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#The love/hate with the white dog is great
sunnywalnut · 2 days
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One thing I really hate about the "autism is my super power" archetype is that it REALLY makes me feel inadequate when people compare me to these guys.
Like Sheldon Cooper or the guy from The Good Doctor. They're all successful, cishet white men. They've been through college at a young age, and sure. I was gifted in certain classes. But in others? I couldn't concentrate. It was too loud. Or too many people. Or too bright. Or too whatever.
My "superpower" wasn't math or history. It was memorizing dog breeds and calling them out on the street. Or finishing two novels in one day.
But it wasn't recognized as a superpower.
It was "recognized" as me correcting people on the average lifespan of whatever dog I had at the time. Or the things that the breed usually liked versus what somebody else thought they did. Or me sneaking glimpses of my book during class, and reading underneath my desk. It was me ignoring my elementary teacher when she called us for rug time because I was finishing the chapter of my story and couldn't put it down as easily.
And sure. They encouraged my reading. And I've gotten into a couple advanced classes that I otherwise wouldn't have been in.
But in the others I was still struggling.
I had one thing going for me and that one thing wasn't enough to propel me five grades ahead like it "should have."
I was the smart kid. Because I could memorize formulas and definitions in science and math class. Everyone was in awe of my low A's and high B's. But I wasn't a prodigy.
Just because I could memorize things didn't mean it was easy to learn.
Learning was the hard part.
And that's what nobody got.
How could I be struggling, if all this time I was getting near perfect scores?
Even after my diagnosis. I never was allowed out of class to take tests. Even when allergy season hit and I bombed a test because the boy behind me was sniffling up a ruckus. I was told I could retake it. To study next time and do better.
I never really learned how to study.
Studying was overwhelming. So I didn't do it. Nobody cared.
After all. I was getting near perfect scores.
Homework took hours. Four of them, to be exact. I never knew why. It was always so much easier in class.
But now I know it was because I have ADHD. And I was burnt out.
So I barely had free time after school.
Except for art.
Art was always there for me. I could always take the time to do something. And it was easier to put down, even if it was incomplete. Because I knew I could go back to it. I didn't have to pull out and reconstruct everything again, like a puzzle. I could go right back to where I started. And that was wonderful.
So I became good at it.
I became great.
Everyone loved it. The praise, the encouragement, the delight was almost too much to bear. I learned to crave it.
And yet.
Everyone was still surprised.
When I told them I wanted to be an artist.
Because apparently.
Your "superpower" is only good if it makes you money.
And who would invest in art?
Instead of being a doctor?
The answer is me.
It's always me.
I'm the mediocre autistic person with a difficult niche.
I don't have a superpower. Or a college degree. Or baby pictures of me playing the violin.
But I'm autistic.
Isn't that enough?
Where are the people like me in the media?
I can go outside and find at least three different Neurodiverse people like me in my town. But nearly NONE in the media.
Why is that?
Do we not exist to you?
Or are we only tolerable when we've done something "productive"?
I don't have a superpower.
But that shouldn't make me less than.
I don't know why it does.
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6nimus9 · 2 months
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I mostly need to share this for future me to find easier, Paps is so precious /Gives Paps all the Valentine's day mail and chocolates
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yourlocalseanameduser · 11 months
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Seeing helluva boss/hazbin hotel and mitski together makes me want to rip someone's throat
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roosterforme · 11 days
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Covering the Classics Part 7 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Just when Anna starts to feel settled, a simple cookout at her friend's house turns everything upside down. Her jealousy shines through, and there's nothing she can do to try to take it back.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+
Length: 4800 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
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Things with Bob felt like they shifted back to normal again, and Anna was thankful for that. Every book she let him borrow was returned with a note folded up inside. Some of them were short and simple. When he handed back Love Letters of Great Men, the note simply said The dog eared pages are going to make me cry. But some of them were longer and more elaborate.
She was running a little late to meet him at the usual coffee shop, worried he would already be there. He seemed to end up paying for her drink every single time, which was honestly really sweet of him, but she felt like such a nuisance. When she walked inside, he was there, at a table with two steaming mugs in front of him and his nose buried in a book. In one of Anna's books. In her copy of Wuthering Heights.
Her whole body felt too warm as she thought about how much she would love to have Bob read every single one of the hundreds of books she owned. Maybe even read some parts out loud in that deep, soothing voice. She would love to hear his take on each plot and watch him blush as he called her the expert and asked for her opinions. She would love to take the book from his hands and pull him down into bed with her.
But she couldn't do that. They were just friends. So instead, she dropped down into the empty seat across from him and said, "Hi, Bob," with a smile she hoped wasn't as sad as she felt.
"Anna." Her name sounded like golden perfection when he said it, and she shivered. "This book... I can't stop reading it. I read it twice already," he said with a little laugh. "How in the world do you always know exactly what I'm going to like?"
Because she felt undeniably drawn to him and his preferences and everything about him.
"Because I'm a professional."
He laughed a little more as his pretty lake-blue eyes followed her cup as she brought it up to her lips. When the ceramic touched her, he looked away as his cheeks grew pink. He pushed the book across the table, and when she reached for it, he said, "Uh, just read that note later, okay?"
When she saw the edge of white paper sticking out from the worn pages, she said, "Sure, Bob."
He cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "Did you hear about the change of venue for tomorrow?"
Anna ducked her head. "Yeah, the girls told me about it at lunch yesterday. A cookout? Bradley wants to show off his new grill?"
Bob nodded and said, "Could be a nice change from the Hard Deck for once."
While he wasn't wrong, Anna hated that she still barely had enough money to make ends meet. San Diego was expensive, and when she asked Advanced Calculus what she could bring with her to their house to contribute to the meal, her friend said to bring hot dog and hamburger buns. Anna was already trying to figure out how to scrape together the ten dollars that would be required when Jessica said she already bought some along with chips and pretzels. When she didn't quite meet Anna's eyes, she knew for a fact that Jessica had figured her out.
"Yeah. I suppose," Anna told Bob. But at least at the Hard Deck, Penny didn't usually even charge her for the three dollar ginger ales. And if she did, one of the guys just put it on their tab like it was nothing. When she showed up empty handed to the cookout, she was going to feel awful that Jessica had covered for her. 
"You want another coffee?" Bob asked, standing with his own mug, but Anna shook her head. She couldn't let him pay for another thing. Perhaps deleting multi millionaire Dev Borah's phone number wasn't her best move. Not that she would ever take advantage of someone for their money. Not after what Kevin did to her.
"No. But thank you. I actually can't stay very long today."
Bob nodded before saying, "No worries. I have dinner plans with Suzanne before Mickey picks me up for D&D anyway."
And there it was once again. The reminder that Bob didn't think about that kiss nearly as much as she did. "I hope you have a great time."
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It was late on Saturday night, and he should have been in bed, but Bob had his computer out. He reasoned that he could sleep in as late as he wanted tomorrow before heading to pick up the burgers Bradley asked him to bring for the cookout. He could stay up as long as it took for him to finish this poem and finally post it on PoetsAmongUs after looking at it for weeks.
If anyone knew he was writing about Anna, he would probably die on the spot. But nobody in his life knew he wrote anything in his free time, let alone the fact that he wrote poetry. And this poem was getting close to needing a 'mature' label if he was going to post it online.
"What are you doing?" he asked himself softly. Somehow he believed that writing about her specifically would cleanse him of these thoughts, but now he knew he was wrong. He proofread and posted his poem anyway while his skin prickled with need. He'd never experienced the kind of love his friends had, and in spite of all of her hesitations, he could imagine it happening with Anna. If anything, he liked that she seemed cautious and contemplative, he just wished she wasn't still that way toward him. 
She made him want to keep leaving her notes in the books he borrowed from her, but she also made him feel like an idiot for wanting to do that. It was maddening. He needed to sleep, but he was too warm, imagining Anna once again in place of his faceless lover while he touched himself. He almost couldn't wait until the day when someone else would take her place in his mind, even if it meant settling.
The next day, he drove his old pickup toward the coast with the burgers and a six pack of ginger ale in tow. The Spanish revival style house that Bradley purchased before he and his wife made things official again was cute with desert landscaping, but she was the one who really made it a home. There was art hanging on the walls in every room, including a panoramic watercolor of the scenery of Virginia. The front bedroom had been turned into her home office, and for some reason, she had Bradley's fraternity paddle hanging in there. The house seemed more lived in now, and Bob knew Bradley was much happier for it.
"Hey, thanks man," Bradley told him, taking the bag of burgers when he got there. He was wearing his hideous Grateful Dead shirt and holding two cans of beer on one hand, but he still managed to give Bob a quick hug. "Sugar's out back, setting up some snacks and just generally looking hot. You want a beer?"
Bob held up the ginger ales in response and said, "Thanks, but I'll just have one of these for now." The last thing he wanted was a hangover like he had after their New Year's Eve party.
"Hi!" Jessica said as she and Jake walked inside, and she made a beeline right for Bob. "Have you given any more thought to how I should paint my barbarian?"
He just smiled as she started to push him through the kitchen toward the back door. "We just played yesterday. I didn't know you'd still be in the mood to talk about your ridiculous D&D character."
"Please," she practically whined. "You know how sensitive my barbarian is."
Bob snorted; truly he never would have expected he and she would have had so much in common, but even Jessica couldn't keep his attention once he saw who Bradley's wife was talking to. Anna had some freckles on her thighs. Her cutoff denim shorts went high enough up her legs that he was treated to the sight of freckles everywhere. And that wasn't all. Not even close. The deep "V" of her shirt revealed that there was a pretty good chance the freckles even trailed down inside her bra.
He wasn't going to survive the cookout if he had to look at her all afternoon. Her red hair was clipped up on top of her head with some sort of claw-shaped thing, and her skin was just everywhere. Her neck and her legs and the swell of her breasts. Her fingernails were burgundy again, just like the first day he saw her. She hadn't even noticed him yet, which was terrible, because if she had, he would have looked away by now. Instead he was given ample opportunity to memorize the way her legs looked as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, shuffling her beat up sneakers a bit along the patio.
"Oh," Jessica whispered, squeezing his bicep gently when he stopped responding to her. "Yeah, that'll do it." Her tone sounded slightly sympathetic, and it made Bob so self conscious. "Let's go say hi."
He shook his head jerkily and muttered, "In a second." Anna was currently laughing, head thrown back in delight, and Bob got the briefest peek at the strip of skin above her shorts and her bellybutton, and his brain actually stopped functioning. When she tipped her head forward again, an overjoyed smile still on her lips, she met his gaze. His brain jump started again as her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and he took a step in her direction before he could reconsider.
"Hey, Bob." She sounded a little breathless as she said his name while Bradley's wife smirked at the two of them. But he and Anna were just friends, and he needed to remember that.
"Anna," he replied softly, slipping his hands into his jeans pockets. His palms were sweaty, and he knew he was blushing. He'd never make it out of here alive. Not when she was looking at him like that. 
She smiled and said, "I came up with a few, slightly more obscure book recommendations for you. I was thinking maybe we could go back to the bookstore and look for some of them that I don't currently own? I might be fun to-"
Bob was already about to agree with whatever she said, because it sounded exactly perfect to him, then he heard someone screeching his name.
"Bob!" There was a brunette flash streaking across the small backyard, and then Natasha Trace was in his arms. She was giggling next to his ear where she kissed his cheek three times in a row, knocking his glasses askew.
"I didn't know you were coming home today," he said in surprise.
"I didn't tell anyone except Bradley. Did I surprise you?" she asked.
"That's an understatement, Nat," he replied, hugging her tighter when she refused to let go. "I missed you."
Her familiar laughter was comforting as she said, "You have no idea how much I hate flying with anyone other than you." When she finally started to pull away from him, she added, "Now we can pick up where we left off before my deployment."
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Anna couldn't believe how incredible her friend's house was. It was huge and beautiful, and she had a yard. A yard! In California! There was colorful art on the walls, which appeared to be a collection of things that she and Bradley enjoyed. Her office was something Anna could only dream about, and the kitchen was bigger than her whole apartment.
After a tour of the interior, she stood on the patio in the autumn sunlight in a pair of shorts, something she would have never been able to do in New Jersey. Every day seemed to get better than the last, assuming she could keep the intrusive thoughts about Kevin away. And also assuming she could figure out what she was supposed to do about Bob and the growing collection of feelings she seemed to have for him.
"You have to hear what happened in my Differential Equations lecture on Friday afternoon," her friend was saying as they stood near the new grill that would soon be the centerpiece of the afternoon. "You won't even believe it."
Anna listened for a minute to the wild story, bursting into laughter when she learned how her friend thought she was going to have to call the fire department while she was teaching. Then she saw him. Bob was here with his tidy hair and his adorable glasses and his big hands, and like always her brain filled up with the beautiful poetry she loved so much. Somehow it seemed to go together with him. Those stunning words matched the way he made her feel.
She had to bite her lip in an attempt to calm herself down. "Hey, Bob," she managed to say as his cheeks flushed pink.
"Anna."
Oh, she was a mess. She thought about him way too frequently, even taking the time to compile the titles of some books she had read and loved, convincing herself he might like some of them too. "I came up with a few, slightly more obscure book recommendations for you. I was thinking maybe we could go back to the bookstore and look for some of them that I don't currently own? I might be fun to-"
But she stopped mid sentence when she heard some excited chatter behind Bob, and then a woman came running out through the back door. A beautiful woman. Calling his name. Jumping into his arms. Anna was treated to the sight of the woman's lips brushing against Bob's cheek while he held onto her like he was just reunited with the only person he ever cared about. She had to watch as this other woman ran her fingers gently along his skin in exactly the way Anna fantasized about. And when she looked around, nobody seemed concerned by this turn of events, rather they all acted like it was perfectly normal that Bob and this woman were whispering intimately to each other.
Then Anna heard her say, "Now we can pick up where we left off before my deployment."
Oh. Well. There was a sour taste in her mouth as she took a step backwards as the rest of the group greeted this mystery woman. Anna was going to have to have words with Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics after this. Maybe they tried to set her up with Bob, because they didn't like this other woman? That idea vaporized as soon as she saw Jessica embrace her with a bright smile on her face.
Anna felt like her chest was growing tighter by the second, and then Jessica started to pull the pretty brunette toward her. "You have to come meet the newest faculty member from the English department! Dr. Anna Webber."
The woman looked her up and down with dark, appraising eyes and a little smirk set firmly on her lips. Then she stuck out her right hand and said, "I'm Natasha Trace."
The last thing Anna wanted to do right now was shake hands, but Jessica was looking at her with concern, probably wondering why she was just standing there. "It's a pleasure," Anna said with as much conviction as she could muster, shaking hands as briefly as she could.
"You teach at San Diego State too?" Natasha asked as her smirk bloomed into a bigger smile. When Anna nodded, she laughed and added, "What the hell do they put in the water at that school?"
Jessica was beaming now as she said, "Anna gives book recommendations to Bob all the time."
"Really? Is that so?" Natasha asked, still eyeing Anna like a predator would their prey, when Bob appeared with two cans of ginger ale. He gave one to Natasha and then tried to hand the other one to Anna as Natasha said, "I actually read a phenomenal book last month, Bob. I'll write down the title for you."
He kind of smiled, still holding out the other can toward Anna who felt like she was on the verge of screaming. "No. Thank you," she told him, taking a few steps away as she clocked the hurt expression on his face. "I don't want any."
The uncomfortable feeling was overtaking Anna's whole body now when Natasha leaned a little closer to Bob and softly muttered, "Let me guess... you have a little crush? This happened in my absence?"
Anna turned and went inside, searching for the bathroom she'd seen on the house tour. That woman was mocking her. Anna didn't want to hear any more of that conversation, because it was making her skin crawl. And worse still, she was finally able to identify this feeling as she closed and locked the door and leaned on the sink vanity.
Jealousy. 
She was more jealous of this petite brunette who seemed to think Bob's personal space was hers for the taking than she ever was about Kevin and Alyssa. She was beside herself at the idea of another woman giving Bob book recommendations and making fun of his stupid little crush on her.
This was exactly why she should have never let herself have feelings. When she looked in the mirror, she saw tears in her eyes. "Shit," she whispered. She didn't have a car, so she couldn't just discreetly leave. Plus she'd been looking forward to eating something other than one of her sad sandwiches for days.
The jealousy gave way to anger as she wiped her eyes with a tissue and dropped it in the trash can. Her new friends invited her here, and she was going to stay. She wasn't going to let her feelings for Bob Floyd dictate her mood or what she felt she was allowed to do. She wasn't going to let another man run her life like that ever again.
With her head held high, she walked back outside, making it a point to avoid Bob and Natasha at all costs. She willingly had a thirty minute conversation with Jake and Mickey about the Marvel Cinematic Universe as an excuse to keep her distance. Then she and Bradley discussed the extensive musical catalogue of the Grateful Dead while she slowly sipped a beer to try to take the edge off. Then he turned on the grill, and the smell of food cooking had her excited enough that it was becoming easier and easier to ignore Bob.
When she accidentally looked his way, he was already eyeing her with a confused expression. She could pretend all day long that she didn't care what he thought and that she wasn't jealous at all. She could be so stubborn about this. At least all they had between them was that one awkward, fumbled kiss in his truck. It wasn't like she'd slept with him before he ditched her for the much better looking Natasha.
She was still doing a fine job of ignoring both of them when Bradley announced that dinner was ready. Anna took a plate of food and scooted all the way to the end of the rectangular patio table, snagging the spot across from Jessica. She was willing to talk about anything right now, even her friend's physics curriculum that she could barely comprehend, but then Bob was right next to her.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked cautiously, setting his plate next to hers. Anna just shrugged, and then she was enveloped in his clean scent as he eased himself down in the seat with his knee hitting her thigh. She quickly crossed her legs before scooting her chair a few inches to the side away from his. "Are you okay?"
Anna almost laughed as Natasha found a spot on the other side of the table. "I'm just fine," she said before taking a huge bite of her burger and avoiding looking at either of them.
"Right," Bob whispered, frowning down toward his plate as she gave him side eye. "I just... feel like I did something to upset you."
Anna shook her head, and when she was done chewing the delicious food, she said, "Not at all. You're free to make the decisions you want to make. And I'm free to keep my books to myself since you've got other ones now."
Bob looked at her and asked, "What's that supposed to mean?" 
But Anna was well on her way to starting a conversation with Jessica that could probably last for hours. She ignored him as she asked, "Hey, Jess, what's up with that physics professor who just started wearing a toupee?"
"Dr. Leeland!" she screeched before launching into an animated conversation on the topic of her colleague's hair piece just as expected.
