chest who stumbled to catch it, all trace of gentleness gone. Loki gave him a mock offended look, but Stephen's own hard expression was not phased. Your eyes quickly darted between the two, seeing the tension that had now thickened the air.

"Should't you be at a meeting with Odin?" Loki said. You noticed he did not say my father.

"Oh we finished early," Stephen replied in a light tone, trying to one-up the god while bringing out his ego's confidence. "we're having another one this evening however."

Loki looked like he did not know what to do, which made an amused smile spread across the sorcerer's face. Then he straight up asked, monotone voice dropping to sound flat and serious, "Why was she wearing your helmet?"

"Because...it matches her outfit?" The god struggled to find and answer only to come up with a question instead.

"Yea, sure." Stephen mumbled, "Wonder where she got that outfit."

"Some palace maids dressed me," You chimed in, but it felt like you were invisible at the moment. There was too much testosterone in the air that was covering your existence, which made you roll your eyes.

"Green and gold are nice colours." Loki said while trying to sound convincing and innocent.

"Coincidence she's wearing them?" Stephen shot back, suspicious.

"I had nothing to do with it, Strange."

"Oh sure."

"Oh my god." You slumped against the railing and rested your face in your hands. The two went on to snap at each other and argue for a little, but it felt like an eternity. after a period of you just standing there listening helplessly, the heat started to die down.

"If you'll excuse me, Sorcerer Supreme," Loki enunciated Stephen's title like it was a forbidden word, "I should be headed to attend some business."

He tried to walk off but Stephen cut him off, "Oh what kind of business do you have to do?"

"Business that does not require a mere mortal sorcerer to stick his clever nose into!"

"Well, it looked like it was no more important then taking my girl somewhere to be alone with!" The low rumble in his voice made it a little more threatening.

With that, Loki rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it hurt. And he walked away without another word, flipping his helmet over in his hands before jabbing it on his head with visible frustration.

"Well that was a show." You said, having stood there watching the whole thing like it was a theater drama.

Stephen shrugged, "I try my best."

You laughed, "Your jealousy gets to your head."

His facial expression recoiled, "Do you enjoy my jealousy? Do you enjoy his company?"

Your jaw dropped for a second in offence, "God no, why would I enjoy making you upset?" At that you shrugged, "Although it can be amusing."

You felt a pinch on your arm which made you let out a sound of distress. Stephen chuckled, and wrapped an arm around you lovingly as you leaned against the balcony railing together.

"He was just trying to be nice, Stephen."

"I don't think he can be 'nice',"

"He was nice at breakfast,"

"You had breakfast with him?"

"I was with Frigga. He just so happened to be there."

"Okay fine."

You laughed and he gently kissed the top of your head. After a moment of quiet and peace, you felt his softly shaking hand fiddle with the sleeve of your dress, "You look very beautiful."

Blushing, you looked up at him with admiring eyes. His expression mirrored yours. He was still wearing the new robes you last saw him in, the gold linings glittering in the Asgardian sunlight. You were about to say the same thing he said to you, when his expression changed. It was his thinking face.

"What?"

Stephen must have realized something as raised an eyebrow, "There's magic in your dress."

Before you could react, Stephen waved his hand in a quick motion. Suddenly, green waves of energy flowed out of the fabric of your clothes. But they soon changed to orange sparks, Asgardian magic to Earth sorcerer magic. As they flowed over you, the colour of your dress changed. The green was replaced with blue and the gold was replaced with red. There was still a little gold here and there, lining the edges in a familiar way.

"I knew it. He must have tampered with it." Stephen grumbled.

Now your dress mimicked the colours of Stephen's clothes, their original colours. You laughed a little, the person who made your clothes thought they were clever. But also Loki thought he was clever to change it to his colours. You wondered when and why he did that, but you shrugged it off and instead admired the dress in this new perspective.  

"That's better." Stephen said, a little proud of himself for some reason.

"I like this more." You giggled.

"Me too."

The dress felt lighter and the fabric shined a little more. It was made for you, perfectly tailored to your body and with the perfect colours to match. It was perfect. And it reminded you of him so it made it all the more special. If they would not let you keep it, then you are just going to bring it home with you anyways.

"Well since the meeting was cut off early, lunch is not for another half an hour or so. What should we do till then?"

"Well~" You drew out, a smile creeping up your face, "I was looking at the gardens from here and I wouldn't mind going to see them."

Stephen smiled. He offered his elbow to you, "Then do you care for romantic stroll, Lady (Y/N)?" He put on his best English accent (which was surprisingly flawless), his naturally low voice making it all the more amusing.

With a giggle, you took his arm. Together you made your way through the castle in a swish of red and blue fabrics.

"Although," Stephen started as you both made your way down the last set of stairs that lead to the ground floor, "you did look good in the green. Even though I hate to admit it."