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Bob was so confused. He had been about to jump at the chance to hang out at the bookstore in North Park with Anna when Natasha arrived. At that point, he honestly thought this was going to be the best day he'd had in a while. Anna seemed happy to see him, and one of his best friends was finally home from deployment. But as soon as that thought entered his mind, Anna started acting like she wanted nothing to do with him. So much so that she asked Jess about some guy's fake hair? Bob sat there and listened to the conversation while he ate, trying to interject, but Anna just wasn't having it. She had even rejected his ginger ale.
What the hell did he do wrong? All he wanted to do was talk to her about books and look at her freckles. She was sitting right next to him, but he may as well have been on Jupiter with the way she seemed convinced that he wasn't even there at all.
As everyone started to finish eating, Bob washed his food down with the rest of his ginger ale. Maybe he should just head home early. He'd be spending all week at work with Nat, so it wasn't like he was going to miss out on much there. And being around Anna when she wasn't even looking at him made him feel like an idiot for secretly writing poems about her. He sat at the table alone for an extra minute with his head cradled in his hands, then he took his trash inside the house.
Of course Anna was the only other person in the kitchen, helpfully washing the grilling utensils and other things Bradley left in the sink. She glanced his way briefly before continuing with her task, and Bob headed for the trash can. He had the perfect view of the freckles on the backs of her thighs, but he didn't feel like he should be looking now. He stood quietly for a few seconds before deciding that he'd give this one last try before heading out.
"Anna," he said just loud enough that he knew she could hear him over the running water. "Can we talk? I just feel like I did something to upset you? When you started to invite me to the bookstore, I was going to say yes. Obviously I'd love to go with-"
She looked at him over her shoulder, and he went silent at her glare. "Why don't you just go with Natasha instead?"
His brow furrowed in confusion. "That's not the kind of thing she and I usually do together."
"Oh?" she asked, her voice dripping with something that made Bob's skin tingle with goosebumps. "Does she usually recommend books while you're out to dinner? Or do you take her to see her favorite movies?" 
She turned off the water and faced him without bothering to dry her hands. His lips parted as he watched the furious looking blush that crept along her chest, up her neck, and to her cheeks. 
"I don't really do those things with her either," he said slowly, trying to puzzle his way through this. She sounded almost jealous of Nat, but that couldn't be. That didn't make any sense at all. Anna made it clear she didn't want to be with him.
"Well, you're free to do whatever you want, Bob," she said with a shrug, chin held high. "This is why we're just friends. You've already got plenty of women to choose from, like Suzanne and Natasha, and I'm not about to get caught up in another attractive man who seems too good to be true."
She started to duck past him, but Bob blocked her path. "Whoa, whoa! No, you've got it all wrong." She doubled back the other way, but he stepped to the side until she bumped into him. "Suzanne is my elderly neighbor. And Natasha and I are friends," he said quickly, and he was rewarded with Anna's brown eyes snapping up to meet his. "I've known her for years. She's the pilot I usually fly with."
Anna took one stumbling step backwards toward the sink. Her teeth sank into her lip like earlier before she whispered, "Oh." She swallowed hard, drawing Bob's gaze back to the freckles on her neck as her blush grew deeper. "So you're not... into her?"
His voice sounded deep even to his own ears as he promised, "Not even slightly. Not like I'm into you."
The kitchen went so silent that Bob could hear laughter filtering from the patio through the open door, and Anna's expression softened as she took a tiny step forward. Then another one. Then one more before she was launching herself into his arms. Bob could feel her damp hands in his hair as their lips met, and it was nothing like the way they kissed in his truck. She wasn't tentative, and he didn't pull away as she kissed him harder. This time her body was pressed to his, and she moaned softly when he let his hands settle on her hips.
Anna coaxed him impossibly closer with her fingers in his hair and on the back of his neck, and soon he had her pinned against the edge of the counter. He could feel denim rubbing against denim as she parted her lips and wiggled slowly against him. When Bob swiped his tongue along her bottom lip, Anna let him taste her before her lips drifted along to his neck.
"Fuck," he grunted, squeezing her hips in his hands as his index finger met the soft skin of her lower back. She was sucking gently on the spot just to the left of his Adam's apple, and there was no way she couldn't feel how hard he was getting for her right now.
Those burgundy fingernails were scraping gently along his scalp as he rolled his hips one time against her body. When Anna licked his neck, he forced himself to ask the question that was fluttering around the peripheral of his aroused brain. "Are you going to tell me this is another mistake? Like that night in my truck?"
Anna pulled her lips away from his pulse point long enough to whisper, "It wasn't even a mistake last time. I just couldn't help myself."
Then Bob kissed her lips until she was clinging to him with her back arched against the counter and her hips held tightly in his hands. When he could tell someone was coming inside, he pulled himself away, panting as she tried to chase him for more. He could see the questioning look on her face as he stepped aside just before Mickey and Jake walked inside, arguing about who ate the last hot dog.
Anna turned back toward the sink as she blushed, and Bob was aching to kiss her again. Dying to confirm that she wasn't going to write him off again. He cleared his throat and asked, "Will you let me drive you home later?"
Bob heard her soft laugh and whispered, "Yes." Then with a smile, he took the last can of ginger ale from the refrigerator and set it on the counter next to her. She looked up at him, eyes filled with need as he excused himself back out to the patio where he started to count down the minutes until he could suggest it was late enough to leave.
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Anna, you are living the dream, baby! Let him love you the way he wants to! And once again, in Natasha we trust. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 8
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395 notes · View notes
mellowwillowy · 6 months
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𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 x GN Reader
⤷ warnings — everyone is depressed :), masterpost
—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who hates his work so much and despises the fact that he has to stay involved unless he wants his hard work in protecting you crushed down.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who is a ruthless man nonetheless, stepping on anyone's fingers who tries to graze you with his boots, watching them wailing and trying to wriggle out of it.
"Such bug must really be squashed dead huh?"
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who will sometimes take the belongings of his dead enemies for you to collect. Whatever it is that manages to catch his and your interest is as good as yours now.
"You know, how about we make a deal? Give me this thing and I'll let you die in a more peaceful and easy way."
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who hates the idea of seeing even a soul sneering at you. Anyone who makes the slightest bit of rude remarks toward you will be faced with his fist immediately, no matter where they are.
"Say. That. Again. And. I. Will. Make. Sure. You. Can't. Talk. Anymore."
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who is not a talkative man but will always tell you about his day as he strokes your hair, watching you sleep peacefully. He doesn't like telling people about himself but all that is thrown out of the window when it comes to you.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who is indeed a loyal man, never indulging himself in the parties where women and men are involved with each other.
"Never seen ya' with anyone wrapped around your arm. Come get a taste of it!"
"If I were you, I'd immediately run along before I make you taste my gun's bullet."
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who is tired of living, had it not been for you, he would have long chosen to kill himself and after you into oblivion. But that would simply mean he is wasting away all the troubles he had gone through just for his current standing.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who can never rest in peace because of you and the organization he's leading. He shouldn't have taken this position, and shouldn't have shot the previous ringleader down after the revolution he led. But he needs power and being that man's right-hand man wasn't enough.
"ELEANOR! IS THIS HOW A DOG SUPPOSED TO REPAY HIS MASTER'S KINDNESS?!"
"... Hey, unfortunately enough... I have never even once considered you to be my 'Master'. I'll let you go with your pride still intact, see you again."
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who likes to tend the garden in place for your bedridden state. You love flowers and it truly would be a shame if the flowers have to wilt because no one takes care of it. Well... never mind that he'll just ask the gardener to tend it again later when he's absent.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who watches how the house that was once white slowly darkens into pitch black, just like how he is dragged deeper into the underground world. Reality and Fantasy, these are truly a shackle of curse to him.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who likes to sit in front of the grandfather's clock, sipping his share of tea while flipping through the album photo of you two. All was great until you decided to commit something foolish that dragged him into the underworld.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who likes to stroke your hair absentmindedly, watching you sleep while your chest heaves up and down. Always sleeping and never awake. He enjoys humming the lullaby that you have always been fond of, hoping that it'll somehow reach your ears.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who likes to play the Russian roulette with himself, will the dice finally choose to take him? Nonetheless, the dice is kind enough to make him survive for another day to take care of you.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who can not sleep in peace as he cradles your limp body, worries endowed in him as the thought of his enemies slipping into his manor and taking you away from him. They know a better way to kill him after all, and that is by taking you hostage rather than torturing him to death.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who will always make sure that you are breathing, his ear placed on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. The idea of your life slipping away from your comatose body terrifies him.
"... Good night." Eleanor places a kiss on your forehead before hugging your body, the two of you hiding beneath the cover of a blanket.
Ongoing Poll
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blingblong55 · 8 months
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Valentine- Simon 'Ghost' Riley
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(photo belongs to: @ave661 )
Based on a request:
For fluffy ghost - he's a big intimidating looking dude but animals LOVE HIM. Dogs, cats, rodents, everything. I love the idea of him being trapped on a couch bc too many sleepy animals are on him. Kittens like to climb him. Rodents want to snuggle in his hood or his pocket. Dogs are obsessed and follow him and want to give him kissies. Hed be really good at finding lost pets cause they just come running up to him out of nowhere. (That or like imagine having a cat that's super friendly and telling him your cat doesn't like people so when the kitty cuddles up with him he will feel special).
GN!Reader, Fluff, Friends to lovers
I've rejected affection For years and years Now I have it and damn it It's kind of weird
He isn't much of a people person or more that everyone finds him to be intimidating. But lately, as you have become closer to him, he found himself, wandering the halls of the base, looking for you. And occasionally, there'll be some furry friend with him. There have been times when you call him snow white for that reason alone. Sitting under a willow tree? A bird, deer, cat, and/or dog goes to him and cuddles on his lap or shoulder. You find this so beautiful, it gives you some new perspective on him.
Sometimes during field training, he will get the occasional guard dog to stand by him and rub their body on his leg, begging for a head rub. This has become so frequent, that he has gotten used to it. One time, while in an active war zone, he got tackled by a very friendly dog. Soap was about to shoot it when Ghost laughed a little. "Don't you worry, sergeant, we got a friend, now." You and Soap look at each other, giving the other the 'Again' look. One time, purely because you were all waiting for the helicopter to pick you up, he began to attract all sorts of friendly animals. So much so, that one of the animals became the birthday gift to Price's little girl.
I've lost all control of my heartbeat now
Another time, Gaz begged his lieutenant, to fetch a kitten for his girlfriend and as always, it worked. As you two grow closer and closer, he visits your home frequently. You two usually stay in your back garden, sitting by the grass and then soon the birds begin to chirp by the branches, this is only when he is there, no other time. "You know, this is nice, having this time with you." he softly confesses. His balaclava on your sofa's arm while you two enjoy the warm sun by the grass. Before you could even answer, your two pups and the grumpy cat who hates everyone approach him and purrs. "Bloody hell, Simon. You've done it again!" You laugh and he stares at you.
"This is a real problem I struggle with, R/N." He tried to pretend he was angry.
As time went on, and your pups grew, he began to be stuck somewhere during the winter visits. Your cosy sofa. Your dog lying on his chest and thighs, the grumpy cat that adores only him by his shoulder and the newest puppy he got you, tucked by his hood. It's a site to see, for sure and it's the best one you can get as his new partner. You always thought it was that his body radiated warmth but you soon found yourself to be going to him like a magnet. It's an inexplicable force that pulls you to him. It's safety, comfort, familiarity and understanding that he radiates to those vulnerable, delicate and small creatures.
The way he is, a giant, grumpy man, with three hobbies, smart, strong, rough but the way he protects everything that is at arms reach. That is what makes him so unique and special. You never viewed him this way when you first met. Never thought he was into puzzles, history and reading. His mind is so great and if he wanted to, he could be a successful professor elsewhere. Maybe it's the years of his own struggles and how he understands those who might be close to another breakdown that brings a certain level of comfort. Perhaps its how he caresses the creatures that crawl to him, that yearn for the love he gives. And maybe now it's you that is added to that list.
I still feel a shock through every bone When I hear an, "I love you" 'Cause now I've got someone to lose
Six years ago, you found him. He petted two stray cats and a squirrel on his shoulder, the one he kept feeding before winter. And now, in a dim kitchen light, listening to jazz, swaying in his arms, that is home to you and those sweet things. "My R/N, you have to sway like this." His hand was on your hip, the other holding your hand as he guided you. That skull balaclava hidden in the drawer of your now shared home. No longer the grey flat he lived in as a soldier but now, in a small, cosy and beautiful home as your husband.
Even to this say, when you go to the park to walk your pets, he has some new furry friends that come to him. And he gives you that look, 'Again' as you, with a big proud smile take a bag of treaties from the bag you carry for this occasion. He and you sit in a bench, just like the old couple that frequently sits across from you both. It's like staring in a mirror, he tells you every time. The man across from him feeds the birds, while he feeds the dogs or cats near him.
I blinked and suddenly I had a Valentine
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hindahoney · 1 year
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If you want to code-switch so often that you are nearly incomprehensible to goyim, here is a list of my favorite and most-used Jewish terms:
Schvitzing - Sweating. (Ex: "I'm schvitzing so much it's showing through my clothes.")
Schlep - A tedious and long journey, depending on usage it can mean that you were carrying something. (Ex: "I had to schlep all the way across campus, my backpack was so heavy." Usually denotes a long walk, but other forms of transportation are acceptable too. "You drove all the way to New York from Florida? That's quite the shlep.")
Shtati - Something really cool. (Ex: "I visited my friend's place and they had a shtati mezuzah!")
Neshama - Soul. (Ex: "Mazel tov on your conversion, you have such a strong Jewish neshama!")
Balagan - A big mess, chaotic, confusing (Ex: "Moshe forgot to bring challah for shabbat dinner, and it turned into this big balagan")
Achi/Achoti - "Achi" literally means "my brother," but can also be used like bro or dude, "achoti" is the feminine equivalent meaning "sister"
Yalla - Come on, let's go (Ex: "Yalla yalla, you're going to make us late again")
Mishpacha - Family. Doesn't have to be literal blood relatives, usually a sign of warmth or friendship. (Ex: "I care about every Jew, they're all my mishpacha.")
Pshhh - Interjection sound, to express respect or agreement with what someone is saying, but can also be playfully poking fun at someone taking themselves too seriously, can be used sarcastically.
Achla - amazing, awesome, great, the best (Ex: "You graduated from university? Achla!")
Sheina Punem (Shayna Punim) - Pretty face (Ex: My bubbe kept pinching my cheeks and calling me a sheina punem) Can be used ironically, in which case it means "a disgrace."
Ahavat Yisrael - to love your fellow Jew (Ex: "I firmly believe in ahavat yisrael, even if it's hard sometimes.")
Schande - Shame, dishonor among the nations, meaning a Jew who represents Jews badly, a serious insult. (Ex: "He's a schande, he feeds into antisemitic stereotypes.")
Schmutz - Dirt, stain. (Ex: "Use your napkin, you've got schmutz on your face.")
Amalek - Any enemy of the Jewish people. ("[Fill in blank] is the modern Amalek, they hate the Jews.")
Lanceman/Landsmen - Two jews from the same place, a point of connection between two Jews who now live far away from their hometown. (Ex: "Your grandma is from Crown Heights? Mine too, our grandparents are landsmen!")
Goyisch - Something not Jewish (Ex: "I don't listen to Taylor Swift, her music is too goyisch for me.")
Goyischekop/Goyische-kop - Goyisch head, a jew who thinks/sounds like a non-jew. (Ex: "How could you say about your fellow Jew? Do you have a goyische-kop or something?")
Kindaleh/Kinderlach - Little children (Ex: "I passed by the school and saw the kindaleh on the playground, they're so cute!")
Chamud/Chamuda/Chamudi - Sweetie, cutie, usually aimed at children, but can be a term of endearment between a couple. Can be condescending when said rudely to another adult, like "Sweetheart" can be in English. (ex: "Goodnight, Chamudi. I can't wait to see you tomorrow.")
Daven - to pray ("Are you going to join us for davening?")
Frum - A religiously observant Jew. ("He's frum, he davens three times a day.")
Treif - Unkosher, generally something not good, doesn't have to literally refer to a food. ("I trained my dog to stop barking when I say 'treif!'.")
Bubkis - Zero, nothing, nada ("Moshe got a gift from bubbe and I got bubkis.")
Kvetch - To complain ("I'm just kvetching, I'm not that upset about it.")
Kvell - Extreme pride. ("I heard your daughter made it into her top school, you must be kvelling!")
Mensch - A good, admirable person. ("He volunteers every week, he's a mensch.")
Chillul HaShem - Disgracing God's name, someone who does something that makes Jews look bad.
Kiddush HaShem - Something that sanctifies God's name, brings honor to God. ("I love seeing you wear a kippah, it's a kiddush HaShem!")
Bubbe meise - Little white lies ("He told his teacher a bubbe meise about his dog eating his homework.")
I should acknowledge that these are mostly Yiddish words, as my experience is primarily with Ashkenazi Jews. If you would like to add common slang from your community (like Ladino phrases, Judeo-Arabic, Italki, etc) I would love to learn about them!
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trashmouth-richie · 1 year
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eddie x fem!reader. [vol i] [vol ii]
summary: Eddie’s shenanigans continue, a heavy conversation leads to revealing factors of how Eddie and reader know eachother.
tw: no minors, mentions of drug use/ abuse, death etc. heavy heavy flirting (eddie) eventual smut
wc: 6.4k
a/n: we made it! Another week another volume to our disgusting eddie series. I’m still blown away by the likes, reblogs, and comments this series is receiving— thank you all so much I appreciate it.
s/o: @pinkrelish @sweetsweetjellybean @jo-harrington + @agentmarvel for helping me bring this fic to life! whether that’s beta reading, me bouncing ideas from to you or just talking me through the pacing- I love you all, this fic would be dog shit without you 🤍♥️💋
/
/
You wake to the buzzing of your alarm, your hand reaching through the dark across your night stand, slamming down hard on the smooth cold snooze button, but it doesn’t stop.
You hit it again.
Nothing.
The beeps get louder. Your eyelids open a sliver to reveal the numbers 3:42 in red on your alarm clock.
Your alarm usually doesn’t go off until 6, and it’s Sunday so it was never set.
Fuck.
You fly out of bed, disregarding the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra, and open the door. A light haze of smoke fills the hallway, white and dreamy, almost pretty like smoke on the water after it rains.
The smoke detector in the kitchen is alarming, letting you know that the potential of a fire is a great possibility with its ominous beeping. You spring into action, throwing open the kitchen window above the sink.
Where is it coming from?
At first you think it’s from the oven, maybe Eddie left a frozen pizza in too long. The older oven was fussy anyway, burning things one day and the next taking forever to heat up to 375° to make a batch of cookies. But the oven was cold, the smoke seemed to be coming from the living room, a quick glance shows you exactly what was going on.
The couch was on fire.
-
The hum of the vacuum and the clinking swirl of jagged edges of chips and popcorn kernels sucking up through the cylinders into the bag invade the small living room. It took Eddie almost an hour to find where you kept the cleaning supplies. Turns out the smaller door across from the basement was a closet, housed with everything you’d need to clean a home.
Each item was stacked neatly, brooms and a floppy white mop hung on hooks, the vacuum tucked into the corner. The top shelf had bleach, and a green can labeled ‘comet’ that looked like it could be mistaken for Parmesan cheese. Judging by the bottle with blue liquid and a window on it, called Windex, Eddie figured that probably wasn’t for spills on counters. He settled for a bottle of 409 and a roll of paper towels. Grabbing the vacuum with him.
After vacuuming the living room and wiping up the spills in the kitchen, he sits down. A lit joint between his lips, contemplating on what the actual fuck happened tonight. He couldn’t believe your bitchy attitude or the way your lip trembled after he called you out.
You weren’t the girl he used to know. You had changed, grown into a bitter woman, hating everyone and everything.
He falls into a dreamless sleep. Waking later to stumble into the bathroom to take a poorly aimed piss in the dark and falling face first into his mattress.
-
You grab the first thing you can think of to extinguish the flames ablaze on the couch. Where the hell is Eddie? What the fuck happened!? Filling a popcorn bowl with water that doubled as a puke bucket when you were sick with the flu back in March, you run back to the couch throwing the water on the flames. For good measure you refill the bucket and douse the couch again— putting the flames out, leaving a soaked charred couch that once was a staple in the Wheeler basement for the better half of a decade.
To say you are enraged would be the understatement of the year, possibly the century. You didn’t have much to your name— not anymore, he had made sure of that. But this!? You open all the windows, letting the dewy air of an early summer morning seep through the house, a slight breeze moving the thin curtains.
You weren’t a great physics student but you are almost certain that a couch wouldn’t suddenly combust into flames no matter how old it is. A red plastic lighter on the coffee table confirmed your suspicions.
You don’t waste time trying to wake him up by yelling, you fill the bowl of water immediately and charge into his room. It was as if you put the fire out but the flames were still burning inside of you, you were fucking irate with Eddie. Hate bubbling inside of you as you stomped into his room, water sloshing all over the carpet and onto your socked feet.
He’s laying on his stomach, a loud snore rippling through his body, the last bit of calm before the ice cold water hits his bare back. Soaking his bed in return.
A loud screeching gasp leaves his dry mouth, cottonmouth having his tongue feel like sandpaper on a sidewalk.
He turns over to face you, annoyed and confused at what the hell was going on.
“Y’know,” he says, standing abruptly from his mattress and shivering when the fan oscillates onto his freezing back, “there are more humane ways to wake someone,” he takes a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the smoke and the burnt fibers of the couch, “smells like you burnt breakfast so how may I help you at this ungodly hour?”
“You son of a bitch,” you seethe, “I swear to everything holy and your satan worshiping ass that I’m going to kill you!”
Eddie doesn’t bat an eye, “ooh baby, are we role playing right now? Shit I’m not prepared, gimme a minute.” He stuffs his hand into the front of his boxers making a jerking motion.
“Jesus Christ! I didn’t come in here to fuck you! Have you seen the living room?!”
“So hostile in the morning—“ he says rubbing his eyes, letting a yawn escape his slack mouth, “why what the fuck are you accusing me of now? I cleaned up my mess so if we’re not fuckin’ I’m going back to b— “ you drag him by the arm to the living room. Unable to speak. Unable to breathe properly through the lingering smoke.
His eyes land on the charred mass of the couch. Panic settled on his face for a brief moment before he discarded it for humor. “Damn Tooty, if you wanted a new couch you could have just asked,” he says, letting out a yawn, and stretching his arms out.
He cringes at the way his full name falls from your lips. The spinning rage of fury throwing yourself into a hissy fit.
“I can’t fucking believe you! How goddamn high were you to not realize the couch was on fire before you passed out?”
“Oh fucking relax, it was an accident!”
“Accident? Spilling milk on the counter is an accident. Knocking over the shampoo bottles in the shower is an accident. This.” You say seconds away from full on losing your mind, “is arson, destruction of personal property, a credible offen—“
“Credible offense? Didn’t know you joined the police force, officer Tooty..”
“Eddie!”
“… you probably have those swat grade handcuffs, the ones that won’t break when your wrists are bound to my bedpost, shit I’m hard just thinking about it.”
It takes everything in you not to look down, not to see the way he’s swelled up in his boxer briefs. Not to see the stretch of the fabric or the outline of his length.
You let out a frustrated groan, dragging your hands down your face. “God you are so fucking infuriating! You really moved in here and just thought you could do whatever the fuck you wanted because you’re Eddie the freak Munson huh? Twenty-six and still pretending that rules and doing shit in a normal way don’t apply to you.”
You think back to how he was in high school, ranting and raving on the cafeteria tables or giving a presentation about how Dungeons and Dragons was in fact not a cult when the assignment was supposed to be on the Holocaust.
He did whatever the fuck he wanted, when he wanted, and how he wanted to do it. He didn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself. Never did, never would.
“I fucking hate you,” you spit, “you’re a filthy bastard and I hope you rot in hell.”
He’s heard it all before, so it’s not a surprise when your words turn sour, trying to break him down. But he won’t stand for it.
“Oh baby,” he tuts, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, “you think you’re the only person to ever hate me?”
He crosses his arms and leans forward, inching towards your face, “if you wanna compete with the big dogs, you better get in line. Heard they sell tickets at the high school for the ‘we hate Eddie Munson fan club’.”
He chuckles at the idea of the whole town hating him, small minded inbred losers, clutching to their cross necklaces whenever he walked past them.
“Probably more fans there than Corroded Coffin has right?” You provoke, eyes raised and a smirk twisting your lips.
“That attitude of yours…” his words are lost when he looks at your lips, he shakes his head and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes scan over your body. Tiny little tank top with one of the straps hanging off your shoulder. Your baby blue pajama pants low on your hips, no panty line suggesting you’re commando under them, “Fuck.” He breathes mostly to himself.
“Listen, I’ll replace the couch, but you seriously need to get a fucking grip and relax, you’re gonna have a brain aneurism if you keep this shit up.”
Only Eddie could turn a disaster of almost starting your house on fire to a joke about you being crazy and him getting horny in return. It had to be a talent to be so aloof from reality. So unphased by shit happening around him. Just placing a bandaid on things hoping they would work out.
But for you, it never came that easy.
-
You decide the only reasonable thing to do was to move the couch to the garage and try to rid the house of the lingering smoke smell. Thankfully the carpet and the coffee table were fine, but the couch was obviously a total loss. Eddie was surprisingly strong, maneuvering the couch almost by himself all the way to the garage, with your help of opening the doors. The way his muscles worked in his back as he lifted the couch and pulled it through the threshold made your stomach flutter. And you were pissed at the thought of it.
“Get some sleep,” Eddie ordered, after you got back into the house, yawning loudly and rubbing your eyes, “we can figure this shit out later.”
Normally you would have argued with him about not telling you what to do but you were exhausted. You climb back into your bed, and fall asleep quick. Dreaming of your entire house on fire and Eddie standing outside, pissing on the flames.
-
“What about this one?” Eddie asks, laying on a large brown sofa, sinking into the cushions like he’s submerged into quicksand.
He woke up around 9 AM, barging into your room, blaring Judas Priest and singing Love Bites at the top of his lungs. Scaring the absolute shit out of you and having you reach for the nailed bat Steve had given you after Nancy had moved out.
“Let’s roll butthole,” Eddie laughed as he sat on your bed, munching on a piece of toast, “ooh, and maybe skip the bra like you did this morning, that was so fucking hot.”
Jesus Christ.
“Get out,” you hiss, covering your chest with your blanket.
Eddie stands up and jumps on your bed pouting, “seriously you’re so boring, let them titties out and come jump with me.”
“I swear you get more immature by the minute. Now get the fuck out before you break my bed.”
“You wish I’d break your bed, oh my god!” He stops jumping immediately, “Tooty! Am I the first guy to be in here?”
You get up immediately, wrapping your throw blanket around you and grabbing Eddie by his foot trying like hell to yank him off your bed.
“Ow, stop you’re hurting me,” he jokes in a mocking, deadpan voice.
You’re slapping him anywhere you can reach him, throwing your pillows at his head, anything to get the perv out from your sheets. He’s laughing rolling around on your bed, moaning your name loudly.
“Eddie Munson I swear, I’ll slash the tires on that shit box van of yours out there if you don’t get out of my room!”
“Oooh, felony charges? Goddamn you’re gonna make daddy cum.”
You grab your clothes from the closet and retreat to the bathroom. Huffing and stomping the whole way, slamming your door so hard the windows in your room rattle.
-
You’ve been looking around the Big Boy’s furniture mart for at least three hours. Eddie insisted on trying every single couch they had. And you weren’t talking about just laying on them or testing their firmness.
“Hey, can you lay down and I’ll get on top so I can see how it feels? I need to make sure I can reach the right angles if ya catch my drift,” he says with a shit eating grin and a wink. “Or better yet, I’ll sit and you get on top, gotta make sure the ladies knees are comfy too ya know?”
You swat at his arms, “you’re such a fucking pig, Munson.”
“With a fat—“ interrupted by the sales clerk asking if everything was okay, you smile awkwardly and sit down next to Eddie, testing the enormous brown couch, “wallet.” He finishes, a smile on his lips as you roll your eyes.
“This one is good, c’mon sit down and try it out.” He purrs, wiggling his eyebrows.
You’re standing beside him clutching your purse, his long legs are bent at the knee and spread out wide. Arms on the back of the couch, claiming his space, spread like a king.
“No,” you complain, “If you like it, get it, I’m tired and I just want to go home.”
“Why? The Virgin Mary got a big date or something?” he says, with a mean laugh.
He’s such an asshole. If you weren’t playing his little games he’d turn into such a fucker.
“Jealous?” you say, invading his space, voice dipped low, tracing circles on his denim knees.
His breath hitches in his chest at your light touch, but you don’t stop there. Sauntering up to the sales counter you work your magic.
With a little flirting and the perfect placement of your arm under your heaving chest while leaning over the counter, chewing on your pen and running it down your neck and into the slit of the one too many unbuttoned buttons on your blouse with the dorky sales manager sporting a receding comb over, you get free same day delivery, even on a Sunday.
Impressed, and shocked Eddie asks, “Now how did you manage that one Tooty?” he asks his head dipped by your ear as you walk towards the door, “thought you were the head nun at Saint No Fun.”
You lick your lips, laying the charm on thick, “Think you’re the only one who can flirt and make someone uncomfortable?” You ask, looking up at him and batting your lashes.
Wrong.
That was the wrong thing to say to him. And you walked right into it.
A smug smile spreads against his lips, accompanied with lowered eyebrows and a deep groan to his voice, intruding on your personal space, “so you admit that I make you uncomfortable?”
Your cheeks heat and you slither away from him, buttoning your shirt higher and mumbling about how disgusting he is while walking fast out of the store and making your way to Eddie’s van, your sandals clicking on the asphalt.
Walking through the door to outside feeling the sun beat down on his curly mess of hair, he can’t help but laugh at you storming away.
“Don’t run from your feelings, sweetheart,” Eddie calls from the parking lot, “I’m a give— oh relax bitch I’m not talking to you!” He yells to a woman ushering her two children inside the store as she glares back at him, frightened when he places the infamous devil horns on his head and flicks his sinful tongue out.
He climbs back into the van, laughing maniacally and blaring Metallica’s Wherever I May Roam. He looks over and sees you shrunken down in the seats, covering your head with your arms trying to make yourself as small as possible. Avoiding being seen with him with all your might.
“At some point in time princess, you’re gonna have to give up this facade that you’re some high and mighty broad.”
“I don’t think that—“ you say sitting up right and forcing the heat from your cheeks, “I just don’t want to be seen with you in public anymore than I have too, plus I really think seeing you humping the furniture burned a hole in my brain.”
“It was quite a sight wasn’t it, wait until you experience it first hand— you’ll have to go to church begging for forgiveness.” he finished with a whisper.
You roll your eyes, disgusted with his constant perverted mind spewing sexual comments.
“Do you ever, just— I don’t know, have a normal conversation that isn’t based around your penis and all the things you’d fuck if given the opportunity?”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes, turning down his music, “When did you get so boring? I swore you were never like this when I knew you. Eyeball’s little sister. Thee Tooty. Meanest girl in her grade. Stealing cigarettes from the gas station. Sneaking out at night to catch a ride with the freak to the nearest party, you were cool back then. Now you’ve joined the fucking convent in virgin town capital of Lame-ville, USA.”
You had forgotten about Kev’s nickname, Eyeball. Eddie had made it up after he had gotten a fishing hook through his eyelid back in their sophomore year. Eddie was at your house almost all the time, him and your brother were as thick as thieves, and sometimes they were just that. He always invited you along, telling Kev it was alright. After he had graduated in ‘85 and Eddie stayed behind, Eddie became your outlet, bringing you and his hellfire idiots, your own classmates, to parties because you didn’t have a car. Swearing to Reefer Rick, that you little goons were cool. ‘Specially Tooty’ he’d say, announcing that you were Eyeball’s sister with a toothy grin.
Seems like such a long time ago that you were all just stupid kids, living for the weekend and a shared bottle of strawberry hill Boones Farm on the way to a party, now half of you were in serious relationships, or college. But you were still here in Hawkins, cutting the hair of the rich while you could barely balance your mortgage and utilities.
People like you and Eddie never got out of small towns. Live, breathe, die.
The end.
No happy endings.
“I’m not a nun, you inconsiderate prick,” you yell at him, “I just don’t think fart jokes, or shitting with the door open and belching contests are funny.”
Eddie pulls his eyebrows together annoyance splattered on his face, “yeah, I’m pretty inconsiderate, just dropped hundreds of dollars to get princess Tooty a new couch, how fucking dare I?”
“You’re the one that burned the other one down!” You holler back at him, losing any shred of self-control you have left, “ I wouldn’t have asked you to do that and you’re the one who volunteered to buy it in the first place!”
“Well, you didn’t really give me a choice standing there with those sad fucking eyes acting like I just fucked your sister and shot your parents in the face.” He sneers back, nostrils flared, driving like a bat out of hell through Hawkins.
You’re pouting, crossing your arms and huffing loudly as he continues.
“I swear to God there’s not a single fucking thing that I can do right for you Tooty,” he snaps, knuckles tight against the steering wheel. “It doesn’t matter what it is what I will, or won’t do you just have it in your head that I’m the worst fucking person in the world.”
You sit there stunned, face crumbled into anger as you stew pissed off beyond belief at his bullshit remarks. He pulls into the driveway, stomping on the brakes and having you lurch forward as he throws the van in park.
He turns to face you. A ringed finger pointing in your face as he gets closer.
“Like I said earlier, sweetheart, you want to hate me? Get in fuckin’ line, this whole goddamn town hates me and I don’t give a fat rat’s ass what anybody thinks of me, especially a stuck up brat like you.”
You’re both breathing heavy, the tension between you both thicker than oatmeal. You can feel his breath on your face, your cheeks are heated and his are tinged pink. His eyes dip down to your lips for a split second before he shakes his head. He jumps out slamming the door hard with a loud thud, stomping his way through the garage.
-
You mull over your emotions, here you were again, but this time you got the best of him.
Eddie: 1
Tooty: 1
In all the years of knowing Eddie, you’ve never seen him that pissed off. Sure he got worked up about stupid society norms in school but this was different. He was pissed, yelling in your face in the van.
You were never afraid of him, the whole town might be but you had no reason to be. Not from a guy with split ends and in serious need of a deep conditioner. He was just as stubborn as you were. Refusing to bend.
-
The couch was delivered in record time, your tits really putting the delivery boys to the test when they said you were their only delivery for the day, marked mandatory.
When Eddie arrived from the doorway of his bedroom, arms above his head hanging onto the frame, a cigarette hung between his lips, he was still mad but truly astonished at their arrival only twenty minutes after you had gotten home.
He flops on the couch as soon as they leave, the delivery idiots still drooling over you working up the courage to ask for your number until Eddie made a sadistic comment about getting the cat out of the freezer for the ritual sacrifice had them running back out to the truck, whispering Hail Mary’s and making the sign of the cross as they ran.
“Fuck,” he exhales, kicking off his boots and putting his stinky socks on one arm, his head on the other unzipping his jeans, and slotting a ringed hand down the front of them, Al Bundy style, “can’t wait to break this thing in, need’ta christen the whole house yet too.”
Oh for fucks sake.
“Were you this nasty while you lived with your uncle?”
He closes his eyes as he answers you, snuggling his head and hips into the cushions, a leg thrown up on the back. “He works nights, but my neighbors knew that when the trailer was rockin’, don’t come knockin’.”
You scoff, “I just have a hard time believing that anyone would willingly want to fuck you.”
“Well believe it baby, they don’t just call me ‘the freak’ because I’m into metal and have long hair,” he says, opening his eyes for your reaction as he grabs his dick through his jeans at the base and wiggles the length around.
Your stomach burns as you walk away, half disgusted at him for being so crude, and more disgusted with yourself for looking.
-
The only way you can combat the lingering heat of turmoil in your stomach is by keeping your hands and your mind busy. You change your clothes into some cotton pajama shorts, the old ratty Garfield slippers you’ve had since the 8th grade, and a baggy shirt with the Marlboro logo on the breast pocket and printed fully on the back. You start with baking a loaf of banana bread, the same recipe Karen Wheeler passed down to Nancy, and Nancy passed down to you.
You begin to whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. A sense of calm takes over your body as you remember the days of having Nancy as a roommate. A vast difference to the hellion who’s snoring on the couch right now. Your mind wanders, questioning why the tension between the two of you in the van could have been cut with a knife.
You despised him, the thought of him making your stomach churn like curdled milk. He was skating on thin ice and if you were stronger, you’d have kicked his ass out by now. But Eddie was right about a few things. After Kev left for college it was just you at home, but Eddie stayed around. Watching out for you at parties, threatening to kick anyone’s ass who got too close to you.
You mash the bananas and set them aside, using the handheld mixer you had been gifted to beat together the butter and brown sugar. The light pales of yellow swirling with the chestnut granules of the brown sugar.
You remembered how he was dating Chrissy during his senior year. How Chrissy, yourself, Eddie and Chad would go bowling on Sundays after brunch at the Cunningham’s or how sometimes Chrissy would drive the three of you to go to Eddie’s shows at the hideout, sweet talking her way to the owner so you could all support him. How messed up he had been after she broke up with him. To this day you don't know the reason. You wondered if he knew what happened between you and Chad.
You add the dry ingredients to the wet ones. Adding the eggs one at a time, the soft plump yolks slipping free from the shells and landing gently on the forming mixture.
So many things had gone unsaid. Different aspects of life taking you both in opposite directions but now suddenly back again, but under very diverse circumstances.