"Hate to admit it?" You looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Well it was Loki's trickery, but you look good regardless. As always."

[script-nef]

Presents (and other things)

Category: fluff

2k words; Shopping date [3/6]

← Previous chapter | Masterlist

Out of everyone in the whole world, the person you love most in the world is Nanami Kento, your brother. He was the one who saved you from the cursed spirit that haunted you and took your parents’ lives. He was the one who took you in so that you wouldn’t be put in the system since you were still a minor. He made sure every day that you were safe and healthy even if he was injured or exhausted after a fight.

That's why in the weeks nearing his birthday, you made sure that he would have a relaxing time. He said you didn’t have to and he’d rather have you not fret over him, but that is unacceptable. He needs to have a good birthday. If you could, you would make the whole month just about him. But the last time you tried that he sat you down for a long, scolding lecture about how it’s unnecessary. So that’s out of the option.

Right now, just a few days shy of his actual birthday, you have a problem. Because you were buried in work and have a terrible memory.

His present.

You forgot to buy a present. 

“I forgot to buy a present! Why am I so dumb… Why am I like this, Gojou? It’s literally one of the most important things with birthdays and I forgot it. Because I’m an idiot. I wish the ground would swallow me up… I deserve it…” Thuds reverberate through the room as your head makes contact with the table. Repeatedly. Hard.

Wallowing in self-hate is great but your brain starts spitting out all viable present options. 

Shopping for Ken-chan is hard because he’s not materialistic in the least. He also doesn’t have a lot of hobbies. “I don’t need presents.” is a regular phrase every time his birthday or holidays come up, but then he gives presents to you and you end up feeling worse. This is all while your brain is getting thrown around. 

A hand comes between your forehead and the desk, gently bringing it up. Gojou has a small pout as his cold fingers try to soothe the burning sensation. 

“You still have a couple of days left! Don’t bang your head against the table, your brain doesn’t work enough as it is.” He easily moves out away from your slap. But returns in time to stop your head from falling again.

“I should have remembered this weeks ago. There’s no use trying to make me feel better, Gojou. I’m a terrible sister. I deserve this pain.” His fingers poke against your cheeks and he smooshes and stretches them. It’s uncomfortable but you let him.

“I haven’t bought a present either.”

“You’ve never given him a present.”

“This is the year to start! I have to get on his good side!” That’s weird since he never cared about what Ken-chan thought of him.

 “Why?”

“We can shop together!” Classic ignoring. His face comes to level with yours. “Let’s go to Shinjuku, I’m sure there are things even Nanami will like. Also, I found a new sweets shop.” You stare at him. “But I will focus on the present for today! C’mon, I can fly us there. You’ve never flown before, right? I think it’ll help.”

For some inexplicable reason, floating in mid-air with nothing to save you other than Gojou is amazing. Adrenaline pumps through your veins at the thought of crashing down to Earth if Gojou lets go. You know he won’t though. 

The air is chilly up here and there’s constant wind makes your hair whip everywhere, getting in your mouth and eyes. It doesn’t dampen your mood.

Your arms tighten around Gojou’s neck, watching the city blink with life way underneath your feet. Well, his feet, since you’re bunched up in his embrace. 

“This is so cool! Do you do this every day?”

“Yup.” He pops the p and slowly walks closer to your destination. The world looks like a child’s playhouse. 

“No wonder you’re constantly in an amazing mood! I would do this every time I’m feeling down!” Gojou’s chuckle reverberates through his chest and into your body. 

“I can take you out again when you’re sad.” A buzz takes over your body at the thought sparkles come to life in your wide eyes.

“You would do that for me?” Gojou is an incredibly important asset and therefore also very busy, needing to take care of special-grade curses that others can’t while also teaching and looking after his three students. He couldn’t be at your beck and call, you can’t ask that from him. But the gentle smile he gives is so warm and sure, assuring you that his words are true.

“Of course I would. Any day.” His grip around your body tightens.

Something weird fuzzes in your chest. It’s not uncomfortable or bad but… unique. And foreign. You got a good report back from your physical evaluation last month so it’s not something physical. Questions about what the cause could be takes over your mind but the sudden sensation of zero gravity makes all of them fly out the window. Burying your face into Gojou’s neck, you prepare for the worst.

“And we have arrived! M’lady.” Chipper as ever, Gojou’s feet touch the ground with a light plop and he lets you down gently. You look at him in confusion until realisation kicks in. And you kick him.

“Don’t do that! I think my heart stopped!” He cackles at that, finishing with a “Won’t do it next time.” If there is a next time. The probability is reduced significantly because of what he just did. 

Taking your hand in his, he escorts you down the stairs from the rooftop and into a department store. The people who couldn’t see mere moments ago high up in the sky.