The banana bread mixture is scraped into a loaf pan, and tossed into the oven, the timer set to sixty minutes.
You had to admit that having Eddie around gave you a small inkling of comfort. Almost as if you weren’t alone. Something you hadn’t felt in years.
You really must be crazy. Eddie Munson giving you comfort? What kind of dream land were you living in. Clearly the banana bread hasn’t given you any sort of calm, better make muffins next.
-
Later that night you’re lining pasta noodles in a baking dish, layering them with ground beef sautéed with an onion and pasta sauce, and ricotta, mozzarella and Parmesan cheese. The small kitchen smelling delicious, and the counters full of chocolate chip muffins and the banana bread you had made.
Turns out there’s a lot you can get done in the 5 hours Eddie has been passed out on the couch. Turtle waxing the bathroom floors, scrubbing the baseboards in the living room, reorganizing the fridge and wiping everything down.
He’s still sprawled out on the new couch, his long hair wrapped around his face, soft snores whirling through his nose.
Another hour later and supper is done, you’re standing at the stove cutting short horizontal lines through the lasagna opposite of the way the noodles are laid, when Eddie comes up behind you, warm crumbles of muffin between his lips as he whispers, “shit Tooty, did’ya take home-ec? This is delicious.” You jump almost ten feet high, shrieking and cutting a horrible diagonal line through the lasagna.
“.. I failed ya know.”
“High school?” You answer after catching your breath, “Eddie, everyone in the Tri state area knows that.”
“Nah,” he mumbles through another bite, more crumbs falling from his mouth, “well I mean yeah, but home-ec. That’s why I didn’t graduate on time.”
You soon around with an incredulous look on your face, “how the fuck do you fail home-ec not once, but twice?”
He leans his long frame against the counter, hip jutting up against it as he crosses his legs at his ankles, you note that his pants are still undone.
“Well chef,” Eddie starts, licking his fingers clean from the ooey chocolate that melted onto them, “I kept burning everything. I couldn’t even get the eggs to boil right. I burnt the sleeve of Jason Carver’s letterman jacket while trying to make crème brûlée,” He says with a laugh. “That might have been on purpose, after he stiffed me for over 3 oz and two full bags of pre rolls.”
You chuckle, “not a loss there, that douche probably deserved it.”
Jason Carver would remain in Hawkins to run his dad’s business. Last time you had seen him he was at the salon, flirting with you while you trimmed his hair. Still a douche.
“Ah, he was just mad I stole his girlfriend,” he says with a little sigh, referring to Chrissy, “High school, what a blast!”
“All six years?” You ask with a raised eyebrow, your teeth biting down hard into your lower lip to hide your laugh.
Pushing himself off the counter and stealing another muffin he leaves the kitchen with a grin and yells over his shoulder, “piss off.”
-
Eddie’s on his third plate of “flat noodle pasta thing” or to anyone living on the planet for more than three years would call it, lasagna, and your homemade garlic bread chewed up between his teeth.
“Christ,” he exaggerates with a sigh, “I feel like this is my last meal on death row or some shit.” He smacks his lips and licks his fingers like a primate. Moaning with each swipe of his tongue like a porn star with a huge bush in the 70’s.
“Did you just compliment me on something other than my body or insinuating that you want to fuck me?” You say with a false shock, “I’m honored.”
“Yup, write it down in your little diary, ‘Eddie Munson said something genuine to me, made me feel pretty, maybe I will stop being mean and let him see my titties xoxo’.”
“…and we’re back to your regularly scheduled programming.” You announce in a monotone voice, pushing your lasagna around with your fork and taking a bite of the garlic bread.
Eddie turns his head and looks over at you confused on how this nice little night— not arguing, for once, eating the best thing he’s had in his mouth bedsides the pussy that was in it last weekend, could turn into you silently stewing, mulling something over that he had zero idea on how to understand.
“So— what ever happened to Eyeball anyway? Should I go ahead and assume he’s buried in a shallow grave somewhere?” Eddie asks, taking another mouthful of lasagna, “seriously, I haven’t seen or heard from him since he graduated and left this shithole town.”
You take a deep breath and let out a sigh, you couldn’t hide this from him, not when he’s here in your house, on the couch he just bought since he burned down the other one.
If you were going to tell him, there was no better time than right now. You take a sip from your Fresca and set your plate down on the coffee table.
“Kev went to the east coast. Full academic scholarship to John Hopkins.” You say curling your knees up to your chin, facing Eddie.
“Yeah, I think he mentioned that— I bet your parents were proud,” Eddie says, eyebrows raised, fingers hanging loosely over his knees, the last remnants of the garlic bread in one hand.
“Of course they were, he’s the golden boy, Mr. Perfect. He could do no wrong in their eyes.”
You weren’t just being a jaded little sister, it was the truth. Your parents favored him over you. Once it was let on that he was smarter than most kids his age, and a certain level of genius— that was it for you, you were casted aside like a wet paper towel, tossed to the heaping flow of garbage. Their whole life revolved around him.
“So what happened?” Eddie pressed, setting his plate down and twisting the rings around his fingers.
“Well, he went to college in August of ‘85 and at first was excelling in all of his classes, as if he were to ever do anything else. If you ask my parents, what happened next was out of character for him, and he was coerced into it, the wrong place at the wrong time kind of a deal, but you know how he was. He had a wild side to him.”
Kev was wild indeed. He was the one who convinced Eddie to borrow Wayne’s truck at thirteen and take it driving through Hawkins on a joyride to the gas station that led to all of the mailboxes in Forest Hills to be backed over and almost a gas pump. A smirk forms on Eddie’s face as you continue.
“I always thought it was his way of escaping— trying to be normal. Anyway— he made friends with some guys who were kinda like the Hellfire guys at home. Ya know nerds, who need haircuts.” A small laugh escapes from your lips.
“Easy, now.” Eddie jokes, shaking his mane, “This takes time and patience, ain’t built for the weak.”
You roll your eyes and keep going, “one of them was involved with dealing but it wasn’t just joints and half ounces like you did in high school. This was crack, and heroin.”
Rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palms, dreading this more than Eddie could ever know. “He started using—heavily. One thing led to another and he was eventually kicked out of school, turns out you actually have to show up to class and get good grades to keep an academic scholarship.”
“My parents tried to get him to move home, go to rehab, but he refused. He moved into a house with some other “friends” if you would even call them that.” You take another shaky breath, voice wobbly as you continue, “w-we aren’t exactly sure what happened— all we know is that he was driving down a one way, going double over the legal speed limit and he struck a woman— in broad daylight, killing her instantly.”
Pain is evident in your face as Eddie stares into your eyes, leaning forward on the couch, the venom of his words from last night and earlier this afternoon twisting like a knife in his chest. “Holy fuck.”
“He had been tripping out on whatever it was he was snorting, or smoking—I have no idea, for days, according to him, and he doesn’t remember anything. The woman was from a very well off family in Maryland— so they went for murder instead of vehicular manslaughter— and won. There were two other people in the car with him… they were both killed on impact. He’s currently known as inmate #90045, serving a life sentence and a sling of other charges in Roxbury Correctional in Hagerstown.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide at the thought of Kev in an orange jumpsuit, face behind bars. The fingers he was spinning his rings with stops, mouth agape.
You pinch your eyes shut and throw your head back, avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “My parents sold the house the following year and moved out there to be closer to the golden son, still to this day refusing he did anything wrong, blaming it all on anyone but him.”
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes, shocked, “I can’t fuckin— wow.”
“Yeah,” you say, bringing your head forward, dipping into your chest. Sniffling quietly and rubbing your nose.
Eddie is dumbfounded by your admission. He thought for sure that maybe Kev was married and had kids so your parents went to help them out to be supportive grandparents. He would have never guessed that he was in prison doing hard time with a heroin addiction. And he certainly can’t believe that they left you here like discarded mail.
“But you stayed in Hawkins? By yourself, this whole time?” he says in disbelief. Outer corners of his eyes turning downward as his face frowns.
He feels like shit, he had been here the whole time in Hawkins and he didn’t have a clue that you were alone.
Shaking your head you answer slowly, shame on your lips. “The Wheeler’s ended up taking me in.”
“Tooty,” Eddie rubs his hand across his face, stubble catching on calluses as he thinks about the times he saw you at school. “Fuck man, why didn’t you say anything? Jesus, why didn’t any of them mention it?”
“I told them that if they told anyone I’d shave their heads,” you say proudly. A sense of pride present across your face, as you hold your head high.
This explains a lot, why you were bitter and downright miserable. He couldn’t believe this shit, how your family just left you, discarding you like you weren’t their only daughter. You were dealt a shitty hand, and all you had left to protect yourself was you. Eddie knew all too well how that felt.
His eyes are full of concern, wet with tears as he realizes how lonely you must have been.
“By the way,” you say, stretching your leg out and nudging him with the toe of your slipper, “that head shaving thing, goes for you too Munson.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart. ” Eddie said, throwing his hands up in innocence. “I wouldn’t risk losing these curls over that, the ladies love this.”
-
Later that night Eddie laid in bed. Still completely blown away by the fate of his old friend. Not only that but what happened to you as well. When his dad went to prison, he had Wayne but you? You didn’t have anyone. Moving in with the Wheeler’s like you were a charity case, an orphan, with Ted Wheeler being the not bald Daddy Warbucks. He didn’t sleep worth a shit that night. His mind constantly running over the millions of conversations you had up until his graduation— not once did you let on that you weren’t okay.
🤍
🤍
🤍
🤍
🤍
HOPE YOU ENJOYED 💋 SEE YOU IN VOL IV
vol iv
2K notes · View notes
angelbarelywrites · 28 days
Text
♡ slashers scenarios | y’all accidentally adopt a kid (part 2)
♡ fandoms; House of Wax, Hannibal (TV)/Silence of the Lambs, slashers (general)
♡ characters; Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Hannibal Lecter
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡cw; parenthood, kidnapping, mentions of violence. basically don’t tell these guys you want a kid ig
♡notes; another sparse selection but i don’t think Billy Lenz is allowed within 100 yards of a school so it is what it is
also I hate how much I’m starting to love Bo oh my god
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Vincent Sinclair
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> he’s a nurturing man- to his brothers and you
> hell he babies Jonesy too
> even so, he’s shocked when you mention offhandedly that he’d make a good father
> he denies it vehemently
> even as the golden child he grew up in hell
> no way he’d know how to do any of it right
> but you just gently laugh and shake your head, insisting but not pressing it
> it makes him think
> and think and think
> he didn’t know much about kids, but you’d be a great parent
> and you wouldn’t lie to him- maybe he’d be at least an okay father
> families don’t come through often
> and when they do, Lester leaves them be
> if they ever get to Ambrose on their own, the town stays off- none of the Sinclairs want anything to do with harming children
> but mistakes happen, and Bo is freaking out
> a little girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes was sleeping in the back of a car while he took care of her parents, and he didn’t realize until far to late
> she’s maybe 3, and awfully scared and quiet- but when they bring her in the house she walks right up to you and Vincent
> she hugs your leg and finally smiles when Vincent kneels down to show her that Jonesy is a nice dog
> Bo is in shock when you volunteer to adopt her, but Vincent is in quick agreement
> she’s nonverbal, but you look through her family’s things to find out her name - Lilly Henson, or something to that affect .
> Lilly Sinclair has a much better ring to it anyways, doesn’t it?
Bo Sinclair
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> he’s the type that if you mention that you want a kid to this man, he asks what color
> he is endlessly devoted to you
> and while he never wanted a kid before, he’s always so insistent you make him a better man
> so some snot nosed brats would complete the picture perfectly
> he’s not super serious about it, not really
> you have plenty of time to plan for a family
> and he’s the type to want biological children if possible- he’s so used to white picket fence suburbia-type ideals
> when a car pulls up to the gas station, he stops when he sees the infant car seat in the back
> he’s about to tell the parents to move along- but then he sees the second matching one
> something - probably his overinflated self worth - tells him he’d be a much better father to twins that these chucklefucks
> and you want a kid anyways! would two be much better
> they’re not identical- he’s not not disappointed by the fact, but they’re still adorable
> a boy and a girl a bit over a year, with big brown eyes and infectious giggles
> he’s beyond proud when he strides in with them
> “daddy’s home!”
> he thinks you might actually kill him this time
> but then Charlotte - the girl based on what’s embroidered on her blankie, reaches for you and you melt
> you’re still scolding him as you happily take Theodore too
> but he knows you’re beyond thrilled
Hannibal Lecter
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> he’s always wanted a successor
> quite frankly it never had to be his child - or a child at all
> he thought about taking younger serial killers in the making under his wing more than once
> to teach them the art of culinary cannibalism and the finer points of flaying people
> but it’s far too dangerous - especially with you around
> you’re the one thing that trumps his egomania
> so he lets it be for the time being
> but one day, he takes on a special case at work
> a young boy who recently lost his parents very violently
> he’s in kindergarten, and expresses most everything through his rather advanced drawings
> you don’t interact with his patients- even though he works from home you’re pretty skilled at dodging them
> but on the way out that afternoon the little boy- Peter, his name is, runs out before his social worker and smack dab into you
> she apologizes on his half profusely but you’re so sweet with the boy
> you pick up his dropped drawings and comfort him- he’s quite upset he may have hurt or angered you
> he gives you a huge hug and Hannibal can see the fond, parental look on your face
> after that it’s quite simple to draw up the paperwork
> he’s already in foster care, and it only takes a few false documents to make the courts think that Hannibal’s custody is the best place for little Peter
> you learned long ago that it’s best not to question how or why Hannibal does something when he gets like that
> and either way you’re content with your new little family
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dollidot · 2 months
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modern mizu hcs
solely based on my au and my concept of her !! I love my loser babygirl so much
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she's REALLY tall. like 6'1 or something. this is sorta canon but I just would like to reinforce it because she is 80% leg and I love her for it.
her love language would be acts of service but she is VERY big on physical touch, bby is touchstarved af
she's a bassist but she also enjoys singing. she doesn't do it often but boy is she good.
adding to the above I also think she does really good at roars eg that one part from blessed be by spiritbox
REALLY likes the snapcube sonic dubs and quotes them regularly
swordfather has many pictures of 12-16 year old mizu in her emo phase and shows them off to anyone who visits home
she really likes tea but absolutely hates coffee.
she absolutely despises buying from big chain companies because she hates the rich and privileged white men who control society
cooks really well but almost never eats
when she does eat, she EATS. she'll go hungry for three days and then eat an entire fridge worth of food in two hours
she has to take supplements for everything imaginable and whoever's cooking has to sneak them into her meal like dogs with pills in peanut butter
she hates dogs. I feel like the only dogs she'd like would be malamutes, huskies, or german shepherds cause girl me too
really loves fish though. she spends all her time at the closest aquarium and everybody there knows her by name
owns SO many button up shirts. yk those multicoloured ones yeah she wears those, hawaiian shirts too
collects vinyls and cassette tapes and owns a walkman
drives a 1979 baby blue impala given to her by swordfather for her 18th birthday
she did the paintjob herself and is very proud
goes on really elaborate rants about sonic lore
collects sonic merch but especially likes merch of shadow, rouge and blaze because they're her favourites
has eyebrow piercings on both brows and snake bites
to add to the above she takes great care with her eyebrows, she shapes them regularly
she does not, however, have any other routine to do with her appearance. she washes her face and calls it a day
when she was about 16 she watched princess mononoke for the first time and has been an AVID studio ghibli fan since
writes poetry every so often, especially when she has feelings for somebody. her poems either sound like fall out boy lyrics or something written by a philosopher (same thing icl)
smells like expensive cologne and smoke from working with vehicles and shit
curses like a sailor. not a minute goes by where she isn't effing and jeffing all over the place
doesn't smoke except when she's REALLY drunk
absolutely hates parties. taigen being a frat boy she gets dragged to tons, in which she drinks herself into a coma and wakes up on akemi's couch the next day surprisingly not hungover
despite being quiet af she has a reputation on campus for being absolutely amazing at arguing with people who've either pissed her off or heard her yelling at taigen (a common occurrence)
got excluded from high school for a week as a sophomore because she tripped taigen down the stairwell and it ended in 5 kids being hurt not including taigen
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fan-fantasies · 9 months
Text
Worship
A/N: I need more Rhea fics in my life 😩 I’m using fanfiction to cope with my real life feelings so I need as much as possible 😅
Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader
Warnings: cheating (with Rhea), verbal abuse (from shitbag boyfriend), semi-public smut, oral (reader receiving), fingering, swearing, mentions of relationship issues
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“Oh, please please please! I need your help!” You begged. Rhea looked at you with an annoyed expression.
“I don’t understand why you need my help for that,” she sighed.
“Because I need someone else’s opinion on whether I look good or not,” you said.
She wanted to tell you that you always look beautiful and no one else compared to you. She wanted to tell you that your no-good, sleazy boyfriend didn’t deserve you and the effort you put into the relationship. She wanted to tell you to choose her instead— but she just settled for “fine.”
“Thank you!” You yelled, jumping into her arms. She knew she was going to come to regret her decision, but your puppy dog eyes were no match for her.
You drove the two of you to the mall and headed straight to your destination.
You grabbed a few pairs of lingerie while Rhea did her best to look uninterested.
“What about this?” You asked, holding up a pink babydoll. The look on her face said enough. “No then, got it.”
“You so owe me for this,” she whined as you continued to browse.
“I definitely do! Whatever you want, just name it,” you said with a smile.
I just want you, was the first thought that popped into her mind.
“I’ll think about it,” she mumbled. “I think you have enough, now can we go?”
“I haven’t even tried them on yet!”
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
“Try them on? You didn’t say anything about that,” she said nervously.
“Well duh, that’s what I need you for; to tell me if I look good in them,” you said nonchalantly. Rhea felt like she was going to die. “Sit right here and I’ll be back.”
You sat her down in the back where the dressing rooms were and took your finds into the little room.
The first piece you tried on was red and left little to the imagination. You stepped out confidently and held your arms out.
“Well?”
Rhea’s mouth went dry at the sight (something else was definitely wet though).
“It’s lovely,” she nodded, not able to take her eyes off of the floor in front of her.
“You aren’t even looking!” You whined. Rhea forced herself to look up and play cool.
“It’s really great, sweetheart,” she said.
“I think I like it, but I still wanna try on the other ones,” you said as you went back into the room.
The next one was a white one-piece and much simpler than the first one.
“It’s cute,” Rhea chuckled.
“Cute? I’m not going for cute!” You scoffed.
“What are you going for exactly?” She asked.
“Fuck me.”
“What?” Rhea asked in a panic.
“I’m going for ‘fuck me’ vibes,” you said simply.
“Oh, yeah. I knew what you meant,” she said. “I still don’t get why you’re doing all this. He’s lucky to even be with you.”
“I know, it’s just…things have been different lately and we haven’t done…anything in a while. I figure maybe I just need to spice things up,” you admitted.
Rhea couldn’t believe her ears. How could someone have you and not want to worship you every second of the day? Before Rhea could say anything, you continued.
“And I know what you’re probably thinking-“ she doubted it- “he’s probably getting it somewhere else but I really don’t think he’d do that, right? Maybe he’s just gotten a little bored with me so I figured maybe this would help.”
Rhea couldn’t help but feel sad at the pain in your voice. If Rhea didn’t hate your boyfriend before, she certainly did now.
“I can guarantee it doesn’t have anything to do with you. If he doesn’t see how lucky he is then he’s an idiot. You don’t have to try and do something extra just to get his attention. You’re beautiful even when you’re in sweats and no makeup.”
“Thank you,” you said with a shy smile. “I have one more I want to try on and then we can go grab lunch, okay?”
“Sounds good, gorgeous,” she said. You went back in to try on your last piece. It was black lace with purple detailing.
You stepped out and Rhea was convinced she had died and gone to heaven. She stood up and circled you, taking in every inch.
“Now this, this is a winner,” she said, playing with the strap on your shoulder. A shiver went down your spine and you took a shaky breath. The way she was looking at you looked like she could eat you right then and there.
“You think so?” You whispered.
“I know so, but I do think it would look better on the floor,” she said, leaning in closer. “How about we find out?”
You should’ve been embarrassed at how fast you nodded. She pulled you into the changing room and locked the door behind you. She was so furious at your boyfriend for making you feel less than, she was determined to worship you exactly how you deserved.
She began to kiss your neck, her hands groping your ass. She finally pulled you in for a kiss and everything seemed to click. Years of friendship melted into more and it just felt right.
She slipped her tongue into your mouth and easily won dominance over yours. She began pulling at the straps of the lingerie and you let her strip it off of you. You tried to pull her belt off but she stopped you.
“This is about you, gorgeous. There’ll be plenty of time for that later,” she chuckled.
She sat you down on the little bench and knelt in front of you. She kissed up your leg and nipped at you thighs before diving into your center. Her tongue worked wonders on your clit. You were extra sensitive, not having been touched in so long.
“Oh shit, more,” you begged. She slid a finger between your folds before sinking it into you. She added another and began to pump them into you while continue to lap at your clit. You did your best to contain your moans, only a thin door separating you from the store outside.
“You taste divine, sweetheart. I bet he never made you feel this good,” she smirked, stretching you with a third finger.
“Never,” you moaned, rolling your eyes back in pleasure.
As if on cue, your phone began to ring. You wanted to ignore it, but Rhea grabbed it with her free hand and handed it to you.
“Answer it, love,” she said. You looked at her like she was crazy and when you didn’t listen, she pulled her fingers out which made you whine. “Answer.”
She lowered her head back down and began to suck on your clit. You pressed answer and took a breath to compose yourself.
“Hello?”
“Where the hell are you? You were supposed to pick up my dry cleaning and bring it to the office half an hour ago!” Your boyfriend yelled on the other line.
“Shit,” you sighed, Rhea speeding up her actions. “Um, yeah sorry, I forgot.”
“Well get them here asap!”
“I’m busy right now,” you told him.
“I don’t give a shit, bitch,” he snapped. Rhea’s eyes lit up with fury as she pulled away. You began to panic, worried she’d take the phone.
“Go get them yourself, asshole,” you quickly said. Everyone froze.
“What did you just say to me?” He asked, venom in his tone.
“You heard me. We’re done. Now leave me alone, I said I’m busy,” you said before hanging up the phone. You tossed it to the side, not caring where it lands. Rhea looked up at you with a shocked expression.
“I think that deserves a reward,” she chuckled before diving back in. She slid two fingers back into you and thrusted them, circling your clit with her tongue ring. You were getting closer and she could tell. She focused on stimulating your clit, finally pushing you over the edge. You bit onto your fist to keep from screaming out. She slowed down as you came down from your high and finally pulled her fingers from you and licking them clean.
“Guess I had dessert before lunch,” she said with a smirk.
“I guess so,” you laughed, pulling on your clothes. You just finished when she stopped you by grabbing your hands in hers.
“Are you okay?” She asked, sincerity in her voice.
“Never better,” you gave her a genuine smile. “It was long overdue. And I think I might have something better on the horizon anyway.”
“You most definitely do,” she said, kissing you softly.
“I think we have to buy that now,” you said, pointing to the discarded lingerie on the floor.
“As long as I get to take it off of you, we can buy whatever you want,” she chuckled. “Now let’s get out of here, babe.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Hm I like the sound of that,” she smirked. She grabbed your hand and pulled you from the dressing room.
The smile on your face never left for the rest of the day. Rhea ended up accompanying you home and you spent the rest of the day making up for lost time.
——————
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Yandere Alphabet: Ren Hana
I just love that dude, mkay! He has me heart and soul! This is specifically BtD2 Ren, so yeah. Favourite route of that game! This got quite long, it´s around 6k because I thought I would try something else for this, and I´m actually quite happy how it turned out! Hilariously enough I started to write this, around January 2023 and just finished it (April 2024).
I´ll hope you will like it too, because it was already one of my favourite things to reread every once in a while! Have fun!
Ren Hana
He is insane. He hates you. He loves you. He lives only for you. He would kill you in a heartbeat. Full of contradictions he tends to be a rather mercurial character. You are the first one to know that. Did you maybe, just like me, hunt down every last line of dialogue, every last image in his route. He hides away from sight, and only catches you when he is sure, that he will be able to.
„Let´s be perfectly clear, shall we. The fox is not a little orange puppy dog with doe eyes and a waggly tail. It´s a disease-ridden wolf with the morals of a psychopath and the teeth of a great white shark.“ ~ Jeremy Clarkson
For he was truly raised, tortured and formed by a psychopath. By a sadist without any morals. And on you, this little fox will discover his sharp claws and great teeth once more.
„Beware the fox that makes the ravens fly“
Run little one, run. For you will be his prey.
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
When Ren gets it into his head to shower you with affection, it can get quite uncomfortable rather quickly, as he tends to ignore any personal boundaries you ever tried to communicate. He is intense in the way his eyes track you, and in those moments you wonder how you could ever miss the way. that he is a clear predator. And in the next moment he pounces on you with a sweet giggle to simply share his warmth with you. Sometimes when you´re eating, his body is pressed close to yours, with no way left for you, so that you could escape from him. He will hold food up to your mouth, expecting you to take it. His eyes just daring you to refuse him, and with the way his other hand plays with something in his pocket, the threat is clear. Other days he will hand you something, and only give you a small moment to appreciate his gift, before he will pounce on you, nearly bowling you ever, and only his hands behind your head saving you from a concussion, as he demands his reward. Cuddling you on the floor, as he lowly purrs into your ear, his tail wrapping around your waist.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
On some days you will come to the painful realization, that Ren is more animal, than human. Those are definitely the days, he comes back home with blood still splattered all over his face, and the sound of something being dragged in behind him. It´s those days, when he calls for you to come with a playful uncanny trill in his voice, that makes listening to it so unpleasant. It´s those days, when he rips the still bleeding, still warm corpse apart in front of you. Sometimes off-handedly offering you a piece of flesh he just tore out of what had been a living breathing person moments before. On other days you will realize, that while he is clearly brutal, he holds you dear. At least, it´s what you need to believe, when he violently goes for the throat of that guy who tried to touch you when you refused, and then thought you would be more agreeable when he shakes you around. It´s what you whisper in the sudden quiet in your mind, when Ren comes to you. Blood dripping of his fangs and claws, and tenderly holds onto your bruised wrist. He is cooing at you, and the rapidly cooling body behind him, stares at you with unseeing eyes. You try to desperately believe what you tell yourself, as Ren carefully leads you away, humming slightly to calm you back down. It´s what you need to do, because you thought you saw accusations swimming in those dead eyes.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
Ren does crave your love and your companionship more than anything else. So, in order to achieve that, he will try to be kind to you, after all that could help him earn what he wants. Right? He will be kind and accommodating, and his reward will be you. Though, when he realizes, that you still reject him, he won´t hesitate to be cruel to you in return. If you´re throwing everything, that he gave you simply away, well then he doesn´t need to give it to you in the first place. In the end your companionship can simply be achieved through obedience as well, no? When it comes down to it, he will mirror you. Throw back at you what you show him first. If you are kind, he will be as well. If you are cruel, he will be cruel. An almost perfect mirror, that will throw your own attitude back at you, but so much more dangerous than you could ever be.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
Ren will force his need of skinship onto you, if you want to or not. The one time, that you struggled as if trying to free yourself, you stopped out of self-preservation when his grip grew tighter and tighter, making it hard to breathe for you. Sometimes he will come to you, to simply hold your face, gently tracing it´s shape, his claws nothing but a whisper on your skin. These are the things you could tolerate. The ones you can´t are when he shushes you, more growl than calming purr, when he pulls you down the stairs towards the basement. The smell of blood, already coming over you, and you already know what will await you. You don´t kick or scream, only sob quietly, hoping that you will not make him angry. His next shush comes with him, wiping away your tears. But you shiver in fright and disgust, when you see how he licks his hand clean afterwards. Chasing the taste of your tears on his fingers. Though, this is still the lesser evil, than the dead man walking, that will await you down there.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
It would annoy you how much he talks with you, if he wasn´t the only one breaking the silence. And as long as he is chatty, he isn´t brooding either. He will talk about the most inconsequential things, throwing in stuff every once in a while that is so heartfelt, that it becomes jarring to you. You would hate how open he is with you, as if you aren´t a prisoner of his. You would maybe even react, if you didn´t knew, that he is still trying to gauge how much he can trust you with. And every time, he decides to trust you, you have to believe that this is a good thing. For your own sanity. Though you hate one specific time with a burning passion. It´s when he pulls you towards the couch, and pushes you into the pillows he already laid out. When he then stands up, to push a self-titeled disk, the ink already worn away in places, into the player. When he comes back to cuddle you, as you watch with horror living in your ribcage, how a man you never saw, but instinctively put at fault for your situation, ripping into another being with glee. When he whispers softly, about those day, when the body in the cooler, was still a man, and of all the things he did, as Ren watches you. When you wish he would just shut it all of, and he would be the only thing again, that is breaking the silence.
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
The moment you try to use force against him, is also the moment you already lost. There is nothing left of the boy you knew, as the gentle cooing that haunts you in your nightmares, turns into a vicious growl, that is more fitting to belong there. You hit the ground hard, and your vision swims for a moment, till the growling suddenly become muffled. It takes a moment to pull yourself back to consciousness, and for you notice the claws sinking deeper into your shoulders, and the sharp pain, that comes from your neck, which gets so much worse, when Ren pulls back again. Blood dripping from his mouth onto your face, he gnashes his teeth at you. You don´t even scream, still numb from it all, when he pulls you down those dreaded stairs, to a place you never wish to set foot in, and yet visit time and time again. You know he will show how „kind“ he has been the whole time. He will hurt you like in those movies. But the only thing going through your mind, is the image of the pleasure he seemed to feel, when he licked your blood from his lips. Then you remember the heartless corpse downstairs. You scream.
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
Ren bristles when you ask him that. He can feel how his tail bushes up, and curls around you without him consciously willing it to happen. His teeth gnash together, as he squints at you. He only stops the growl that already started up somewhere deep in his chest, when he sees you flinch away from him. He huffs instead at you, and lets himself fall relaxed back onto you. He waits patiently for you to go back to carding your fingers through his hair as you had done, before asking this, quite frankly, offensive and stupid question, before he starts purring again. He doesn´t know who he is trying to calm down at this point. He wonders, if he has forgotten to show you how much he loves and adores you. His sweet, precious thing, that stays with him, that listens to him. You, who keeps that damn ghost, that still haunts him every day away. He wonders if he should tell you, that he wants you to stay with him for forever and ever and ever. Though, that might frighten you. So he simply nuzzles you, as he purrs softly, ignoring how you flinch away from him with practice.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
You were careful. And o how careful you had to be, to not accidentally set him off. But you wanted him so badly to realize, that this was not how a relationship worked. He had mentioned time and time again, and yet you couldn´t quite believe it. And when you asked – gentle, careful, don´t anger him – he had looked at you funny, before grinning. A sly smirk, that reminded you rather suddenly, that you weren´t talking to a human. As if the ears and tails hadn´t clued you in. Though, this didn´t feel like the grin of a fox, more like a hungry wolf, as he contemplated out loud, that he was behaving rather strangely, at least to his kinds standards. After all, he was being patient and accommodating to your own behaviour till now, though, he could change if you wanted to. You shook your head, and instead thanked him. You knew he hadn´t lied.
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
He whispers his vision to you in the death of the night. His quiet voice, soothing were it only makes you so afraid. He paints a picture, that makes him sink deeper into the cushions, makes him feel safe and content, while you can do nothing but watch in horror. If you were just a bit more like him, you would be sure, that your hair would be standing upright with the terror chasing down your spine. Though, what he describes isn´t so far off, what he already has with you. Have you grown this complacent, to simply give in to his every wish? He wants to lay down with you, in the sun spots inside the house, side by side, curled around each other. And your hand just burrows deeper in his hair, careful to only scratch and not pull. His vision, is already your reality.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
He knows that there is nothing for him to get jealous over. Where would you go? Who would you be able to turn to? If you ran, would you ever be able to run far enough? Or would he catch up to you before you knew it? He knows the answer to these questions. And they will never worry him, as much as you seem to worry about them. He knew he won. It´s once more proven to him, when he finds you kneeling by the door. Tears running down your face, spit slowly dabbling from your chin. Now and then a small jerk going through your body. Your eyes look vacant, as he walks past and opens the door for you. His victory only becomes more certain, when you turn away from the light, the breeze, with an anguished cry. What does he need to be jealous of?
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
His behaviour tends to closely mirror your own. He doesn´t seem to be aware of it most of time. At other points, it seems more than intentional. He repeats phrases, that you have said. His speech patterns begin to more closely resemble your own, the more time you spent with each other. Or do yours resemble his? It seems, that the two of you bleed more and more into the other, as time passed. Over time though, while you grew more and more subdued. He became louder. Where you grew into something, that cowers away. He became something, that would be impossible to miss. He mirrors you, but he plays into every extreme there is. Your melancholy becomes something loud and heart wrenching. Your happiness wraps into demented glee and shrieks of joy. Your gentle affection on his face turns into a punishing grip. Ren clings to you. He knows, that he is adapting to your personality, though where this might frighten you, it only brings him joy. He always knew, that you were the perfect fit for him. His perfect other half, and now he only got to prove it. He won´t let you go. Oh no. He never will. And why should he? With all the work he put in, to be your counterpart? He will cling to you till the end of time.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
You were bored, when he approached you. His soft voice nearly scared you half to death, when he started to talk to you. You hadn´t even heard him coming close. There was a sharp wit lacing his every word, as he waved your anxiousness away with a quiet humour twisting around his mouth. You and him talked nearly for the whole night. You were no longer bored. Drink after drink gets shared between the two of you, as dawn slowly comes around. You don´t even notice, when they start to taste funny. Maybe you simply drank too much? Your sudden tiredness is blamed on the late hour, and even when it feels like you can´t keep your eyes open any more and his smile is so full of sharp teeth. Maybe your fear was reasonable. Maybe you should have listened to that first instinctual response of absolute terror, when you noticed at first. These thoughts run slowly and languid through your mind, as he hoists you up over his shoulder, and simply walks out. No one stops him.
Mask: Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
There is a quiet confidence, you observe, that seems to find him in the strangest moments. His mood is quick to change. Laughter can turn into angry screams, faster than you can keep up with it most of the time. It´s no secret to you, that Ren is unstable. It´s also pretty obvious to you, that he is aware of that fact as well. Whenever he actually decides to take you outside, Good behaviour need to be rewarded dear, he has to concentrate. He can´t be too domineering over you, and so he falls back into patterns, that make him seem shy and unassuming. He knows, where those habits formed, and while he wouldn´t thank Strade for them, he still finds them useful for this. He knew what a charmer Strade was, just as he is now as well. A good trait to have, if one is like him. So he puts on the mask, that helps him to navigate the outside easily. Voice timid and shy. Never taking up more space, than he needs to. He basically vanishes into the background. It´s easy for him to watch every little move that you make. After all, you also tend to forget that he is here, whenever he gets like this.
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
You don´t even know why he suddenly slams into you. Tearing you down to the ground with him. He is hovering above you, lips pulled back into a cruel snarl. Teeth gnashing and spit slowly dripping from the corners of his mouth. Right now he resembles more than ever, the violent and feral animal, that he always pretends not to be. There is the clinking of chains, as your breath only comes shortly. His teeth violently snap shut just inches from your face. When he speaks, a melodious hum, you can barely understand him, but the little you do frightens you. It freezes the blood in your veins, as you try to shake your head at him. Tears are already rolling down your face. He pats your face, then your head. His grip on the chain wrapped like a collar around your throat not loosening. He chuckles out But what a pretty star you would make. It would surely be my new favourite film. You can only cry harder, as you think of the man in cellar. You try to plead and beg with him, as he yanks you down the stairs. Your limbs kicking out in every direction, as you pull at the chain and try to stop him. The wooden steps bruise your back, and his laugh rings in your ears. When you swipe at him accidentally instead of the chain, his laughter stops. He doesn´t pay your terrified shrieking any mind, as he fished a little button from his pants pocket and presses down. You don´t really move, when he pulls at the leash again. Drool and spit slowly dribbling from your mouth, as fine tremors run through your body. You don´t even know what brought this on.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
You wake up with a groan. You definitely drank too much last night. Your head pounds, and every little movement you make makes you wince. When you finally open your eyes, you don´t recognize the room. Carefully lifting the blanket you realize that you are only half-dressed. You can´t even remember how you got here. It takes you stumbling around the room, ripping open the curtains and seeing your reflection in the barred up windows to realize that there is something on your neck. It´s bulky and heavy, and no matter how much you fiddle with it, you can´t get it off. When the door suddenly opens, you nearly scream. The boy, red hair and kind of small, seems vaguely familiar to you, lets out a surprised yelp. His smile seems kind, but when he notices you still fiddling with the collar, his expression grows dark. It´s a low Stop that! that gives you a momentarily pause, before you ignore it. The next thing you know is pain. The boy holding a remote, as he comes to a stop standing over you. He crouches down next to you, a small smile playing around his lips, as he watches you drool and shake. There is a worried crease between his eyebrow, that you can´t help but feel like it´s fake. He pats your head, with a smile, as he licks his too sharp teeth. O this is gonna be fun. I love you so much my dear!