As expected, it’s loud and crowded. There are hundreds, maybe thousands of people shuffling about and sweeping everyone to move even if they wanted to. It’s fortunate that Gojou has a firm grip on your hand because otherwise you’d be completely lost. Still, it’s nice to be buried in the commotion of everyday lives. It helps you forget about the whole war that’s looming over everyone.

“Any ideas on what to get?” The question you’ve been asking yourself for the past hour or so is echoed by Gojou. “We have all the time in the world, so don’t worry. I’ll keep you company for as long as you want.” 

Blisters form on the back of your feet thanks to the amount of times you walked around the huge place. Gojou bought you bandaids even though you said Shouko can fix you up. It hurts a lot less thanks to that. Finding a present is still a challenge. Every time you think you have one, your brain comes up with a rebuttal for why Ken-chan won’t like it. Two hours and nothing to show for it, you’re on the verge of collapse. Even a quick snack break didn’t help.

Gojou sets you down on a bench, letting your head roll on the backrest. The sight of thousands of coats and jackets running around upside down makes you giggle. Maybe the stress is finally getting to your head. The mantra of “I’m a terrible sister” tries to sneak in and wreak havoc. You’re just about to let it when the upside-down brand of a designer clothing shop catches your attention. 

“Gojou.”

“Yup?” His head comes into view as he copies your posture. It must look really weird to passersby but you don’t care at all. “Got an idea?” You point to the brand. Or at least you think you do. The lack of blood in your brain is making everything dizzy. “Clothes?”

“I wanna buy him a good suit.” Standing up, swaying a little from the sudden oxygen influx, you try to drag him towards the shop. He tries to make your attempt harder by using his weight and height, but a firm glare makes him concede.

“I thought he said he doesn’t want suits.” Oh yeah, you told him that when it was rejected. Ken-chan did say that, years ago, when you bought him one for your first present. While incredibly appreciated, he reasoned that there is a high chance of it being ruined since he has to fight in them. And this was around the time when you started getting paid. It was his way of saying that you should invest it in something more durable and preferably for yourself. How does Gojou remember this when it was just a fleeting complaint that you barely remember?

“He said it’s because there’s no point in spending so much money on something that might be damaged so quickly. But I’m going to buy it for a different reason.”

Collections of suits, varied by colour and pattern, line the huge shop. Skimming over a lot of them, especially ones with questionable designs, you turn to the monochromatic area. Simple is best when it comes to Ken-chan’s taste. Shuffling through the shades, you contemplate between either beige or blue.

“What’s the reason?” Gojou’s voice calls from the change room. You wonder when he got there. 

“For him to wear it if he goes back to work in an office after the war has ended. Or just when he goes out, without the worry of getting attacked and ruined. It’ll be like a promise! That he’ll do his best to survive the war to wear it.” 

Gojou is silent in response. It drags out and now you’re sort of embarrassed about what you said. Your partner loves taking advantage of others’ sappy moments, teasing them mercilessly over it. That little speech is basically perfect ammunition against you. You expect his high voice to make fun of you.

What you don’t expect is for him to pat your head, slowly and softly, like he won’t ever get to do it again.

“Nanami must have used all his luck when he became your guardian.” Voice low, bringing shivers down your body, he cards his fingers through your hair. Like he’s combing them. Seconds tick by and it feels sort of nice, telling you to relax, but your body’s on high alert for some reason.

“I think he’d like the blue one. Since he already has a brown suit, beige is too close.” A black suit adorns his body when he comes into view. Even the shirt is black. It fits him perfectly and he looks really good in it, courtesy of a good body proportion. He could possibly pull off the hideous suits you elected to shy away from at the front of the display. You clear your throat.

“Wow, you look really good in that.” His hands smooth down the creases on the jacket, preening at your compliment. “You should buy that. Wear it to dates or whatever. Ladies will fall to your feet if you show up with that.” Holding up two blue suits, your eyes scrutinize them and you try to imagine which shade will look better on your brother.

“Ladies will fall to my feet? Really?” Amusement tinges his words. The left one looks better.

“Yeah, probably. Girls love guys in suits. Well at least, I do. If they wear the right one for them, it’s really hot. Left one is better, right?” He gives a nod, a wide grin playing on his face. “Alright, this one then. Are you buying the suit?”

“Yeah. I think it’ll be put to good use.”

The checkout is quick, and it’s night when you step out. 

“You wanna go back by flying? We can try doing the Howl thing.” That’s really tempting, being able to reenact one of the most iconic scenes in the movie. But not today. 

“No, I prefer being in your arms.” Gojou stares at you with such intensity that you can feel it even with the blindfold. Then he immediately barks out a laugh, one so loud that people nearby flinch at the sudden noise. You flinch at the sudden noise.

“Ah… You really keep me on my toes, you know.” Before you can ask what that means, he takes your hand again and starts walking to the stairs. His steps are faster than usual.

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