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
You looked at his hand, as if he would bite it off, when you took it. Come here, he crooned, curling his fingers in slowly. His patience was slowly running thin. You couldn´t see it from your position, but he had started to fiddle with the remote of your shock collar. He was contemplating to just shock you into complying with his simple request, but something about the way you looked at him – shaking, scared – stopped him. His patience was rewarded when you finally reached out for him, curling your fingers around his as he helped you up from the floor. He nuzzled close into your neck, and patted your hair. Good job, darling! So good for me~, he couldn´t help a little moan slipping out with the words. He led the way to the basement door, and opened it. Walking down the steps first, he sighed as he heard how your footsteps had stopped. With just one glance over his shoulder, he knew that this time you wouldn´t come that easy. It wasn´t fear and hesitance – both very under stable to him – that stopped you this time, but stubbornness. Without even hesitating, he pressed the button on his remote. Keeping it pushed down, only giving you short breaks to let you catch your breath, he grapped you by your shirt to drag your convulsing body down the stairs with him. Dropping you down at the pole, he leaned in close If I want something, you do it!, with that he tapped you on the nose, before standing up again.
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
You better hope and pray, that something else will kill you before he gets his hands on you. He stares down at the broken collar, then at his open front door. The laughter, that escapes him at this moment is strained. With a deep breath, he already knows where you went, and moves to follow you. The hunt is on. It was hard to get him to this point in your conversation, but maybe you actually got through to him. He looks at you with wet and wide eyes, before he suddenly sobs. Collapsing into your open arms, he burrows close to you. You try not to flinch, as his hands suddenly snake around your throat, but the click you hear, stuns you. We will meet each other again, right? Do this the right way again?, he asks as he gently puts the collar to the side. You can´t help yourself but to whisper a Of course! against his twitching ears. Blood covers his hands, his chest. He can feel how it already started to dry on his face, flaking off. This wasn´t supposed to happen. He didn´t intend to do this! Carefully, he pushed his hands beneath your body, to lift you up. He stumbles down the steps to the basement. It´s a bit of a fumble to get the lid open, but he finally manages it, as he lays you next to Strade. Huh. That looks almost cute. Flexing his claws, he tears open your chest cavity, and rips out your heart. As he bites into it, he gently closes your eyes, only to slide down to the floor and lean his back against the freezer. He starts to talk to you both. When he is finished, he will close the lid, and maybe watch a movie. Doesn´t he have something with you in it?
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
It´s with a spring in his step, that he carries you out of the bar. He waves off the concerns of the other patrons, whispering instead in approachable manner Drank a bit too much, you know how it can be. The rancorous laughter than follows tells him, he hit the right tone. He has to adjust you once or twice, hefting you higher up on his shoulder. The same lie becomes easier for him to tell over time. Such a good boy, one older lady comments, and he can´t help but giggle to himself. His hands only start to shake with adrenaline, after he deposited you on the bed, he had prepared for a guest. He fumbles with the collar, that he became very familiar with under Strade, before he gently clicks it around your neck. Carefully he adjusts, so that it won´t be uncomfortable for you to wear. It is with a smile, that he removes your shoes and jacket. He wonders if he should remove your jeans as well, before deciding that they must be terrible to sleep in. He hums lightly as he unbuttons them. His hands hovering over your body. Still asleep, the drugs he had put in your drink, still doing their job. He smiles, as he pulls the blanket over you. Shuts the curtain of the barred up window, and with a smile as he looks back at you, closes the door. It would have been nice, if you would have come to him, but this is perfect as well. He is giddy, as he runs down to the basement, to tell Strade about what happened today.
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
He suppressed the instinctual snarl, the gnashing of his teeth, as another stranger bumped into him. Instead, he forced his lips into a kind smile. Holding tightly onto the mask, that let him seem like any other person in this bar. His skin was itching for blood and it had become such an overwhelming need to him, that he couldn´t tell any more if it was his instinct or his experience urging him to get blood to flow. He let his eyes sweep over the bar, when something suddenly drew all his attention. Your were just sitting there, looking at your drink as if it held all the answers to this world. Flinching away from every stranger, that would press themselves to close past you. A look of disgust openly on your face, when some would come to touch you in the process. It was almost cute to watch. Ren could feel his tail slowly swaying behind him, this could be a chance for him to pretend to be normal. After all, it looked like you wouldn´t even be able to tell the difference anyway. Something in him was still screaming for blood. It felt like a physical ache in his fangs and claws, and his ears twitched to take in every little sound you made, as he slowly stalked towards you. But there was something else as well. A ghost of someone – long dead, his heart gone – urging him forward with a gentle smile to reel you in. It wanted to see you cry. He shivered in delight as he imagined for a moment, what you would look like on your knees, face bloody and bruised, tears still streaking down your face, and mixing with your spit, as it dribbled down you chin and onto his old collar and your eyes wide as you looked only at him. He knew this would be fun, when he saw you flinch, when he greeted you.
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
His ears perked further up, when he heard a faint sobbing coming from your room. For a moment he wondered, if he should lock the knife away, before shutting the stove off, and simply leaving it on the cutting board. Wiping his hands on a towel, he made his way to you. Gently knocking on the door frame, he announced his presence to you, as he had already made his way halfway into the room. He ignored your muffled Go away!, and sat down next to you on the bed. There, there he hushed you, as his claws gently carded through your hair. He busied himself with pulling some of the knots out, and pulling the matted parts gently apart, completely ignoring your wince or how you tried to pull away from him. When he deemed you decently groomed – as he would sometimes term it with a laugh on his face – he dropped down onto your bed next to you. Pulling you to lay on his chest, he hugged you close. He was still petting you, as he slowly dozed off. Dinner could wait for a bit longer.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
There is doubt in his heart, whenever he sees you cry. He is sure that you are his, in every shape and form that matters, but to see you cry breaks his heart every time. Maybe it would be better, when the two of you would part ways. Maybe it would be better of he could simply watch you from far away, instead if staying constantly by your side. Or maybe he should just make sure, that you stay forever with him. Heart by heart. No matter how bloody it would be. You recognize easily, that while Ren tends to be a bit overbearing, he never seems to touch you longer than he needs to. You caught him countless times staring at your mouth, only to laugh and blush when he realizes that you noticed it. His hands only ever seem to land on skin that is covered by clothing, or at least his touch never seems to demand more. It´s strange you think, idly watching how he is staring at you again slowly licking his lips, how he never acts on his desires. Almost as if he doubts himself.
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
It´s when he gently kisses your forehead, as he tucks you in for the night, that you finally realize something. For all his bluster, for all the pain he causes you, he also always turns rather quickly back into a facsimile of kindness. He amps it up for you, when ever it seems that you´re playing into his delusions. You might loose yourself in them, but you have nothing else to loose any more. So you try it. And suddenly it seems that this vicious fox is at your every beg and call. You don´t ask about the basement or the screams and he never threatens to take you down there any more. You compliment his cooking and suddenly food seems something you never seem to lack. You never step into hall for the door outside, and he wants to take you on a thousand walks. You even stop fiddling with your collar and with time forget that it´s still active. He will give you everything that he can. You shall lack nothing, not even your freedom. He is of service to you. Especially now, that he can have this soft life with you, that he had always dreamt of.
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
Sometimes Ren watches you with such a cold calculating look in his eyes, that you can´t help but shiver. You know, that in those moments he is debating with himself. His grin sharpening, while he flexes his claws. As if he can´t quite decide if he should rip your throat out with his fangs or his claws. As if it would matter in the end. Your blood would be on his hands either way. In the end, he will relax again. He knows, just as well as you do, that there will come another opportunity for him to let go of his pent up aggression. Another misstep of you, which allows him to have a go at you, without feeling all guilty about it afterwards. You overstepping the bounds, he always lays so carefully out for you. And if you fight back, he might even get a taste of that precious blood of yours.
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
He loves, loves, loves you! From the moment, he first saw you, when you so trustingly, so full of blind faith, drunk the glass he gave to you, he knew it. He knew you would be perfect for him. He wants you to be there, by his side, for the rest of your lives, and he swears to himself, that he will do whatever it takes to make sure, that he can ensure, that your paths will not lead apart. He wants you to be there so badly, that he reassures himself, that the end will surely justify the means. Though, he will still very much react to the way you treat him. He will pull get you the moon if you so much as wish for it, but he also wants to make you aware, that all of this doesn´t come for free. He wants his love to be reciprocated by you, and he makes it abundantly clear to you as well. Otherwise, he won´t mind training you like a wild animal to simply love him. Hey, if it works, it works, right?
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
He had already talked with you for so long, and know he was nearly shaking with excitement. The bar was quiet, nearly deserted as was the usual for The Jackalope, and he knew nobody would watch him too closely here. He waited with bathed breath for you to finally arrive, as he had finally managed to weasel the promise of a real meeting from you. The bottle of Rohypnol in his back pocket, that he tucked away, when leaving already told him how this night would go. Tonight, he would make sure, that he wouldn´t be alone any more, that the ghost would hopefully stop hounding his every step, as another person would fill this empty house once more. He just has to be patient, just has to be careful. Buy a drink, crush one or two, and then bring it back, with an innocent smile. He could do this. His eyes snapped upwards, as an angel walked in, and a sly smirk, quickly a gentle smile curved his lips, as he stood up and waved towards you. He would do this.
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
Ren will, if all else fails, scare you into compliance. He will hold out for as long as he can for a relationship for the two of you, like the ones in his stories. But if it all falls through, he will be satisfied with Stockholm syndrome setting in one day. And while he stills hope for that, showing kindness to you whenever he can without undermining himself, he shudders at the other options. Sometimes, not that he would ever tell you of it, he thinks about how he could break you apart. Though, he will think of what might follow in the end. He realizes rather quickly, that he would never want to see you break. He saw it too often. How only a shell it left, a hollow puppet that doesn´t respond any more. When he looks at you, he can never imagine being satisfied like that, and so he nourishes his hope, and makes kindness is weapon. He will get what he want, without breaking you. He just has to be a bit more patient.
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Text
WELL HELLO THERE
Pairings: Animagus!George Weasley x fem! Summary: George is too nervous to talk to you, so he finds another way to be with you Warnings: Mention of a cut. Notes: I might do another one where he's a different animal. or I'll do Fred. i just wanted to write him as a doggy Animagus.
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George wanted nothing more than to talk to you.
you were on his mind every minute of the day.
from staring at the back of your head in transfiguration, looking at you in the great hall at meals and searching for you in the halls.
he was infatuated with you, and he wanted to be able to talk to you, but when he tried yesterday, it didn't go so well..
you were both in potions, brewing up something George doesn't even remember
-
you were both at the same table, reading from the book, measuring and cutting the ingredients for the potion.
"excuse me? hi, can I borrow that?" he looked up from his book and looked at you, his mouth slightly open
"me?" he muttered nervously
"yeah, I just need to-" you said, holding your hand out as you pointed to the knife
"-yeah here you go" he cut you off, picking the knife up and handing it to you. accidentally cutting your hand as he held it out from the handle
you winced in pain "shit" you whispered
"merlin, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm really sorry-" he panicked before his potion exploded in his face
he stirred to many times.
he wiped his eyes with his sleeve, his eyes landing on you, your hand closed in a fist to stop the bleeding and Snape beside you, glaring at him
"50 points from Gryffindor" he announced "detention Mister Weasley"
George sighed as Snape walked away. he looked back at you
"I'm really sorry" he repeated himself to you.
"it's fine" he heard you mumbled
-
after that class, George knew he wouldn't be able to talk to you, he'd be too embarrassed and scared that you'd walk away from him, angry or upset at him
he didn't mean to hurt you. he was just shocked and excited to talk to you.
but he didn't want to give up.
-
George was in Hogsmeade, going to buy some sweets and go to the joke shop when he saw you, walking towards the woods.
it was clear as day so he didn't think anything would be in there to hurt you, but he insisted on following you in.
the snow covered the trees and fell onto his sweater, decorating it with little white dots as he followed you.
he watched as you turned around abruptly, hearing something behind you.
he hid behind the massive tree and held him breath, waiting a moment before looking back.
you could hardly see the roofs of the small town anymore, but you didn't go too far in.
he stayed a good distance away from you as you walked, finding a tree and sitting down, leaning against it as you fished a book out of your bag.
he admired you as you started reading it.
he wanted to go to you, but he couldn't. and if he went back, you would probably find him and call him out for stalking you. he didn't want to make a fool out of himself again, but he would hate to be made out as a creep for following you.
but then he remembered what he was able to do and smiled.
-
you smiled as you read your book, it was pretty good so far, and the quiet was nice. you couldn't get it anywhere else.
then you heard a shuffle. you looked up, not expecting anything, it was probably snow falling from a branch.
but there it was. a big ball of brown and white fluff.
it barked at you
you tilted your head. and it tilted it's head back, making you smile.
it barked again, coming closer, it's ears flopping as it trotted its way over to you. you put your book down and held your hand out for it
"well hello there" you beamed as it sniffed your hand before leaning into it
"where's your owner?" you asked, looking around. it barked again, sitting up proudly.
you noticed there wasn't a collar on it's neck
"you're a stray" you frowned
you shifted in your place and patted your lap
"c'mere"
it hurried onto your lap. licking your hand as you held your hand out to pat it's head
you loved dogs. especially fluffy ones. Hermione once got you a book on dogs and you leaned a lot about them.
so you recognised the breed as a newfoundland. and you realised it was a boy
"aren't you a cutie?" you giggled and he snuggled up to your lap.
he barked again. his paw grabbing your hand. you flipped it over and held it out to him, he whimpered, looking at the bandage covering your palm.
he looked up at you, his brown eyes were gentle
"what's wrong buddy?" you furrowed your eyebrows
he looked back to your hand and resting his head in the warmth of your palm.
he was quite small for his breed, so you knew he was a pup. he was still big for a pup but that breeds sizes are really big.
he got up and shook it's body, the snow flying of his fur. making you giggle as he panted.
he sat beside you again and barked
"what do you want buddy?" you asked it
he only barked again. you looked around you and noticed a stick underneath you bag.
"here, go fetch" you picked it up and threw it away.
he ran after it and came back to give it back, the drool coating the stick
you grimaced as you picked it up again and threw it away again.
you stood up as he ran after it again.
he came back and dropped at at your feet, smiling up at you. his tail wagging vigorously
you both played for a while until you realised it was getting dark.
"I gotta go buddy" you said, picking up your bag as looking down at him, you leaned down and pat his head.
"see ya buddy" you smiled before he whimpered
you shivered as you began to walk away, hearing his bark sadly
but you had to get back.
so did he
as you were out of sight, George trotted over to the big tree and hid behind it. putting his clothes back on quickly to avoid the cold.
-
the next week at Hogsmeade you found him again and you played with him the whole time.
you found a liking to the dog, and you wished you could keep him, but you can't keep a stray.
especially with the size he'll go to.
you were sitting by the black lake, looking out at the frozen water when you heard a bark. you looked over and saw buddy. which is what you decided to call him.
"hi buddy" you smiled at him, letting him drop his head to your lap
you pat his head, letting his fur tickle your fingers.
"where do you go when you're without me?" you ask him rhetorically.
"do you have a family? Friends or maybe a mate?" you questioned.
he whimpered, his tail slightly wagging
"I hear ya." you felt kind of silly talking to a dog so casually, but he was like a friend to you
"I mean, there is this one guy" you mentions and his head perked up, it was little things like that that made you believe he was really listening to you
"I tried talking to him a few weeks ago, it didn't go so well though" you sighed, looking at the small scar on your palm.
"he stabbed me, but it's fine, I forgive him, he didn't mean to- I hope" you continued, his tail stopping wagging like he was alert of something
you suddenly remembered you had to help McGonagall with something so you stood up suddenly, grabbing your things
"merlin, McGonagall is gonna be so mad" you cursed to yourself.
you quickly started running up to the castle, leaving him there by the lake, shocked.
you turned to look back to see him a little far behind you, walking behind a tree, you tilted your head and walked closer as you noticed he didn't come out the other side
your mind was probably playing tricks on you, but you wanted to make sure he was ok
when you were about to turn to the other side of the tree you bump into a tall, lanky figure. you back up and look at him weirdly
"where the hell did you come from?" you asked, shaken up by surprise
"i was sitting here, decided it was getting late" he responded quickly, seeming tense
you raised an eyebrow curiously "did you see a dog-"
"-no" he cut you off to reply shortly
you observed his figure carfully.
his hair was messy and his clothes were crinkled lightly sprinkled by brown fur, his pants looking a bit damp from the snow. you met his eyes. his gentle brown eyes.
you furrowed your eyebrows at the familiarity of them before stepping back from him.
he looked nervous and sort of weak. he looked away from you
"you should probably hurry, don't want McGonagall to be mad at you" he said.
"yeah, right, shit" you mumbled, turning away to go and run off before your feet stopped in it's tracks
"wait a minute" you said, turning around only for him to be gone.
you rolled your eyes and rushed up to the castle, deciding to bring it up next time you see him.
-
the next couple weeks you didn't see the dog or George anywhere
until you went to Hogsmeade again. you hadn't visited the town in a few weeks due to studying. so now you can see what new fills the shelves of the sweet shop and what new books there are.
you walked around the town, and sat down by a bench, pulling out a sweet from Honeydukes and re-read the blurb of your new book.
you heard a bark from behind you.
after your last encounter with the dog and George, you had a few suspicions. which is why the book you just bought was about animagi.
you put the book in your bag and looked down at the dog
"well hello there, long time no see" you smiled, patting his head
you got up and starting heading towards to woods, where you first met the dog
"wanna play fetch?" you asked him, making him wag his tail
you picked up a stick and threw it as far as you could.
it came back and looked up at you. his brown eyes begging for you to pick up and throw the stick again
but you didn't. you stood still looking at the dog with a frown on your face
and you decided to reach into your hair and take out the ribbon, taking his paw and wrapping it around his wrist. smiling at him.
"I'll see you next week bud" you said, scratching his ear, making his head lean towards your hand
you got your bag and walked away from him, going back to the castle where you waited for George to come into the common room.
-
he eventually did. he was wearing his Weasley sweater with the letter G knitted on it with brown pants on. but you noticed the bright red ribbon wrapped on his wrist
"that's a nice ribbon" you complimented him suddenly, his body froze as he looked at you
"where'd you get it?" you asked him, your lips turned up to a slight smile
"Ginny" he replied softly
you stood up and raised your eyebrows at him "really?"
he avoided your eyes. he knew you were clueing onto him.
and when he noticed the book on the arm of the couch. the word Animagi on the cover he knew you had caught him
he stood there, silent as you smiled
"how'd you figure it out?" he whispered
"Your eyes" you answered him. he went quiet again, shying away from you
"why didn't you just talk to me, you didn't have to- you know" you chuckled
"I was nervous. you wouldn't've pushed me away this way" he frowned
"you're not registered, are you?" you questioned him lowly
he shook his head
"you know what they'll do to you if people find out, right?" you blinked, worry laced in your tone
"I know. please-"
"-I won't" you cut him off. shaking your head, he let out a sigh and looked at his wrist.
"you should be careful. and am i wrong to assume Fred is one too?" you told him
he only nodded his head
"so do you wanna actually talk, not just throw a stick around and chase it?" you asked "and maybe you could actually take me to Hogsmeade, not just follow me into the woods"
"yeah, yeah that sounds good to me" he nodded vigorously
you smiled
"would you like a sweet?" you looked at the handful of candy from Honeydukes
"sure, gimme a butterscotch, Please"
------------------------------------------------
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sparda-ly · 1 year
Note
Hello! Can I request some DMC fluff, please? Like Dante and Vergil got sick somehow (idk, must be demon flu) and reader now has to take care of them. Separately, of course. I'd imagine Vergil is the type to try to power through it and fail miserably, lmao. While Dante eats up allll the attention his S/O gives him. It's up to you though :) Thanks and have a great day!
SICK! DANTE, VERGIL WITH A S/O WHO TAKES CARE OF THEM
UNSPECIFIED GENDER OF READER!
note: hey there ;) first dmc request, hope it's ok!
warnings: suggestive comment from dante
DANTE
dante probably got sick from his weird hobby of eating pizza naked on his balcony every morning
it doesn't matter if it's winter, summer, autumn, or spring - dante will not start his day without it
thinking he is immortal and invincible from getting any sickness, he unfortunately got proven wrong
and is currently laying in bed in the most dramatic way possible, having a wet cloth pressed to his forehead by lovely reader who keeps fussing over him
dante being dramatic is an understandment
however, dante while being sick is another type of drama queen
clinging to the reader and whining about the smallest things possible
"my head hurts so much honey please"
"i have such a bad tummy ache"
"love please don't leave me i might die here from this disease please"
one day he straight up sat on your leg not allowing you to go to the kitchen to wash dishes, acting like a child
you of course couldn't refuse and just agreed to this fate, getting cuddled to death by this himbo of a man
and dante absolutely loves this attention
"baby, i could name a few things you could help me with" ;)
and even five days after he returns to being a healthy man, he still whines about how bad he feels and oh so amazing reader you need to take care of him, or he will painfully die
the only thing stopping him is the tragic looks of bills to play, nearly staring at him menacingly from his desk
oh yeah, and also, vergil
his loving brother looking straight through his white lies, demanding him to stop lying and get his ass to work while rolling his eyes
VERGIL
vergil will never admit he is sick.
never.
even while practically fainting trying to get to the bathroom with wobbly legs
he still isn't sick, no, of course vergil
at the beginning, he will refuse your attention - saying the strangest excuses known to humanity such as
"a wild dog bit me"
"it's probably my devil trigger acting up"
"i have a penis infection"
the reader just stands there ??? confused as to how this is relevant to being ill
but you stay silent and walk to the bathroom with the intention of washing clothes
however when you return, vergil is already passed out on floor with litreally 40° celsius
but don't get him wrong, vergil still isn't sick
while pampering around him, constantly bringing him food, medicine, drink or anything to please him, he lays like a grumpy cats and just accepts this
vergil will learn to actually like this new side of you, although he does hate feeling useless and weak.
therefore, he will return to work as soon as possible, so don't get so comfortable fussing around your lovely boyfriend
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elliesflower · 11 months
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what's love? [ellie williams]
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pairing; ellie x gn!reader
cw; angst, ellie and reader in a situationship(kinda), post-golf incident (joel mentioned), slightly au (still set in jackson, ellie never went to seattle), ellie doesn't open up ab her feelings :(
an; hello! first off, rest easy to one of the greatest to ever do it, miss tina herself. while listening to her today i felt like this song was very ellie-coded tbh nd i haven't been great lately nd just wanted to throw something angsty together for my baby girl :( (i know the song's vibe doesn't necessarily match the story's vibe but i'm meaning more the lyrics). also this is more from ellie's pov so reader is gn and has absolutely no physical descriptors!!
no smut, but like all my content please 18+ only, mdni!!!
Three little words. 
One big problem. 
What is it?
“Is this the end?” 
No, not those ones. It was something else, painful, and always dancing at the tip of her tongue, making tiny beads of sweat prick at her palms and a ball of trepidation sink to the pit of her stomach. They were cursed words, seldom given thought, and never spoken aloud. The underlying topic of ninety percent of all songs ever written, and movies produced—it was cruel, really, how there was no escaping it. 
“This can’t be the end…” 
Vision blurred by the thoughts of a thousand demons, Ellie muttered back into the void. 
“It’s not,” and her voice was so quiet, it very well could have been the wind pestering the trees outside her window. 
“It’s not…?”
Oh. Right. 
Movie. 
Your legs shifted under the shared blanket, and Ellie’s eyes refocused onto your folded hands in your lap. 
“Is there a second movie, or something?” Your voice was trembling only slightly, the emotional turmoil of the last twenty minutes of the movie lacing your words. 
Ellie shook her head again, as if it would shake her brain right out. She couldn’t help but to feel bad, having practically abandoned the movie as she stewed in her own emotions. There were so many of them, fighting to get out, clawing her insides every time she looked at your face for too long.
“Sorry,” she could blame her watery eyes on the movie. Push aside her feelings. Again. “No, there’s no second one. I wish there was, though.”
Ellie wasn’t much like an open book. Or, I guess she was a very specific kind of book. That one you fell in love with based on the dust jacket description, with her complex words and inexplicit detail, but every time you’d pull it down to read, something stopped you. Life gets in the way. You’d tried and tried, oh god have you tried, to open her up; to wear her down, pressing on her spine and dog-earing her pages, keeping her infrequent tipsy confessions and three-am sleep deprived rants in the back of your mind like a filing cabinet. Pushing, but never pressuring. Ellie didn’t like pressure. 
“S’okay,” your voice was always soft with her. Couldn’t be loud, couldn’t scare her away, because Ellie Williams could fucking run. Away from her problems, as fast as her legs could carry her and as far as her heart would let her. Despite her alienation, the empty bed permanently rooted in the hardwood of Joel’s house kept her coming back. “Did y’wanna watch anything else? I’m kinda tired.” 
Even the softness of your voice couldn’t conceal your hurt, that she was shutting down. Closing you off. Keeping you at a distance. Her heart twinged, but she couldn’t look at you. She looked down at her outstretched legs, the off-white blanket cascading over them, the piece of dust she could see out of the corner of her eye. Anything. Except you. She felt cold, but your body was warm, radiating and making her shift toward you subconsciously. She hated it. 
Why is hate so much easier to express?
“You have patrol tomorrow?” It was easier to just get technical, sometimes. You nodded, before stretching your arms over your head, a yawn escaping you. “Gotta be up at four. Wesley and Nia have the flu or something, so we have to head out early to swing by their posts, too.” Ellie nodded, absentmindedly picking at her cuticles. Ignoring the sweet smell of vanilla that emanated from your body as your arms went over your head. 
She was so proud of herself when she found you that bar soap out on patrol, neatly tucked away in a dusty white vanity. You were so happy, so grateful, always so grateful that she was thinking of you. That she perceived you in such a way.
And she almost fucking said it, that night. Almost ruined everything. Those three little words. She was high, probably on some weed, but also on how your eyes sparkled when you were happy, the way your eyes crinkled slightly at the corners and you shifted your body weight side-to-side excitedly. Your emotions were quite obvious, most of the time. It made Ellie want to cry. 
“That sucks,” she mumbled, and she couldn’t help it now. You were like a magnet, she was sliding down against the pillows, watching the credits roll on the small screen past the end of her bed. She could hear you breathing, deep and careful. On edge. Why were you so on edge?
“It does,” you agreed. Ellie didn’t look away from the screen. Sinking, slowly, slowly, slower...her head was resting near your rib cage, now. She could feel you breathing. And she felt you slide down to match her position, turning your body to face her, silently and without explanation. It was better that way. 
“You’ll sleep here tonight?” And it felt strangled, coming out of her throat. She didn’t need to say anything, though. Of course you were sleeping in her bed. Tonight, and the night before that, and before that…but she felt you nod against her side, and her arm slid up to allow you access to her chest. No explanation. Ellie was really bad at explaining. 
“You’re cold,” your voice was muffled against the fabric of her gray hoodie. Ellie almost smiled. Almost. 
“You’re warm,” she retorted, and she feels your heart pulse faster against the skin of your back. The movie’s end credits became the soundtrack to the night. Soft and pensive. Like you. 
Ellie watched as your breathing eventually slowed, your shoulders rising and falling rhythmically as you drifted away into sleep. She was always jealous of that, though of course, like everything else, she’d never admit it—how your tiredness always let you drift into a blissful dreamland, your right hand twitching where it usually sat curled loosely atop her chest as you slept. You moved a lot, she noticed, and talked sometimes, too. Sleep didn’t come easy to people like Ellie. 
And so, she was absolutely, positively, awake and conscious when you let out a breathy sigh in your sleep, legs twitching slightly against her bottom half before settling back into her chest. A whisper escaped your lips, so sweet it may have been laced with vanilla, too. 
“I love you…” 
But this time, Ellie couldn’t stop her tears.
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nottapossum · 10 days
Text
Itty Bitty Sinners 1.10
🧡 It starts with sorry 💖🐍♠️❤️💜
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Summary:TW: ⚠️Plz read: Mentioning divorce, diapers mentioned, diaper changing, doing someone's hair, sad parents, briefly mentioning religious stuff (very breif and catholic specifically), Anxiety, self hate, sad feelings, implied abusive and controling parents, hiding, apologizing, implied age play or something like that, Valentino is in this...he doesn't do anything but still. Lmk if I should add anything.
⚠️And disclaimer, please read: Vox is a white guy from the 1950s and I thought it would be absolutely adorable if he did Velvette's hair in this chapter despite his anxiety. Velvette is black and has black hair. I do not have black hair, so I'm not an expert on black hair. I did my research for this chapter and put a lot of effort to make sure they do her hair correctly with the care and love it needs. But! If I forgot something or wrote something completely wrong- please correct me! YouTube videos can only get me so far. I will fix it if necessary.Alright, the chapter here we go!!
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
'It starts with sorryThat's your foot in the door, one simple sorrySpoken straight from your coreThe path to forgiveness is a twisting trail of heartsBut sorry is where it starts.' ~It starts with Sorry, Hazbin Hotel
♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇
~~~Pentious and Charlie:~~~~
Vaggie left Pentious and Charlie by themselves...
He's not exactly sure what he's doing. He's never taken care of a little before! And he's only been little once, he has no experience in this!
Sure, he had a son, but not for very long...
"Where Mommy, Pen?" Charlie asks suddenly. 
Pentious shakes his head. "I'm sorry, who?"
"Mommy! She weft!" Charlie says. 
"Do you mean Vaggie?" Pentious asks. 
Charlie nods. “Mhm.”
"You know where she is, dear. She left to go talk to Angel, remember?" 
"Still?" Charlie asks.
"She just left." Pentious says. 
"Oh." Charlie pouts, folding her arms on the table sadly. 
"Uhm, how about we play a game while we wait for her?" Pentious suggests. 
Charlie is still pouting, but she nods. "Okay."
"Alright, what game would you like to play, dear?" Pentious asks.
Charlie thinks about it...
"Uhm we can play wif my little pet shops!" Charlie says.
"Alright, and what is that?"
Charlie pulled out a box filled with tiny plastic animals. “My little pet shop friends!”
"I will make my family shopkeepers." She says. 
Her family consisted of a father who's a duck, an owl for the mother, and a goat for the daughter. 
"Now you gotta make a family!" Charlie says, handing Pentious the box.
Pen went along with it, his Doggy family consisted of a mother, father, and a little puppy son. 
"Now your family has to go to the grocery store while the daughter is watching the store all by herself, it's her very first time ever and she is doing a good job today.” Charlie explains. 
"Okay." Pentious says. 
"Hello, what would you like to buy?" Charlie's goat asked. 
"Uhm do you have any dog treats?" Pentious's dad doggy asks. 
"Of course, right this way." Charlie's goat says. 
They move their little figures to the dog treat isle and he buys some. "Thank you, you're really good at your job." Pentious's dad dog says. 
"Thank you, doggo." Charlie says. “I know it.”
Suddenly, Charlie's father duck shows up. "Hello daughter."
"Hello, father. I sold dog treats today." The goat says.
Charlie's voice gets a little deeper when playing the father: "Oh, that's great, Apple. But, I have some bad news."
"What is it?" Charlie's goat asks.
"Your mother and I are divorcing." The duck says. “That means we don't want to be happy anymore.”
"You're divorcing?! Right now?" The goat asks.
"Yup." The duck says plainly. "We decided we don't love each other anymore longer." 
"Awee!" The goat whines. “That's not fair!”
"But it's okay because you get to keep working at the store!" The mama owl says before both her and the duck leave. "Goodbye." 
"Charlie, I am both very concerned and confused at the same time." Pentious says.
"Uhm. So then the goat decided she didn't want the store to be a store anymore. She transformed it into the best restaurant ever!" Charlie moved around the store to create a restaurant. "Ta-dah!" 
Pentious doesn't do anything, just sort of watches her, so Charlie whispers: "The doggy family goes to the restaurant."
"Ah okay." Pentious says. He moves the little dog figures to the restaurant.
"Hello, do you have a reservation?" Charlie asks.
"Do I?" Pentious asks.
Charlie hums. "Are you the Dog family?" 
Pentious's little dog nods.
"Follow me!" Charlie's goat says.
Pentious has noticed that when Charlie is small her stories are very scattered. 
First, it was about a goat running a grocery store, then a goat who started a restaurant. She had the dog family try to help her get her parents back together by making them a romantic dinner. 
But it didn't work so they were all abducted by aliens for some reason? There was no consistency, but it was entertaining at least. 
"The only way to stop the aliens from taking over is if you two get back together and love each other again!" The goat says to her bird parents.
"But we can't." The duck says. 
"We forgot how to love." The owl adds. 
Pentious is very confused as to why the aliens care about this...but he goes along with the plot. 
The doggos worked together as a family to restore the cheese shaped spaceship to start attacking the aliens with violence, and teamwork made the goat's parents remember love. 
"We love each other! All thanks to you doggos!" The owl says. 
"And we love our daughter, so proud of our little apple dumpling." The duck adds. 
Suddenly the duck and the owl were kissing.
"Oh nooo! Happy parents!! Our one weakness!" Pentious says, playing as one of the aliens: "let's get out of here!" 
"Yay!! We saved the day!" Charlie says.
The door opens to the office and in returns Vaggie. 
Charlie's pupils expand: "Veevee!"
Charlie runs onto Vaggie's arms, and Vaggie happily picks her up. "Hey, kiddo. How are you doing?" She asks. 
"Good! We was playing pet shops!" Charlie says.
"How's Angel?" Pentious asks.
"He's okay." Vaggie says. "We talked and he says he'll stay."
"Yay!!" Charlie cheers.
"Huzzah!" Pen shouts at the same time. 
His voice sounded smaller than normal, so Vaggie asks: "Pen, are you by chance small too?" 
"Is uh...is that okay?" Pentious asks.
Vaggie sits on the floor in front of him with Charlie on her lap. "Of course it is."
Pentious smiles, he must have regressed during the game he and Charlie were playing. 
He regressed? But, he feels so happy and calm...less strange and sad- why can't regression always be like this?!
"Thank you for taking care of Charlie, you're a great helper." Vaggie tells him.
Pentious's eyes widen and he smiles brighter. "Oh...you're welcome." He says. 
"Angel wants to apologize to both of you, but I told him to wait until you're big again." Vaggie explains. 
"Is he okay?" Charlie asks. 
"Yeah, I think so." Vaggie says.
"Mm good." Charlie rested her head on Vaggie's shoulder. “I don't wike him to be sad.” She says. 
"Tired?" Vaggie asks her.
"Mm...lil bit." Charlie mumbles. 
Vaggie gathered the blankets that were on the couch and wrapped Charlie up in one of them. "Just relax. You want to watch something and take a little nap?" Vaggie asks.
"Pen! Wanna watch bluey wif me?" Charlie asks. "It's the bestest show!"
Pentious smiles at her. "Okay!" 
Vaggie put on an episode of Bluey: Verandah Santa. 
Pentious tried to relax next to them on the floor, so Vaggie handed him a soft pillow and blanket so he could be comfortable aswell.
Before Pen relaxed too much he left to get his dog teddy to join them. His doggo would probably like to watch bluey too! 
Pen decides that he likes regression a lot. 
~~~Vox and Velvette:~~~~
Vox woke up with a tiny Velvette laying on his chest. 
Velvette's eyes flutter open, she still has her paci in her mouth, but her eyes brighten upon seeing Vox still there. 
"Good morning, big girl. How are you feeling?" Vox asks her. 
Velvette hums.
"Did you sleep well, sweetheart?" Vox asks. 
Velvette nods. "Mhm."
"How about some breakfast?" Vox suggests. 
Velvette nods excitedly, so Vox gets up and picks up Velvette along with him. He takes the little one to her room so she can get dressed. "Do you need help getting dressed today, or can you do it yourself?" Vox asks her. 
Velvette doesn't answer, she tugs on the handle of her pacifier anxiously as she looks away from him.
"Vel, do you need help getting dressed?" He asks. 
Velvette nods slowly. 
"Alright, and uhm. How little are you?" 
Velvette shrugs. 
"Should we put a diaper on you? Just in case?" Vox asks. 
Velvette whines, she knows she probably needs one- but she wants to be a big girl! 
"Vel?"
Velvette shakes her head. 
Vox knows that Velvette is about one or two (more likely one) and when she's that young, she definitely needs diapers. 
"Vel, could you maybe think about it?" Vox asks her.
Velvette shakes her head and whines louder. "No!" She whines through her pacifier. "No diap, no nappy, no need it!"
Vox sighs.
Sometimes Velvette will demand she be diapered, other times she'll throw a tantrum at the mere suggestion. 
"Alright, how about if we compromise? What if you wore a pull-up instead?" Vox suggests. 
To the suggestion Velvette just starts screaming loudly: "Nooo!!"
Vox sighs, trying to keep his composure... he's glad Velvette was feeling better though. 
When Velvette is genuinely upset, she's quiet. When she's totally fine- she's loud and scream-y.
"Alright, Vel. You win. You don't have to wear a diaper if you don't want to." Vox says, relieved when she stopped screaming. 
"I'll just take this purple hello kitty nappy and give it to someone else." Vox says casually.
Velvette's eyes go wide and she reaches for the diaper Vox was holding, whining as she desperately tries to take it from him.
Vox lets her take it, and Velvette hugs it close to her chest. 
Vox smirks, he knew Hello kitty would do the trick. Every baby has their kryptonite. "You want to wear it now, Velbelle?" Vox asks.
Velvette nods. 
Vox takes the diaper from her. "Alright, lay down on the bed for me." He tells her.
Velvette doesn't like being told what to do, but she did want to wear the kuromi printed nappy, so she did as asked. "M' still big girl!" Velvette tells him, grumpily. 
"I know you are." Vox says. "There's nothing wrong with big girls needing diapers." Vox explains, quickly grabbing the baby powder and diapering her. 
"Yea?" Velvette asks. 
"Of course. Lots of people need them." Vox says, taping the diaper on her with no issues. He used to be so bad at this, but he's taken care of baby Velvette enough that he's basically a pro at diaper changing now.
"I wike dis one." Velvette says, flapping her hands excitedly. 
"You really like hello kitty, huh?" Vox asks.
"Kuomi!" Velvette says as if he just said something offensive. "Not kitty!"
...Vox does not understand the difference, they look exactly the same. "Oh right, sorry." He says, disingenuously. "Let's get you dressed now. What would you like to wear today, Princess?"
"Kuromi dwess!" Velvette says. 
"And where may that be?" Vox asks, raising an eyebrow. 
Velvette points at her closet, so Vox looks through it until he finds a few dresses with the little cat (rabbit) on it.
He went through all the dresses with her until she picked out the one she wanted and so he made quick work getting her dressed. 
Her hair was still in a bonnet, and it was going to stay there until Val or Velvette were ready to do her hair- Vox is not good at hair, and according to Velvette and Val with black hair it's especially important to do it correctly. 
He's been practicing and taking note of what Val does to Velvette's hair when she’s small and what Velvette does sometimes when she's big...but he's not sure he's ready to attempt it yet. 
Wait, was it bad to leave her hair in a bonnet? How long is it okay to leave her like that?
Well...she did sleep in it, so it will probably be fine for another hour- or at least enough time to get her some breakfast.
Velvette looked around for her pacifier, and when she found it on the floor she picked it up, but Vox quickly snatched it away as he was deep in thought..
"Voc!!" She whines.
"Hold on, Vel. It's all dirty. We got to clean it first." Vox tells her. 
She whines as he makes his way to the bathroom to rinse it off. 
He returns and hands the paci to Velvette, she happily pops it in her mouth and he picks her up to head downstairs for breakfast.
They walk downstairs where Val was already being served breakfast by Kitty, their Fizbot.
"Oh, so you both decided to wake up today." Val says. 
Vox rolls his eyes and puts Velvette down on the chair. "Couldn't get her to sleep last night." He explains. 
Kitty seemed happy to see them, eagerly making breakfast for the late Vees. 
Val rolls his eyes. "Should have taken my advice." ~ 
"I'm not locking her in her room, she has enough issues." Vox says, placing a bib around her neck. 
Velvette takes her pacifier out and starts nomming on some tasty pancakes Kitty had made. 
"Hey, Val?" Vox is a little nervous asking this, he's not sure if he's ready for this...
If Vox is going to be Velvette's caregiver, he's gotta learn how to take care of her properly. "I want to do Velvette's hair."
Val tilts his head. "Are you prepared to die if you do it wrong?" Val asks him, knowing very well that Velvette would explode if something happened to her beautiful hair. 
"I was hoping you could be there to guide me in case I mess it up." Vox tells him. 
Valentino thinks it over and shrugs. "I suppose I can do that." 
"Thanks, Val." Vox says. 
"Mhm." Val takes a sip of coffee.
Vox looks over to Velvette who's now covered in maple syrup. He's glad he put that bib on her...and that her hair is still covered, he would have no idea how to get syrup out of hair.
He never had kids in his life...that he knows of. Which is strange to most considering he was fifty. 
Velvette gave him the chance to experience...what he always wanted to. 
He owes it to her to be the best caregiver she can possibly have.
And he was gonna do it! 
~~~Angel:~~~
Vaggie had told Angel to wait a few hours to give Charlie some space before talking to her.
Angel assumed that meant Charlie regressed, but he didn't ask questions…
He didn't feel like he had a right to. 
Anxiety filled him, the anticipation was killing him!
He supposed he deserved the guilt that was eating him alive.
He felt like a child awaiting punishment-
Or waiting for a priest at confession…
So, he hung out with Husk, and it helped a little with the guilt…
Because he knew Husk didn't hate him at least. 
There was comfort in that.
“What are you going to say?” Husk asks him. 
Angel shrugs. “I don't know…but I'm sure I'll think of something.” Angel says. 
“Don't overthink it, Charlie is a very forgiving person, you know that." Husk says.
“It's not Charlie I'm worried about.” Angel says. 
“I talked to Pentious…he seems to be doing okay.” Husk says. "I think Vaggie would have been the hard one." 
Angel nods; it doesn't really matter if Pentious is okay, Angel probably wouldn't be quick to forgive the snake if the roles were reversed. 
“Will you be there?’ Angel asks him. 
“Do you want me to be?" Husk asks. 
“I…I think I'd feel better about it if you were there with me.” Angel says. “For…support?” 
“Alright.” Husk agrees. “Then I'll be there.” 
"Thanks." Angel smiles. 
"How are you feeling?" Husk asks. 
"Anxious." Angel answers. "I don't think I've felt this nervous in a long time." 
Husk thinks for a moment. "Well, let's focus on getting you to relax."
Angel smirks at Husk who sighs. "Not like that." 
Angel chuckles. "Sorry...I think maybe a distraction would be the best thing.” 
Husk nods. "We could watch a movie or something." 
Angel nods. "Yeah that would be good. It might help." He says, nervously. 
Husk didn't have a TV in his room, so they moved to Angel's. 
"Pick something out, I'll make us some popcorn, sound good?" Husk asks. 
Angel nods. 
So Angel put on legally blonde. 
It's not his favorite movie of all time, but it never fails to put a smile on his face. 
~~~The Vees:~~~
After breakfast, Vox picks up Velvette and takes her to her bathroom to get her clean and ready.
Valentino helped gather everything he'll need for Velvette's hair while Vox cleans her face and hands of the
Vox's got this! He was going to do Velvette's hair! And he's going to succeed!
"You really think you're ready for this?" Val asks him. 
"I have been doing research, I've seen both you and Velvette do her hair; I think I got this!" Vox declared.
"Alright, let's see it." Val shrugs.
"Stop me if I do something wrong." Vox says. 
Valentino nods. "I will."
"Is it okay if I take off your bonnet and do your hair today babygirl?" Vox asks Velvette. 
Velvette thinks about it and finally nods, she trusts Vox.
So, Vox takes off Velvette's bonnet, setting it on the sink. "Alright." 
"Start simple." Val tells him. "Do small sections at a time, take her braids out, then start detangling with her comb." Val says, handing him the comb.
"Got it" Vox says, taking the comb and setting it in front of him.
He starts with one side of her head and starts undoing the braids carefully-
"Ow!" Velvette shouts. 
"Sorry, Vel. Are you okay?" Vox asks. 
"She's fine. Keep going." Val tells him, sounding a bit irritable.
Vox finishes taking out her braids, a little more carefully, then he grabs a spray bottle full of water and conditioner and he starts spraying her hair to make sure it's damp. 
Velvette closes her eyes, not liking the cold water.
Vox grabs a comb next. 
Velvette is a little nervous since Vox has never done her hair fully before. 
"Start at the ends and work your way up." Val tells Vox. "Slowly." He emphasized. 
"Okay" Vox starts gently combing her hair carefully at the ends and makes his way to her roots. 
So far so good. 
Once he finishes a section, Val hands him some rubber bands that have been bathing in oil. He puts each section in a ponytail and moves onto the next. 
He kept it going till her hair was split into four sections. 
Val gave him small pointers: "Don't put the bands on too tight."
"You're gonna need more water than that." "You'll need some more moisture." 
Vox was doing fine, but Velvette was getting restless! This was taking forever!  And she was bored!!
Velvette starts fussing and trying to get away. "Woah, Vel. You have to stay still, baby." Vox tells her.
Velvette whines, she doesn't want to! She wants to play!
"I'll get her tablet, you start braiding." Valentino tells him before heading downstairs.
"Thanks" Vox says.
Vox would never admit this to Val, but he was worried about breaking Velvette's beautiful hair. 
If he breaks her hair, she's never going to speak to him again, and honestly, he'd hate himself more than he already does.
He takes a few seconds to calm down, counting to ten as he takes deep breaths. He has done braids before on dolls...and He's watched Valentino do her hair a million times...he totally has this in the bag.
Okay, no he doesn't, but he's going to try anyway!
If he's going to be Velvette's caregiver, he's gonna need to learn how to do her hair properly. 
Velvette is kicking her legs anxiously, she doesn't want to be here, she wants to play!!
"Hey, Velvette. What color bands do you want?" Vox asks her, holding up her box of hair ties. 
Velvette looks at them, happy to finally get to do something fun! She picks up some purple and hot pink ones.
"Both of these?" He asks. 
She nods. "Yea. Voc, tabbit!" She whines. 
"I know, babygirl." Vox says, working on the first braid by moisturizing it again. "Val is getting you your tablet right now."
Velvette huffs. 
"Is it hurting at all?" Vox asks.
Velvette shakes her head. "No."
"Okay good, hopefully that means I'm doing something right." He says. 
Val comes back with Velvette's tablet.
"How am I doing?" Vox asks Val anxiously.
"You're doing fine. Don't overthink it, its hair, not a bomb you need to defuse." Val says, handing the little doll her tablet.
Velvette giggles happily and starts playing Sofia the first.
Vox continues braiding her hair as he sings along with Val and Velvette: "I was a girl in the village doing alright-"
He successfully braids her hair in four simple braids.
She looked adorable!
Her hair wasn't perfect by a long shot- but it was done, and Vox couldn't be prouder of himself.
"Okay, Vel. What do you think?" Vox asks her.
Velvette's chair is turned so she can look in the mirror. She giggles happily.
"Do you like it?" Vox asks.
Velvette nods and reaches for Vox who happily picks her up.
"Not bad." Valentino says. "Braids aren't too tight, not a lot of loose hairs." He comments, looking over Velvette's head. 
"Thanks." Vox says.
"Now that I know you can actually do this, I trust you know I won't be doing her hair every single time now." Val says.
Vox rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah." He basically does all the caregiving for Vel and Val anyway, what else is new?
"Anyway, I'll be at the studio today, you two have fun!" Val tells them.
"Bye-bye Tio!" Velvette says, waving at him.
"Bye, babydoll." Valentino says to her.
Vox takes a deep breath, he doesn't want to think about the fact that Val is absolutely picking Angel Dust over him...again.
It's totally not important, Velvette is what's important now. "So, what now?" Vox asks.
"Uhm." Velvette thinks about it. "Tea party!"
Vox chuckles. "Sure, why not?" He asks, carrying her to her room once again.
~~~Later: The Hotel~~~
Vaggie approached Angel after they watched Legally blonde... and then clueless...and then mean girls, and then Heather's (best one). 
"So, Charlie is feeling a lot better. She's downstairs if you want to talk to her." Vaggie tells him. 
Angel nods anxiously. "Okay."
Vaggie can tell Angel is nervous, so she tries to help. “I already talked to Charlie and Pentious.” Vaggie says. “So, if you're not comfortable-”
“No, it's okay. I need to face this.” Angel says. “I need to talk to Pen and Charlie myself. They need to hear it from me.”
Vaggie smiles and nods, seeming…proud? Maybe? He's not sure. 
He did appreciate her trying to make this easier, but it has to be hard if he's ever going to win their trust back. 
Husk smiles and follows Angel downstairs, Vaggie following them closely. 
Pentious and Charlie were in the main room talking. 
"Oo! And in grannies, Bluey and bingo pretend to be old ladies, and bingo wants her granny to floss but Bluey says granny's can't floss."
"But, why can't grandmothers participate in general dental hygiene?" Pentious asks.
Charlie shakes her head. "No no, not that kind of flossing it's-" 
Angel walked over and stood in front of them. “Hey…”
Charlie and Pentious stop and look at him. 
Charlie smiles at him with more kindness than he's seen…in a long time. “Hi, Angel." 
“Hello.” Pentious says, looking at Angel with a face he couldn't quite identify- 
He's narrowing it down between upset or awkward…he's not sure which is better.
“Uh- can we talk?” Angel asks. 
Charlie turns to Pentious who nods. “Of course, Angel.” She says, gesturing for him to join her on the couch. "What's up?"
He sits down next to her, a bit of a distance, enough to at least face the two. 
Husk sat down next to him, while Vaggie chose to stand. 
“I'm really sorry.” Angel starts, causing Pentious to look up at him with concern. “I fucked everything up! You trusted me, an1d all I did was show you why…you really shouldn't. I know talk is cheap, but, if you'll give me another chance, I'd like to show you that I can be trustworthy… of course, I'd understand if you just...can't. I won't stay if you don't want me here anymore." He says. 
“Hey, hey, hey. Hold on, Angel." Charlie places her hand on his. "What you did was wrong…but it's not unforgivable.” Charlie says. “Of course we still want you here! It'll take some time to earn back the trust that was bruised, but my faith in you isn’t even close to being damaged.” She says. 
Angel nods, not sure how to take that. 
“I know you're a good person Angel, I believe in you and I know for certain that you're worthy of heaven.” Charlie says. “I for one forgive you full heartedly.” 
“Thank you…Charlie.” Angel says; He doesn't really agree with her, he's not worthy of anything. But he knew arguing would only encourage her to try and help him with ‘self esteem’ or something. “It's nice that you think you feel that way.” Angel says. 
“I also will forgive you, Angel." Pentious says. "But! Only if you help me rebuild the lego set you knocked over!” Pentious says, smiling. 
“Uhm, okay. I guess I could do that.” Angel chuckles, he's not sure what that is, but he's sure he could handle it. 
“I am sorry if I made you feel pressured to take the test. I get over excited about my plans and tend to drag people along even when they're not interested.” Charlie says. 
“You didn't…” Angel says. “I don't think you pushed too hard- I was just…scared of what you might find out is all.”
“Hey, the first step towards redemption is admitting fault. You are well on your way.” Charlie says. 
Angel couldn't help smiling a little at that…
It wasn't even the idea of redemption that forced it…
It was Charlie basically telling him he did a good job...he doesn't really remember the last time someone said that to him...well, that wasn't Valentino.
“The truth is…I…regress also.” Angel says. “I just-...it's such a vulnerable and terrifying part of me."
"Terrifying?" Charlie asks. 
"I'm...people know me." Angel explains. "Do you have any idea what people would do to me if they knew?" He asks.
Husk notices that Angel is clenching his fists angerly, so he offers his support by gently placing a hand on his.
Angel's tension subsides, and he smiles at Husk and takes his hand. "Thanks." He whispers to him.
"I didn't think about that." Charlie says. "I'm so sorry, Angel."
"It's okay...no one's mind should go there. People are sick." Angel says. 
"You're safe here, Angel. We won't let anyone else find out, I promise." Charlie says. "We're here for you, and we love you."
Angel smiles at her, trying not to think too hard about what she's saying...
He does feel a little bit better about them knowing...
“Angel…you regress too?” Pentious asks him.
“Uh Yeah...sometimes.” Angel says, rubbing his arm. 
“This is…amazing!” Pentious says, suddenly hugging Angel. “Perhaps we could help each other!”
“Um…maybe.” Angel says. 
Pentious was very excited! Angel is one of his favorite people! 
Angel and him can understand each other! How delightful! 
"Can you help me with my lego set now?" Pentious asks. 
Angel looks at Charlie who's smiling. 
He exhales. Everything is okay...
"Sure Pen." Angel says. 
"You want to help too, Husker?" Pentious asks. 
Husk smirks at the snake. "Sure, why not?" 
Pentious leads the two to the office while Vaggie and Charlie are left where they are.
Vaggie sits next to Charlie. "You doing okay?" Vaggie asks. 
Charlie smiles. "Yeah, thanks Vaggie." 
"Anytime, sweetie." Vaggie says. 
Charlie hugs her girlfriend. "I'm so lucky to have you. I hope you know that I love you so much!" 
"I love you too." Vaggie says, holding her back. "And believe me, I'm the lucky one." 
~~~Vox and Velvette: That night ~~~
Vox was enjoying a drink on the terrace when Velvette approached him.
"Hey, mind if I join you?" She asks him.
Vox gestures for her to sit on the seat next to him.
“How are you feeling?” Vox asks.
Velvette shrugs. “I'll be fine. How about you?”
“Carmilla agreed to sell us some weapons for Angelic security.” He says.
Velvette nods. "That's good. At least she listens to someone.”
“She'll regret ignoring you, Vel. They all will. Just give it time.” Vox says seriously. 
"I suppose." Velvette says. "I honestly don't know why it bothers me so...I mean, she's just a fucking pussy!" She growls.
Vox shrugs, Carmilla may be a lot of things, but that is one word he wouldn't describe her as. Her objections may have to do with Velvette herself, no one seems to see how extremely talented she truly is...which has worked in their benefit...but still. 
Velvette walks over to the railing."I don't know...maybe it comes from my parents. I wasn't worth it to my father to stick around...and my mum was always trying to change me." She explains. "I thought since I have rank here...I'd be listened to."
Vox follows her, handing her a drink. "Yeah...I was a child of divorce too, it can be it's own hell." Vox says. "I also know what it's like to be ignored; in fact, most of my friends decided they are better off without me in their life." 
"I'm not." She says, placing a hand on his arm.
Vox smiles at her. "You know what I think?"
"What?"
"I think you're brilliant, Vel." Vox says. "We're going to own this place because of you." 
"Thanks Vox." Velvette says. 
It was getting late, and everyone had work to do tomorrow.
"I'm going to bed. You coming?" Velvette asks him.
"Eh, I'm gonna get some work done." Vox shrugs. 
“Don't work too hard.” Velvette tells him.
“Please, the employees do most of the work.” He says. "Tomorrow will be a breeze." 
"Sure." Velvette rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say."
Vox set down his drink and sighs...
The truth is...it's way easier to work the feelings away..
Better to keep himself busy than let himself slip.
♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇
'Your journey's underwayIt'll take time to cover your/my vast multitude of sinsBut sorry is where it begins. '~It starts with sorry, Hazbin Hotel
Possum:
Sorry the chapter took so long to write! I hope it was alright and worth the wait.
Idk how I feel about it, I'm too tired to think. If it's not great, the next chapter should be better. I hope.
There will be 1 more chapter before part 2. I was gonna end part 1 with only 10 chapters, but there was room for one more very important chapter.
BTW everyone should read
Accident by Miraculous_Demigod on A03 if you want good Little!Velvette content.
Now! If you'll all kindly excuse me, I'm gonna play with my new LPS I got for my birthday and watch Bluey!
Love you!!
See ya! 💖✨️✨️
Tag: @babiegurlmuffin @todayimfour @ask-dusty-boy @trophyxtissues2 @im-not-paying-my-taxes
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